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Roscoe White

"My heart is a jawbreaker. It can't be broken!"

0 · 341 views · located in Earth

a character in “Suitors Lament”, as played by WingedOctopus

Description

ImageRoscoe White
"Don't wear it out!"

Age
18 in years... 10 in maturity.
"What?! How dare you say I don't act my age! Hmph!"

Appearance
The ghost carries himself in a relaxed, easy manner, eyes sparkling with mischief beneath his mussed-up hair. He never looks tidy or well-kept. He loves wearing loose-fitting clothes (often entirely forgetting to wear a shirt). Formal wear is his worst enemy. In addition to his graphic tees and baggy jeans, he never leaves the house without an impish grin, no pun intended. It's naughty, it's silly... it's strangely adorable on his young-looking face. His smile lights up the room. You can always tell when he's up to something: whenever he looks too innocent, you just know that mischief is afoot.

"Who, me?"

Mortal/Supernatural
Supernatural. Roscoe is a ghost, a buruburu to be exact. Buruburus are born of a person's fear as they die in terrible ways. He has a severe weakness to salt. It burns him and can reduce his form to the traditional wispy, transparent state that most people think of when they imagine ghosts; after having some time to recuperate, they can regain their corporeal state. However, if they ingest too much salt, or have it thrown on them repeatedly with no time to recuperate, it can kill them- burn them away to nothing, just wisps of fog blown away on the wind. In addition, direct sunlight can be uncomfortable... but still bearable.

In correlation to this, Roscoe is a surprisingly healthy eater for his age, preferring tofu and veggies to any regular "teenage boy" food. He loves bacon, however, and eats it even though the salt burns his mouth. He can often be found sitting in the dark, alone in his room, playing video games.

As a buruburu, Roscoe does have a few powers: adorableness? Derpiness? The power of immaturity?
In all seriousness, he can become invisible (but only if he already stands in dim lighting), and he can mildly levitate. However, he doesn't like to use these abilities often.

"Can I have that sodium-free, please?"

Personality
Roscoe is a prankster and a troublemaker. His constant joking can get annoying after awhile. This is a ghost who is never serious... actually, he's kind a pathetic excuse for a buruburu. They're supposed to be evil. Sometimes he gives it a halfhearted stab, but really, he just like goofing off and relaxing, not sentencing souls to damnation. His silliness makes sobering sense when you realize that the boy who created him was only nine years old when he died.

He's lazy. Hates work. He can, however, cook quite well (for being so skinny, he has an enormous appetite). When you get past his many faults, however, he's quite fun to be around. If you're looking for a good time, Roscoe is your man. Boy. Devil. Ghost. Thing.

At the same time, Roscoe can be very caring. He may be too wrapped up in his jokes and laughter to realize that you're upset, but the moment he does, it's like an empathy switch is turned on inside of him. He's naive and sweet, quickly trusting and quickly giving his heart away. He would approach a complete stranger on the street to soothe them if they were crying. The only time he's ever fierce is when he's in defense of his friends.

Or if you try to wake him up before noon.

History
This buruburu was born from a little boy's fear after he was kidnapped and murdered. The boy, whose name was Roscoe White, had rich parents who he always disappointed. They wanted him to work, he'd hide under his bed eating oatmeal and reading comic books. They wanted him to do well in school, he'd fall asleep in class. They wanted him to stop fooling around, he ran away. Forever. Human Roscoe tried to hitch-hike away from home, and it ended up... badly.

The boy's fear as he died created Roscoe as we know him today. Roscoe possesses all of the boy's memories, and often he gets confused and talks about the boy in the first person.

Now that he's ended up in this attempt to save the earth, he's concerned that it will cut into his TV and video game time, but he is fascinated at the thought of living with a mortal girl. He's looking forward to making friends with her. He can make friends with anyone.

Likes
• Tofu, vegetables, salads, "rabbit food"... and bacon, despite it nearly killing him every time he eats it. Hey, guilty pleasure.
• Cooking. See the above.
• Games and activities. He likes board games, card games, swimming, Foosball, table hockey, checkers, hide-and-seek (he cheats with invisibility), video games... he's not at all competitive, but rather just likes the fun of it.
• Being silly and goofing around. Whether it's making a fool of himself at karaoke or hiding under your bed for five hours until you fall asleep so he can jump out at you, Roscoe is not shy at all when it comes to embarrassing himself. It's his inner child, or really, the inner child of the human he was born from.
• Hollister. Nuff said.
• Chick flicks.
• The sun. He never gets to really see it now that he's a ghost; he's forgotten what it's like to be warm. Actually, it really bothers him that he can't go out in it anymore, so this is a love-hate relationship. His parents (or, rather, the human Roscoe's parents) would always tell him to go play in the outdoors rather than watching TV, and now he regrets all the times he scoffed at them.
• 90's cartoons.

Dislikes
• Any competitive sports. No basketball, soccer, or football for him.
• Work, chores. Neat freaks.
• When his friends are upset. It can get him upset enough to cry along with them. Ironically, this often ends up with his friend consoling him, not the other way around.
• The dark. It frightens him, but he goes out in it anyway, since it's more or less the only time he can go outside.
• Meat in general, but mostly that's because of salt.
• People with tans. He can't get one. It's not fair!
• FORMAL WEAR. (For Roscoe, having to put on a shirt is considered formal wear.)
• Busybodies, over-competitive people. Cool your jets, broski!

He's also really self-conscious about standing it bright light, since it shows how transparent he is.

Equipment

Supernatural!

So begins...

Roscoe White's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Logan Hart Character Portrait: Inanna "Ilia" Merinth Character Portrait: Roscoe White Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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Roscoe


The rain pounded down on the car, black clouds heaving like ships on stormy seas. The cab was like a yellow splash of sunshine in the nighttime, a little glow of light in the darkness, a glowing flame sashaying down the long, long road.

And curled up in the backseat, like a little kitten, was Roscoe, golden curls spilling out over the upholstery, his thin chest slowly rising and falling in the facsimile of breathing-- a habit he had kept through all these years without any real need for the process. Roscoe White didn't use oxygen. Roscoe White wasn't technically alive.

Oh, he gave a good show of it-- enough so that the taxi cab driver (albeit suspiciously) accepted his hundred bucks and tossed his luggage in the back. Then again, the boy was bouncy and cheerful enough that his tireless energy, moving this way and that and asking questions upon questions upon questions, usually had one much too preoccupied to question his humanity. One might compare him to a squirrel. Too much energy for his own good.

In the meantime, the rocking back-and-forth movement of the taxi was enough to lull Roscoe to sleep, something that he never thought would happen. He was far too excited for such things! In the past week, his heart practically shattered his bones as it pounded inside his rib cage. For once in his unlife, he'd be able to hang out with some kids his age who were different, like him! Oh, Roscoe was great at making friends, and he was quite optimistic about the new life he was about to begin. Now he didn't have to pretend. Finally!

Eventually the road smoothed out, changing from gravel to pavement, and they emerged from the watery storm into bright sunlight, so quickly that it was almost like someone had flipped a switch, click! The sun had been turned on. The absence of the lulling rain brought Roscoe to stir, and, rubbing his eyes, he stretched and scootched to the window, peering out over the landscape.

The driver glanced back at him. "Oi, kid, put your seat belt back on."

Roscoe did. Even with the elastic, it was still loose on his lanky frame. He had big feet and hands, but his shoulders, neck, and torso were skinny, skinny things. But the mop of sandy curls atop his head spilled over a pale, round face with sparkling eyes and a shy, mischievous, dimpling smile. Altogether, he had a gangly figure. But... squishy.

He pulled his knees up onto the seat and pressed his face up to the window, and then his heart just about leaped into his throat when he saw the mansion approach on the horizon. He jolted so hard that he fell back and became entangled in his own seat belt. "That's it! That's where I'm headed!" he shouted, grinning from ear to ear. And before Roscoe could even say "nervous", the cab screeched to a halt before a looming, sparkling mansion.

Suddenly, all his energy seemed to have deserted him. And so it was almost shyly that Roscoe White opened the door and emerged, blinking, into the sun. He almost forgot his luggage, and, grinning bashfully, he sprang over to the boot of the car to haul his two suitcases out.

He took a deep breath, excitement and nerves fluttering in his stomach.

Well. No turning back now!

Roscoe grasped his luggage by the handles and spun around, dragging it toward the door. When he looked up, his heart skipped a beat to see that there were two people, a boy and a girl, standing in the open doorway. The guy looked like a dozen other kids he'd seen before, though there was something... something different that Roscoe couldn't put his finger on, as if the air around the kid... tingled. It was almost magical.

But the girl, now she was beautiful. Not in the traditional sense, but there was a charming appeal to the prim, mouselike figure that stood on the steps to the palace-like home.

Roscoe came to a halt before the steps, feeling suddenly out of place. "Uhm... hi?" he tried, scratching the back of his head. A shy, goofy half-smile split his face.

And just then, a gust of wind moved the clouds overhead, and sunlight, sparkling sunlight, fell over Roscoe White, whose skin turned shimmery and translucent in the beams.

He looked ghostly.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Logan Hart Character Portrait: Inanna "Ilia" Merinth Character Portrait: Roscoe White Character Portrait: Zyta Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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Zyta tapped her fingers on the desk, her eyes staring down at the blank paper in front of her. She had a pencil in her hand, but she couldn't focus on the gloomy picture she had been trying to draw. She wasn't the best, but she wasn't bad by any means. At her old home, the paintings were filled with sunny, warm colors. The small room near her bedroom- she had to share with the King, no matter what she wanted to do. It was a small art room lit up with many colorful lights. It was supposed to make her 'cheerful'. It did such a good job. The yellow walls were covered in bleak paintings and dark colors. She pushed the paper away with a sigh, and stood up, her long white hair flowing behind her, a large pink-and-black flower holding it away from her eyes. Her dress was only to her knees and was a light pink at the top, but became darker the farther you got from the top. She found it perfectly summarized her life.

She walked into the barren bedroom and over to the small outcropping in front of the window, and pulled herself up onto it quickly, folding her legs up to her chest as she looked out the window. She could see a Victorian mansion near the house- a castle, really, that the Council lived in. It was the only thing big enough to rival the mansion she was currently in. She was immediately interested when she saw a car pull up through the storm outside. "Let's go great the new arrival to the grand home, shall we?" She said to herself. She could always go out, she was known as a nice person in town, and the 'disappearances' that seemed to come in her wake were ignored. She made them look like accident anyway. People ignored her status in the council, everyone knew the story. Her parents had made sure of that, cutting out the fact that they were the ones that had taken money to give her up. No, they were just more 'victims'. She smiled and pulled herself off the windowsill, and to her closet. She would need more durable clothing. She put on a trench-coat and pulled on some leggings, leaving her heels. She drug her umbrella out and started walking, her new outfit fitting her more comfortably then the dress. She always hated dresses.

The door creaked open, and she walked out into the dreary day. She ran forward until she got to the house, just as a man- who had come from a cab, apparently, as she had just seen one driving away, approached the door. She looked around, then approached him quickly. "Hello!" she smiled lightly. "Are you all moving in? I live right up-" she turned and pointed to the grand mansion- larger than everything else- "there. I'll most likely visit frequently, I always visit around town" she looked over to where the newest arrival was. He looked like a ghost. She was stunned. Besides the Council, she didn't know of any other supernaturals. "Uh.. yes! I-I oversee the town, and if you need anything, don't hesitate to ask me, okay?" she smiled lightly and walked closer, looking over the group as she dropped the umbrella to her side. It was still raining, but it was sunny and the rain was stopping. "I'm just being neighborly. Also... be careful, okay? All of you. Just.... please" she smiled, but it faltered. She looked over the three again quickly. Her white hair was messing up in the wind, and she absentmindedly held her hand out, and the wind stopped just as quickly as it started. She straightened her hair out and smiled.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Logan Hart Character Portrait: Savino Morgan Character Portrait: Inanna "Ilia" Merinth Character Portrait: Roscoe White Character Portrait: Zyta Character Portrait:
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"G-good morning!" Inanna spoke up shyly almost the moment the door opened, quickly curtsying in a rather old-fashioned manner, partly out of habit long since drilled into her being, partly out of a slight trepidation at meeting the gaze of the person standing on the other side of the entryway. Lifting the very hem of her skirt ever so slightly with her delicate hands - an effect which was slightly ruined by the occasional tremor of nervous anticipation that ran through them - she dropped her head just a little too quickly, and perhaps a bit too far. Putting all these factors together, the resultant bow looked just a little comical.

The one who answered the door began to speak, and the dark-haired girl couldn't help but look up in surprise. A... a boy? This was her housemate? It took a moment to sink in, but when it did, she quickly began to blush, something which was thankfully hidden behind her protective curtains of hair. N...no way. She was going to live with a boy? But she'd barely ever interacted with anyone of her own age, let alone someone of her age and of the opposite gender! This was... She didn't know how she'd be able to talk to him or deal with him at all.

"O-oh..." She said at last, speaking up simply because she realized she'd been silent far too long to be considered socially normal. "A-alright, then." She wasn't really sure how to respond any further, so decided to just leave it at this, and began attempting to bring her duffel up the steps. She wasn't exactly very strong, so it took her several moments to haul the somewhat heavy bag through the door. By the time she finished this and turned back around, her attention grabbed by several sudden sounds, things had become much more... bizarre.

Suffice to say, when things were quickly complicated by the arrival of a white-haired lady who claimed to be their neighbor, a boy who suddenly turned transparent about the same time as he spoke, and a third, angry-seeming individual who stormed past her muttering something that sounded like a curse in a language she'd never heard, Inanna's jaw dropped, and only one word came out.

"W-what...?!"

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Logan Hart Character Portrait: Nuriel Character Portrait: Inanna "Ilia" Merinth Character Portrait: Roscoe White Character Portrait: Zyta Character Portrait:
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Nuriel heard more people enter the house and the girl's high squeaky voice. With a groan, he closed his book and put it back on his nightstand. It was time to face the music. After buttoning up his shirt, Nuriel took a deep breath, relishing the quiet before making his way up the stairs. Opening the door that led to the hallway, Nuriel closed it silently before making his way to the lobby. However, instead of walking into the middle of the room and introducing himself, Nuriel stood quietly in a shadycorner and observed his housemates. The girl seemed shy and squirrely, a white-haired lady was standing by the front door, and some elfish-looking guy was standing in the doorway, an awkward grin on his face. There was also a boy with earbuds standing in the room, though he couldn't read much off of him.

Nuriel rolled his eyes and stayed quiet. He had never held a strong presence, and he was hoping no one would notice he had arrived. Introductions were always awkward for Nuriel, seeing as he generally disliked people. Especially loud, annoying, and obnoxious people. Though to be fair, Nuriel knew he had no right to judge any of these people. He had to give them a fair chance first, but somehow he had the feeling he wasn't going to be changing his opinion.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Logan Hart Character Portrait: Nuriel Character Portrait: Inanna "Ilia" Merinth Character Portrait: Roscoe White Character Portrait: Zyta Character Portrait:
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"I suppose I should be heading back now. Good luck" Zyta said, looking at the people, then back up at the home. She sighed lightly. "Goodbye... you should come by sometime... it would be fun" she smiled and turned, walking down the street. When she figured they wouldn't see her, she smoothed back her hair, then touched her face lightly. The stark white of her hair turned to a deep raven, her eyes to a light green. "Off to do some bad deeds!" she sang to herself, but her face was set in a deep frown. She pulled a list from her coat. On it was a list of people, businesses, anything and anyone who had wronged the Card Dealer. She pressed her hands on the coat again, and it changed color to a dull green- she was happy, as everyone in town still figured she always was. She looked down on the list again, her eyes darting over the names, then landing on one in particular. Her fathers name. She smiled for the first time in a long time. She was to kill only half of the list in her hand- most of it were just warnings for a more... long-term punishment then death. She never dealt with those.

Her heels clacked against the cobblestone pathway up to an old-looking, family owned hotel. She didn't know these people, and for that she was glad- she was sent to warn them of things to come- or who to come. She made sure she had the right address, then looked a the name "Anna Kathrine Banks. Daughter of hotel owner/worker" She read aloud, looking up at the building. Oh, what did you do, Anna? she thought. In her mind, she was picturing a small little girl of ten or twelve- it had happened before. She slid open the door and a bell chimed. A girl who looked around fifteen came up to Zyta.

"Hello! I'm Anna. Do you need a room for the night? You look chilled to the bone, Miss..." the girl said, and Zyta's eyes immediately became sad. She looked so... utterly... happy.

"Yes.... It's..... er.... Jade. It's Miss Jade, dear. Sara Jade" she said quickly. The girl smiled and went back to the desk, grabbing some keys and beginning to walk to a flight of stairs. Zyta followed her, all the way to a room on what looked to be the top floor of the hotel- it was only three floors in total, after all. Anna unlocked the door and stepped in, and she followed her, flipping on a light.

"Well, here you are, Miss Jade" Anna smiled and Zyta nodded looking about the room. Her eyes landed on a plant, and she looked back at Anna. "Yes, thank you. I'm sorry" She said, and lifted her hand, the plant seeming to grow and wrap around Anna's mouth and hands, then her feet. She tried to scream, but she couldn't move. She looked suddenly terrified.

"I am.. sorry, Anna. You don't understand. But you are warned, Anna. Worse things than I will soon come for you. A tip? Don't struggle. The vines get tighter if you do. I have to go now" Zyta said, stepping forward. She patted Anna on the head of her blonde hair, then went to the window and opened it. She jumped out, the air bellow her pushing up with strong enough winds to slow her fall until she hit the ground on her feet. She ran sighed and ran a hand through her hair, and her hair and eyes became stark white and pink again. The rest of the people could wait. She wouldn't do that again today.