Failed art student, Cole, has only recently reappeared in NYC after dropping off the map entirely for the best part of a year. Now he's back in town and struggling to find his feet, a job, and all those other things that make up a so-called 'life'.
A frail figure with empty eye sockets that are blackened and eternally wet with tears. Her fingers are broken, splintered nails caked with blood and bruises blossom on her pale flesh in myriad shades of purple and green, her otherwise naked torso wrapped loosely in a shroud of rotted fabric. Her mouth has been stitched shut with great untidy loops of thread, the puncture marks from the needle still oozing blood. Her dark hair is matted and drips water, while her bare feet leave wet footprints in the Twilight beneath them.
With dyed blue hair left artfully messy, this young man exudes a brooding aura, a hint of 90’s heroin chic in pale skin and blue eyes that seem perpetually rimmed by dark shadows. Verging on tall, he lacks the physique of an athlete but seems to possess a wiry kind of grace and has little in the way of spare flesh. Nails habitually bitten down to nothing, his hands are long-fingered and agile and a few lines of ink forming the silhouette of a forest treeline curl down about his left wrist. On one side of his neck is a tattoo of two interlinked hands created by a clever use of negative space.
A wave of barely suppressed rage, anger bound to some half-sunk anchor just scant inches beneath the surface. Behind it, the greasy, oily taste of guilt and shame in the unforgiving light of the morning after. Occasionally, the fetid, dank stench of river water filters through, cloying and unpleasant...
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It's been over a year since anybody in Cole's class saw him. Maybe since that New Year's Eve party in 2021, though rumors of his death have clearly been exaggerated...
Say, doesn't he still owe you for a wrap of candy?
Desperate times call for desperate measures, right? It's an easy trap to fall into. Maybe you paid for a little 'company', maybe you saw him on one of those dates or hanging outside one of the seedier bars in town.
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- 30th December, 2021: A Chance Encounter
- 12th January, 2022: Getting Inked
- 13th January, 2022: Between Stations
- 16th January, 2022: Calling for Aid
- 16th January, 2022: The Maker's Mark
- 17th January, 2022: A Call to Arms
- 19th January, 2022: Different Perspectives
- 20th January, 2022: East Saxon Serendipity
- 20th January, 2022: Cut Bait
- 22nd January, 2022: Coffee and Contemplation
- 23rd January, 2022: Park Life
- 26th January, 2022: Bloody Mary & Hot Witch Shit
- 30th January, 2022: Arson At The Haunt
- 30th January, 2022: Silver Linings
- 1st February, 2022: Building Bridges
- 2nd February, 2022: Dye and Dharma
- 2nd February, 2022: Kind of Blue
- 4th February, 2022: A Meeting and an Offer
- 4th February, 2022: A Conversation
- 8th February, 2022: Ruined Art
- 9th February, 2022: Choices
- 10th February, 2022: Chicken Soup and Clear
- 12th February, 2022: Things that Go Bump in the Night
- 13th February, 2022: Living for the Weekend
- 13th February, 2022: Is it a long night if you don't remember sleeping?
- 15th February, 2022: Rhetoric and Dead Dogs
- 15th February, 2022: With a Song in your Heart
- 16th February, 2022: Coffee in Passing
- 16th February, 2022: Laying Low
- 21st February, 2022: An Apology At The Gold Bar
- 23rd February, 2022: Fireside
- 24th February, 2022: Verifying Regret
- 25th February, 2022: Carry Me Home
- 5th March, 2022: From Doom to Digimon
- 6th March, 2022: A Grave Situation
- 10th March, 2022: Sound of Silence
- 10th March, 2022: Anchors Aweigh
- 10th March, 2022: Crown Jewels
- 11th March, 2022: Ghost Rider Search
- 7th April, 2022: A Wintry Blossom
|AGE: Early 20s
CONCEPT: Failed Art Student
LIMINAL AURA: Anchor, 50 feet
GEIST: The Vindictive Victim
CLOSED BOOK: 3
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