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heylolita00 · 1 year ago

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Aron Piper

#aron piper #men muscle #elite netflix #elite cast #netflix #cigarette #bad gyal #wallpaper #aesthetic wallpaper #icons #lockscreen #pretty boy

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ontheroadrp · 2 years ago

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GOOD TO SEE YOU AGAIN, RENO MOREN (aron piper fc)

life on the road can be tough, but we’re glad you and yours made it to taos!

basics

[ARON PIPER, CIS MAN, HE/HIM] ever heard about [RENO MOREN]? Out here on the road, they have a reputation of being [BOISTEROUS & ARDENT] but also [NEUROTIC & MERETRICIOUS], no wonder they’re called [THE REBEL WITHOUT A CLUE]. According to local legend, they’re [TWENTY-FIVE] and when they pull up to camp not a soul can mistake the sound of [CALL ME BY BLONDIE] following them. Some say they carry [his mama’s last pack of virginia slims, a moleskin journal that’s seen a pen too many, and a money clip with his name amateurly inscribed on the face] and have been traveling with [THE BOHEMIANS]. [kay, twenty2, she/her, est]

biography

TW slight mentions of mental health / unethical hospitalization, sex work

reno ( and what a name ) is an odd boy . for an odd child born to a very unusual family , it’s no wonder he grew up sideways . his family line has inhabited georgia since the start and yet he’d only visited a handful of times until it happened . reno can still remember the current of flood water underfoot as she trudged through the garden . she still remembers how mama’s sundress sopped up all the dirt and muck but the daisy print still remained even after the rain washed away her most prominent features . september always remembers . father tells her what she saw was just the wild throws of childish imagination . that it wouldn’t happen again . it doesn’t . but , with these so - called falsehoods , mama follows .

you were a young thing when it happened , hair still wild and bound in curls inherited from your grandmother when mama went away . you meet the rest in grief - sewn sweaters , still wearing the last pair of gloves mama made you for the winter . they’re a size too small now . that’s how everything felt . that you’d outgrown even yourself and were left with nowhere left to turn without running into something . and yet nothing you touched ever came out broken , it was you who would sustain the damage . mama was the only exception and you still kept that hurt buried within yourself . held a funeral for her in the back of your throat .

wearing black reminds you of how much color had drained from your life . the big green house you lived in as a child had lost its vibrant color , saccharine pink bedroom walls were long painted over , even the judgmental family portraits lining the stairwell lost their vigor . a love and knowing that rots from within , these halls will always interconnect them. always a door locked and a certain devotion to ignoring the rot in the baseboards . the chipping and peeling of the wallpaper is masked with another portrait . move the rug there , hide the blood stain . suddenly it becomes a chore to inhabit your own home . and it’s just you and your siblings for years . the youngest doesn’t recollect mama in the slightest and that still pains you . because they too , are an odd child born to a very unusual family . one without her . so , you dedicate yourself to keeping what remains of her spirit alive . even as your own memory of her begins to fray at the edges as you age , you become more and more like her as the days pass on . because are your mother’s child, and much like her , you will curdle like milk in the sun .

to appease your father , you meld into something hard and sterling . if you could not be yourself , you would devote yourself to proceeding the expectations of the man you hardly knew anymore . anything to divert eyes from how you simpered when his footsteps came quaking down the hallway . anything to distract from what bridles beneath it all . you make things priority above yourself & become so good at hiding behind this mask that you can’t seem to tell the difference between yourself and party favor anymore , and the fact of the matter is that while you are quiet and just so different in a way that your parents feared you would be , you blended in like a chameleon .

that’s the way it’s always been . but all the attempts at academic strivings and kodak ready smiles in the world can’t hide the fact that you were no better . the older you get , the more they could see . your grandmother , first . then your little sister’s best friend . a client . everything you tried to hide sits in your lap & you try to wrestle it into submission and sometimes it wins . they know you but you don’t . your eyes flash golden sometimes when you’re mad enough that you remember that you’re the one who put the burn stains on the wood floors of your family’s old home , but you’re more human than anyone can ever even imagine .

and as it turns out , casting the light upon yourself is just greater cause to display the cracks in your foundation . a rot from the outside in , a rot that starts in the home & one you package nicely into a carboard box and promptly unload within your first and only month at uni . and once more when you unload it into the trunk of the impala you lifted from the old diner you used to know . you inhabit this anguish as a personal hell you’ve always been evading . what is it to be on the run from one’s self ? they say the hurt begins in the place you hold most sacred , so at your soonest advance you leave & you haven’t stopped to look back since . perhaps that’s why you took so well to devotion . to love . to others . because it kept you occupied when those groveled voices came beckoning from the hind of your thoughts . something dormant lies within you that threatens to swat down that feathered thing called hope . but you won’t let it & you��ll fight tooth and nail to make sure it never does .

tl;dr: boy in perpetual chase the dying star , a certain brilliance forever beyond reach . just a country suburb - grown boy that witnessed the bearings of his mother’s ailing mental health far younger than he should have and would only come to know her through visits with a sterilized table separating them . slut in theory but honestly??? kinda repressed ; offers his body as a sacred lamb to be flayed , flesh of flesh . sees devotion as his ultimate cause because if he cannot be comfortable within himself , he will becom e a great mirror of desire : you’re happy , he’s happy .

stats

Athletics - 3

Burglary - 2

Contacts - 3

Crafts (Sewing, mending, basket making, weaving, etc. etc.) - 2

Deceive - 4

Drive (like, actual driving ability) - 3

Empathy - 3

Fight - 3

Investigate - 2

Lore (Kinda like knowledge) - 3

Navigation - 3