#l.aesthetic

[containatrocity]

THE CANARY: KERRY "LEX" COLEMAN

So long live the car crash hearts, cry on the couch all the poets come to life- Fix me in forty-five.

"Doctor Kerry Aleksandre Coleman. Though most people call me Lex or Doc. I'm 35 years old, and while I was born in Montpellier, France, I studied psychology and law in New York City where I would quickly make a name for myself as a capable criminal psychologist in several high-profile cases. At least, I had until three years ago when the long-distance trip I was making to testify in a case took a wrong turn and stranded me in Huntsville. The night of my arrival took several things from me, including my pregnant wife and any hope I had of leaving this place ever again. While I do not fall victim to many vices, I've been described as a harsh, apathetic man who largely cares only for results. Suppose that's good news though, given I've been one of the town's only practicing psychiatric health professionals since 2020."

Name: Dr. Kerry Aleksandre Coleman

Aliases: Lex, Canary, Shrinky Dink, Doc, Ker-bear

Age: 35 (December 31st)

Sexuality/Gender: Bisexual Demiromantic Cis (?) Man he/they

Personality: Lex is a hard man to love. Apathetic, harsh, and short in temper, his tendency to tell people what they need to know but don't want to hear has made him little more than a necessary evil to the people of Huntsville. He is good at his work, sessions with him regularly setting heads back into place on shoulders in a place where it's easy to spiral. A logical, intelligent sort, it's easy to forget he's human, sometimes, speaking in large words and difficult terms when he's in 'work mode' and unwilling, truly, to let that part of him slip, he is sardonic even beneath it, blessed with a cutting wit and a head like a steel trap, mentally sound- but wounded, nonetheless, a grief looms below the surface- he suffocates it under other people's problems and the promise that someday he'll die too.

Occupation: Criminal Psychologist, currently serving as a psychotherapist in Huntsville for the... hard cases.

Affiliations: Mostly just police departments outside of Huntsville, and various reporters who use him as a source.

Scent Profile: Something expensive and musky, used sparingly as he's been stuck here for some time. The cloying smell of oil used to ensure the joints in his hand function correctly, cigar smoke, biting and sharp, flowing with sandalwood and real, rich leather. Sweet mint on teeth and tongue, fresh and bright to mask nicotine and coffee.

Aesthetic: A perfectly pressed suit and a cup of to-go coffee from the corner shop- a stop in your favorite bodega, for something bad for you from the heated cabinets. An analog watch on the wrist of a prosthetic arm, set perfectly to the second- time is money and he won't waste a dime. Man's best friend with a leather collar hand-stamped with his name, fluffy white hairs clinging to clothes betraying a harsh demeanor with something soft. Metal on metal, glass floating in the air- the screech of tires, the smell of gasoline and the whole of your world ending, right in front of you- rising to your feet and dusting off- you were not raised to quit.

The only thing I haven't done yet is die- And it's me and my plus one at the afterlife.

CHAPTER ONE: LIFE IN HUNTSVILLE POST ARRIVAL

Regarded largely as a necessary evil in town, Lex hasn't made many friends in Huntsville in his 3 years there since the car accident that inadvertently saved his life and ended three others. He is a capable doctor, with a vested interest in improving the lives of the people who come to see him, even those most others would deem hopeless, but it's at a professional distance, not friends to be helped or people to be cured, but case studies to be completed, something to sign, seal, and deliver to the desk of the next person tasked with their existence. He can't do much for some people- certain disorders would mitigate with medicine, others are tied to the town itself, but therapy sessions are oddly gentle, albeit blunt, when helping people is all he has left, it's become his entire existence, jaded and cold as he may be. He spends much of his time in the diner, drinking coffee and going over patient files, or simply people-watching, with Baguette the corgi set obediently beside his feet, the only other survivor of his arrival- the dog he 'didn't want.'

His habit of sleeping with the 'exceptionally hard cases' isn't common knowledge, but it's whispered- those he can't seek to fix in a 45 minute session, with a similar arms-length approach to others invited as temporary salvo on the ache in his heart and mind, his whole life was ripped away upon arriving, craving physical intimacy and emotional distance with the ability to read people well enough to find those just broken enough to provide. He's made his home and office in a small townhouse in the middle of Huntsville, living above his place of work, "Dr. Kerry A. Coleman Psy. D." on a front window in careful penmanship, his office hours in similar gold strict and unwavering, as are most things about Lex.

[lolabunnyrps-blog]

         (  the bad girls  —  aesthetic. )

"live fast,      die young,          bad girls do it well.”