#baird.intro

[ghostezco]

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⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ζ⠀⠀⩍.⠀⠀ ⠀ why⠀ ⠀ can't⠀ ⠀ 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦𝑜𝑛𝑒⠀ ⠀ go⠀ ⠀ away ⠀⠀⠀(.͟.͟.͟)⠀ ⠀ except⠀ ⠀ ʸᵒᵘ⠀ ⠀ /⠀ ⠀ you⠀ ⠀ can⠀ ⠀ stay.⠀⠀⠀⠀

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ㅤbasics, stats, wc & moreㅤ✶ㅤboardㅤ✶ㅤplaylistㅤ✶ㅤmusingsㅤ✶ㅤmobnav.

NAME: alistair isidro adlawan-loewel. ALIAS: ali or izzy. AGE: twentty-four, 18 june. GENDER & PRONOUS: bigender, he/they. SEXUAL ORIENTATION: bisexual, almost. ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: probably aromantic. ETHNIC: filipino-white. MAJORING: postgraduate fine arts. JOB: sculptor, activist, skakeboarder. HOMETOWN: upper east side, manhattan. PERSONALITY: deeply charismatic, quietly rebellious, unapologetically intense, haunted by the weight of inherited privilege and his unrelenting ambition.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ.✶៸ HEADCANONS.

born into wealth and influence, he walks a tightrope between expectation and defiance. his family name opens doors he’d prefer to pry open himself, and his sculptures—dark, twisted, unapologetically raw—stand as quiet protests against everything his heritage represents.

the process of creation for alistair is one of purging, of digging deep into reservoirs of feeling he can scarcely name. each piece he finishes is a love letter, a confession, and a rebellion all at once, often made in a flurry of restless nights, fuelled by strong coffee and self-imposed solitude.

strays—animals, objects, even people—find their way into his life with surprising ease. alistair surrounds himself with the overlooked and the forgotten, drawn to the beauty in imperfections, as if he alone understands their hidden potential.

alistair keeps late hours, working or wandering through the city until dawn, driven by his restlessness and insatiable curiosity. his most honest thoughts are reserved for these hours, spoken only to himself and to the silent city streets.

alistair’s world is built upon carving out his place in spaces he feels were never truly his. while his family’s legacy drips with the burden of history, his life is shaped by an almost visceral need to leave his own mark, however small or unconventional.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ.✶៸ AESTHETICS.

new york streets under the cover of darkness, the hum of distant traffic, the occasional murmur of jazz seeping from an old bar, the flicker of neon signs casting surreal hues onto pavement. shadows and streetlights carve their own forms around alistair as he navigates the city, the ever-watchful observer searching for meaning in the fleeting moments of solitude.

a Brooklyn loft turned studio, walls lined with half-finished sculptures that hold traces of his past work. paint-streaked floors, stone dust lingering in the air, chisels left askew across a marble slab. In the quiet hours, his space transforms, hosting silent reflections and passionate outbursts of creativity. art here is raw, deeply personal, rejecting conventional beauty in favour of capturing the essence of his subjects, no matter how unsettling.

nights spent skating aimlessly through alleyways, leaning into turns that carve the cityscape into his personal gallery. the worn wheels against concrete and the rhythm of gliding motion are as familiar as his own pulse. when the night grows still, he finds solace in a smoke under streetlights, enveloped in moments where silence is louder than words.

a manhattan brownstone he seldom visits, its opulent furnishings and antique décor a reminder of what he left behind. framed portraits, heavy velvet drapes, glass chandeliers, each room arranged to perfection and frozen in time. he steps through it as one would a museum—observing, not belonging, aware that its extravagance serves as nothing more than a gilded cage he once escaped.

a leather-bound notebook filled with sketches, cryptic notes, and fragments of ideas, its pages littered with glimpses into his inner life. within these pages are not only ideas for future sculptures but fleeting reflections, half-formed philosophies, and a record of the moments that strike him with an undeniable urgency.

sunsets on rooftops overlooking the city, as he sits quietly, absorbing the fading light that turns skyscrapers into silhouettes against a darkening sky. in these moments, he is neither the sculptor nor the heir but simply a witness to the beauty of passing time.

vintage leather jackets and worn-in boots, a nod to his rejection of wealth’s polished image.

silent city parks at dawn, a faint fog veiling the benches and trees, as he finds quiet in the unclaimed hours between night and day.

the smell of stone dust and oil paint mingling in the air, a constant reminder of his devotion to creation.

old vinyl records playing in the background, their soft crackle underscoring the stillness of his studio late at night.

[apateau]

⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀‘⠀ 𝅾 ۡ ⠀ 𝐏 𝐈 𝐍 𝐊 ⠀ 𑁤 𝑟𝑖𝑑𝑒 🇴​͟🇷​⠀ 𝑑𝑖𝑒 ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝑼𝑮𝑯 .ᐟ ⠀ 𝙰𝚂 𝙸𝙵 ⠀› ⠀ 𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚎 𓍼 ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ᑦ ᴬ ᴹ ⠀ ㅤ̸ ⠀ 𝕟̵𝕖̵𝕨̵ 𝕪̵𝕠̵𝕣̵𝕜̵ .ᐣ ⠀ ⠀

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ✿ ᮫ basics ഒ stats ഒ analysis ഒ wanted c ഒ mobnav.

ㅤㅤ✿ ׄ name: merope eleutheria de valmont. ㅤㅤ✿ ׄ nickname: merry, rarely used, only by those close to her. ㅤㅤ✿ ׄ age: twenty two. ㅤㅤ✿ ׄ date of birth: january 1, 2002. ㅤㅤ✿ ׄ ethnicity: french-korean ㅤㅤ✿ ׄ place of birth: seoul, south korea. ㅤㅤ✿ ׄ gender & pronouns: cis woman, she/her. ㅤㅤ✿ ׄ sexual orientation: pansexual. ㅤㅤ✿ ׄ romantic orientation: demiromantic. ㅤㅤ✿ ׄ religion: agnostic. ㅤㅤ✿ ׄ occupation: senior music major, aspiring composer.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ✿ ̸ PERSONALITY

ㅤㅤ✿ ׄ labels: the eternal perfectionist, the porcelain enigma, moonlit muse. ㅤㅤ✿ ׄ positive traits: composed, articulate, perceptive, and fiercely devoted to her craft. ㅤㅤ✿ ׄ negative traits: emotionally repressed, self-critical, distant, and bound by the fear of imperfection. ㅤㅤ✿ ׄ fears: failure, vulnerability, and becoming too deeply known. ㅤㅤ✿ ׄ habits: taps her fingers in rhythm to songs in her mind; journals obsessively, filling pages with thoughts she’ll never speak; collects old, annotated sheet music like relics. ㅤㅤ✿ ׄ goals: to compose a piece that can express all the emotions she hides, to understand herself beyond her family’s expectations. ㅤㅤ✿ ׄ alignment: true neutral, guided more by self-preservation and a need to maintain her equilibrium.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ✿ ̸ HEADCANONS & AESTHETICS

ㅤㅤ✸ 𝑖 ֪ moonlight sonata plays softly in her dorm room as she writes, pages scattered around like echoes of thoughts she’ll never say aloud. ㅤㅤ✸ 𝑖 ֪ her silver-blonde hair is always meticulously brushed, each strand falling in place like the last note of a perfectly composed melody. ㅤㅤ✸ 𝑖 ֪ in love with the quiet spaces—empty libraries, midnight balconies, gardens at dawn; places where her thoughts can breathe. ㅤㅤ✸ 𝑖 ֪ feels a profound connection to the night; it’s the only time she allows her true self to slip past the barriers of expectation. ㅤㅤ✸ 𝑖 ֪ keeps old postcards from paris and seoul, weathered edges reminding her of the fragments of a life she’s tried to reconcile within herself. ㅤㅤ✸ 𝑖 ֪ perfume bottles and vintage jewellery inherited from her mother sit untouched in her room, pieces of a legacy that both weighs on and protects her. ㅤㅤ✸ 𝑖 ֪ merope is enchanted by the timelessness of hand-written letters. she keeps a bundle of letters from family in a satin ribbon, though she rarely replies directly. when she writes, she pours herself into her words, knowing few will ever read them. ㅤㅤ✸ 𝑖 ֪ hidden in her dorm room, merope has a collection of delicate music boxes, each one a relic of an era she feels strangely nostalgic for. on sleepless nights, she’ll wind one up and let the hauntingly tinny tune fill the silence. ㅤㅤ✸ 𝑖 ֪ to merope, love is like music—intangible, requiring patience, skill, and passion to truly understand. she fears that if she lets someone play her melody, they’ll either abandon her or find her too complex to handle. ㅤㅤ✸ 𝑖 ֪ she’s intrigued by the night sky, feeling a connection to its cold beauty, but she doesn’t understand the constellations or planets. there’s something comforting in not knowing it all, in allowing herself to be lost within the vastness.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ✿ ̸ FAVOURITES

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ✿ ׄ music: beethoven’s moonlight sonata, debussy’s clair de lune, anything sombre and timeless. ㅤㅤㅤㅤ✿ ׄ books: french and russian classics, anything that speaks of solitude and introspection; anna karenina, the waves, and jane eyre are among her beloveds. ㅤㅤㅤㅤ✿ ׄ colours: silver, midnight blue, soft lavender—cool, subdued tones that match her inner world. ㅤㅤㅤㅤ✿ ׄ animal: the swan; beautiful and silent, an elegant creature that masks an underlying strength. ㅤㅤㅤㅤ✿ ׄ season: winter, with its quiet beauty, its shadows and secrets veiled in snow. ㅤㅤㅤㅤ✿ ׄ element: water—flowing, mysterious, both calm and turbulent.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ✿ ̸ QUOTES THAT ECHO HER SOUL

ㅤㅤ✸ 𝑖 ֪ “ i am rooted, but i flow. „ — virginia woolf. ㅤㅤ✸ 𝑖 ֪ “ but i have been too deeply hurt, sam. i tried to save the shire, and it has been saved, but not for me. „ — j.r.r.tolkien. ㅤㅤ✸ 𝑖 ֪ “ she was a phantom of delight when first she gleamed upon my sight; a lovely apparition, sent to be a moment’s ornament. „ — william wordsworth.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ✿ ̸ AESTHETICS

ㅤㅤㅤㅤsilver-blonde waves falling past her shoulders, soft as moonlight; lipstick stains on crystal glasses; ink-smudged fingers on piano keys; a figure on a balcony at dusk, gazing over the city with quiet longing; the scent of old parchment and faded perfume; a porcelain doll, all grace and silence, with eyes that hide too much; the delicate rustle of silk robes at midnight; chandeliers and velvet, all elegance and alienation.