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Silas Davison-Winn

The drugs just make me reset. (wip)

0 · 339 views · located in Puget Sound, Washington

a character in “West Coast Smoker”, as played by Burn One Down

Description

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silas benjamin davison-winn
bennie or si are his most common nicknames, but silas is pretty much the go-to when calling
for him.
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male
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twenty-one years old
old enough to bleed, old enough to breed, old enough to crack a brick in your teeth while you
sleep. (actually, all twenty one means to si is that he's finally old enough to buy his own booze)
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bisexual
says he can't limit himself to half the world's pleasures.
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pro-drug, pro-slavery
being an addict, criminalizing drugs would make life not only inconvenient but downright
difficult for silas, so he happily tosses his hand in with the people who support drugs, plus his
job is based around drugs and a company/family who presides over the business of selling
them. his view on slavery is much more passive; he's never really known any slaves for more
than a few moments and their lives haven't really crossed his path much. while he feels there
might be something a little wrong with treating human beings like that, he figures if something
was really wrong with it, someone would have spoken up and changed it by now. he keeps his
head low in politics for the most part, though, he doesn't really feel it's his place.
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gentle is usually the first word that comes to mind when describing silas. he's a kind young
man who is incredibly empathetic. while quiet, he is also quick to speak up for the issues he
really truly feels something for and he never hesitates to cut his own happiness for that of
others. silas is endlessly intuitive, and very good at reading people, but also very prone to
becoming far too attached to them in the end. trusting too easy, and falling in love easier,
silas has a bleeding heart tendency that nothing short of shoots him in the foot on the regular.
very good at putting on a sweet face, he lives by the 'if i've got nothing to lose, then i'll give
myself up to everyone else who deserves it' mentality, which more often gets him hurt than
helps his cause. he's also prone to bottling emotions and holding a grudge, as well as giving
too much of himself away. perhaps it's his masochistic tendencies or just that he doesn't
really feel as though he has any worth. it's not a pretty thing, and in the end it usually writes
his downfall, but if there's one thing silas is truthful with himself about, it's his low self esteem.
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coming soon

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i will likely update this section as it becomes relevant

So begins...

Silas Davison-Winn's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Alexandria Parker Character Portrait: Luca Goodwin Character Portrait: Caleb Jackson Character Portrait: Silas Davison-Winn Character Portrait: Basil Daedal Character Portrait: Lillina Stephenson
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west coast smoker
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may brings with it dark stormclouds of pure steel wool that stick to the grey sky
like lint on a sweater. they hang around, close to puget sound and thicker in the
surrounding hills, threatening rain but bringing nothing but the smell of it with
them. a pod of orca swims just off the docks of the loneburough manor, dark
and shielded by a gossamer of mist from their blowholes they slide through the 
water like a part of it. the overcast skies mean very little to the residents of the
manor, seeing as the newest slave acquisition is arriving, which means for the 
slaves another mouth to feed and another life to watch tattered to pieces before
it's old enough to really live, and it means to the heir of the daedal house some-
thing quite different. it means the beginning of the process of freeing slaves and
maybe changing the world. that might be ambitious, but puget sound has been
known for its ability to make dreams come true, after all, and if nothing else the
orca are a good sign. 
the largest bull slips handily into the water as he follows the matriarch under, a
boat working its way up river as a very small patch of sun breaks through the 
looming grey stormclouds. this is the beginning of something quite different.
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luca goodwin;;
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the newest acquisition sets his bags at the foot of the lower bunk bed furthest
from the door and closest to the window. he has very little in his bags aside
from makeup and revealing clothing given to him by his last master. he regards
all that with something akin to disgust but takes it with him anyway because a
man in his situation cannot and will not let go of the few things he does have
to his name. not that it particularly matters, after all, he himself is little more
than property at this point and pretending to be anything else is next to
useless this far in. his haughtiness might remain, but luca will always be the
first to admit that his soul is broken; slavery is no place for a highborn man
and even less a place for him. but he has somehow managed to keep going
and that's what's brought him here, finally free of his mark as a bedslave and
perhaps just one step closer to being a freed man. one can only hope at least.
but hope is rather worthless, he has to remind himself, at least to men like him.
luca sits on the bed and waits in the empty room, awaiting orders or requests,
some direction. it's become his default at this point, waiting, patient.
silas davison-winn;;
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somehow, silas has found himself not only at loneburough manor but without
anything to fix or work on, which is a rare enough occurrence on its own, but
also with a full pack of cigarettes in his back pocket and a stash in his jacket
pocket. the only logical path from both those things is making his way down
the daedal property to the docks, at least in his mind, where he picks through
the rushes and cattails lining the edge of the dock to sit with his legs swinging
over the edge. as he lights a cigarette between his teeth he notes the pod of
orca not far offshore, and for a long moment his eyes catch on the rainbows
that their blowholes spatter when they give off mist every time they come up
for air. silas feels hunger gnaw at the corner of his stomach but ignores it; the
cigarette is more important, and beyond that, there's the weed in his pocket.
it's not exactly what he'd like to be doing, but si is more than aware that doing
coke at work is frowned upon in most places, even when it's legal. pot, on the
other hand, he can definitely write that off as just another way to get through
the day. at least he hopes so. the feeling of being sober is getting to him. and
anything to escape it is good in his books. holding the cigarette between his
teeth, silas pulls his glass pipe and stash out of his pocket and starts loading
a bowl, eyes still distantly on the orca, swimming through the reflections of
stormclouds on the sound.