burn down the disco, hang the blessed dj : gallery

[callisto]

pls don't post, thanks! ♥

[callisto]

[spoiler=redo this :V]

[div style="margin:auto; width:50%;"]general — i am the son and the heir of a shyness that is criminally vulgar
    → kurt fitzroy / the new world / human / cisgender male [ ♂ ] / homosexual / eighteen years old / born february 14 / resides in northstar district / face claim: tba / voice claim: tba / created january 7, 2018

history — i am the son and heir of nothing in particular
    → born to norman marcavellio and diane fitzroy, the product of a one-night-stand / raised solely by his mother and given very little information about his father / taught to fight, hunt, and heal by his mother, diane / traveled around the countryside with a band of other survivors / endlessly curious about the identity of his father; put pressure on diane from childhood to take him to meet norman, but she kept his true identity a secret until his seventeenth birthday / shortly after turning seventeen, stumbled upon the northstar district; lived in the hotel with the other cardless demos for about a year before finally earning the trust of his peers and an i.d. card / moved into a small two-bedroom apartment in the district, shared with his ailing mother

anatomy — shut your mouth, how can you say i go about things the wrong way?
    → human / cis male [ ♂ ] / 6 feet 4 inches tall / curly, reddish-ginger hair / fish-like face with puffy cheeks, plump lips, and round eyes / slight, boyish stubble / dull green eyes with dark bags underneath / lanky, long-limbed build / skinny, near bone-thin / typically wears loose jeans, faded solid-color tees, and a forest-green bandana wrapped around his head / bruises easily and is prone to migraines

 

behavior — i am human and need to be loved, just like everybody else does
    → introvert / INFP-T / melancholic / neutral good / compassionate, patient, pacifistic, quiet, inquisitive, humble, clever ( + ) / depressive, anxious, socially awkward, insecure, self-pitying, impulsive, moody ( - ) / believes himself to be heterosexual, but is actually homosexual; confuses platonic feelings for females as romantic ones, and romantic feelings for males as admiration / voracious reader, especially loves comics and graphic novels / loves to learn / easily intimidated and afraid of violence / has trouble directing others; a follower rather than a leader / total mama's boy / romanticizes the idea of his missing father, and imagines norman as a hypermasculine role model / obsessed with masculinity and becoming his idea of the "perfect man" / interested in medicine and healing, but deathly afraid of blood / very good with tools; enjoys tinkering with things to make new objects / moderate social anxiety and self-esteem issues as a result of his sheltered upbringing + identity

 

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        "uh, you want me to talk about myself?" kurt said, thick red eyebrows furrowing as he spoke. by the expression scrawled across his face, it was easy to see that the request had caught him off guard. people weren't usually interested in hearing what he had to say; even less so in hearing him talk about himself. he thrust his hands into his pockets, suddenly self-conscious now that he was aware he had an audience. kurt cleared his throat with a rough cough before speaking again: "well, my name is kurt. kurt fitzroy, actually." in this post-document age, there were no papers to sign and no forms to fill out; outside of keeping track of who was related to who, he didn't think there was much use for a familial moniker. "i'm eighteen," he glanced upward, as if doubting himself. "and i live in northstar district." he jostles around for something deep in his pockets, before producing a flimsy piece of cardstock: he flips the card, his official i.d., revealing its charcoal-sketch front. kurt held it aloft for a few moments, before quickly retracting his hand — suddenly, sheepishly realizing that there was no need to present his identification — and stuffing it back into his pocket with a balled fist. a rosy blush glowed from his freckled cheeks, betraying his embarrassment. oh. right. he mused. his red curls flopped lazily, like miniature flags, as he shook his head from side-to-side. ever since receiving his i.d., he supposed he'd become a little overeager about whipping it out whenever the moment called for it. or, in this case, whenever it was even marginally relevant.

        when prompted to tell a little more about himself, kurt was almost dumbfounded; terminally shy, he wasn't used to having this much attention paid to him. or, really, any attention at all; he liked to keep to himself, and most of his peers in the district were too busy minding their own business to seek him out a boy who was so obviously unfond of the attention. "um, i don't really know what to say," kurt admitted. a self-conscious grin split his flushed cheeks, as if trying to occupy his lips so that he wouldn't have to speak with them. "i like to read, i guess. comics, mostly. but i read regular books too — obviously." his hands emerged from his pockets, and he clasped them gently in front of himself, rubbing one thumb over his other palm as if to soothe himself. however embarrassed he was talking about the non-negotiables, he was doubly so talking about his hobbies: he was almost ashamed of how downright domestic he was, compared to the other boys. where they were all rough-and-tumble, hardened veterans of a life post-blackout, he was just...well, he was jurt kurt. plain 'ol kurt, who liked to read and hide in his room all day. there was a part of him that wished he was like the others, a star athlete, perhaps talented in hand-to-hand combat or hunting, but alas — wishing on shooting stars yielded fruitless results. his expression soured, and his lips curled into a frown. his thoughts of insecurity had leaked from the confines of his mouth and spilled onto his freckled face, and there they remained until he corrected himself with another cough. "i'm pretty good with tools. like, i can fix something for you, if you want — a broken toy, maybe, or a chair that's got crooked legs." kurt brightened a bit, eager to prove that he had a hobby that wasn't entirely emasculating. he considers reaching into the red toolbox at his feet in order to demonstrate., but decided not to; he knew his mother was still asleep, and he'd make too much noise if he started taking things out now. another time, kurt promised silently, gently pressing the top of the toolbox shut.

speaking of which... elsewhere, in an adjacent room separated from this one by a very thin wall, one could hear the gentle drone of a person snoring. he motioned toward diane's bedroom with an outstretched hand. "sorry," he apologized."that's my mom. diane," any minute now, perhaps she'd emerge from her bedroom in order to introduce herself; until then, though, he supposed he'd have to do it for her. "i live with her. have for my whole life. she, uh, she raised me by herself." a glimmer of pride dwelled in his green eyes; diane was the hardest worker kurt had ever known, and he loved her dearly. at the same time, however, he felt almost robbed of a normal childhood — as normal a childhood as one could have, this day and age — for he'd grown up without ever knowing his father. he wanted nothing more than to meet the man, just to see him and perhaps reach out and touch him, just once... as badly as he wished to fill the void in his life that norman had left behind, though, deep down kurt knew he'd never be able to. wherever they'd come from, they were long gone now.

"listen, i have to go now," he spoke, suddenly. he had grown a little misty-eyed at the thought of his childhood, and was eager to excuse himself. "catch you some other time! promise!"

and with that, the lanky, red-haired kurt disappeared into the comfort of elsewhere.

[callisto]

[div style="margin:auto; width:50%;"]general — your head's like a haunted house
    → edmund "eddie" o'malley / the new world / human / cisgender male [ ♂ ] / bisexual / twenty-nine years old / born november 30 / resides in the badlands / face claim: tba / voice claim: tba / created march 23, 2018

history — a tutti-frutti written over the caption
    → born to eamon and eutrice o'malley /

anatomy — misdiagnosis with-a the mostest
    → human / cis male [ ♂ ] / 5 feet 8 inches tall / curly, dark brown hair / fish-like face with puffy cheeks, plump lips, and round eyes / patchy, uneven beard / dull, dark brown eyes with pronounced bags underneath / short, stocky build / typically wears camouflage print pants rolled at the ankles, dirty sneakers, and faded solid color tees

 

behavior — cue the evil smile
    → introvert / INFP-T / melancholic / chaotic neutral / compassionate, patient, pacifistic, quiet, inquisitive, humble, clever ( + ) / depressive, anxious, socially awkward, insecure, self-pitying, impulsive, moody ( - ) /

 

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[div style="margin: auto; width: 55%; font-size: 11px; line-height: 11px; text-align: justify;"]
        bacon ipsum dolor amet ball tip porchetta boudin, pig bresaola flank pork tenderloin rump short ribs cupim prosciutto kielbasa jowl drumstick. jowl brisket ham hamburger. alcatra beef ribs pig, capicola tongue porchetta pancetta drumstick bresaola cow kevin pork. tenderloin pancetta short loin alcatra tongue. tail meatloaf pastrami filet mignon sausage ham jerky jowl pork. pancetta pork turducken rump. jowl turducken tri-tip shoulder bacon. hamburger tail meatball tri-tip pork chop shankle ham hock pancetta. ribeye sirloin meatball pork belly, venison flank ham cupim chuck ground round strip steak sausage short ribs. alcatra ham hock tri-tip kielbasa pig, flank venison chuck kevin frankfurter short ribs shank turkey. pork belly salami beef pancetta meatloaf. ham hock frankfurter meatball, bacon strip steak shank t-bone hamburger shankle turducken cow chicken. pastrami rump pork loin turkey, pancetta shoulder corned beef cow alcatra t-bone kevin strip steak bacon. pork loin beef bresaola, hamburger pig frankfurter tongue kielbasa sirloin chicken jerky sausage swine. bacon capicola chuck strip steak, cow pancetta tail pig short ribs pork loin shoulder. bresaola andouille cow, strip steak ham hock jowl chicken pastrami frankfurter ham tail. filet mignon strip steak spare ribs salami shankle. bacon doner porchetta jerky flank tri-tip, landjaeger ham hock capicola cupim ball tip pork belly alcatra. flank capicola andouille, rump biltong beef pork tail prosciutto picanha brisket shoulder pork chop. pig prosciutto strip steak short loin boudin salami, cow venison pork belly biltong kielbasa picanha porchetta shank. biltong corned beef shankle, meatloaf tongue beef venison. doner porchetta bresaola, tail pork belly frankfurter pig short ribs shankle. tail shoulder frankfurter, chicken doner t-bone corned beef ham leberkas filet mignon picanha sausage pork belly kevin beef ribs. salami short ribs filet mignon, venison corned beef pig sausage meatball doner porchetta cow. beef ribs short loin shoulder jowl. ground round porchetta chicken rump, meatloaf landjaeger shankle pastrami ham tri-tip boudin leberkas prosciutto. kevin short ribs hamburger rump, pork short loin ribeye frankfurter pork loin beef. prosciutto capicola pork belly, shankle salami sausage ball tip kielbasa filet mignon hamburger pork chuck. pork chop doner tri-tip ground round prosciutto, jerky fatback bresaola hamburger capicola boudin alcatra jowl kevin landjaeger.

[callisto]

[div style="margin:auto; width:50%;"]general — i wanna be your passenger
    → aoife ( ee-fuh ) o'rourke / wilderness rising / domestic feline / cisgender female [ ♂ ] / homosexual / eighteen moons old / born november 30 / resides in solis imperium / set: tba / voice claim: tba / created march 28, 2018

history — take me as your prisoner
    → i'll write this later lol i hate histories

anatomy — i want to be an alien
    → domestic feline / cis female [ ♂ ] / tortoiseshell-and-white with reddish-tinted coat / dark brown speckles across bridge of nose, flank, and rest of pelt / round, moony heterochromatic eyes, one blue and one brown / short, stocky build / rather muscular / faded pink scarring across face and flank / plumed, white-tipped tail / wears a black bandana and, on special occasions, a miniature, ragged witch hat / carries a leather satchel: contains her books, trinkets, "space junk", and some extra food for when she's out all night stargazing

 

behavior — take me please, oh alien
    → extrovert / ENFP-T / sanguine / chaotic good / energetic, quick-witted, intelligent, spirited, studious, cheerful ( + ) / crass, blunt, stubborn, snarky, mercurial, hot-tempered ( - ) / loves space, shiny objects, human tools, stars, and astronomy / avid collector of space memorabilia and astronomical tools, which she has lovingly dubbed her "space junk" / simultaneously afraid of the dark and fascinated by the night sky / recurring dreams of outer space, weightlessness, being deaf, and other space themes

 

---

[div style="margin: auto; width: 55%; font-size: 11px; line-height: 11px; text-align: justify;"]
        "yeah, gimme a minute!" aoife cried out, bent over what was left of a human textbook. its battered spine was ragged and covered in dirt, and the bold lettering on its side had long since been obscured; not that the pretty tortoiseshell had much use for human language, anyway. she couldn't read, and wasn't interested in learning; what aoife was interested in, however, was the rest of the textbook's contents, namely its many diagrams and pictures. "i said, gimme a minute!! i'm busy!" the multi-colored she-cat heard her name called again and again — aoife! aoife! aoife! like a steady drumbeat that seemed to get louder and more incessant the more she ignored it — but simply shook her head stubbornly at every refusal. stars, can't they see i'm in the middle of somethin'? she huffed. she rolled her eyes, expressing her exasperation at having been interrupted. with that, aoife stomped authoritatively, using one white-tipped paw as a bookmark, and fixed a pointed stare at the figure in front of her.

      "well, whaddaya want?" she asked. a little puff of hot air escaped her berry-pink nostrils, and her mismatched gaze was icy. it was obvious that aoife didn't take lightly to being interrupted, but what reached her ears next distracted her completely: "oh?" she mewed, her brows raising a little, exposing a bit more of her forehead. "ya wanna hear about me?" the girl's expression morphed from stormy to incredulous, and she was quite taken aback by the request. she was no wallflower, but she wasn't often asked to speak about herself; aoife was, by all accounts, something of an acquired taste. a reddish blush burned bright on her cheeks, and she was suddenly grateful that her thick pelt obscured it from view. well, uh, let's see... her pads rubbed against the smooth paper surface of her makeshift book-podium as she mired herself in thought, unsure of where to start. "my name is aoife. eeee-fuh." she had grown used to having her name butchered, and thus spent an uncomfortably long moment pronouncing the first syllable. "aoife o'rourke is m'full name," the last bit trailed off, for she wasn't nearly as confident in her surname as she was in her given. o'rourke felt stiff and professional, which were two things that aoife was decidedly not. "i live in the solis imperium, and i, uh," as of the last two weeks she was, anyway. "i'm a recruit, i guess. for now!"

wip im tired as shit