#x.muse

Full Dossier: here

Background: 

Stray was born in Australia to two drug-addicted piece of shit humans who had absolutely no right to have children. At best they were neglectful, but at their worst... well, there were very few nights Stray could recall falling asleep without the familiar ache of bruised ribs and a busted lip.

His mother died when he was about fifteen with a needle in her arm. When his father discovered her body, Stray was the only one around to deal with the aftermath of the chemicals still running through his veins.

To this day Stray can’t quite remember how things unfolded that night, only that he’d woken up in the hospital and found himself a ward of the court. His full recovery took months.

Foster care, while a huge step in the right direction for his quality of life, never quite helped him settle. Stray was poorly adjusted, struggled academically, and found himself falling into a group of kids and getting into trouble. At first it began with petty theft, and childish vandalism. From there, however, his behavior only escalated, and he became no stranger to the inside of a police car. 

At eighteen, Stray was on his own. In an attempt to find direction for his life, he booked a one way ticket to the U.S., landing in California. 

Odd jobs came and went for Stray. He’d wash dishes for a few weeks, then he’d be cleaning kennels out the month following, only to end up in the drive-thru window of some shitty fast-food joint. Money was always tight, and so it needed to be supplemented. 

On the suggestion of an acquaintance he was directed to the life of underground fighting. Although he’d had no formal training, he was no stranger to good ol’ fashioned street fights and beat-downs growing up.. and he figured there weren’t many people out there who could take a punch quite like him either, and keep going through it. Turns out, he was a natural. 

The fight-circuit was what originally led him to Charming. He knew of the town’s history, but didn't much give a shit about it as he had no intention of settling there - or anywhere, really. He’d make a bit of cash, then be on his way.

Twelve years later, Stray finds himself pretty damn settled having fallen in with the Devil’s Disciples. What began as a night of beers, faded into a blurry, drunken bar fight, which turned into favors exchanged...and, over time, into trust earned.

Now: 

Stray has been riding with the Devil’s Disciples for six years now, and as far as he’d concerned, they’re his family. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for them as a whole. He would always play his part, and always do what was asked of him, no matter what it was. In his mind, even the worst things he found he was capable of were all for the greater good of the MC. Issues of morality and guilt could always be dulled by a few pitchers of beer, after all.

Vega is his 9-month-old rescue pup. Stray’s a very proud pop, and loves that creature more than himself. When ever it’s safe to do so, Vega is his constant, lanky little shadow. When he can’t be accompanied, Stray seeks friends willing to watch him so he doesn’t get lonely.

Stray still loves to fight, and spends a lot of time at the Renegade gym. 

Personality: 

Loyal to a fault. Stray will follow the MC’s leadership unquestioningly, above all things. Beyond that, anyone who earns Stray’s friendship will find that comes with it’s own loyalty and commitment from him. He will bend over backwards to make sure those he cares about are safe and taken care of.

Short-tempered & aggressive. Even the slighted offense to himself, the MC, or his friends has the potential to set him off. He never quite developed solid coping mechanisms from his childhood, so his impulse threshold between smiling and having fun, to punching someone in the teeth is close to nonexistent.

Fun-loving. Beers? He’s down. Karaoke? Count him in. Whatever you can think of, if it sounds like a good time you can find Stray there. 

Uneducated. Stray never finished high school, so he is just barely minimally capable of much critical thinking or anything academics-based. The only real education he had in life had been from the streets, as as far as he’s concerned that’s good enough. 

So what’s with the stupid nickname?

In the apartments he grew up in, there was a sweet old lady who live several doors down. Whenever she saw him, she’d give him candies, or spend time talking to him about anything at all. Desperate for any kind of positive interaction, Stray would linger in the halls hoping to come across her. She called him her “little stray”. When the other kids found out, it was a point he was bullied over and it became the first time he realized acting out in violence had the power to change his circumstances. The next boy to tease him about the nickname whimpered home with a black eye. After that, the name kind of just stuck, and he never liked the name his parents had given him anyway.

Connections:

Friends: the more, the merrier. Beer friends, gym friends, dog friends. All of the friends.

Best friend: there’s no one Stray would rather have at his back than them, taking the good with the bad. Ride or die. You jump, I jump.

Enemy: you know what? fuck this person. Just seeing them pisses him off. And it’s mutual. Usually will always come to blows.

Slow-burn: Stray’s never been good at relationships, and he’s never had a serious one. Primarily because he doesn’t think very highly of his value as a partner. He’s done bad things, and is under no illusion that he’ll continue to do so. 

Dog-sitter: When shit’s going down, he knows Vega will be in good hand with them. If he ends up dead, he knows they’ll make sure he’s taken care of and happy. For that, they have Stray’s gratitude and he feels like he owes them big.