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#god. anyway. i’m so mad i will never forgive whoever decided on this system
steviescrystals · 6 months
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i graduated high school 3 years ago and i’m still not over the fact that NO ONE TOLD ME the district would delete all of our school accounts like a month later and now every paper, presentation, project, etc. i made on that account from 5th-12th grade is just gone forever 🫠
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twelvesignsrp · 7 years
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congratulations tabi, cancer is now samuel wade with the faceclaim neels visser
APPLICATION
   Character Sign: Cancer
   Character name: Samuel Wade
   Birthday: 7/7/1997
   Sexuality: bisexual                                                                                        
   Gender: male
   Moon Sign: Pisces Moon – he’s someone who needs fantasy, compassion, escape, and creative outlets more than anything else in the world. he can go a little stir-crazy at times, which is why it’s important for him to have security as well, but he can be extremely hard to pin down and read when he gets into one of his darker moods. sometimes he feels he is best left on his own, even though he wishes he could connect better, but he knows he needs to figure out how to navigate his own soul before he can really reach out to others around him. he is and will always be drawn to artistic, sensual and spiritual pursuits.
   Faceclaim: Neels Visser
   Power: future illustration – it’s not so much any sort of clear image that splashes itself across his mind and forces him to recreate it on any surface available, it’s more like some sort of gut feeling, almost unnoticeable sometimes until he’s practically finished with it. the urge to draw or paint something is as familiar and ingrained in him as the need to breath or his body’s need for blood from his heart—it’s something stuck just beneath the layers of his skin, and he doesn’t even think about it until he looks down and realizes he’s drawn something that ends up coming true a little while later. he does it without thinking most of the time, but then there are a few dark midnights, sleepless nights when the kaleidoscope mess tries to seep out through his fingertips, the drive to create something much stronger than his need to sleep. the talent for art has always been there inside of him, the magic just decided to adhere itself to that.
   What do they study? Art Appreciation
   Biography:
rule 1: schizophrenia is hereditary.
you wouldn’t think that to look at Marie Mason though, as she smiles and walks slowly down the aisle to marry the man who has stolen her heart and all her inhibitions and reservations about love. they’ve thrown themselves into this wedding, adored each other endlessly, despite the family secret she keeps from him, hoping on every star in the sky and any god in heaven that somehow, maybe the curse will pass her by unaffected. maybe their love is stronger than her genetics, maybe his kiss will break the evil spell, the ticking time-bomb on her mind. and after all, doesn’t everyone deserve a happy, fairytale ending? the Beatles sang “all you need is love” and they both agree wholeheartedly, because this feels absolute between the two of them. there is nothing that can get in the way of their union.
rule 2: love is not stronger than madness.
no one bears the brunt of her mental decay as much as her first-born son Samuel, especially in the first seven years of his life. he learns to run quickly, hide perfectly, play games that make no sense and have no rules. he has to think on his feet, tell stories without endings, anything he can do to please her, to help her, to make her love him—or at least remind her that she once did love him. it comes and goes sometimes, and he suffers in school for it, despite how much money his father pours into his education.
what father doesn’t seem to understand is that, yes, she does have many good, long stretches of sanity, weeks when she is fine, she is stable, she is operational, and Samuel enjoys these times because that’s when their family love dynamic actually feels real. but those times never really last long enough, they are just the minute gasps for breaths the universe takes before exploding again. his mother and his little brother, younger by three years, and him can all go to the park and have picnics, and he doesn’t have to think about how Jacob is already a better reader than he is. Jacob is better at a lot of things, but Samuel’s sheer amount of personality ensures his place as older brother. he can also draw better than anyone else in his class, but no one is as much a fan of his work as Jacob is, and Samuel is sure that nothing in the world can break the two of them apart.
that’s why when the doctors finally come and take their mother away while she is screaming and thrashing around, like a demon straight out of hell, Samuel holds onto Jacob’s hand tight enough that neither of them have to notice that their father can’t even look at them. Samuel is terrified that one day he’ll grow up to be as cold and distant as that man, but he’s even more scared about his mother’s genetic lotto win taking root in him.
rule 3: nothing in this world is in your control.
caution: contents are hot. he lets himself ride the waves of adolescence, boiling over with too much freezer-burn chemicals. like a sunflower, he is all brightness on the outer rim, the edges of him oozing glamour and laughter and just enough coyness to keep others interested, but in the center is dark, dark inflorescence, drying and dying out in the sun. he can feel himself changing as puberty takes over, shifting him into the kind of boy who stares at other people too long and lets himself fall into chaos too quickly. he falls in love too hard and lets it drive him to the edge of his mental cliff time and time again, because maybe if he gets used to it out here, it won’t be so bad when he finally tumbles down off it. he lives his life in fear of madness, which gives him a bit of wild freedom, but mostly just makes him want to cave in on himself.
his turmoil breathes life into the only part of him left that’s still beating; drawing and painting. he spends hours on it, creates everything from abstract memories of dreams to landscapes and fruits. it’s an incredibly forgiving art, but nothing about that sentiment lets him sleep a full night through, unburdened by nightmares.
his father comes to him one day after he’s turned eighteen and tells him he expects good grading scores from his high school so that he can enroll in a well-accredited university next fall—a university that has already been picked out for him. Samuel hadn’t intended to go to college, actually, because he wanted to start selling his art as soon as possible, but he doesn’t have the means or support system around him to venture off on his own, the way he wishes he did. he’s too easily persuaded to attend, but he manages to hold his own when it comes to which classes to choose. his father wants him to become a doctor, and follow in his footsteps of becoming a surgeon. for that entire summer, he starts bringing his oldest son to his hospital with him, making him watch the surgeries sometimes, hoping that the drive to cut people open and fix them will somehow seep into Samuel via osmosis. it’s total hell to the eighteen-year-old, and it doesn’t convince him to change his college schedule at all.
rule 4: with great power comes great responsibility.
not very far into his experience at durham, things begin to change. at first, he thinks “this is it, i’m finally losing it,” when he sees the exact same car-wreck scene on the news as what he had drawn earlier that morning. he thinks maybe it’s a coincidence, maybe a fluke, maybe some kind of déjà vu. he sets the picture on fire and smokes a cigarette as he watches it burn, his heart pounding in his chest, the fear like freezing fingers wrapping around his lungs, suffocating him. it’s not long though before it happens again, and again, and again—the things he draws becoming real somehow, and he begins to worry whether he’s drawing the future or creating it through his drawings.
it takes about a month or two, after he really starts taking action based on the paintings and drawings, that he realizes he is shaping only one version of the future, and that by simply knowing about it and doing something with that knowledge, it can be changed; which is a huge relief. so he starts acting on his abilities, working to fix whatever seems wrong, warn whoever he needs to, avoid the pitfalls he can see coming. he very rarely anymore draws the things he wants to, but it’s okay because this is more important anyway, and his skills at detail and coloring are getting better, sharper, clearer.
but with each new picture he puts his whole soul into, he feels it leave him just a little bit more. it’s a well-known fact that talent and survival cannot exist harmoniously inside one body; eventually something has to give. nothing is stronger than madness, he controls nothing in this world.
and schizophrenia is hereditary.
   Five interesting facts about your character:
I. he has grown up with a mild form of dyslexia, making him very uncomfortable reading things. he struggled through it all throughout high school, oftentimes bullshitting his way through tests and literature classes. whenever he was called upon to read something from the books, he would always play it off as something silly, like making up the words and story as he went, often getting in minor bits of trouble for it. whenever it was really important that he learn the material, he just looked up youtube videos for it. he still needs to do that sometimes. II. he calls his little brother Jacob every week, just to check up on him. he hates being so far away from his brother, really the only member of his family that he ever connected with. his brother looks up to him a lot, even though Sam has no idea why anyone would. III. he lives off of a steady diet of ramen and code-red mountain dew. he knows he should eat better, but he’s too young to care about health food and he’s been blessed with a fantastic metabolism. plus, he doesn’t know how to cook and he can’t be bothered to learn. IV. he does work out though, whenever he can, and even though his choice of exorcise is boxing mostly, he wishes he could get more into martial arts, like taekwondo or jujitsu. V. secretly loves super nerdy stuff, like anime and comic books, but he tries his best to keep all that under wraps, stuffed into the bottom of one of his pants drawers, because he is scared of what people will think of him if they knew. he wants to be chill, not looked at like he’s crazy.
   Character Quote:
“lie with me under
the sweeping sky that
forgets us
there is no other kind of death
destroy me if you must.”
–inkskinned.tumblr.com
   If your character had a patronus what would it be? and why? his patronus is a dapple-grey stallion. it means his passion for the things he loves is hard to beat, he becomes very involved in his friends, family, hobbies and studies. he can be very sensitive and emotional, getting hurt easily and often feeling melancholy for very little reason. however, this emotional enlightenment allows him to understand others and empathize extremely well, while also being very creative and intelligent.
WRITING SAMPLE
Samuel stared at the lines on the wooden door in front of him, his eyes wide but unmoving– stagnant just like the rest of his entire body. he was supposed to be moving, supposed to be a man of action by now, like he had told himself countless times to be. he’d spent the better part of the morning looking into a mirror, practicing the lines he was about to say, going over what sounds best, the exact type of words to formulate, anything that didn’t sound creepy or desperate. he wanted to be one of those guys who were able to just go after whatever they want, no hesitation, no overthinking.
but he wasn’t. he wasn’t a man of action, he wasn’t a man of anything– he was just standing here in front of his classmate’s door like an idiot, completely immobile because his nervousness had rooted him to her welcome mat. he was supposed to knock on the door ten minutes ago. he should have already gotten this done and over with by now but instead he couldn’t stop staring at the lines in the door and thinking about how heartbroken he was going to be as soon as she rejected him.
she had no idea how hard he’d been working up the courage to do this. how long he’d spent practicing his tone of voice or his smile. he wanted everything to be perfect and if he messed this up…. he might never have forgiven himself. he had already messed up so many other relationships and lost so many opportunities with her already this semester. he wanted to move forward. he wanted to show her how much he liked her.
he slowly inhaled a breath, lifting his fist up to knock on the door, but he couldn’t make contact. maybe he could do this next week. there would still be a next week, right? there was always next week– next month– next year. except what if she moved away or dropped out of school? what if she got a boyfriend? and then he’d have to see them together in the hallways, think about how she liked to be kissed, think about whether she was being treated well enough. he was not keen on this idea.
but knocking on this door was about as easy as fitting his whole arm into his mouth. how did other people seem to do this so damn easily? he always saw it in movies and things, guys being assertive and girls being spunky but accepting. things always worked out in movies though, whereas real life was often messier, especially in those first few steps of a relationship.
relationship? maybe he shouldn’t have been thinking about that word just yet—it was still pretty early. he hadn’t even managed to ask her out yet. hadn’t even knocked on the goddamn door. he huffed again, the nervous fluttering and pounding in his chest only getting worse.
he lifted his fist up again, an inch or two away, when the door suddenly opened and there she was, a bag of trash in her hand, and there he was, his arm raised like an idiot. “i…! oh..! hi..” his palms immediately started sweating as panic set in and his fight-or-flight instinct started telling him to turn and run. his feet however, were still painfully glued to this spot. “i, uh… i was just about to knock… on your door….” he slowly lowered his hand, feeling like a deer in the headlights. “obviously.”
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