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Leopold Pratt

We should be like butterflies and have the courage to face the metamorphoses of life to be free

0 · 188 views · located in Downtown

a character in “The American Dream”, as played by Cayleen

Description

L E O P O L D P R A T T
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"I like it when it rains hard. It sounds like white noise everywhere, which is like silence but not empty."
- Mark Haddon, The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time



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Hopeless but Hoping

▲ Leopold Pratt ♂|Nov15|♏|9Teen❤|MN| Satyr & College Student ▲

It’s really taken me forever to start writing this little profile page because honestly, I’m not really sure what to put. I mean, how I see myself changes nearly every day and if not every day than practically every hour. How could anybody summarize their life in a few meaningless paragraphs using meaningless words to express how they really feel and think about themselves? I think who I am depends on the person looking at me, how deeply they do or do not understand, and what they see or hear. My photography and other forms of self-expression are windows showing different landscapes to each and every one of you.
So, for your benefit, I think I'll just start with a list of the basics:


Name
Leopold Laemmle Pratt. I don't like nicknames; they take away from the regality of my birth name. Leopold is German for prince of the people, remember that.

Age
19. That odd age where you're not quite old enough to do half the things you want, and too old to do the other half.

Gender
Male and proud

Species
Satyr
I've been told my ancestors were forests deities, and though I don't believe in all that 'all-powerful-and-seeing-gods' bullshit, I feel like I have some pretty big hooveprints to fill.

Skills
I’ve been musically gifted basically since birth, but that’s not exactly surprising for a Satyr. My first toy was a pan flute and you’d be pretty hard pressed to find a photograph of me under the age of six without it. As I got older, as anyone with basic comprehensive knowledge of the mystic would know, my pan flute was gradually infused with the mystic properties of my ancestors’ Pipes of Dionysus. A Satyr’s flute can incite humanoids and other satyrs to cast aside all restraints and follow their most primal of instincts, if you catch my drift. Our flutes have the power to make anyone ‘join the party’ whether they want to or not. We make great DJs.

Sexuality
This question's always bothered me. Are we really all socialized to believe that it's someone's genitalia that is the source of attraction? Like some minuscule detail of their person is all that matters. Why isn't it acceptable to be attracted to what's on the inside. We're always taught that its the inside that counts, so why aren't we asked what kind of personality we're attracted to instead of sexuality? - Haha nah, I'm gay as hell. And severely and hopelessly attracted to the Water Nymph, Art. It's almost embarrassing how over-the-heels I am for him, I don't even know his last name! I refer to him as, "Art the Hunky Water Nymph" Ugh, that gorgeous bastard needs to stop.

Goals
It’s my most treasured dream to pleasure the world with my stunning photographs as an acclaimed photographer once I get out of BCC. All I truly want is to bring joy to others with my art. Though, traveling the world wouldn’t be so heartbreaking, maybe pick up a cute boyfriend along the way…

Personality
nemophilist
- (n.) a haunter of the woods; one who loves the forest and its beauty and solitude
pluviophile
- (n.) a lover of rain; someone who finds joy and peace of mind during rainy days
wanderlust
- (n.) a desire to travel, to understand one’s very existence
dysania
- (n.) the state of finding it difficult to get out of bed in the morning
fernweh
- (n.) a crave for travel; being homesick for a place you've never been
meraki
- (v.) to do something with soul, creativity, or love; to put something of yourself in your work
odaxelagnia
- (n.) sexual arousal from biting or being bitten
balter
- (v.) to dance artlessly, without particular grace or skill but usually with enjoyment
basorexia
- (n.) the overwhelming desire to kiss
nyctophilia
- (n.) love of darkness or night; finding relaxation or comfort in the darkness
waldeinsamkeit
- (n.) forest solitude; the feeling of being alone in the woods
forelsket
- (n.) the euphoria you experience when you are first falling in love



*Mkay so warnings. This char is super stereotypically gay and hipstery so I apologize if this offends anyone but Leo is more or less a writing exercise for me. I'm trying to separate myself from my old prosey ways and go humorous and minimalist. Let's see how that plays out for me.

So begins...

Leopold Pratt's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Leopold Pratt

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#, as written by Cayleen
L E O P O L D P R A T T

“Did you hear that bitch? She asked if I got my hooves buffed by the local goblins. Goblins! Like I’d ever stoop that low. And I mean, even if I did, I most certainly wouldn’t let the local goblins touch my money makers. Have you seen their claws? Honey, I don’t think so.” Leopold looked up from his phone screen to see Sal nod sagely. That’s what he liked about Sal; he was cute and he listened. But mostly he was cute.

Speaking of attractive people, Leopold had a certain water nymph to see. He went back to his phone and turned abruptly on his hooves, effectively cutting Sal off and causing him to stumble. Without looking up, Leopold continued into the forest, leaving Sal all by his puzzled self.

“Uh-um, so I’ll just be going then?”

“See ya, Sal.” Leopold pocketed his phone in his open cardigan and lit a cigarette. Health warnings be damned, he looked cool as hell. The forest was relatively peaceful, and by that Leo meant loud-mouth birds and gross-ass bugs infested his space and air. Ugh. Why did nature have to be so gross. He frowned down at the bramble, he was probably going to get twigs and shit all stuck up between his toes. And he had just gotten them buffed and trimmed, too. Sigh, the things one does for love.

Leopold hummed to himself, lost in a lover’s reverie, and tilted his head back and exhaled. He watched the puff of smoke drift and curl through the leaf-filtered light. Damn. He should have brought his camera. That would have been such a choice snap for his blog… add a little photoshopped triangle in the center, maybe even an inspirational quote… ‘My brain hums with scraps of poetry and madness‘. Yeah, something like that. So choice.

A high pitched screech tore him from his daydream and Leopold’s ears folded back against his skull. “Jesus!” He gripped one of his throbbing ears and cursed. Stupid fucking oversensitive ears and stupid fucking nature. Why couldn’t Mother Nature teach her creations not to squawk in unsuspecting passerbys’ ears? Is that such a hard concept? He huffed and stubbed out his cigarette on a neighboring tree, tossing it to the floor. What, it’s not like he was going to stub it out with his hoof in the underbrush, that could potentially start a forest fire. He couldn’t let that happen, he was a forest deity after all.

Righting his beanie and tugging his cardigan back into place, Leopold started back on his trek to the lake. He had future-boyfriend stalking to do.

The setting changes from forest to Bluffinton, Minnesota

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Leopold Pratt

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#, as written by Cayleen
L E O P O L D P R A T T

A hellish noise erupted stage left, startling Leo into a goatish leap. He fumbled with his now airborne phone and watched in abject horror as it crashed to the forest floor. No. No no no, oh gods. Leo followed after the mobile, willing his limbs to move faster, as if picking it up quicker would lesson any damage inflicted. Leo flipped the electronic over in his palms several times before releasing a heavy breath through his nostrils.

Oh praise the gods, not even a scratch. He made a mental note to sing his praises to the Ghoul Armor manufactures.

Initial panic subsided; Leopold cursed Mother Nature for all her impractically loud and obnoxious creations and continued on his way. As he heavily trudged through the bramble and soft earth, Leopold registered the unsettling scent of heated air wafting over him. Oh gross. Didn't people know better than to light fires during the dry season? Leo frowned as he typed fervidly on his way to the lake, hopefully uninterrupted, to bask on a sun warmed rock and watch the sun set (and hopefully maybe watch his favorite shirtless-nymph swim around). 'some people have absolutely no regard for the sacrament of nature #OnlyYouCanPreventWildfires'.

Ah yes, the lake was in sight. Finally. Leo had enough stumbling over roots and bramble for one day. Why flat surfaces weren't in the forest blueprints, he'll never understand.

The satyr inhaled deeply, freeing his nostrils of the acrid campfire smoke and let a smile spread. That is, until something wet slapped across his face and chest.

Leopold stumbled back and whipped his head around to find the receptor of much of his disdain; Shela. Her body glistened in the midday sun from her perch on a partially submerged rock, mud dripping from her tail-turned catapult. Her dripping hair was piled in a ratted mess atop her head, aquatic plants hanging by clumps, and a shark like grin split her face. She looked utterly atrocious.

"Heya, short stuff," she giggled and waved her fingers in his direction. Leo didn’t know whether he wanted to laugh or puke. He did neither, opting instead to look down at his own shirt. He blanched and a shrill, gaspy whine pulled itself from his throat. His shirt, his favorite white V-neck solid! Smeared with ungodly mud and filth! Leo sputtered, tugging hopelessly at his shirt and pointed at the devil’s spawn. “I-you where’d- I- You!” Fucking hell! How could he face his hunky nymph looking like this? “You-you hooker!” His face flushed with anger and scrunched in unpleasant ways. The anger practically oozed from his soul and Leo wished uselessly for it to pierce through the wildly laughing mermaid’s body. And, just as his luck entails, his ears chose that moment to twitch and shoo away the disgusting winged insects that infested the air. Leo was tempted to stomp his hoof in frustration, he hated when they did that. It completely shattered his menacing appearance.

Leopold wanted to scream. Or cry. Or maybe both. Just, damn it all! All he wanted was to watch hot, dripping wet men in peace. Was that too much to ask?

He smoothed down his shirt and let out a deep, shaky breath through flared nostrils. That’s better. No exploding veins today. Leopold opened his eyes, his anger barely contained by his haughty demeanor, and opened his mouth to let insults fly, only to have Shela's giggle fit subside enough for her to speak, "You got a little something..." She gestured towards her cheek, impish grin still shining.

That damn woman. That absolutely infuriating fish-skank. He tried to be calm, he really did. But now the insufferable bitch had to die.

Leo dove at the laughing fishgirl, intent on wrapping his hands around her slimy neck, only to be shocked from his anger by the slap of cold water everywhere.

By Pan's flute it was cold. Really fucking cold. Leo gasped and oh praised be the gods, they were still in the shallows of the lake. Hooves were not made for swimming.

His thrashing and flailing was decidedly not ungraceful, thank you very much. And he most certainly did not stumble over the rocks as he pulled himself out of the water.

"Leo dear, you forgot something," Shela's patronizing voice sung, causing Leo's fists to clench and jaw to grind. He stiffly stomped back to snatch his sopping beanie from her clutches. "Oh, and Art isn't here. He went out."

Of fucking course he did. His grip tightened around his beanie, lake water dripping from between his fingers as he snarled, "I hope you get caught in a fisherman's net," ignoring the fish as she coyly pointed to the No Fishing sign, he stomped back into the woods.

Leopold tromped through the forest tugging uselessly at his now stretched and transparent shirt. A whine pushed pass his downward tilted lips as he futilely attempted to push his now limp hair into its usual styled coif.

He paused his steady grumblings as his fingers brushed against something slimy and sucked in a breath. Leo squeezed his eyes shut as he pulled a limp piece of aquatic plant life from his horn. Oh no. Oh gross. Oh why. He flung it at a tree with a shrill squeak and shook his hands free of the slime. This was all that sea hag’s fault. All he wanted was to watch Art a little, but instead he had his entire outfit and day ruined. Oh and look at that, his freshly groomed legs and hooves were caked in mud. Just what he needed.

The trees began to thin and oh thank heavens pavement. Leopold slowed his pace from his stumbling trot to a leisurely clomp, even if he was soaked to the bone, he had to keep up appearances.

The setting changes from bluffinton-minnesota to Downtown

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Leopold Pratt

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#, as written by Cayleen
L E O P O L D P R A T T

“You go for a swim recently?” An inquiring voice sounded from behind, sending a spark of tension through Leo’s shoulders.

“Oh, you must think you’re real cute,” he said with a harsh snort, “’Did I go for a swim’ Ha! I’ll have you know I work very hard to perfect my stylishly casual look every morning and that’s not something you just-just throw away by jumping in a goddamn lake.” Leo’s voice cracked with emotion, “My life is so hard and no one understands.”

“I could help with that,” a surprisingly timid voice creaked from the hulking mass of metal and flame that loomed above the sopping satyr’s head. “The wet, that is.”

The acrid smell of smoke and smelting metal assaulted Leo’s large nostrils and before Leopold could complain, he was hit with a scalding blast of heat from the cracks in the fire golem’s metallic exterior. “W-what do you think you’re doing,” Leo shrilled at the hulking metal beast, “Oh, no, absolutely not. If this mud dries it will be even harder to wash out!” He huffed indignantly, lifting his nose to the air, “Not to mention the shrinkage if these are not properly handled,” The ‘were you raised in a barn’ was left unsaid.

“Now why don’t you go fuck off before you set something important on fire.” With a huff and a twirl Leopold clomped off across the road towards his apartment building. Fucking fire golems, think they can solve everything. A bunch of hot heads is what they are, clunking about with their hulking mass and raging temperature. Bah.

The floorboards creaked as Leopold navigated the narrow halls, his clomps and frustrated grumblings muffled by the plaster walls. Leo reached for his apartment’s doorknob, eager to save his damp clothing, only to find it resisted. Sal must have locked up before work, the overcautious deer. Leo dug in his wet cardigan pocket, hunting for his keys, only to find his fingers found nothing, “No, no nononono,” Oh, gods show him some mercy. Where were his damned keys? “Sal, you in there?” He called through the door, still futilely turning the handle. When no answer came, Leo jiggled the doorknob violently one last time before thumping his horns against the door in defeat. Gods dammit! His keys must have fallen out in that accursed lake. Freaking mermaids. There was absolutely no way he was going back into the forest to find them, but he certainly wasn’t going to stand around and watch the mud dry.

Leopold stomped back out of the apartment building, rushing towards Crabapple’s and grumbling over the injustice served to him by the universe. Hopefully Sal was still there. Sal better be there, there will be hell to pay if Leo is forced to scour the town for him in such a tragic state. Thank the gods the bookstore wasn’t all that far from their apartment, only a few windows away from Reynolds’ Records, actually. Leopold’s angry trot did not slow as he threw open the doors of Crabapple’s, murderous gaze zeroing in on the startled faun behind the counter, “Sal! I need your key.”

The setting changes from downtown to Bluffinton, Minnesota

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Cassius Krause Character Portrait: Leopold Pratt

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C a s s i u s

Cassius ran his fingers over the old collection of books, willing one of them to jump out at him. After an eternity of fruitless searching, his hand absentmindedly hooked onto an annoyingly yellow book causing his whole body to jerk back. He frowned and tugged out the novel from it's snug position. Blinking at the block lettering Naked Lunch, he shrugged to himself. Why not? Summer break was around the corner, so his life was quickly becoming devoid of meaning. It's pathetic that the meaning of his life was public education. Whatever, education is a noble pursuit or that's what Aphrodite forces down the students' throats every year.

Thumbing through the pristine pages, he picked up on odd phrases such as 'insect agony' and a lot of slang. Cassius furrowed his eyebrow and flipped to the beginning...oh, it was published in the late 1950's. Of course. That whole later half of the 20th century was a culture black-hole. It was only five dollars and anything to help out the local economy, so Cassius mosied his way to the cashier, where Sal was managing the register much to his delight. Sal was always his favorite faun.

Before he actually reached Sal and his lovely clerical skills, a whirlwind of anger and goat hair burst into the tiny, crooked shop. A huge, shit-eating grin took over his face as his arch nemesis startled the faun.

Throwing his arm around the satyr, Cassius wrinkled his nose at the odd stench that curled from the goat-man. It was like a combination of sour fury and fishy mud. “Man Leo, you're really letting go huh? I mean, taking a dive in the dump? Goats do that right? They eat trash,” he said conversationally before waving at the poor skittish faun and handing him the paper-back book to check-out.

The setting changes from bluffinton-minnesota to Downtown

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Cassius Krause Character Portrait: Leopold Pratt

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#, as written by Cayleen
L E O P O L D P R A T T

Leopold’s ears swiveled back at the grating voice, and the tension in his back built as a willowy arm was draped across his shoulders. Leo clenched his jaw and ground his teeth, his flexed fist itching for the jaw of the bane of his existence. He hardly noticed as Sal took a couple steps back from the counter with a muttered, “Oh, dear.” Oh, Leopold was going to kill him. He was absolutely going to kill him. Leo could only picture himself reaching out and strangling the irritating witch, his inner voice shaking with sadistic mirth. No, no he was classier than that. Leopold Laemmle Pratt did not stoop to the level of lowly witch boys.

Straightening his anger-hunched spine, Leopold haughtily removed the irritant’s limb from across his shoulders, and smoothed back his now limp hair. As he opened his maw and peered down his snout to tell Cassius just how much he disliked his putrid touch, the witch spoke, “Man Leo, you're really letting go huh? I mean, taking a dive in the dump? Goats do that right? They eat trash.”

Leo’s jaw hung, gaping wordlessly. A series of unattractive, sputtering scoffs escaped before his mouth snapped shut and his face flushed with unprecedented anger. Not only did the witch insult his integrity as a satyr, he had the gall to slight his credibility as a fashionable and well-groomed individual. “You, dickweed,” the venom dripped from the word as if it was the most vulgar slur imaginable.