#fairly average for black cis men to have long hair or like longER than white cis men

[conceptofjoy]

I was looking at your Grandpa + Mom art and I just realized Mom's hair became Waaaay straighter when she grew up. Was that intentional... esp with Grandpa's. Gestures at all of that.

YEAH!!!!!!!!!!!! !! !

omg i didnt think anyone was gonna notice, honestly i made young roxy's hair short in the way that a lot of non black caretakers dont know how to deal with black kid's hair rather it being solely a gender thing. her later bubble flip hair is ironic, but its so blended with her past that even she doesnt know if she's doing it as a cheeky gesture or not. hence the laid baby hairs, but her hair is so fried from her straightening it constantly.

[downspiral-dreamer]

CHARACTER INTRODUCTION: Beck - Six Feet Under The Stars

I wasn’t going to put this up because it will inevitably have many spoilers from my novel, but on the one hand, I rarely finish any novel I start, and on the other hand, I highly doubt anyone is actually gonna want to read it, so I’m not really spoiling anyone here. And besides, Beck and specifically JUST Beck is basically the only character I have energy for right now I have energy for right now because apparently he’s a comfort character for me, so I figure it’d probably be a good idea to get an intro for him out there. I might try to work on the novel some more later, we’ll see.

TRIGGER WARNING: mentions of severe bigotry, su*cide, scars, and betrayal.

EDIT: this got way too long lmao but it was nice to kind of map out Beck’s life before the novel starts, so feel free to ignore this post if you don’t wanna read a short biography lmao, this was almost entirely more character development for me than anything.

                                                             ~ * ~

full name: Leslie Bryant Faulkner nicknames: Beck (his chosen name after he lost all memories and identity), Les. age: He was 30 when he died, so unless he puts energy into changing his appearance, that’s the age he presents as. gender: Cis male. sexual orientation: Pansexual with a leaning toward men. hair: Long, it falls against his shoulders. In life he was a very light blond, and still is, though there are now silvery strands interwoven, as well as the faintest green tinge; effects that happen the longer you’re in the afterlife - it’s sort of their form of aging. eyes: Grey. Though they go a cloudy white when he’s expending high amounts of energy. build: Average weight, slightly shorter than average height. birth place: London, England, though his family moved to a small eastern town in North America when he was young. ethnicity: English, scottish, welsh, irish, danish, and romanian; as far as he is aware. He’s quite the mutt. scars/body markings: The most noticeable are the scars that form a ring around his neck from how he died. He has various other scars on his arms, legs, and face, some from his own volition but most from the hard life he led before he died. He has a few small tattoos, one of a cat’s silhouette and one of a crescent moon to match the sun tattoo his brother had. zodiac sign: Sagittarius. alignment: Chaotic neutral. positive traits/strengths and skills: Passionate, fun-loving, clever; he once had a love for journaling, can throw a mean punch, and beat almost anyone at a drinking contest. He once played the violin, and enjoyed it immensely. negative traits/flaws: Growing cynicism, an addictive personality, mischievous; has a habit of pushing people away then clinging to them then repeating the process.

                                                                          ~ * ~

Beck was born in the year of 1882, in London, England, to a poor family; unable to continue making a living there, his family moved to a small town on the eastern coast of North America with the hope that many had of finding a better life across the sea. Beck was nine years old when they moved. Life was fairly uneventful for a while; his father worked as a coal miner while his mother worked at home trying to teach Beck, as well as his older sister - and his baby brother, born a little less than a year after they moved to America.

He was a difficult child, constantly curious and mischievous to a fault; any waking moment he had was spent exploring the town and the surrounding fields, trying to befriend any living thing he came across. He found it hard to make friends, if only because he was unable to go to the school with the other children, his family unable to afford it. More often than not, Beck found himself on the receiving end of mockery; the many reasons included his family’s financial status, his love for books, and the care he had for small animals - after getting into numerous scuffles with other boys in town to keep them from hurting the local wildlife, or the stray cats, he grew a ‘reputation’ for being a pansy, a girl, and other more vicous names. Physical fights were common, despite how much his mother fretted over him.

So while he still loved to explore and get into mischief, as Beck grew older, he spent most of his time at home helping to take care of his younger brother, and taking care of a small runt of a black cat that he had saved from a dog. He had become attached to the cat immediately and his parents had reluctantly agreed to let him keep it, as long as he took full responsibility.

After reaching adulthood, Beck had to leave home and find lodging in the city; his father had been injured in the mines, and couldn’t work anymore, leaving himself and his elder sister the primary breadwinners. His brother was still young by then; only just turned ten, and couldn’t work properly, though he tried to help by catching fish in the river near the town.

Beck managed to snag a job working for a newspaper office, helping with the printing press and selling papers. Every penny he managed to make he tried to send back home, oftentimes sleeping underneath awnings or roof outcrops on the street instead of paying for lodging elsewhere, just to make sure his family managed to get by.

He would visit home on the holidays, and had a close relationship with his brother; while Beck would send letters back home when he lived in the city, he would oftentimes write a separate letter, specially for his brother.

After an altercation with one of the higher ups in the business he worked for - a drunken dispute caused over a disagreement on wages - Beck moved back home for a time, at the age of 26, taking a temporary job at the mines his father had once worked for. He hated the work, hated the feeling of being smothered deep inside the earth, but he couldn’t afford to be picky.

A cave in happened at the mines, and while Beck made it out alive, he was injured, and several of the miners had died. After extensive pleading from his parents and siblings, Beck left the mining business and once again moved back to the city.

From there, he mostly worked odd jobs, including but not limited to bartending, being a stable hand, and a chimney sweep. His brother was old enough now to work, so Beck was able to save more money than before, eventually getting a place of his own - a tiny flat in downtown, but a place of his own.

And then it all began to go downhill. But for Beck, it seemed to be uphill - while working across the street from a theatre, he began to see one person in particular quite often: a man around his age, called Thomas, a middle class citizen with a love for theatre. The two of them hit it off, often going for drinks at a nearby pub as Beck got off work right around the time the final show of the night ended.

(MOST OF THE TRIGGERING CONTENT TAKES PLACE BELOW, SO READ ON WITH CAUTION.)

They became close friends, but Beck soon realised a complication: he thought of Thomas as more than friends, he thought of him romantically. He had had these feelings before in his life, but kept them secret for the sake of his family’s pride, and for his own benefit - he had come to terms with the feelings long ago but still kept them to himself.

After spending months writing journal entries about Thomas as a way to vent his feelings, he finally made a fateful decision: on his own birthday, December 13th, he would make a move. It seemed to him that Thomas felt as close to him as he did, and after all, this was the city, was it not? Surely he wasn’t misreading the signs, that maybe Thomas was like him, maybe they could have some sort of future together, outside of drinking buddies.

So, the night of December 13th, after leaving the pub where he and Thomas had made a toast to his birthday, they went for a walk as they often did, lingering for a while on the bridge near the center of the city, over the river. Beck was a tangle of nerves and butterflies in his stomach, but noticed that Thomas was watching him… that was a sign, right?

Beck tried to say something, but couldn’t get much more than the other’s name and a bit of stammering out so he took a chance and leaned in to attempt pecking the other on the cheek.

And that was when all hell broke loose. Thomas reacted violently, with disgust, and attempted to throw a punch. Beck panicked and ran, not stopping until he had run a good distance, unable to make it all the way back to his flat. He collapsed near a stable in an attempt to catch his breath and stave off the only worsening panic attack.

Before long, he heard a commotion, and hoisted himself up and onto the roof of the stable for a better look, only to see that Thomas and a mob of other men were coming down the street in his direction.

What followed was a frenzied chase, ending with Beck throwing himself into his flat and barricading the door, feeling as though his heart would explode, from both pain and exertion. The men were soon outside, beating at his door, and he could hear Thomas’ voice amongst the din, shouting the same threats and fury that the others were, all the noise blending into a blur of God’s so-called rage and wishes for death.

It seemed that there would be no escaping this. There was only one other exit out of his home, besides the front door, and it was a window already nearly shattering as the mob tried to gain entry.

So in a haze of terror and sorrow and grief and wishing so hard that he was with his family, Beck made one last decision: he would not allow the men outside to have the satisfaction of killing him and patting themselves on the back for it, as if they had done anything close to God’s will.

At first, in his daze, Beck crouched in the corner, drinking all the liquor he could find in his cabinets at a breakneck pace, before finally realising that that would take too long. He had hoped that it would kick in faster, hoped that if he were to go, then he could go in a way that seemed less violent, but no.

He managed to drag a rope out from his storage closet, throwing it over one of the rafters above his table, and well, one can imagine what happened next. Thomas and the men finally broke down the door only to find that they would not get the blood they had been thirsting for, because it was too late.

Beck has spent his life in the afterlife ever since; time doesn’t exist there so he wasn’t sure how long it took before he realised that he could haunt earth, before he realised that he had special powers, before he found out that he was a category of ghost known as a poltergeist. The only trick was… he had no memories. He had no memory of who he was, of who his family was, of how he died or of any of the past life he had lived. Outside of the scars on his body giving hints as toward how he died, and the clothes he had died in, Beck had nothing except the nickname he eventually gave himself.

Then the rumours are spread of a boy who can see ghosts, can talk to them, where almost no other living person can. And, well, the curiosity got the better of him, and that’s where our story starts.

[blooddrinkingbartender]

Of Mer and Men | Elder Scrolls Verse

I finally caved and made an Elder Scrolls verse for my lads on here. You’ll find all their profiles beneath the cut (if there is one.) I took a bit of creative liberty with the vampires in this as well, I hope that’s all right. 

Bilmae ‘Bill’ Golden-Smith 

Name: Bilmae ‘Bill’ Golden-Smith  

Age: Appears 31, but is over 800 in reality  

Birthday: 7th of Evening Star

Gender: Cis Male (he/him/his pronouns) 

Powers and Abilities: Resistance to disease, resistance to poison, harder to detect while sneaking, and illusion spells are more powerful than average, resistance to frost. Shadow abilities; creating tentacles made out of shadows, usually to grab/restrain an opponent, or do things like snap limbs. He can also leap an abnormally long distance and summon an orb of shadow that explodes into spikes. Battle Cry (Nord Ability) and a higher resistance to frost because of his Nord Heritage as well as his vampirism. 

Weaknesses: Fire, sunlight.

Sexual Orientation: Pansexual.

Race: Nord/Vampire

Faction: None (at the moment)

Current Residence: No fixed place of residence, wanders Tamriel. 

Mother: Gweene Golden-Smith (Deceased)

Father: Bilmae Golden-Smith. (Deceased) 

Height: 6’3" 

Weight: 200lbs 

Body Type: Mesomorph/Muscular 

Hair: Red, as is his beard. 

Eyes: Grey.

Skin: White 

Languages: Tamrielic, some of the Dragon Language, and Ayleidoon.

Distinguishing features: He has major burn scars on the right side of his abdomen, chest, part of his right arm, and just above his butt. A hunter managed to set him on fire. Luckily, before it could kill him, he managed to put himself out. That Hunter paid with her life.

If he doesn’t drink blood for a long time, he starts to age and look more monstrous/corpse-like. Drinking blood reverses this effect.

He has three scars on his chest that are either from arrows or crossbow bolts. They’re all under his left pec muscle. 

He has a birthmark on the back of his left hand that’s shaped like a crescent. He often jokes that it’s because one of his ancestors was a werewolf. 

Hobbies and Interests: Dancing, astronomy (might as well enjoy the stars if you’re nocturnal), origami, drawing, mythology (he has met some figures of myth, or so he claims), and smithing. He’s also pretty good at playing the lyre, the ocarina, and the accordion.

Occupation: No set occupation.

Skills: Smithing, Sneak, One-Handed Weapons, Illusion Magic, Light Armour, and Alteration 

Personality: He’s friendly, he’s confident, and he can be rather eccentric at times. He’s far from shy and he enjoys the company of others. He lives to entertain, laugh, spread laughter and merriment, and give and get validation.

However, he can come across as conceited, arrogant, a show-off, a bit of a large ham at times, and/or a little bit too full-on for some people. That said, he honestly doesn’t mean harm (not anymore at least) and if you’re his friend, he will kill for you and do what he can to keep you happy.

He’s usually quite hard to anger. He can laugh off most insults or even attempts to hurt him physically. However, if you do make him mad, it’s your funeral, or at least your mind’s. He does try to keep himself in check however. He has no plans to go back to the sadistic bastard that he used to be.

Basic Backstory: Starting out his life in Skyrim, Lord Bilmae Golden-Smith IV was the only survivor of the eleven children his parents gave birth to. His father was a lord and his mother was a blacksmith’s daughter who was married into the family.

Bilmae lived a fairly easy and unremarkable life with his loving mother, not-so-loving father, and a few servants. His father made sure he worked hard however, not wanting to hand him everything on a silver plate. That said, he was fairly well off, and spent his childhood and adult years getting ready to take on his father’s estate. On finding out his bloodline’s wealth and notoriety was founded on thievery, murder, extortion, and other crimes, he was not so willing to do so, but he was unsure of how to find a way out of it. 

However, at the age of 31 years old, he contracted Sanguinare Vampiris. He was infected on purpose, by a vampire who had lost his family to Bilmae’s legacy. Bilmae managed to hide the condition from his family, and when his parents died, dismissed his servants, left the estate to his distant cousins, and faked his death before going to wander.

He continues to travel around now, learning new things and trying new stuff to keep himself busy. He still drinks blood to sustain himself but he doesn’t kill unless it was someone he felt ‘deserved it’. He also kept up with all the changes in the world. He even adapted his speech as needed, keeping up with slang and staying savvy with the times.

Antonio Lombardi

Name: Antonio Lombardi (formerly Enriquo Giordano, as far as you’re concerned) 

Age: 38

Birthday: 8th of Last Seed 

Gender: Trans Male (he/him/his pronouns) 

Powers and Abilities: .Dragonskin ability to absorb magic. Natural higher resistance to magic. 

Sexual Orientation: Homosexual 

Race: Breton

Faction: College of Winterhold (sort of)

Current Residence: Has a home in High Rock, but travels.

Mother: Gertrude Giordano

Father: Benito Giordano

Siblings: Emily Giordano(Older sister) and Sophia Giordano (Younger sister)

Height: 6’2" 

Weight: 170lbs 

Body Type: Ectomorph

Hair: Black, shoulder-length, and slightly curly 

Eyes: Green.

Skin: Light brown 

Languages: Tamrielic, and some of the dragon language.

Distinguishing features: A benign mole underneath his left eye, and a slash scar across his cheek.

Due to scoliosis, his chest and back are slightly tilted to the side. This isn’t easy to see unless his shirt is off. It does cause him pain and also makes it harder for him to walk longer distances. 

He uses a cane to get around. He actually owns three canes; one has a sword hidden inside of it, another is extendable, and the last is a normal cane. He weaponised them after a bandit attacked him, causing the scar on his face.

He has habits of nodding his head, rhythmically tapping his foot or hand against the floor or the table, blinking at the same time as whoever he is speaking to, and gesturing with his hands while he talks.

He also has synaesthesia, seeing certain colours and shapes whenever he hears certain noises ‘connected’ to them. He also experiences smells on rarer occasions. 

Hobbies and Interests: His magic skills. He has dabbled in sleight of hand, misdirection, and mentalism (including hypnosis, which he uses his magic for), and he is very good at those too. 

He has also dabbled in Escapology, and is able to get out of most rope bindings, straightjackets, and pick locks. He also likes to read, cook, practise his tricks, and tend to plants.

Occupation: An administrator in a library and a stage magician. Currently working in Winterhold. 

Skills: Illusion magic, Speech, One-handed, Lock-picking, Sneak, Destruction Magic, and Conjuration. 

Personality: While he’s on stage, Antonio speaks with confidence, authority, and even some glee. 

Off-stage, he’s quiet, jaded, and very cynical. He prefers to just be left alone for the most part. He doesn’t have much faith in humanity. He also pretends to be a massive sceptic.

That said, he isn’t a complete asshole. He secretly has a lot of compassion and empathy for other people. He performs at orphanages and hospitals for free and donates a portion of his earnings to charity. 

If you can break past the guarded shell, you have someone a bit on the nicer side.

Basic Backstory: Antonio was born in Summerset to Benito and Gertrude.

He often found himself entertaining or at least occupying his own mind with various tasks. He also grew up in a strictly religious household, which he found himself hating as he grew older and it eventually put him off any kind of faith or servitude to the gods. He found himself interested in magic tricks and illusions after one of his neighbours showed him a few.

He started to teach himself when he was in teens and became very good at it, especially as he grew older. He also dabbled more in his Breton magicka, figuring out what else he could do with it. He also realised he was gay, much to his dismay. Even now, he keeps that firmly under wraps.

Eventually, at the age of 17, he had a falling out with his parents over his lack of religious belief. He went on a tirade on how their beliefs (or the fact that they hid behind them) were, in his words ‘a big steaming pile of shit’.

After being told his synaesthesia was a sign that he was being influenced by the daedra and he punched his father for it, he was essentially kicked out. Uncaring about that, he changed his name and went to High Rock to make a name for himself, remembering his mother’s stories of when she lived there. 

He started very small at first. He was able to find a place to stay. He worked as much as he could and performed his magic on the side. He was eventually invited to taverns and inns to perform and that got him attention and more money. He also witnessed a vampire feeding on a person, and this terrified him, but he remained determined to continue going and not let it get to him too much.

When he turned twenty, symptoms of his scoliosis started to become prominent, coming with pain and finding it harder to walk or run for longer distances. Luckily, this didn’t affect his magic shows too badly.

At the age of thirty, he started to wander to other places and live long term and do work. Where he officially became known as Lord Enigma when performing. He’s currently in Winterhold, helping in the Arcanium. 

Leofric Lawford

Name: Leofric Lawford 

Age: 35

Birthday: 10th of Rain’s Fall 

Gender: Cis Male (he/him/his pronouns) 

Powers and Abilities: Immune to Vampirism and most other diseases, Beast Form. Voice of the Emperor, and Imperial Luck. 

Sexual Orientation: Bisexual.

Race: Imperial/Werewolf 

Faction: Companions, also does bounty work and has affiliations with Dawnguard. 

Current Residence: Whiterun. 

Mother: Unknown. 

Father: Unknown.

Height: 6’5" 

Weight: 240lbs 

Body Type: Mesomorph/Muscular 

Hair: Light brown and slightly wavy

Eyes: Dark brown .

Skin: White 

Languages: Tamrielic, and Ayleidoon.

Distinguishing features: He has many many scars from his days of battling. He has a slight beard. It’s not as full as Bill’s, but it’s definitely fuller than basic stubble. 

He doesn’t smile very often. If you see him do it, take a picture; you’ll never see it again in your life otherwise.

He has dyslexia. It hasn’t been identified yet, so he’s been suffering in silence about it. He also has some slight shortsightedness, but makes up for that with his other skills.

Hobbies and Interests: Reading, raising butterflies, plants and botany (he also researches how to better weaponise them (such as by using sachets of herbs to cloak himself, or make oils and decoctions for better damage output) or heal with them, history, boxing, and surprisingly, painting. 

Occupation: Companion

Skills: Alchemy, creating potions and poisons alike, heavy armour, two-handed and one-handed weaponry, which he’s trained himself in since a very young age,blocking, and hand-to-hand combat. 

Personality: He is rather stoic, and guarded, but still kind, brave and benevolent.

Although a werewolf and harsh on criminals and other monsters, he has a soft spot for humans, pacifistic supernatural creatures of other species, and animals, rescuing them and treating them with a distant sort of kindness. He is also incredibly loyal to those he makes friends with. 

He also prefers to be fair in a fight, giving his opponents a fair chance to defend themselves and fight back. That said, he believes underhanded tactics can be a tool to use only when necessary. 

Basic Backstory: Leofric was born in Cyrodiil, and left at an orphanage soon after as a baby. He was looked after by his guardians and taught the skills he needed. It was believed he would simply become a member of the imperial watch when he was older.

However, he became fascinated by stories of the companions and what they did. He left the orphanage at the age of sixteen years old and honed his skills, eventually making his way to Skyrim.

He had already shown a lot of the qualities of the companions during his travels, and he had actually been noticed by some of the travelling ones. He was accepted after some trials and has been with them since. 

He eventually became a werewolf when with them as well, and has not regretted this choice. He sees this as a blessing and a privilege.