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Nas Amasio-Hansen

"I really didn't intend on coming back here."

0 · 666 views · located in Oakhedge

a character in “villains”, as played by chanelindistress

Description

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Ikenasio Amasio-Hansen
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full name: ikenasio anjelo amasio-hansen
nicknames: nas is the most common and preferred, though nas endures being called "icky" by his baby brother, but no one else
age: 22
sexuality: homosexual
occupation: the bulk of his income derives from his occupation as a certified heavy equipment operator, but he makes a side hustle off of being in the undergound mma, even though no one knows about it
hex: #307D7E
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just a drink and you'll feel better
in my blood - shawn mendes
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appearance:

To complete his perpetual always-from-the-wrong-side-of-the-tracks look, Nas had always been that undeniably intimidating guy with his broad-shoulder, six foot three inch frame that seemed to tower over his peers while at the same time being able to slink away as easily and as quietly as a cat. A part of it can be attributed to genetics, the other (particularly, now) to how fit he keeps himself, but Nas maintains his rather muscular physique with vigilance. Not because he's vain enough to want to be the rough-looking kid his classmates once lauded him as, but because regulating the barely restrained force of nature pounding in his veins through a punching bag is a lot better than unleashing it on some unsuspecting victim.

His skin is forever tanned, an olive complexion inherited from his parents' combined Polynesian backgrounds, though his continuous work in the sun may play a contributing factors. His body holds no scars and he was never a fan of tattoos other than traditional Polynesian-influenced one on his right shoulder and bicep, a depiction of a stylized turtle at the heart surrounded by the ocean, and sharks and spears protecting him. His eyes are lighter than a regular brown shade, a dollop of honey in the irises to make them appear more molten when under the sun's rays. His dark hair has been kept short, but is naturally thick like his eyebrows, appearing just slightly tousled due to how often he runs his fingers through the surprisingly soft locks. Nas is rather simple about fashion; he wears clothes because he knows he needs to, there's no reason to splurge too often on the latest, especially when there are more important things to pay for like rent and food. Though, he does tend to wear henleys and has a plethora of jackets, mostly denim or leather.



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my every turn feels haunted
glass heart - sam tinnesz
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personality:

Taking on as much of the weight of his family's economic situation at such a young age - and doing so while compromising his own moral standing, no less - resulted in the formation of a rock-hard persona to match his physique. For the majority of his life once Nas hit thirteen, he was considered the intimidating sibling, and to some extent, he reveled in it. Being attributed to a hardened, take-no-nonsense sort of person meant that he nor his siblings would me messed with too harshly. Sure, he endured a bit of the same ribbing a lot of his also unpopular classmates endured, but it no one could ever say he was bullied. More-so, it always looked like he was being pushed to a point and then others would back off and for that, they were smart.

Because he has spent so much time - even before his mother left - regulating his reactions and tempering the more intense emotional responses he holds underneath the surface, it is easy for Nas to appear unfeeling, a carefully controlled facade he clings to. It was always easier for him to let his little brothers feel more, express themselves more while he had to be responsible, to be the protective presence he's always been known for, even towards those he's not close to. Call it his superman complex, if you will, but Nas' instinct has always been to defend those who can't defend themselves. Even if he's considered a touch brash and reckless for it. At least, physically he can back it up. He actually likes the way that he is, not just because he derives pleasure from being able to turn some of the superficially powerful people into shivering messes because they're not prepared to deal with his reservoirs of strength and sharp tongue that happens to be backed up by a sharp enough eye to have taken in your tells, but because it's just easier than dealing with the actual feelings and thoughts he's left to drink or smoke away with whiskey and marijuana.

Though he appears perpetually cool and as if he cannot be bothered with trivial things, a simple guy like Ikenasio Amasio-Hansen does feel a lot more than people give him credit for. It just so happens that sex is easier than admitting to wanting more than what he deserves for how far he was and still technically is willing to go for the people he loves. He's haunted by the loss of his mother, the parent he had always been closest to and whose absence he felt the strongest growing up. Forever still reeling from not being able to respond appropriately because his caring soul couldn't let his dead take the full impact of her loss and his brothers' guilt on his own when Nas could provide aid, even if said aid was questionable. He's still overcome with guilt and remorse for the addiction he helped see through, not over a younger version of himself having justified those breakdowns he wasn't supposed to know about by how fed his brothers were, how much lighter his father's steps became until Nas felt how heavy his own were. Allows himself the subtle pleasure of having his even deeper sense of self-hatred and guilt beat into him through the fists of strangers in underground rings when he remembers a teenage girl with her life gone too soon and her heart no longer pounding in her chest, wrapped in a black bag as she was carried away to a morgue because of his own dealings. At least he beats them back, right?


likes

coffee ✓ reading ✓ mixed martial arts ✓ swimming ✓ marijuana ✓ driving ✓ most seafood except fish ✓ being busy ✓ dark chocolate ✓ his family ✓ walking around his apartment shirtless and barefoot ✓ cooking

dislikes

when people wear too much perfume or cologne ✘ airplanes ✘ overly sweet desserts, esp. citrus flavors ✘ fish ✘ vodka ✘ bullies ✘ his mother, sometimes ✘ spicy food ✘ being forced to confront his feelings ✘ snobs




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a creature in my bloodstream chews me up so i can feel something
touch - daughter
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history:

Telling their small family that Lani Amasio-Hansen suffered from life-long depression and anxiety probably would have aided in the kids' understanding of why their mother left them without ever looking back, maybe just a little. Not enough to truly justify her absence, not in Ikenasio's eyes at least, but something would have been better than having all of his happy memories of the woman being overrun by the one of her giving him a tearful goodbye kiss on the forehead and telling him to take care of his little brothers before his dad came home. For the first thirteen years of his life, Nas was a pretty good kid. He had always seemed like the quieter child in comparison to the two rowdy boys who followed him, but his mother always said that he took after her in that aspect. Nas had liked that as a kid, liked that though he took after his father and grew like a weed, mentally he was all her.

Then his mother left and it became very clear to him that he needed to not only be a shoulder for his siblings, and the one person to truly keep them in line because he was the only one equipped to meet them on their level, but for their father as well. He learned then that - despite being an already loving person to his family and putting them before himself anyway - he needed to put aside what he felt for their sake, especially when he realized that the part-time jobs he got after school weren't really cutting it. His dad had to take on two jobs and was exhausted, and with both of his brothers acting out in some way and forcing his already tired dad to parent even more, he needed something. Which was why it was easy for a guy in his neighborhood to get him into dealing. Nas had always been told to stay away from that crowd by his mom and had. But with her presence gone, and his family in need, he did what he had to do.

It was easy for some time to pretend he didn't mind selling drugs like Adderall, codeine, and Oxycontin. He told himself that he wasn't the one choosing to handle everyday issues that could be solved with a joint by using harder substances, even if he was the one supplying them and taking the money he earned from them back to his own healthier family. And though his father suspected what he was doing, even called him on it when his brothers were both sleep and Nas was coming in late, all they could do was agree to disagree when Nas pointed out that his dad - with no degree and no one else to help him out since both of his parents were in retirement homes - had no leg to stand on. To this day, that set the tone for their relationship, this awkward and distant thing that Nas still wishes he could change, but also understands that it can't just be on him. His dealing ended only when a classmate overdosed and died, something he hadn't anticipated. Nas never did forgive himself, even being so much of a masochist that he attended her funeral and let her little sister cry on his shoulder. It was why he left. He couldn't handle it; he barely can now, even with a willing body underneath him at night and one underneath his fists when no one who knows him can see him.

So begins...

Nas Amasio-Hansen's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Harry Stone Character Portrait: Shailene Ekwensi-Hart Character Portrait: Nas Amasio-Hansen Character Portrait: Jared Garcia Character Portrait: Jackson Park Character Portrait: Sutton Deveroux
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HARRY STONE
#0081a7 - outfit
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xxxi spent all my years believing in you
xxxbut just can't get any relief, lord
xxxsomebody, somebody,
xxxcan anybody find me somebody to love?

xxx
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Harry tugged on the bottom of his blazer, staring at his outfit. As tempted as he'd been to go for something a little more... bold, he'd strayed on the side of more conservative. He told himself that if he'd gone too bold, nobody would recognise him. And that little bit of pride said that he wanted people to recognise him, wanted them to see how much he'd changed. But he would be lying if he said that there wasn't that element of fear as well, fear of how he would be received.

Trinity Davenport was hosting some sort of party, a get together of old schoolmates. As if things had never really changed. He felt like there wasn't much of a point in pretending that nothing had. Hell, his outfit, complete with eyeliner, was a constant reminder of exactly how much had. Rumours about Matthew Brokenborough had started flying. Harry had always had his suspicions that Matthew hadn't been an angel, but nothing concrete. Harry's own suspicions hadn't yet been confirmed, but part of him was glad for that. For Shay's sake.

He sighed, grabbing a scarf and slinging it around his neck for a final touch, before picking up his phone and texting Shay.

To: shay <3
you still picking me up like old times?


It felt so surreal to be back in Oakhedge. Everything still felt exactly the same, even though it had been four years. The strangest part of it all was not going home. He was staying in a hotel the other side of town from his parents. If they were even still living here. Part of him wanted to go back in all his dramatic, glam rock style just to rub it in, just to horrify them by seeing what he'd become. If they'd even care. Honestly, he felt like they'd just been glad to get him out from under their feet. Had they relished the control? Did they miss it at all? Or were they just glad that it wasn't them having to deal with him any more? Would they actually see the man who used to be their son, and decide to be happy that he was living his truth, who he really was? This was the constant battle. The anger that made him hope they were angry too, that all they'd ever wanted was a puppet to manipulate. And then the longing that they were just happy for him, that they hadn't really meant it. Most of the time, the anger won, but there was still just that little bit of longing there. But for tonight, he decided to ignore it. The anger made him bold, confident. And that was what he wanted.

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RIN DAVENPORT
outfit - #e3ce00 - makeup
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xxxyou know that truth hurts
xxxbut secrets kill
xxxcan't help thinking that i love it still
xxxstill here, there must be something real.

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Already dressed, Trinity was sweeping around the house making sure everything was ready. This had to be just right. It had to be perfect. Everyone was already stressed and confused and emotional. The news about Matthew had rattled Rin enough. The fact that he'd cheated on every girlfriend he'd ever had and had apparently sold Ritalin to freshmen while in Harvard had just made her wonder how many of her other friends had similar secrets. She'd invited as many people as she knew from their old school and told them to bring their friends. Her family were out of town and had let her use the whole house for this party.

She knew that she was overdressed. But right now, she just needed to feel powerful. Being back in this house, sleeping in her old bedroom... It was bringing back memories she would have rather not remembered. It was making her feel like that weak, terrified teenage girl again. It wasn't something that an expensive dress and heels would fix. But it was helping at least.

"Marie! Etes-nous pret?" She demanded. "Oui, mademoiselle." was the answer, but it did nothing to relax her. She poured herself a glass of champagne and paced the hall, waiting for the doorbell to ring. She wondered if this had been a mistake, if she should have just gone out to a bar instead. There was so much that could go wrong here. Would she put people off with the scale of the whole event? Had they just been expecting... red cups, cheap beer, and shitty music? Would the champagne, the food, the multiple rooms set up as dancefloors, each with a different style of music, put them off? Or would she just impress them?

She sipped her champagne as she carefully sat down on the stairs, picking at a jewel on her dress. She didn't even know if any of her own high school friends were coming. And they hadn't even been that close. This was all just another big show, and she didn't know who she was throwing it for. She resisted the temptation to run her hands through her immaculately curled hair, instead staring at the door, waiting for it for the doorbell to ring, for somebody to just... talk to.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Harry Stone Character Portrait: Shailene Ekwensi-Hart Character Portrait: Nas Amasio-Hansen
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S H A I L E N EXE K W E N S I - H A R T
_____ T H EXS U R V I V O R_____

Outfit: Link Here
Location: Family Home
Dialogue Color ✦ #C8A2C8
Thought Color ✧ #785278



Shailene stared at the woman in the mirror, eyed black lace that delicately pushed her breasts up into a tasteful decolletage that still, somehow, left her feeling like it wasn't enough - not bare enough, not...right enough. The Matthew in her head told her she was being a skanky bitch. Shailene couldn't help but agree.

Shailene wondered what it said about her that she couldn't conjure up any guilt for that. Wondered what it meant that she couldn't piece together any real feeling upon the discovery of her ex-boyfriend's death, that for once - for the first time in so long - his voice in her head was the only remnant of his existence in this world. She didn't know how she felt about that. She didn't know how she felt about not knowing how she felt about it all. She mostly felt like she was going to enjoy the wine Rin Davenport was more than likely to provide at this party. It was a Rin Davenport affair; there was always wine at a Rin Davenport affair, even when there shouldn't have been.

Still though, there was a part of her that bemoaned her lack of tact - the understated class Matthew had both literally and figuratively beat into her body, the one she had to relearn was unnecessary in the pursuit of her own peace of mind, no matter the ghost imprints of his fists on her flesh and in her heart. It wasn't a strong enough voice, however, to deter her from her fashion choices for the evening, Shailene decided, idly running a hand through her currently pin-straight purple hair. She'd run a flat-iron over it before her flight.

"Oh - that's...that's nice," her mother's voice decidedly opined from Shailene's childhood bedroom door. Shailene caught the older woman's eye from the corner of her mirror, caught the tail-end of her disdain just as the older version of herself (or so she'd been told) tried smothering it with a quick smile. Shailene rolled her eyes before turning sideways to somewhat face her mother. "See, you say it like that and I'm half convinced to stay home." Shailene failed to mention that in truth, as opposed to pretending as though she grieved Matthew's loss like everyone else, she wanted to stay home in the first place. Diane immediately expressed her displeasure at that statement. "No, no no, I'm not saying - it's fine. It's..."

In the time that she hurried to backtrack on what Shailene knew was none other than reluctant acceptance of her current attire, Diane had made it across the room and into her daughter's space, hands rising to cup her face. "You look gorgeous, baby. I just wish..." Diane sighed, thumb brushing against the soft skin high on Shailene's cheek and Shailene wondered if she knew that her sleep had been disturbed since returning to her childhood home, that she'd been unable to drift back into peaceful slumber because something inside her felt wrong. "I know things ended bad for you and Matthew. It's a shame you two couldn't reconcile before he died - if not for both of your sakes, then for your own." Shailene didn't tell her that she didn't want to reconcile with him, that she wanted nothing to do with him if it didn't include screaming. Screaming and hitting because she deserved to hit back, hit back as hard and as many times as she so pleased because. She. Fucking. Deserved. It.

She didn't have the time to say it anyway. Her phone vibrated on her bed - a reprieve Harry probably would never know he had just provided - and Shailene fought down the urge to smile. "That would be Harry," she exclaimed and didn't bother to hide her enthusiasm at being able to avoid where the conversation was going. Diane hadn't been in love with Matthew, but from her distorted view, he had been a good guy. She wouldn't understand this gaping hole in Shailene's soul, this loss of something she was sure had to have been lost for a long time but she had remained ignorant to its loss until she had gotten the call. Either way, Shailene had avoided the Matthew topic for the last three years and refused to pick it up now. She hurried to her bed where her phone and clutch lay, scooped them up so that she could text a response to Harry, and then turned back towards her mom. "I gotta go. I'll text you when I get there and when I'm on my way back, ok?"

To: Harry
leaving now <3 <3 <3 <3

Diane stared at her for a beat too long and Shailene felt naked in a way she should have felt when she first looked into the mirror. Then Diane's lips stretched into a soft smile that made something in Shailene ache and said, "Sure thing, tell Harry I said hi and that I still want him over for dinner while y'all both are in town." Shailene nodded once and still felt her mother's gaze on her even as she turned her back to her and headed out the door. She heard herself call out a parting exclamation to her father but kept moving, kept walking until she was in her car and driving away from that gaze, from the questions her mother's mouth had yet to form.

She didn't know if she'd ever be ready to answer those questions.



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I K E N A S I OXA M A S I O - H A N S E N
_____ T H EXP R O T E C T O R_____

Outfit: Link Here
Location: Oakhedge Diner
Dialogue Color ✦ #307D7E
Thought Color ✧ ##183E3F



It wasn't Nas' idea to attend the party.

In fact, had someone decided to leave it up to him, he would have spent the evening messing with Mrs. Clark - the kind African-American woman who still had yet to retire as a waitress at the diner even though she'd been working there when he had been a teenager - and hanging out with his brothers. The diner had been one of those ideal places late at night when he should have been home, but couldn't be. Mrs. Clark - Eva, she had always told him to call her, though his manners disallowed him to do so unless he was too worn out to continue them - had always given him a short stack of chocolate chip pancakes that he never had the heart to turn down, a glass of ice cold milk, and told him stories. He knew about how her mother's mother lived through the latter part of what historians called slavery in America, the Jim Crow era (which was still slavery, but "white people like to make themselves feel better by giving it another title, don't tell 'em I said that," she'd told him with a conspiratorial wink), and even the riots and change that did come from MLK's death. She told him how her grandparents moved their family up north, and how her mother met her father. Told him how she had rejected her husband until she just couldn't anymore, knew that though she acted like the man was the most annoying creature on the face of the planet, he was her creature and that she loved him like the sun loved to set - an act that just was supposed to be, an option because there was no other conceivable option but this inevitability.

However, though he could have spent the rest of the evening with her and his little brothers and told stories of his time away - amended stories that he knew she would see through better than most people because she had that way about her of seeing past his bullshit and deep into parts of him he thought were heavily guarded - Anjelo reminded him that he was supposed to go. The worst part was that his baby brother, now a senior in high school, knew what he was doing when he said it - knew that stating that very fact in front of Mrs. Clark would result in the expectant gaze she fixed upon him. "Now, honey..." She trailed off and Nas winced because he could feel the mothering before it began, and the burning ache that ensued wasn't going to be doused by the remaining quaff of Coca Cola, though he tossed it back like the shot he was going to need later anyway. "I know, I know - I'm going," he assured them all and kicked Tamiano's shin when his other brother, the one after him, snorted. Sighing reluctantly, Nas rose and dug out his wallet so that he could toss down the twenty dollar bill and the ten dollar bill, which would cover their meal and give Mrs. Clark the tip she always tried to refuse. "Since some people keep tryin' to get rid of me." He shot the older woman a teasing grin. She answered with swatting him with her dish towel, and Nas barked out a laugh.

Shoving his stool back into place, Nas eyed his brothers and he hoped they saw the plea in his eyes for help. "You two need a ride home?" Obviously, because Tamiano was a descended from the devil himself and hated Nas even after all he had ever done for the ungrateful brat, Tammy smirked before replying, "Oh, nah...we're just gonna spend time with our good friend Eva here...you go right ahead and have fun drinking your Schnopps and sangrias while the rest of us poor saps drink diner coffee and hot cocoa." Nas almost punched him and Tammy knew it too, a subtle flinch he tried covering up when Nas took a step towards him, the threat in his honey-dipped eyes. "I hate you - both of you!" He swore and ignored Anjelo's indignant squawk of "I didn't even do anything!" as he headed out the door. Out in the slight chill of the evening, Nas ran a hand over his face.

How anyone was capable of realistically conveying sympathy for the death of a classmate he was sure not everyone actually liked was beyond him, and was going to be the work of a good man. A better man...a man who clearly was not going to be him, he decided in the steps it took to get to his truck. Nas going for the sake of free, expensive booze and he didn't care what it said about him - that he should have felt bad for the dead and the loss some people were surely feeling. Matthew Brokenborough, especially from what he'd heard about the guy's time at Harvard, had not been a good man when alive. Nas didn't understand why anyone was willing to pretend that that was who he was in death. Nas sure wasn't going to.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Harry Stone Character Portrait: Shailene Ekwensi-Hart Character Portrait: Nas Amasio-Hansen
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

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S H A I L E N EXE K W E N S I - H A R T
_____ T H EXS U R V I V O R_____

Outfit: Link Here
Location: Hotel > En route
Dialogue Color ✦ #C8A2C8
Thought Color ✧ #785278



Immediately upon seeing Harry emerge from his room, a grin split across Shailene's face and her eyes lightened up, the ghosts of her melancholy thoughts leaving her the closer her old friend came. She giggled at his compliment before immediately remarking, "And you better come out here lookin' like a sexier, younger version of Jared Leto!" She had noticed Harry's style of dress at the funeral; it was just as subdued as it was now, but for Shailene, it was an entirely new look altogether. Not something she was familiar with when it came to the boy - no, man - in question. Harry's fashion had been dated and not for his age, if she was being honest, but Shailene had never commented much on it save for the few times his eyes had strayed too long on a clothing item at the mall she knew he didn't own. "No, seriously! This is a look and now we have no choice but to take a selfie!

Barely even a breath later and Shailene was pressing into Harry's side, angling her phone just right after pressing the front lights of her car so that the camera caught onto their faces better. Flash still on, she only gave Harry a quick, teasing chastisement, "C'mon - don't fight this. As long as you're in town and you're with me, I'm flooding my profile with your cute ass and seeing how many DMs I get 'cause someone's choosin'. This is just a reunion pic." She held the screen and a barrage of pictures were taken, though Shailene knew only about three or four would be posted. Before college, she would have never imagined being active on Instagram - let alone being a model on the social media site and getting free samples from various brands so long as she shouted them out. Matthew would have never allowed it; there would've been too many gazes - male ones, in particular - on her. However, somewhere between the impulsive need to change something about herself physically - the purple hair - and the desire for it to be seen - even though she made damn sure to block him on everything - and she was randomly creating an account. One picture turned into another, and once the followers came, the game had changed.

Still in a giggly disposition, Shailene countered, "Too long? Says the guy who totally left a bitch high and dry before prom! Dude, you need to get me updated! When did we decide to give Pete from Fall Out Boy a run for his money?" She winked conspiratorially as she added, "Though you aren't even on the same level with baby boy 'cause you. Look. Amazing." The words all came out in a rush, but the exclamation was genuine when Shailene gestured at Harry's...well, everything. The boy she remembered and the man who sat in her car shared a remarkable set of similarities, but his overall aura - his energy - was different than before. Lighter. And it made something in Shailene ache for the familiarity, but elated at the possibilities as she began to pull out of the haphazard parking spot.


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I K E N A S I OXA M A S I O - H A N S E N
_____ T H EXP R O T E C T O R_____

Outfit: Link Here
Location: En route > Davenport Residence
Dialogue Color ✦ #307D7E
Thought Color ✧ #183E3F



The thing of it was that while the nostalgia that came from seeing some of his favorite childhood spots hit as he drove, it also filled Nas with a discomfort that made him shift in his seat from time to time. Rin Davenport lived on the other side of town, away from him and his family's much smaller home. The diner, though, was in the middle, and so it only granted him a ten minute drive. Ten minutes that seemed to pass him by quicker than he anticipated because before long, he was cruising down a very familiar street with a very familiar, large home that damn near took up half of her side of the block.

Back in the day, Nas had not attended too many of Rin Davenport's parties. It hadn't been his scene, not unless he was really itching for cash and selling in the darkest corner of her home was the only option. He preferred the other house parties with red plastic cups and cheap beer, with beer pong and sweat and grinding with T-Pain busting everyone's eardrums out until a neighbor called the cops about the noise level. He had always been more comfortable there. Here, especially now, Nas wasn't comfortable. He was back to those younger days when it was clear that the only shopping he could do was with coupons, and that was if he found the right ones and didn't just need to get the cheapest option, while peers like Rin and Matthew didn't have to blink at price tags. He had never been bitter at their luck, however, not when Matthew's privilege clearly made him a dick just like the rest of his band of followers. Rin hadn't been like that, not really. Nas hadn't known her much back then, but he had had no reason to dislike her. He didn't have a reason to like her, either.

And yet here I am, he thought wryly, finding a parking spot on the next block. There were cars parked along Rin's block and he saw scattered groups and couples emerging from vehicles, a few of them lingering at their cars to catch up with old friends and others approaching the Davenport residence. Works for me, he decided. It meant that he could take his time, or at least try to take his time in his walk to the house. If he managed to just follow the crowd, when the doors were opened, he could just slip in without any awkward interactions. He could potentially just be another face in a faceless sea of classmates everyone was going to forget about the second they go their separate ways once more.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Nas Amasio-Hansen Character Portrait: Jackson Park Character Portrait: Rin Davenport
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0.00 INK

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ZEKE MASON MOORE
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I can never ever hate, don't know about them,
Got my haters asking, "God please, why him?"
Put in too much work to worry about them.


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Outfit: Click here
Car: Mustang GT 5.0
Location: Hotel -> Devenpourt Home
Dialogue: #9316BC
Thoughts: italic

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Sure, he had missed Mathew' funeral and he really didn't particularly care either as they had never been close. These two used to butt heads constantly, perhaps more intensely than it had been with Nas, while with Nas it had always been playful on Zeke's part. They just happened to be so similar... Aside all of that, Zeke had been planning to go to the cemetery and meet the dude eye on eye... or whatever there was left of him behind. The monster was dead and this was the only respect he would offer - one should respect the dead, right? Sure... he wasn't thrilled by this idea, and although he was often stubborn, Zeke wasn't a real bastard, at least not deep within. Deep within which was covered by all the bling and flashiness that he engulfed himself into for the past years.

Rin had been probably one of the few at the becoming party, who had frequented the circles he had back at school, so she was going to be the most familiar aside Jax. That woman was probably the same as ever - proud and snarky, but it didn't matter. He had returned for his own goals and if playing private investigator was one of them, then he was going to go for it. Nothing was going to stop him from going after the truth that was most likely hidden behind Uncle Andy's sudden death. Nothing.

Waiting for his bestie, Zeke' fingers were playing on the wheel of the car along with the beat echoing out from his vehicle and gaining quite curious stares. He didn't care. He wasn't doing this to gain attention, but he did enjoy pissing people off with his presence. Having picked it up after all that had gone down, he did everything to get out of this noose around his throat. Leaning back, he practically grinned to himself, as he saw Jackson coming down and sat into the car beside him. "Nope," he simply stated and offered a playful wink at his friend, taking off from the spot with a loud and low roar of the car, heading towards Davenport Residence. "But you never know, I can still surprise you," he added, then partially ignored what Jax had just told him.

He didn't want to admit to it, but he had to say it: "Look, dude," the bad boy started, "I wanna say that I am super thankful for you coming in. Even if it just for my sake and... maybe, if you can bring your invisible pet over or... just....," he paused, feeling like his usual self was out of it and rambling, "...stay, okay. I need you." Biting down on his lower lip, Zeke felt like he was heating up. Why was he so nervous to ask of this favor from his best friend? They were family... hopefully. Finding a spare pair of keys to his house, Zeke tossed them over to that handsome fellow beside him and simply said, nearing to their location: "Here. Stop wasting your money and come stay with me. I have one more extra room now." Another request, hoping that he wasn't going over the board. The kind of effect Jax had on him was strange, specially seeing each other in person after such a long time. The usual, overflowing confidence that Zeke generally had was now replaced with soft, purring lion cub.

He noticed the crowd that had already arrived at the location, and he didn't care to turn the music down, but actually turned it up a notch - popular, underground hip-hop blasting out, nor did he care if the recognized him at this day of age. He had matured, yet he had become something else - perhaps better version of himself, perhaps the illusion of what he wished to be. He apologized to Jax: "You are free to punish me later. Sorry." Zeke's demeanor changed quite a bit, but he knew that Jackson would understand in the end. Circling around, he was able to find empty spot near to the household with ease, and went for it, stopping. He knew he had attention seeking entrance and he felt satisfied enough.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Zeke Mason Moore Character Portrait: Harry Stone Character Portrait: Shailene Ekwensi-Hart Character Portrait: Nas Amasio-Hansen Character Portrait: Jared Garcia Character Portrait: Rin Davenport
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S H A I L E N EXE K W E N S I - H A R T
_____ T H EXS U R V I V O R_____

Outfit: Link Here
Location: En route
Dialogue Color ✦ #C8A2C8
Thought Color ✧ #785278



There were still so many questions lingering on the edges of Shailene's mind - where were his parents? did he still talk to them? has he seen them since coming home? why did you leave me? - but the degree of warmth in his explanation stopped her mouth, made her smile even as she drove and listened. Even the way Harry expressed himself through speech was different; not different to the extent that she felt like she was interacting with a completely brand new person, but there was an openness about it she couldn't recall seeing too often when they were younger.

Chuckling at his redirection, Shailene drummed her fingertips on the top of the steering wheel, making a turn past the library that would lead along a long road with nothing but greenery and cable poles with strings high up in the air to connect them. "What's there to say? After graduation, I left, decided that my favorite color oughta be in my hair on a really, really drunken whim that just so happened to go right, and decided to give into the societal vanity derived from social media and even started capitalizing off of it to help pay for school," she explained, though she followed her last point with a playful wink. "Where I still am, by the way. Five year computer science program that's kicking my ass. Don't ask me what comes next 'cause I honestly have not thought that far ahead." She didn't include Matthew, figured it all went without saying. She wasn't shedding no tears at his grave; there was no small memorial in her room or heart anywhere.

Besides, despite how dismissive or overwhelmed by her program she sounded, Shailene loved it. She had always been fascinated with computers, with how they worked and how they could be torn apart and put back together again, how they can be remade. IT work seemed imminent in her future, but she was also pretty sure she could find work anywhere, so she wasn't particularly set on anything just yet. It felt good to study something she genuinely loved in an environment that genuinely loved her and which she can love without hesitation. She wasn't sure what she was going to do when graduation came. "Still, though," she exclaimed, wrapping slender fingers around the steering wheel and flashing Harry a smile. "It's so crazy to see everyone come out after all this time. Can you believe how long it's been since the last time any of us have been to a Rin Davenport party? I remember feeling like shit when I saw those invites go out only to never get one in eighth grade.


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I K E N A S I OXA M A S I O - H A N S E N
_____ T H EXP R O T E C T O R_____

Outfit: Link Here
Location: Davenport Residence
Dialogue Color ✦ #307D7E
Thought Color ✧ #183E3F



In another life, had it been anyone else, Nas would have stopped to appreciate the music. It was more of his style than any of the dubstep foolishness topped with a dollop of that pop craze that made him need five different joints before he could take them, the norm for the parties his former classmates attended. Sure, they might have added a few of the mainstream hip hop tracks, to which he had to admit taking the time to enjoy from time to time, but underground hip hop was actually a bit more of Nas' taste. Yet and still, despite his initial nodding along to the music whose volume had randomly increased just as Nas was crossing the lush lawn, the stop he made to investigate only resulted in a disbelieving, "Son of a bitch..." And Nas continuing on his pursuit of the interior of Rin Davenport's home and the bar that would hopefully supply him with a glass of a really, really strong whiskey.

If he were being honest, Nas knew there was no real reason for the animosity found in his former relationship with Zeke Moore, whom with narrowed eyes he had been able to recognize outside from the small distance between them. At least, there was no real reason other than being two surprisingly similar people, almost too similar. To the point that all they could do in that scenario was clash. They were older now, he supposed. Perhaps it would be different. Nas had to snort derisively at that. Yeah, right, he thought. The only way that would happen was if Zeke didn't actively seek out attention and considering the blast of music that was unnecessary, but definitely announced his arrival, that was asking for the impossible. So, with hands shoved into his pockets, Nas navigated through the foyer, noting Rin as she interacted with guests but doing well to not bring any of her attention to himself. It was probably good manners to greet the host, but they had never been close. Never interacted much save for passing tests back down their row so that everyone received one, or a passing apology when one brushed against the other in a crowded hallway.

One face did, however, give him pause. Out of muscle memory, he had been on his way to where Rin usually had the bar and the drink set-up, exchanging quick pleasantries with a few people he might have called something akin to friends when his eyes fell on a familiar set of shoulders and dark eyes...except he was different. Not too different that Nas didn't recognize him, but enough for something in him to feel as thrown as he sounded as he inquired, "Yoooo...Jared, is that you?"

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Nas Amasio-Hansen Character Portrait: Jared Garcia Character Portrait: Rin Davenport
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JARED
GARCIA

outfit | #3ba636

&

IKENASIO AMASIO-HANSEN
outfits | #307d7e

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Jared had already made quite the impression, even though he had been inside of the residence for only a few minutes. He was happy with himself outwardly but internally, he was unhappy with the person that he have become after being away for so long. His gaze bounced over toward Sutton, who sat there rather quietly, not that he wanted her to talk or anything because he did not really know her all that well but still, wonders why she was so silent. His eyes flashed back over toward Trinity, who had answered his question in typical Trinity fashion. Jared rolled his eyes, still leaned back in his seat with his hands clasped over his lap.

Rin had gotten up to leave once the doorbell rang again and he just scoffed and shrugged his shoulders while leaning up and grasped the champagne bottle around its neck then leaned back again. ”Whatever.” He’d mutter under his breath and took a big swig from the bottle of champagne then dropped it from his lips and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. People were coming in and going out repeatedly and some he recognized and others he didn’t. Jared just continued to stay in his seat and drink directly from the bottle until someone he knew would enter the premises. Of course, as the old saying goes, be careful what you wish for because Jared got it.

It was his brother from another mother that had greeted him upon his entry and his question made Jared raise a slight brow. He stood up so that he didn’t feel so towered over by Nas and walked over toward him, still with the champagne bottle in his hand. ”Yeah, it’s me. What’s up?” He’d ask whenever he went over to stand beside the person that he was the closest with, well besides Shailene, and the person that almost damaged him by continuously giving him drugs. Though, Jared had to share the blame because he did keep going to Nas to feel some type of way besides the way that he was feeling at the time.

”You sounded surprise to see me here. Didn’t think that I’d come or something?” He’d ask, recalling his greeting from a few moments ago as he had a brow raised up slightly toward him. An assortment of emotions swept through Nas all at once: elation that he was seeing a face he had honestly not anticipated though wanted to see, a rush of anger he had never known he had felt until the second Jared spoke, and hurt that he knew for a fact he’d buried damn near four years ago. Still, though Nas was Nas, and though he felt such torrent feelings, he ultimately stuck to the first: elation.

”Um, yeah,” he exhaled on a chuckle, taking the last step that separated them to give his old friend - no, his brother - a side hug, followed by a sharp clap on the back as he took in this new...really new version of Jared. ”Last I checked, you were - shit, where the hell have you been, man? Didn’t even think you’d know about what happened to Matthew, let alone actually come all the way out.” There was that hurt again, this irrational surge of it because after all these years, Jared just finally showed up. The one person he’d been missing - the second person to just abandon him after he was supposed to have been family - and the guy shows up, and it’s not even really to see him. Not to explain why he ran away, not to see Nas. It was for a dead guy neither of them liked. How the hell else did one feel when they came to such a conclusion?

Jared made a small facial expression at the side hug, which he did not return. All that mushy-gushy stuff did not sit right with him anymore. He lost those feelings long ago. He nearly took a small step forward with the clap on his back then looked up toward Nas, composing himself once they broke apart from each other. ”I’ve been here. I’ve been there. Never really stayed anywhere for too long.” He lied through his teeth before he’d shrug at his last statement. Of course, he heard, it posted on everyone’s social media, which he occasionally took sneak peeks of because of nostalgia feels. ”Yeah. Heard it through the grapevines. Why wouldn’t I have come, Nas? I am not that terrible of a person.”

Jared fully responded then just thought about how close him and Nas really could’ve been before he had disappeared without a trace a few years back. He did not really like Matthew after Shailene was taken from him right underneath his nose. That might’ve been Matthew’s plan all along, or so he thought. Speaking of Shailene, he had wondered where she was and if she was going to make an appearance. Jared cannot imagine what she must be going through right about now but felt for her a little bit. Only a little bit, not much.

Here and there? That’s what Jared decided to stick with. Nas wasn’t the most emotive guy on the block; he knew that about himself. On most days, people assumed that he only had one emotion and that was growly. He didn’t think that was the case, but it was whatever. You can’t change people’s minds. But Jared’s blase attitude about literally being probably everywhere but where Nas would have wanted him had him shoot the other guy an incredulous look. Nas didn’t bother mentioning how empty the hug they shared had felt. ”No...nah, man, I wouldn’t say you are,” he said slowly, carefully, unsure about how to navigate this new territory he found himself in with someone he thought would feel a bit more familiar. This didn’t feel familiar; he might as well have been talking to a complete stranger.

”So, what have you been up to? Still in the drug dealing biz?” Jared asked almost a little too loud for anyone that was around them to hear. He had chugged back a few gulps from the champagne bottle again after he had asked. Jared partaking in alcohol reminded Nas of the shots he swore he was having while stuck in this house, but the question made him long for the burn even more. ”No, actually,” he replied, shifting on his feet, composing himself better at the dark cloud that seemed to descend over his thoughts.

Nas had been doing well, he supposed. Being back in Oakhedge had not been exactly pleasant in terms of where his mind had gone, but it was nothing like Jared bringing it up and to the forefront of his mind. He could still picture pale skin in the moonlight, ghostly pale with lips tinged blue and eyes rolled to the back of her head so far that he mostly saw white. Nas blinked back the shudder that threatened to overtake him, gritted his teeth before continuing, ”No, I gave that up a long time ago. Actually, I stopped some time after you left, to be honest. Wasn’t making as much as I was before.” The last part was a bold-faced lie. Seeing Jared giving in to his own needs for the drugs Nas provided had made him take a second look at what he was doing; seeing the way Michelle died scarred him for life. ”Well, that’s a shame. I could really use a buzz right about now.” Jared responded because he wanted to, no he needed to, feel a little bit numb within this moment. He honestly felt some type of way with the way the atmosphere was surrounding him. ”Trust me, no it’s not,” Nas said immediately, hands back in his pockets again. He refused to go back to drugs, at least the hard ones. Never again. With that thought in mind, from his left pocket, he pulled out a pre-wrapped joint, his supply having come in just before he returned to Oakhedge. He liked it better from outside their small town; more possibilities - more healthier, and less you-could-probably-die-cuz-you-don’t-know-what’s-mixed-in-your-weed-like-I-do possibilities. ”There ain’t nothing I sold you back then that this can’t get you just as numb over. I can promise you that.” He told the other guy, extending the stick to him. Nas had a pretty big stash; he had prepared for the trip and knew that some part of him was going to need more than his usual. It was probably a splurge he was going to feel when it was time to go back home, a loss of a random sandwich craving near his job, but it was worth it for this shit town and its shit memories.

Jared’s eyes flashed down toward the pre-wrapped joint and nearly went ballistic. He knew that he could always count on Nas to distribute the good stuff and he hung on to his words before he replied. ”We should go ahead and light it up then, Nas.” He would’ve said bro there normally but right now, things weren’t so normal between them or anybody else for that matter. Too bad that it seems like he was officially done with the drugs. Jared could’ve used it while he was in town. ”You see anything stronger than champagne over there, man?” Nas asked, nodding over to where the rest of the drinks were. ”Never saw you as much of a champagne guy before.” Jared eyes fell upon the bottle of champagne in his hands at his statement then eyed the beverage area to respond toward Nas. ”Uh.. I don’t know, man. I just grabbed the largest thing I saw.” He said then commented on his previous statement. Nas was already chuckling over his words. That sounded about right, about Jared enough for his shoulders to lose a bit of the tension it developed. ”Well, gotta change it up every now and then. Plus, I do not think little Miss Trinity over there would appreciate me getting drunk at her…” His eyes scanned the room before they fell upon Nas again. ”Whatever this is because it damn sure isn’t a party or else, someone would have a lamp shade over their head and dancing on top of the coffee table.”

Jared had managed to get a laugh out over his lips, shaking his head as it felt good to be around Nas. Even though, he wasn’t showing it right now, he did miss Nas but not for just the drugs but for the brotherhood that they had established together. ”Maaaaannn...I don’t - I don’t know what this is either, to be honest,” he admitted and glanced about the room. ”Just looks like a bunch of bored people wanting to see what’ll happen next. Pretty sure they’ve all got a running bet over which one of us gonna keel over and die next.” Even before, when Nas did attend a Davenport party, things had been livelier, worth the awe and admiration that Rin managed to derive from their peers. This...this was a completely different thing entirely. And though he felt a little bit more at ease at the moment, there was still something nigging him at the back of his neck, as if something could happen at any minute.

Jared laughed a bit too hard at his comment about the people that was around them. Rin was usually a good hostess but today, it seemed like she wasn’t up for the task, given the circumstances. Jared looked around before he had leaned over and rested his face on Nas’ shoulder before he tapped him on the shoulder in the process. ”You know, I don’t think there’s anyone in the back. We could go ahead and smoke that joint that was mentioned earlier.” His words were almost teasing like but he really did mean it. This place was dead, for sure, along with some of the people that were there too. If it had been a few years earlier, the party and house would be lit but now, crickets would have a parade in this place. It sucked. He lifted his head up just a little then rested the palm of his hand on Nas’ shoulder and looked at him. ”Come on, it’d be like old times.” Jared was practically begging and pleading at this point. It was his usual act way back whenever he used to do the hard drugs, which he received from Nas.

Nas chuckled again, tucking the joint between a few of his fingers to hide it from unwanted eyes. He probably should have recognized better Jared’s need to be supplied for what it is, but it was that familiarity he had been looking for that Nas ultimately succumbed to. He’d never go back to anything harder, anything stronger and more liable to kill. He didn’t have the heart. But this right here - and with an old friend, at that? Sign him the fuck up. ”Yeah, sure,” he exclaimed. ”Lead the way, man.” It did not take Jared a second to lift his foot up off of the ground and head towards the back, his free hand waving for Nas to follow him.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Zeke Mason Moore Character Portrait: Harry Stone Character Portrait: Shailene Ekwensi-Hart Character Portrait: Nas Amasio-Hansen Character Portrait: Jackson Park Character Portrait: Rin Davenport
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ZEKE MASON MOORE
Image
I can never ever hate, don't know about them,
Got my haters asking, "God please, why him?"
Put in too much work to worry about them.


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Outfit: Click here
Car: Mustang GT 5.0
Location: Devenpourt Home
Dialogue: #9316BC
Thoughts: italic

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"Yeah?" the tall man inquired at Rin's question, "Sounds like you could become my ally while staying around. There is something I wanted to ask from you, though..." Yet, both of them were interrupted by two figures from the past.

His face remained the same, and although Zeke had been craving some alcohol recently, he had a big issue - a dilemma - to drink or not, but the moment he suddenly saw Harry and Shailene in front of him, all the emotions he once had in the past flushed over him, and he just felt the need to drown all over again. If he was going to cause some problems later that evening and night, he would gladly take that role of an asshole upon himself. It wasn't far to reach, anyhow. Seeing Harry made him think of Toby all over again, and it made Zeke feel sick... had he really fallen in love with Toby back at college only because that one reminded him of Harry so much? Zeke didn't know, but all he knew was that he was alive and he was unable to save Toby from drowning.

A sudden skin ship from Shailene, but it had escaped as fast as it had appeared; Zeke was just nodding to the two, eyeing Harry with slight curiosity. "Yo," was the only greeting that came from him, from Zeke who was leaning against the bookshelf with a cool, smug aura coming from the Moore heir. But after the words from Rin about Matthew, Zeke drew his dark eyes at Shailene, a rush of sudden emotion of wanting to escape this place flowing over him. He could've easily just do that, but Jax was here and he... wasn't going to leave without at least seeing Nas face to face once.

"I've already got my own," Zeke finally spoke and reached into his fashionable coat' inner pocket and pulled out silver flask, and offering a smug grin, which was more on the side of being playful rather than cocky, "Blue Label at your service," he added, offering a sexy raise of his left eyebrow. Opening the flash, he took a big swing of it, letting tis expensive taste set on his tongue, then burning up all his insides for a moment. It was a bad thing for him to drink, having been sober with difficulty for couple of months then. "Ah, fuck it... Jax can drive later, or I'll just take a cab," he thought to himself, "besides I doubt anyone else but him knows about my demons."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Zeke Mason Moore Character Portrait: Harry Stone Character Portrait: Shailene Ekwensi-Hart Character Portrait: Nas Amasio-Hansen Character Portrait: Jared Garcia Character Portrait: Jackson Park
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Character Portrait: Hale Soygazi Hale Soygazi says,
 “ hi ”