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Malik Washington

"Life is hard, but you gotta live through this shit. One way or another."

0 · 217 views · located in New York City

a character in “The Odd Kids”, as played by Jaybt9




Birth Date:
November 2nd

His chances of a high school diploma were jeopardized before he could even get to his junior year, so instead of looking for a city job, he ventured other opportunities in order to survive. One of which is going to an underground fight club, where money is gambled and earned by doing what he does best: Kickboxing, and some street fighting skills along the way. Any way to get himself out of this dump, even though he’s aware that his road is going to be a long way. Also rich men should be careful about flaunting their nice things, as he’ll kick their ass and mug their things as well. In the group, he isn’t the leader, but he is more of a bodyguard, alongside Izzie.


Any scars, tattoos, etc?:
Besides what can be seen in the picture, Malik has a tribal scorpion on the back of his right shoulder, to symbolize his astrological sign (Scorpio). On his right arm is also a Jasmine flower, representing his on and off girlfriend. He has a few scars on his knuckles from his moments at the fight club.

Physical Appearance:
His 5’11” height surprisingly doesn’t make him the tallest in group, but he’s still intimidating nonetheless. His frame is slightly narrow, but built with muscle, especially his abdominal area. His arms and legs are his strong suits, spending so much time using them. His smooth skin is coffee brown, while the sight of body hair ranges from his legs, his arms, and "other" places. His chest, stomach, and back are slightly hairy, while the only sign of facial hair is the small patch on his chin. His head appears to be wider than average, but normal in depth. His lips are full and smooth, while his eyes are an intense dark brown, which appear black from afar. His unkempt ebony hair forms small curls on its own when left alone, forming a small afro. He makes sure to cut it whenever he has the money. His attire is street and rugged, not giving a damn about fancy clothing. Baggy jeans and tanktops are his ordinary casual get-ups. One thing he keeps to his heart is his gold chain necklace, given to him as a gift from his mother.

Awwe, he mad bro.


ImageIf “testosterone” was his middle name, he would be telling that fact to everyone in the world, and proudly embracing it. He has an urge to do anything destructive or blood pumping. He can be cocky and full of swagger at times, while demanding some respect in the house, but he is also laid-back whenever he wants time to himself. He hardly ever lets people inside of his room because of this.

His pleasure principle is known throughout the group, being easily flirtatious towards other women, including those in the Odd Kids, except Izzie of course. His rookie status and masculine presence in the underground club has gotten a few shares of women in his bed, or their beds. Just like the majority of the Odd Kids group, Malik has sex and money on his mind.
However, this “sex and money” mindset is what greatly affects his relationship with his girlfriend, Jasmine. How they got together? They don’t know, but once they got together, their relationship was like a light switch, turning off and on very frequently. On the bright side, even the group knows how much he loves Jasmine. He’ll kick any guy’s ass if they mistreat Jasmine.

One obvious flaw is Malik’s temper, which elevates to a peak. The group worries about him at times, because they’ll fear that one day he might turn suicidal. Living with his alcoholic, abusive father when he was younger had affected Malik’s mental stability. His mother was hardly ever in his life because she was addicted to drugs and went missing when he was 10. His addiction to fighting comes from his motivation to beat the hell out of his father one day. When Malik is drunk AND stressed is when he gets worse. At first he’s smiling and stumbling every direction, but a sign of disrespect causes him to fly fists everywhere, and throw whatever gets in his way, not remembering anything the next morning. All in all, his cutting edge aura seems to tranquil by softness, or a hug, his only weakness. Never experiencing it since his mother's disappearance, he secretly searches for it.


Strangely, Almonds. The group hardly has enough money to buy plenty of meats, so alternatively, he picks another excellent source of protein.

Besides his heavy dedication to kick boxing, he also likes to listen to music. While there are the typical mainstream sounds of rap from Lil Wayne, and Tech N9ne that irritates the others in the group, they seem to tolerate another genre of interest: Psychedelic Rock, from artists like Jimi Hendrix and Rotary Connection. Lying on his bed and staring at the cracked ceiling gives the perfect time for music like this.

Vodka. He feels that it burns his pains and stress away. Something influenced by his father, but he fails to realize that.

Adrenaline through and through.

Person in group:
Excluding his girlfriend Jasmine, the only people in the group that he is cordial with are Dylan and Shin, both being the older guys in the group. Dylan he communicates with regularly, while him and Shin are friendly competitors. The girls-Kendra, and Lillia-he tends to flirt with from time to time. Present's tender age of 13 is why he doesn't flirt with her, while he doesn't find Izzie to be all that attractive. Malik isn’t as close to Izzie as the others are, but they both know to respect each other’s boundaries.

None. He doesn’t disrespect anyone’s hustle. As long as they are the best at it. Besides, he's too much of a sex addict to dislike prostitutes, while he is a mugger himself, but not as actively.

Person in group:
Bret and Chris. Bret annoys the shit out of Malik, especially when he rambles on and on about random things that everyone else doesn't seem to care about, while Chris is annoying and untrustworthy.

Thing to do:
Study, which is why he hated school, and dropped out.



Grapefruit Juice. Leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

Etc: Some say that he is “well-endowed”. He’ll be the first to let you know that he isn’t rich, but…..

So begins...

Malik Washington's Story


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Malik Washington
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#, as written by Jaybt9
A white light from above clicked with a loud noise. It’s luminescence shining brightly and blindly. Enough for someone lying on the floor to awaken. A young man with his brown eyes covered by his coffee-stained hands, because of the white light above him. Tattoos covered his upper body and arms, saluting his rebellious nature. Perplexed of what was going on, he stood up to his feet, wondering what “place” he was in, especially with several mirrors surrounding him. Its reflections revealed his dirty, battered face. His right eye swollen and blood streaming from a cut on his bottom lip. The area remained silent, but it was going to change.


An echoing voice rang with such fury. Such terror. Such potentness. Whoever this man was, his dominating voice caused this young teenager to look around with dread and anger.

“What are you running away from, boy?”

“I’m not running away from anything!”, the teenager yelled out of rage.

“Oh, aren’t you?”

The teenager was still searching for the man’s presence. His physical body, but still no progress was made. He wanted every opportunity to find it.

“I know you’re lying, Malik.” The man uttered out after the teenager’s response, “That’s the same lie your shithead mother said, right before she left.”

Sounds of crying resonated in Malik’s ears. The man’s voice cracking a bit from extracting such distress.

“You know what? I spent so many years to make your mother happy. I gave the best clothes, and the best jewelry. Taking her to the best places around the city, but she still wasn’t satisfied, so she drugged herself and couldn't withstand it, so she ran off, leaving us. She caused me to drink my sorrows away. That's the problem with her. She’s fucking spoiled rotten! I guess like mother, like son. ”

“That’s bullshit!”
, Malik interrupted in loud volume.

“Bullshit huh?”

Looking at the reflection of himself, Malik could hear few footsteps clicking around him, until they shortly stopped, and a figure of a man appeared under a spotlight behind him. This man’s hair was dirtied and unkempt, while his eyes sagged from stress. His tanktop and jeans complimented his hair as well. Malik quickly turned his back to see the true image of this “enemy”, but turning around would be the first mistake, as Malik’s reflection in front of him would be replaced by this man, spreading all around the others and surrounding outnumbered Malik.

Wanting to put out his frustrations, Malik ran to the man opposite of him, and threw a quick punch, wanting this man to feel the same ache he experienced, but this would be Malik’s next mistake. The punch only caused cracks on the mirror, and a cut on his knuckles as well. The reflection of this man was still standing, but the mirror caused his face to become disoriented.

“What’s a matter, boy? Can’t take the heat?”

Malik turned to the opposite mirror, running to throw another punch, hoping that it was the real thing, but still no outcome, but another mirror broken. Malik continued to punch mirrors with all of his might. Tears beginning to flow down his face from the pain he was inflicting to himself. Blood staining his fingers and the floor below.

“You ran away instead of facing me like a man? Now you are living in a dump with a bunch of whores and drug pushers with no fucking money, and let alone a diploma. You aren’t going anywhere. You’ll be staying here just like the rest of those delinquents. Even if that little bitch of yours moves on with some other man. You will still be running away from me, and not doing shit but going to prison.”

Eventually, all of the mirrors were ruined and stained in young blood. Malik’s anger rapidly adjusted into confusion. Out of breath from the amount of energy released onto the reflective canvases. Malik looked down to his hands, damaged and injured.

“All of it is because of you!”, Malik screamed out, but ended with a crack.

“Don’t you fucking understand? You bothruined me! Put me through all kinds of shit, and I’m tired of it. I’ve gotten rid of that bitch, but now I’m going to get rid of someone else who made my life a living hell.”

A click of a loaded gun struck Malik’s ear, causing him to his head. In front of him was the man, holding a gun between his eyes. Tears continued to drown his eyes, fearing his life and death.

“Say your prayers, son.”

Malik’s vision lowered to darkness, and at the sound of the shot…..Malik instantly escaped from his dream cloud of “hell”, opening his eyes and trying to catch his breath. His pupils had dilated, and his eyes rose, expressing fear. His heart beating at a quicker pace, but they would all the go back to normal when he realized that everything was fine in the real world. At least for now. Living in this shithole of a city could cause anyone to go mad. The first view he witnessed was the ceiling fan above him, remaining still and frozen. The ceiling as empty and white as his room seemed to be. He forgot to turn the ceiling fan on the night before, so the warm room temperature caused sweat to surround his body, and on the bottom of his pillow. The sheets chaotically on his bed caused his bare, tattooed chest and black boxers to become exposed.

He looked at the windows away from him. The outside brought little indigo light through the closed blinds into the room, meaning it must have been early in the morning. He let out a long sigh as it wasn’t enough sleep for him to feel “refreshed” for the day. “Shit”, he whispered to himself. He hadn’t been sleeping the minimum of 9 hours for months, and it was taking a toll on him. Stress was heading his way, and the pain from his knuckles was slowly easing, though sharp and still lively.

His night was rough, but was relieved that he got through it smoothly. There were no matches at he had to fight in at the underground, so he had to do it with the “five finger discount”, or two “five finger discounts” in his case. A little fling in the Brooklyn city had occurred with dozens in attendance. One man, in particular, had worn a white fur coat to the ceremony. Let’s just say it took some help with a car blocking the limousine’s path, and the teenager robbed him right at the spot, with a punch or two along the way.

He hardly got much from his accomplishments: A fur coat, a watch, and the man’s wallet with a 100 dollar bill in it. It also had some credit cards, but he assumed that the man would cancel them anyways, so he disregarded those, but kept them in case the other teenagers may have wanted to use them. The rest he was insisting on the others to pawn, and get some good amount of money, especially on rent.

At least that summed up his night. The next morning was just beginning. For the short period, he heard nothing but silence in his room, until a door opening and shutting erupted to his ears, causing him to look at what was behind the closed door. The group might have returned from what they were doing.