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Name: Davis Thorne (Birth name: Richard Roosevelt)
Compendium and Summon: Photo album that’s FILLED WITH REGRETS.. and Molotov cocktails.
Summon Level: 1
App stash: BOOM
Davis thorne, born Richard Roosevelt, was the eldest son of Robert and Eleanor Roosevelt. He has two younger brothers and a little sister, and all of them were enrolled into only the best private institutes their vast wealth could afford. These boarding schools became the foundation of Richard’s childhood; study, tests, grades, rinse and repeat. It was the same through his elementary days to his high school years, and a looping rat race between the children was born. Who had the best grades for this subject? Who could get their parents to actually compliment them. It was a game each child took turns winning, all except Davis. He was the only one who got disappointed looks from his parents no matter how well he did; because in the end, he’d be pit up against his prodigal siblings and he’d lose.
By the time he was 18, he’d managed to enroll himself into a relatively well known community college- but of course this fell under the radar in comparison to his younger siblings, all of whom won scholarships to venerable colleges overseas; under the age of 17, in fact. This obviously did not go unnoticed by Richard’s mother and father, and he became the target of hushed conversations at family gatherings. An embarrassment, especially as the oldest. Despite the treatment, Richard did try his best to top his cohort, but his many achievements paled in comparison to that of his relatives.
Eventually, he gave up. A long-awaited unravelling. He found solace in cheap booze in public pubs, fell into bad company and then slid into drug abuse like a steep, muddy hill. And like muddy hills, you can’t climb back up, so Richard could only sink in slowly until he was up to his ears. Over time, he managed to blow off all his savings (a feat, concerning his family’s prestige) and became desperate for money to continue his habit. Judgement clouded by desperation and withdrawal, he teamed up with some of his ‘buds’, and they all settled on a way to get themselves back on track financially. Burglary.
And it would’ve worked out just fine, hell, they might’ve even gotten away with a few thousands if the old couple weren’t on the verge of being beaten to death by his comrades- if Davis hadn’t bailed and dialed the police, easily pinning himself as guilty as well. Despite pleading guilty on the spot and outing all of his co-conspirators, this event became an ugly stain on him and his family’s spotless record, and everything instantly went downhill from there. His college expelled him, his highschool sweetheart left him, and his family disowned him.
Nowadays, he spends his time drinking and smoking his life away in self-pity. He’s long since kicked the whole drug episode, changed his name, but he’s nowhere near digging himself out of the societal pit he fell into. Heck, he’s even embraced it, maybe. Gave up on making a life for himself, Davis would say. Nothing he’s worth for. But if he decided that following a damned voice in his head would be a sensible thing..
He’s either really out of it, or a small part of him is desperate to be worth something again.
Update as of Chapter 2:
He was almost content with what he had- finally. He had some kind of purpose, and a bunch of people he could call teammates, at the very least.
Till Idylla had broken all of that down, after they'd all been questioned by the Blackbirds leader Crow.
The betrayal had stung, but not nearly as much as the fact that his 'heroism' he was so proud of, was nothing but bidding to give Idylla more power. And then there's the fact that he's effectively put three people into comas, and then his own non-existence.
Everything before was a lie, but under Crow's wing as a new member of the Blackbird, could he find the truth?
the last line is so cheesy it hurts
Personality: (Selfish) (Drunkard) (Cynical) (Sharp) (Composed) (Practical)
Davis is not a happy man. He’s a sour, bitter, cynical heads-up-his-arse kind of guy, not unlike the type of person you’d expect to see at a bar.. where you would often find him, mind you. It’s no surprise to see him looking disheveled either; the drunkard is down on his luck, and any meagre wage he manages to earn somehow is immediately spent on more drinks. Although, if he does have savings, don’t expect him to give you a nice treat. Davis is selfish- anything he earned is his alone to keep. Though to be fair, perhaps it’s his financial situation that made him this stingy.
He’s not the most pleasant company, but if you took the time to know him well, his (arguably) more redeeming qualities will start to show. He may talk shit, but he knows his shit; underneath that layer of booze is a sharp mind. Davis has quick wits and is well aware of his surroundings, even when drunk, and despite acting like a manchild for the most part, there’s still a piece of him that remains as the mature, functioning adult he’s supposed to be. It’s only really apparent in times of emergencies; he remains composed and rarely panics (at least not outwardly), choosing to solve his problems with a practical approach.
Update as of Chapter 2:
Davis is now an angry man. The quietly bitter, careless attitude of him has taken the backseat, and now he's finding it much harder to merely ignore and accept whatever troubles him, and sometimes that anger is misplaced. Having been forced to face the issues he'd been running from since the beginning, he's met a lot of realizations about others and himself and is finally starting to care- maybe a little too much. Outside of his new anger issues, he's relearning how it's like to care for people, and perhaps, just maybe, wants a new family to become a part of.
+ Quick wits, very resourceful
+ Has good alcohol tolerance. Great in emergencies, not great for his wallet.
+ Well composed. Then again, he wouldn’t tell you if he wasn’t.
= Mind over Heart
- He’s not the optimum image of fitness (lanky, sluggish.. etc)
- Talks shit at all the wrong times
Money (he needs it god damn)
Free samples and sales
Being bailed out on for whatever reasons
His dingy apartment. It’s something, though
Skinny dude makes anything look baggy on him.
Has insomnia. Do not give him your number, he will send you texts at 3 am in the morning.
Keeps a photo in his wallet. Looks to have been torn up at some point, then badly taped back together like a regretful afterthought. Still kinda hard to make out who it is.
Slouches all the damn time.
Knows how to play the violin (rich kids hobbies amirite).
Is a smoker.
Knows how to do the waltz and can be surprisingly good at it. If he's not drunk and stumbling all over, that is.
Will recite every Shakespeare play flawlessly if he gets drunk. He hasn't read one since he was 14.
Is 175cm, or 5'7''
First thing’s first, Davis can’t fight for shit. He’s the dude who would attempt to stop a rolling tire with pansy kicks. On the other hand, he’s an excellent improviser and makes use of his environment whenever possible. His summon is a bunch of floating beer bottles with rags stuffed into them, on which Davis can use his lighter to turn them into molotov cocktails, which will burst into flames on impact but will die fast, unless the object it hit is super flammable. If this move isn’t possible for him (i.e, left his lighter at home), he can shatter a bottle and use it to stab or just toss it whole, though it’s considerably less useful. Davis usually has five prepared, but they regenerate in groups, meaning he has to use all of them up to produce more. Between each 'sets' there's about a 10 second waiting period.
Davis normally uses his soul card as a magic carpet to gain elevation and literally drop bombs on his enemies. That said, his aim is shit, so watch out in case he accidentally drops it on a friend.
A loud clatter is heard as Davis accidentally knocks over a beer bottle, spilling its contents everywhere and earning a disgruntled mumble from him- not that it was particularly noticeable, especially not in a loud and unruly pub such as this one. He scooped the bottle back up as quickly as his drunken reflexes could, looked down at the wasted booze and sighed, taking a good swig of the rest of the bottle before he could waste it all again. Shit, it’s 1AM, he’s tired and his stomach is about to explode with beer but fuck, what’s he to do? Stop drinking and actually get a life? Nah. It was just routine by this point; be unable to sleep, get to a pub, get drunk, smoke.
He slams the now empty bottle onto the table and leans back into the creaky wooden chair, letting the pub’s orange lights swirl around in his vision for a bit before he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a packet of cigarettes; the shitty but cheap kind. He secures one between his teeth and, in a move so swift it’s obvious he’s done this many times, he reaches into his other pocket to grab his lighter and burn up the end of his cigarette.
With deep breath and an exhale full of smoke, he crosses his legs and waits for the bartender to kick everyone out for the night.
CHARACTER RELEASE FORM
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