Name:
Thyme Sinclair
âAye. Thyme. As in the herb. Pronounced like time. Donât like it? Donât wanna hear it.â
Nickname(s):
Splendid
âDonât. Just donât.â
Race:
Human
âWrong. Iâm a seven foot pixi.â
Age:
19
âLegal, bitchez~"
Gender:
Male
âDoes this really need clarification?â
Ethnicity:
Scottish
âAye, I do have a âwee bitâ of an accent.â *insert eye roll and extreme sarcasm here* âCanât understand me? Deal.â
Orrientation:
Homosexual
âMmmm⊠Cock.â
Romantic Interest:
None
âRomance? Love? Kind, genuine human emotions? Pshhh. No such thing.â
Residence:
Picture a big city. Good, now imagine walking downtown and taking a sharp turn into a dark alley. Follow down the narrow enclosure, careful to avoid the discarded trash and bums of course, then exit and look around. The attractive, glistening front the government put up at the entrance of the city has worn away and left nothing but corroding structures that now serve as housing for many a species; the inhabitants range from various molds and vines to rodents and underpaid homosapiens.
Now, envision walking along the cracked pavement (careful not to trip on any protruding tree roots or weeds sprouting from the many cracks)and coming to a halt within the shadow of a tall, decaying building with a lean to rival that of the Tower of Pisa. Only the many windows and small sections of dusty-red brick are visible through the flowering bougainvillea vines crawling up the four storied building towards the roof. The main entrance, a door of course, is teal and copper speckled do to the rusting of its original copper components. After twisting the antique, rust-dusted doorknob and pushing through, the warmest greeting to be received would be that of a relatively quiet hallway clad in peeling wall paper of a faded green hue. Feeling lonely or upset with the lack of proper greetings? Donât worry, just search for a small crevasse and more than likely there will be some relative to the rodent family awaiting to say hello. That doesnât sound appealing? Well then, just follow the hall, passing the elevator (itâs been out of order for years), and make thy way up the steep, concrete steps to the third floor. After the third flight, take a right turn, stopping after approximately six steps, and then turn to the right once more. The greeting this time will be left not in the theoretical hands of a welcome may, but instead in those of a rather large spot of mold (or maybe its moss⊠No oneâs really taken the time to closely examine itâŠ) thatâs accumulated in a rather large crack in the wall near apartment C2âs door and being maintained by a steady drip falling from a mystery dark spot from the ceiling.
Inside, apartment C2 is, though quite bare and plain, surprisingly well kept. Itâs a rarity to find more than a few pieces of trash littering the flat surfaces of the small living quarters and the clothes are separated neatly into to crumpled heaps on the single bedroomâs floor; clean and dirty. Other than the small bedroom, there are only a few other rooms in Splendidâs humble abode: a dinky, make-shift kitchen, a small living room consisting of a love seat and a folding chair and a table, and the last room is an equally small bathroom.
âIn other words, I live in a shitty ass apartment thatâs probably in violation of more than a dozen health codes.â
Appearence:
Thyme definitely has a⊠unique look to him. Some may find him attractive while others may not; his own opinion on aesthetics is something relatively close to, âwho gives a shitâ.
His physique is that of a skeleton; tall, lanky, and stick-thin. He stands at about six foot one and his thin frame is adorned by lanky limbs and smooth, crĂšme coloured skin. His muscle structure is thin and wiry and tells wild tales of his intense, daily workout of walking up and down the stairs of the apartment building he inhabits. His height does not help his physique as it seemingly stretches him out, and neither does the size of his hands and feet. Both his hands and feet are larger than average, and in comparison, make him seem that much thinner. His five digits on each of his hands and feet are, like the rest of him, long and bony.
âYee know what they say about big hands and feet.â
Judging by his rather poor physique, one might conclude that Splendid is undernourished. When one thinks of undernourished, he thinks sickly complexion does he not? Well, Thyme does not have the complexion of the sick and is therefore not undernourished (or so he would argue). His skin carries the colour and hue of fresh crĂšme and to the touch feels smooth to the point of almost silken (daily moisturizing and limited physical labour will do that). His skin tone is even through and through save fore but one spot on his heart shaped face. Racing through Splendidâs left orb is a thick, vertical scar that starts mid forehead and ends below his cheekbone.
This slight imperfection is the result of an accident that occurred many years back when the Sinclair family still lived in Scotland. It was Thymeâs eighth birthday and his father was put in charge of finding an entertainer for the afternoon party. Being the penny pincher he was, Mr. Sinclair found one of the cheapest birthday preforming clowns he could and signed him up to entertain at Thymeâs party. Thyme was ecstatic when he heard a clown was going to be entertaining for his birthday and thanked his father graciously.
On the day of the party, the hired clown showed up piss drunk. This fact went unnoticed by the guests for they all thought he was doing his job; acting like a clown. Though drunk, the clown was able to run through the classic party behaviors, e.g, balloon animals and lame ass jokes. After his mini show, the clown pulled the birthday boy aside and told him that because it was his special day he got a private show. Being the naĂŻve and excitable boy he was, Thyme eagerly agreed and followed after the clown.
The clown stopped inside the Sinclairâs kitchen/dining room and quickly turned around to the bubbling redhead. The much larger male grabbed the petite child by his shoulders and slammed him against the wall. Thyme gasped in a mixture of shock and pain as the breath rushed out of him and would have struggled or screamed as he felt a large hand grip the hem of his pants had he not been gasping for oxygen. His body stiffened as he felt cold hands diving into his shorts and fought to regain his breath as he weakly fought against his captor. He felt areas he knew should be off limits being touched and as soon as he began to regain his breath, started yelling for him to stop and futilely trying to tear himself away from the monstrous man. The sound of a door flying open halted the large man in his unholy pursuits and Thyme seized his chance; he lurched forward and squirmed out of the grasp of the clown and darted for where his younger sister stood confused in the doorway. In his haste Thyme didnât notice how his shorts were now pooling around his ankles and fell forward to the tile. He clambered back up as fast as he could but unfortunately misjudged the distance between himself and the dining room table. His head smacked painfully onto the corner of the table on his way up and laced a fiery string of pain through his skull. He fell back to the floor and brought a hand up to cover the burning sensation on his face, only to pull it away and find it dripping in red. The hasty retreat had resulted in a nasty gash running vertically from left cheek to the top of his forehead.
Thyme is not one to fret upon aesthetics and appearances, but does not take his fortunate looks for granted. Stationed evenly on either side of a centered, downward slopping nose are two emerald-green eyes. Circling the pupil is a mist of brown and golden specs that reach out to greet the intense blend of swirling greens in scattered flecks. The outermost ring of the iris is a significantly darker shade of green than the rest of the iris and can be best describe as a deep evergreen. Framing these eyes are thick veils of deep red lashes that leave hint to the blunetâs natural hair colour. Below his slightly pointed nose is a pair of slight lips that accompany a rather large mouth. The lips are a few shades darker than the rest of his skin and are usually parted in an expression of indifference or light distaste.
Atop his head resides a messed thatch of unruly, sky-blue locks that fall in an uneven frame around his face. Itâs hopefully obvious that blue is not Thymeâs natural colour. Before the blunet was introduced to the wonderful product known as hairdye, he stayed true to his Scottish heritage and proudly donned a disarray of fiery red locks. The aspiring poet might wish to shed a ray of poetic light onto the reasoning behind Thymeâs unique choice in hair colour by suggesting that because his head has been in the clouds for so long, a piece of the sky was torn away and captured by his locks when he finally came crashing back down. Splendid would quite happily tear these whimsical thoughts asunder by informing the poet that his sky blue colouring was a result of nothing but a careless whim and, of course, before walking off would ever so kindly notify them that their poetry sucks ass.
Personality:
Lazy, blunt, a lover of sarcasm and lounging, and basically an unmotivated antisocial who get's a kick out of annoying other's.
(will elaborate at a later date.)
Family:
Mother (Shona Sinclair)- She is the source behind both Thymeâs natural fiery mop and unbearable nickname. Shona is a tall, thin woman with an affinity for nicknames and all things unique. Sheâs a stay at home mom and entertains herself with gardening and experimenting with obscure and foreign recipes.
Father (Duncan Sinclair)- Mr. Sinclair is a tall, burly man with thick black curls covering his head and most of his chin. He spends most his time working on large construction projects or in an array of pubs, and when heâs home he enjoys relaxing and spending time with his wife. Mr. Sinclair locks his emotions away and prefers to appear as a boulder; strong and immovable
Sister (Nessa Sinclair)- She dyes and straightens her long, curly red locks to the point not a single curl or wave is left and the red is a pitching midnight. Nessa is a year Thymeâs junior but likes to believe her mentality is over a decade his senior. She and her brother differ greatly: sheâs starting college and aspiring to get a medical degree, whereas Thymeâs only motivation to go out of his room is his reluctance to be evicted if he canât cough up rent; Nessa uses what little time to herself she has studying or making sure her appearance is proper and appealing whilst Splendid sits on his couch and sees how many pencils and toothpicks he can get to stick in his ceiling (thus far the record is six pencils and 12 toothpicks); and the greatest difference between the two is Nessaâs desire to fit in and be as normal as humanly possible and Thymeâs enjoyment of the strange and unsettling.
Tattoos:
Nope! Heâs free of ink and metal~ Well, maybe not metal⊠He has a fetish for piercings and couldnât resist adding some to his own body. His ears have a few studs strung randomly through and they are always decorated by Thymeâs beloved cuff earrings. Oh, he has his belly button pierced too because, in his own words, âitâs sexyâ. Heâs too lazy to actually bring himself to do it, but heâs been thinking about getting a Celtic circle or triangle done on either his left foot or right shoulder blade.
âIâm a natural beauty.â
Other:
-He has a rather unnerving obsessionâŠClowns. Thyme has always been drawn to the painted expressions masking the true feelings the entertainers might be harboring and the way the general public is near always fooled. One might be thinking that that is not that unnerving of an obsession, and it wouldnât be if Thyme was into the laughing and joyous kinds. But, Thyme is not. His preference is drawn towards those of unsettling nature. He finds entertainment in the ones that, if one was to closely examine, wear their lips in a downturned scowl or grin of sadistic mirth beneath their deceiving masks of bright paints and positive emotion.
Inside his apartment random signs of his obsession can be found scattered around and if the poor state of the building or his persona doesnât scare company away, one can almost always count on his odd collection to do it.
- Splendid dislikes food (the only exception being caffeine filled products) and the taxing effort it takes to actually search out a meal, prepare it properly, and then actually chewing and swallowing.
-Tendency to respond with âright, right, rightâŠâand/or extreme and unnecessary amounts of sarcasm
-His second toe is longer than his big one. He sees this odd structure of his toes to be an advantage as it enables him to pick up an array of objects without having to waste the energy to bend down and use his hands. It also comes in handy when trying to open the door with oneâs arms full.
-Seemingly the only enjoyment he finds in life is through annoying others to the point of insanity
Reason for being in Therapy:
Nessa worries far too much to be healthy and feels her older brother needs to grow up. Splendidâs clown obsession and bad eating habits (i.e his lack thereof) set up red flags in the forefront of Nessaâs concerns and wishes to help âcure him of his abnormalitiesâ. (Plus clowns terrify her).
Thyme Sinclair
âAye. Thyme. As in the herb. Pronounced like time. Donât like it? Donât wanna hear it.â
Nickname(s):
Splendid
âDonât. Just donât.â
Race:
Human
âWrong. Iâm a seven foot pixi.â
Age:
19
âLegal, bitchez~"
Gender:
Male
âDoes this really need clarification?â
Ethnicity:
Scottish
âAye, I do have a âwee bitâ of an accent.â *insert eye roll and extreme sarcasm here* âCanât understand me? Deal.â
Orrientation:
Homosexual
âMmmm⊠Cock.â
Romantic Interest:
None
âRomance? Love? Kind, genuine human emotions? Pshhh. No such thing.â
Residence:
Picture a big city. Good, now imagine walking downtown and taking a sharp turn into a dark alley. Follow down the narrow enclosure, careful to avoid the discarded trash and bums of course, then exit and look around. The attractive, glistening front the government put up at the entrance of the city has worn away and left nothing but corroding structures that now serve as housing for many a species; the inhabitants range from various molds and vines to rodents and underpaid homosapiens.
Now, envision walking along the cracked pavement (careful not to trip on any protruding tree roots or weeds sprouting from the many cracks)and coming to a halt within the shadow of a tall, decaying building with a lean to rival that of the Tower of Pisa. Only the many windows and small sections of dusty-red brick are visible through the flowering bougainvillea vines crawling up the four storied building towards the roof. The main entrance, a door of course, is teal and copper speckled do to the rusting of its original copper components. After twisting the antique, rust-dusted doorknob and pushing through, the warmest greeting to be received would be that of a relatively quiet hallway clad in peeling wall paper of a faded green hue. Feeling lonely or upset with the lack of proper greetings? Donât worry, just search for a small crevasse and more than likely there will be some relative to the rodent family awaiting to say hello. That doesnât sound appealing? Well then, just follow the hall, passing the elevator (itâs been out of order for years), and make thy way up the steep, concrete steps to the third floor. After the third flight, take a right turn, stopping after approximately six steps, and then turn to the right once more. The greeting this time will be left not in the theoretical hands of a welcome may, but instead in those of a rather large spot of mold (or maybe its moss⊠No oneâs really taken the time to closely examine itâŠ) thatâs accumulated in a rather large crack in the wall near apartment C2âs door and being maintained by a steady drip falling from a mystery dark spot from the ceiling.
Inside, apartment C2 is, though quite bare and plain, surprisingly well kept. Itâs a rarity to find more than a few pieces of trash littering the flat surfaces of the small living quarters and the clothes are separated neatly into to crumpled heaps on the single bedroomâs floor; clean and dirty. Other than the small bedroom, there are only a few other rooms in Splendidâs humble abode: a dinky, make-shift kitchen, a small living room consisting of a love seat and a folding chair and a table, and the last room is an equally small bathroom.
âIn other words, I live in a shitty ass apartment thatâs probably in violation of more than a dozen health codes.â
Appearence:
Thyme definitely has a⊠unique look to him. Some may find him attractive while others may not; his own opinion on aesthetics is something relatively close to, âwho gives a shitâ.
His physique is that of a skeleton; tall, lanky, and stick-thin. He stands at about six foot one and his thin frame is adorned by lanky limbs and smooth, crĂšme coloured skin. His muscle structure is thin and wiry and tells wild tales of his intense, daily workout of walking up and down the stairs of the apartment building he inhabits. His height does not help his physique as it seemingly stretches him out, and neither does the size of his hands and feet. Both his hands and feet are larger than average, and in comparison, make him seem that much thinner. His five digits on each of his hands and feet are, like the rest of him, long and bony.
âYee know what they say about big hands and feet.â
Judging by his rather poor physique, one might conclude that Splendid is undernourished. When one thinks of undernourished, he thinks sickly complexion does he not? Well, Thyme does not have the complexion of the sick and is therefore not undernourished (or so he would argue). His skin carries the colour and hue of fresh crĂšme and to the touch feels smooth to the point of almost silken (daily moisturizing and limited physical labour will do that). His skin tone is even through and through save fore but one spot on his heart shaped face. Racing through Splendidâs left orb is a thick, vertical scar that starts mid forehead and ends below his cheekbone.
This slight imperfection is the result of an accident that occurred many years back when the Sinclair family still lived in Scotland. It was Thymeâs eighth birthday and his father was put in charge of finding an entertainer for the afternoon party. Being the penny pincher he was, Mr. Sinclair found one of the cheapest birthday preforming clowns he could and signed him up to entertain at Thymeâs party. Thyme was ecstatic when he heard a clown was going to be entertaining for his birthday and thanked his father graciously.
On the day of the party, the hired clown showed up piss drunk. This fact went unnoticed by the guests for they all thought he was doing his job; acting like a clown. Though drunk, the clown was able to run through the classic party behaviors, e.g, balloon animals and lame ass jokes. After his mini show, the clown pulled the birthday boy aside and told him that because it was his special day he got a private show. Being the naĂŻve and excitable boy he was, Thyme eagerly agreed and followed after the clown.
The clown stopped inside the Sinclairâs kitchen/dining room and quickly turned around to the bubbling redhead. The much larger male grabbed the petite child by his shoulders and slammed him against the wall. Thyme gasped in a mixture of shock and pain as the breath rushed out of him and would have struggled or screamed as he felt a large hand grip the hem of his pants had he not been gasping for oxygen. His body stiffened as he felt cold hands diving into his shorts and fought to regain his breath as he weakly fought against his captor. He felt areas he knew should be off limits being touched and as soon as he began to regain his breath, started yelling for him to stop and futilely trying to tear himself away from the monstrous man. The sound of a door flying open halted the large man in his unholy pursuits and Thyme seized his chance; he lurched forward and squirmed out of the grasp of the clown and darted for where his younger sister stood confused in the doorway. In his haste Thyme didnât notice how his shorts were now pooling around his ankles and fell forward to the tile. He clambered back up as fast as he could but unfortunately misjudged the distance between himself and the dining room table. His head smacked painfully onto the corner of the table on his way up and laced a fiery string of pain through his skull. He fell back to the floor and brought a hand up to cover the burning sensation on his face, only to pull it away and find it dripping in red. The hasty retreat had resulted in a nasty gash running vertically from left cheek to the top of his forehead.
Thyme is not one to fret upon aesthetics and appearances, but does not take his fortunate looks for granted. Stationed evenly on either side of a centered, downward slopping nose are two emerald-green eyes. Circling the pupil is a mist of brown and golden specs that reach out to greet the intense blend of swirling greens in scattered flecks. The outermost ring of the iris is a significantly darker shade of green than the rest of the iris and can be best describe as a deep evergreen. Framing these eyes are thick veils of deep red lashes that leave hint to the blunetâs natural hair colour. Below his slightly pointed nose is a pair of slight lips that accompany a rather large mouth. The lips are a few shades darker than the rest of his skin and are usually parted in an expression of indifference or light distaste.
Atop his head resides a messed thatch of unruly, sky-blue locks that fall in an uneven frame around his face. Itâs hopefully obvious that blue is not Thymeâs natural colour. Before the blunet was introduced to the wonderful product known as hairdye, he stayed true to his Scottish heritage and proudly donned a disarray of fiery red locks. The aspiring poet might wish to shed a ray of poetic light onto the reasoning behind Thymeâs unique choice in hair colour by suggesting that because his head has been in the clouds for so long, a piece of the sky was torn away and captured by his locks when he finally came crashing back down. Splendid would quite happily tear these whimsical thoughts asunder by informing the poet that his sky blue colouring was a result of nothing but a careless whim and, of course, before walking off would ever so kindly notify them that their poetry sucks ass.
Personality:
Lazy, blunt, a lover of sarcasm and lounging, and basically an unmotivated antisocial who get's a kick out of annoying other's.
(will elaborate at a later date.)
Family:
Mother (Shona Sinclair)- She is the source behind both Thymeâs natural fiery mop and unbearable nickname. Shona is a tall, thin woman with an affinity for nicknames and all things unique. Sheâs a stay at home mom and entertains herself with gardening and experimenting with obscure and foreign recipes.
Father (Duncan Sinclair)- Mr. Sinclair is a tall, burly man with thick black curls covering his head and most of his chin. He spends most his time working on large construction projects or in an array of pubs, and when heâs home he enjoys relaxing and spending time with his wife. Mr. Sinclair locks his emotions away and prefers to appear as a boulder; strong and immovable
Sister (Nessa Sinclair)- She dyes and straightens her long, curly red locks to the point not a single curl or wave is left and the red is a pitching midnight. Nessa is a year Thymeâs junior but likes to believe her mentality is over a decade his senior. She and her brother differ greatly: sheâs starting college and aspiring to get a medical degree, whereas Thymeâs only motivation to go out of his room is his reluctance to be evicted if he canât cough up rent; Nessa uses what little time to herself she has studying or making sure her appearance is proper and appealing whilst Splendid sits on his couch and sees how many pencils and toothpicks he can get to stick in his ceiling (thus far the record is six pencils and 12 toothpicks); and the greatest difference between the two is Nessaâs desire to fit in and be as normal as humanly possible and Thymeâs enjoyment of the strange and unsettling.
Tattoos:
Nope! Heâs free of ink and metal~ Well, maybe not metal⊠He has a fetish for piercings and couldnât resist adding some to his own body. His ears have a few studs strung randomly through and they are always decorated by Thymeâs beloved cuff earrings. Oh, he has his belly button pierced too because, in his own words, âitâs sexyâ. Heâs too lazy to actually bring himself to do it, but heâs been thinking about getting a Celtic circle or triangle done on either his left foot or right shoulder blade.
âIâm a natural beauty.â
Other:
-He has a rather unnerving obsessionâŠClowns. Thyme has always been drawn to the painted expressions masking the true feelings the entertainers might be harboring and the way the general public is near always fooled. One might be thinking that that is not that unnerving of an obsession, and it wouldnât be if Thyme was into the laughing and joyous kinds. But, Thyme is not. His preference is drawn towards those of unsettling nature. He finds entertainment in the ones that, if one was to closely examine, wear their lips in a downturned scowl or grin of sadistic mirth beneath their deceiving masks of bright paints and positive emotion.
Inside his apartment random signs of his obsession can be found scattered around and if the poor state of the building or his persona doesnât scare company away, one can almost always count on his odd collection to do it.
- Splendid dislikes food (the only exception being caffeine filled products) and the taxing effort it takes to actually search out a meal, prepare it properly, and then actually chewing and swallowing.
-Tendency to respond with âright, right, rightâŠâand/or extreme and unnecessary amounts of sarcasm
-His second toe is longer than his big one. He sees this odd structure of his toes to be an advantage as it enables him to pick up an array of objects without having to waste the energy to bend down and use his hands. It also comes in handy when trying to open the door with oneâs arms full.
-Seemingly the only enjoyment he finds in life is through annoying others to the point of insanity
Reason for being in Therapy:
Nessa worries far too much to be healthy and feels her older brother needs to grow up. Splendidâs clown obsession and bad eating habits (i.e his lack thereof) set up red flags in the forefront of Nessaâs concerns and wishes to help âcure him of his abnormalitiesâ. (Plus clowns terrify her).