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TIMOTHY'S DEAD CHARACTERS
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#5
[align=center][div style="width:500px;text-align:justify; line-height: 110%;"]Faustus had grown used to his brother’s terrible jokes. But even this one was one that impressed Faustus with its pure lack of humor at first. The man greeted the other with a smile, simply watching him in awe as he made a spectacle of himself. At least he was entertaining, and despite the lack of humor, Faustus couldn’t help but let out a small laugh through his nose.

But it was when Josiah called him... Faucet, did he give into a small laugh. ”Keep it up, I’m gonna tell all the new joiners your name is Joshua, your accent is just too thick to pronounce it the way Ma and Pa wanted it.” He smirked, shrugging away his hand with a roll of his shoulder.

”Ignore him. He’s upset he’s the only one with the cheesy accent,” He addressed those gathered. ”Hi Sydney, hi Slater. Y’all willing to share a little about yourselves?” He asked, curious to learn a little more about them. ”How did y’all end up here?” He paused, remembering some of the stories he had heard from members present, like Harlow, who had come here after losing her parents. ”Or if that’s not a good memory... y’all have a favorite livestock animal here? Personally, I’m a fan of Lovey, the calf with a heart on her head. Just because she gives Joshua here hell. Y’all seen that yet?” He smiled.
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#6
[align=center][div style="width:500px;text-align:justify; line-height: 110%;"]Osirus was hesitant to approach the meet and greet, but decided to push himself to do so. He came here seeking a home, and what was the worth of a home if it was empty? Trust was not an easy object to O, and though he was trying, he often had to ask himself if he was trying enough. He was wary of being fooled again, but even greater we he worried of not being fooled. He was terrified of being wrong- of someone not wielding that knife behind their back. Osirus had become so accustomed to betrayal that he was proactive in his means to break that trust first. So what if no one here held a hidden knife? What if his downfall was only himself? He had to try.

”Hey...” He greeted the others as he approached a little late to the party. Unsure where to place himself, he hesitated before standing near Sydney. If he was going to receive judgement, he’d rather it be from the young man in a straw hat and overalls. ”I’m Osirus.” Did he need to answer the man’s questions as well? Try, Osirus.

”I was nomadic before finding this place. Heard it’s... safe- it’s homely. I need that.” Ran a tattooed hand along the back of his neck, fingers brushing his short hair. Had to give to receive, right?
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#7
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TIMOTHY'S DEAD CHARACTERS
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#8
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[color=transparent].
[color=transparent].
[color=transparent]claire loves u!
SYDNEY WYATT
[i]we lay here for years or for hours | your hand in my hand | so still and discreet | so long we become the flowers | we'd feed well the land | and worry the sheep | and they'd find us in a week | when the cattle show fear | after the insects have made their claim | after the foxes have known our taste
Sydney felt his figure be swallowed up completely by a giant shadow, and he took the risk of glancing up to see the tall man beside him. He saw the tattooed hand, and for a brief moment alarm swept through him until he heard the man speak. Osirus. He liked that. He smiled up at the man instead, and offered a little wave. He glanced at Faustus and Josiah, quietly huffing a laugh through his nose.

"My pa though it time I go find somewhere to live, even for a lil while, says I should explore. He said that he's gonna be okay on his own and I needn't worry, but I still will. I'm glad I got to find such a nice spot," he tilted his head in agreement to Osirus' words. It was very homely, indeed. "I like Lovely too, she's a pretty calf. Reminds me of one of pa's cattle at home." He smiled wide, then, freckled cheeks dimpling.

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TIMOTHY'S DEAD CHARACTERS
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I KNOW I’LL SEE YOU TOMORROW — m&g
#1
[align=center][div style="width:500px;text-align:justify; line-height: 110%;"] Recently, there had been a few new faces around that Faustus did not know as well as he would like to. After all, they were a family, and what’s family if you can’t remember that one blonde woman’s name? He did his best to greet newcomers and make note of their names, but lately Faustus had been busying himself more than normal with his work load. Wren’s birthday had recently passed, and while he celebrated it with Josiah merrily, he could not help the memories that frequented his head as of late.

”Attention, everyone. I’ll be holding a meet and greet here as mentioned before. Please come and introduce yourselves to everyone.” He stood atop one of the old tree stumps near the livestock yard, a hand raised to get everyone’s attention nearby. Faus had mentioned hosting it in the meeting last week, so those who did not hear were sure to be aware of it, anyway.

The overseer waited a few moments for those nearby to approach, greeting each warmly, patting some he knew well on the shoulder, and exchanging small comments. He hadn’t spoke to Georgia in a few days, and he noticed Hachi had just received a haircut. ”Alright, I’ll go ahead and start us off,” he began once a good amount had joined, and the chatter died down. ”My name is Faustus, I’m one of the overseers here alongside Josiah. Please feel free to come to me if you have any questions about life here, I’m happy to help with anything you might need. It’s nice to have some new faces here, thank you for joining us, and welcome to the family.”
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#2
[align=center][div style="background=transparent; bordercolor=transparent; text-align: justify; width: 435px; font-size: 8pt; color: #808080; line-height: 120%; font-family: arial; text-transform: lowercase; letter-spacing: 1.5px;"]josiah was bad enough with placing names to faces as is, he could barely figure his way around when he was in charge of los santos for such a short period of time. he did make a meet and greet but he barely got to actually.. meet anyone. at least here he knew of a few people, especially when one of them happened to be his own older brother.

speaking of.. josiah came to stand behind faustus, resting one hand on his shoulder to give it a single squeeze. ❝ eh? faustus? nice to meet ya, man, i'm josiah, ❞ he said with a small grin on his face, ❝ that's weird, i'm also an overseer. ❞ this wasn't funny at all -- the joke wasn't clever in any sense of the word, but he was having a ball with it. ❝ wait, what did you say your name was, again? faucet?


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a falling star fell from your heart and landed in my eyes.
i screamed aloud, as it tore through them, and now it's left me blind.
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#3
[align=center]
[color=transparent].
[color=transparent].
[color=transparent]claire loves u!
SYDNEY WYATT
[i]we lay here for years or for hours | your hand in my hand | so still and discreet | so long we become the flowers | we'd feed well the land | and worry the sheep | and they'd find us in a week | when the cattle show fear | after the insects have made their claim | after the foxes have known our taste
Sydney had to admit that he was recent, but not brand new. He had been here a few days, maybe, once he had word of it. Now, he stood among the small group, his big, straw hat tipping over his forehead as he tried to block the sun from his eyes. He adjust his overalls on his shoulders, nodding his head slightly to Faustus and Josiah. It took the young boy a moment to realize what Josiah was going on about -- he knew, well, somewhat, that they were brothers, before it hit him and he snickered into his shoulder as he tightened the overalls strap.

"My name's Sydney," he spoke up after Josiah, a slight southern accent on the edge of his words.


TIMOTHY'S DEAD CHARACTERS
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#4
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⁠—❝ SLATER ZYREK ,❞

the man never spoke to anybody unless he was spoken to, and kept his head down most of the time. he was intimidated when he first came to the group, terrified of being exiled for either his looks or his unwelcoming personality at first, but upon finding himself in a welcoming environment with no aggression, and everyone treating each other as if they were their best friend without the whole 'stabbing behind their back' facade, he felt...at ease. he felt he could take a breath. he was standing a bit aside from everyone, leaning against a barrel. he didn't speak up at first, kept himself a bit on the down-low, looking from one person to the next. he had just come today, a newbie. he felt shy, somewhat, despite his bold-ish personality.

"i'm, uh, slater," his voice felt so distant.
⁠—❝ SLATER ZYREK ,❞

slater's amusement was shown through a slight raise of a brow and a slow, tired nod. he did not find it funny. neither of the jokes. but he thought he would give them some sort of satisfaction with his reaction, even if it was not deserved. they may be overseers, slater thought with a negative tone, but they better not try to get close to him.

he'd rather they and their unfunny jokes would stay far, far away. he dropped his arm against the barrel at the question about what brought him here. he hesitated. what did bring him here? he had not gotten word about the place. he just sort of showed up by accident. didn't have a sticker to his name but the clothes on his back. but he got by, didn't he? yeah, he did. he managed.

he drew his arm close, fingertips trailing across the lid of the barrel. he could feel the sharp splinters running against the tough pads of his hand, unable to penetrate the skin because of how thick it had grown. one nicked him, but he paid it no mind. it was but a moment of brief pain that dissipated almost instantly.

he did not know how to answer that question, nor the second one. he did not know the livestock by name yet, as he was yet to find himself busied with them. he supposed, somewhat, that he should get to know at least the company he'd be gaining, the type that wouldn't pry into cracks that were clogged for a reason.

"i like sheep," slater replied, straight-forward and to the point.
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