Announcements: Universe of the Month! » Finding Universes to Join (and making yours more visible!) » Guide To Universes On RPG » Starter Locations & Prompts for Newbies » RPG Chat β€” the official app » USERNAME CHANGES » Suggestions & Requests: THE MASTER THREAD »

Latest Discussions: Presuppositionalism » Aphantasia » Skill Trees - Good, Bad & Ugly » In-Game Gods & Gameplay Impact » Cunningham's Law » The Tribalism of Religion » Lost Library » Game Theory » The Hidden Void » Removing CS From an Indy Universe : Solution » On the Matter of New Players and Orphaned Plays » STOP BLAMING US FOR RPG BEING SLOW! » Polytheism » The Game of Life » Just War » Science and Philosophy » The Bible as Literature » Humans in the MV. Questions and thoughts. » Surviving the post-holiday apocalypse. » SL: 1097 Bestiary of Monsters »

Players Wanted: Looking for roleplayers » A Fairytale World in Need of Heroes & Villains! » Are You a Crime Addict? » Wuxia RP » Looking for roleplayers » New Realistic Roleplay - Small World Life Ω©( Β΄ο½₯шο½₯)و » Mentors Wanted » MV Recruiting Drive: sci-fi players wanted! » Veilbrand: The Revolution » Gonna do this anyway. » Looking for Kamen Rider Players » Elysium » Looking for roleplayers for a dystopian past! » Revamping Fantasy Adventure RPG, need new players » Here, At the End of the World (supernatural mystery drama) » Seeking Role Players for a TOG Based RP » so I made a Stranger Things RP idk why not come join » LFP - New Roleplay » Gifted/Mutant individuals escaping the gov » Spaceship Zero! A retro horror sci fi RP with rayguns :D »

0
followers
follow

Daniel Driscoll

im so close 2 done pls

0 · 190 views · located in Westcreek

a character in “Westcreek”, originally authored by Ξ•pΞΉmetheus, as played by RolePlayGateway

Description

Image
DanielDriscoll
β–‚β–‚β–‚β–‚β–‚β–‚β–‚β–‚β–‚β–‚β–‚β–‚β–‚β–‚β–‚β–‚β–‚β–‚β–‚β–‚β–‚β–‚β–‚β–‚β–‚β–‚β–‚β–‚β–‚β–‚β–‚β–‚β–‚β–‚β–‚β–‚
BECAUSE I'M ONLY GAY FOR YOU AS A FRIEND WHO WOULD STILL LIKE TO FIND A GIRL


xxxxxxxxxx
xxxxxxxxxxxxx
xxxxxxxxxxxxx
xxxxxxxxxxxxx
xxxxxxxxxxx
xxxxxxxxxxxxx
xxxxxxxxxxxxx
xxxxxxxxxxxxx
xxxxxxxxxxxxx
xxxxxxxxxxxxx
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
xxγ€ŒNAME」
Daniel A. Driscoll
x
x...γ€ŒALIAS」
x..Dan ; Danny
x
xx..γ€ŒAGE」
x.xx....27
x
γ€ŒOCCUPATION」
........Carpenter
x
x....γ€ŒEYES」
x........Brown
x
x..γ€ŒHEIGHT」
x.xx....6'2"
xxγ€ŒORIGIN」
........American
x
x.γ€ŒGENDER」
...........Male
x
.γ€ŒSEXUALITY」
......Heterosexual
x
....γ€ŒSPECIES」
........Nephilim
x
x.....γ€ŒHAIR」
...........Brown
x
x..γ€ŒWEIGHT」
...........181 lbs





━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━


    Image
                  ( QUIRKS *! )

                  Totally and unashamedly steals his own son's ap-
                  ple juice boxes. Drinks them all the time. β—˜ Plays
                  fucking Candy Crush when he has to sit and wait
                  for whatever reason, he's so disgusting. β—˜ Can't
                  play the guitar with a pick. It always slips out of
                  his fingers. β—˜ There are certain nights where he'll
                  make his kid mac and cheese and himself an ov-
                  enbaked trout stuffed with thyme and lemon, and
                  other nights where he'll make his kid gourmet ch-
                  icken nuggets and sweet potato fries tossed with
                  truffle oil and will make, like, kraft dinner for hi-
                  mself. β—˜ Loses drill bits, like, all the time. β—˜
                  __( LIKES *! )

                  Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipisci
                  Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipisci
                  Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipisci
                  Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipisci
                  ice cream idk. soft serve. coOKING LMAO LAME
                  playing guitar, acoustic. helping ppl. animated
                  movies sssshhhhh. HIS CHILD OBVS. lemons
                  lager. pale ales.
                  Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipisci
                  Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipisci
                  Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipisci
                  β—˜β—˜β—˜β—˜β—˜β—˜β—˜β—˜β—˜
                  __( DISLIKES *! )

                  Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipisci
                  Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipisci
                  Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipisci
                  Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipisci
                  talking abt the past. hIMSELF AW. stout. not hav
                  ing any friends lmfao.
                  Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipisci
                  Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipisci
                  Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipisci
                  i use this: β—˜ as a separator, but you can use w/e
                  you want really. idk. this is hard not 2 break tbh
                  β—˜β—˜β—˜β—˜β—˜β—˜β—˜β—˜β—˜

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━


Imageβ–Œβ–ˆ
β–Œβ–ˆ
β–Œβ–ˆ
β–Œβ–ˆ
β–Œβ–ˆ
β–Œβ–ˆ
β–Œβ–ˆ
β–Œβ–ˆ
β–Œβ–ˆ
β–Œβ–ˆ
β–Œβ–ˆ
β–Œβ–ˆ
β–Œβ–ˆ
β–Œβ–ˆ
β–Œβ–ˆ
β–Œβ–ˆ
β–Œβ–ˆ
β–Œβ–ˆ
β–Œβ–ˆ
β–Œβ–ˆ
β–Œβ–ˆ
β–Œβ–ˆ
β–Œβ–ˆ
β–Œβ–ˆ
β–Œβ–ˆ
β–Œβ–ˆ
β–Œβ–ˆ
β–Œβ–ˆ
β–Œβ–ˆ
β–Œβ–ˆ
β–Œβ–ˆ
β—’PERSONALITY Β°


β—’ Daniel is exactly the sort of boy you can find wholesale in the weird sort of in between areas of the United Statesβ€” not quite rural, not quite suburbia. He's not southern, but he's not northern; not eastern nor western. The boys and girls and variations thereupon who hail from this unique area are strange sorts of creatures, at home with no one but themselves or anywhere but there. They're ghosts. There are no stereotypes to their name, no misconceptions about them, no accents to mock. People otherwise forget they exist. They carve out their homes, their niches, only miles from where they were born and raised. Some make it outβ€” find themselves in a university in some metropolitan areaβ€” but most don't. They don't belong anywhere but where they are.

( β™š )

β—’ Daniel is the kind of man who was never supposed to make it out of his hometown. The sort with an almost afterimage trailing behind him, a phantom image of him doing all the things he's supposed to be doing: waving at a neighbor as he walks out at 7 A.M. sharp every morning to collect his mail, tossing his dog a bone with a smile while he grills hamburgers on the barbecue complete with a grilling apron and everything, tipping his cap at every familiar face he passes in the street. In towns where the population never quite breaches the five hundred mark, people are grown to be the sameβ€” friendly, with no enemies to their name.

β—’ For the most part, Daniel follows through on his shadow mirage's promise. He is exactly the kind of man who grills hamburgers on a barbecue, exactly the kind of man who lends a hand at every opportunity to a struggling neighbor (he's been changing the light bulbs for old Marg down the street going on a year now), exactly the kind of man who waves at his neighbor when he gets his mail, says hello to every person he passes in the aisles of the grocery store. But there is something strange about his familiarity, and it is the lack of closeness that accompanies it. For all they see of Daniel Driscoll, few can say they actually know the young man, know him intimately and well.

β—’ The reason is this: he greets his acquaintances, a bright smile and a charming greeting, asks them what he can do for them in an odd sort of American accent (neither southern nor midwestern, but something distinctly in the general region), helps wherever he can, and then he's on his way, shuttering himself behind the curtains of his small generic home on a generic residential street. Sure, plenty of people recognize the name, the easygoing grin, the nice young man known for offering his service for free when he can. But there's hardly a soul in Westcreek who's seen him in a personal setting, can say for certain when his birthday is, what his hobbies are, what he can do besides the work he can do with his hands. And he quite likes it that way. Well, not really. But he convinces himself he likes it that way, and that's close enough. Because he's afraid, cursing his general existence, his presence, all that he is. But not what he's done. Who he is and the actions he takes are two very different things, and maybe that's why he's so willing to help wherever and whenever he can. Maybe he's trying to make up for himself, ease himself of the constant and irritating guilt, shoving good will down his own throat to regurgitate self-loathing, relieve himself of the expanding presence of it so he can breathe for a second, two seconds at a time. Maybe. Maybe it's just the way he was raised.


━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━


    Image
                    ( STRENGTHS *! )

                    Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod te
                    Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod te
                    Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod te
                    Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod te
                    Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod te
                    Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod te
                    Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod te
                    Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod te
                    Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod te
                    Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod te
                    Same as before, use the above lines as reference for how long your lines
                    can be. don't exceed 11 lines. use this for personality stuff and for powers
                    __( FLAWS *! )

                    Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod te
                    Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod te
                    Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod te
                    Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod te
                    Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod te
                    Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod te
                    Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod te
                    Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod te
                    Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod te
                    So for this just name a flaw or strength, bold it, then describe it more in
                    detail. keep your characters balanced, with an even-ish number of strengths
                    and flaws in both powers and also in personality.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━


Imageβ–ˆ β–Œ
β–ˆ β–Œ
β–ˆ β–Œ
β–ˆ β–Œ
β–ˆ β–Œ
β–ˆ β–Œ
β–ˆ β–Œ
β–ˆ β–Œ
β–ˆ β–Œ
β–ˆ β–Œ
β–ˆ β–Œ
β–ˆ β–Œ
β–ˆ β–Œ
β–ˆ β–Œ
β–ˆ β–Œ
β–ˆ β–Œ
β–ˆ β–Œ
β–ˆ β–Œ
β–ˆ β–Œ
β–ˆ β–Œ
β–ˆ β–Œ
β–ˆ β–Œ
β–ˆ β–Œ
β–ˆ β–Œ
β–ˆ β–Œ
β–ˆ β–Œ
β–ˆ β–Œ
β–ˆ β–Œ
β–ˆ β–Œ
β–ˆ β–Œ
β–ˆ β–Œ
β–ˆ β–Œ
β–ˆ β–Œ
β–ˆ β–Œ
β–ˆ β–Œ
β–ˆ β–Œ
β–ˆ β–Œ
β—’BIOGRAPHY Β°


β—’ He never intended to leave his town. He led a fulfilling life there; he was satisfied. No. He was happy. He grew up with his father (no mother. His dad told him she had died when he was too young to remember), under the wing of the town's master carpenter and general handyman. He knew how to build a cabinet before he knew how to ride a bike. When he was old enough to make a decision on his future, there was hardly a decision to be made. He knew what he wanted to do. It was the only thing he could do. He decided he'd attend the local community college at his father's insistence, despite the fact that Daniel himself didn't see much point in it. He was going to work alongside his father, someday take over the business; you didn't need a degree for that. But he took his father's advice, pursued a degree in architecture, and spent his years there, classes at night, working jobs with his father during the day. He was a hard workerβ€” diligent and steady, never cocky or dismissive. He grew up fast. He had to. He had a family, a proper one of his own, that he needed to care for.

( β™š )

β—’ They met as children. This is nothing surprising. In a town as small as the one he grew up in, everyone came to know everybody relatively quickly. They weren't friends until middle school, and they didn't start dating until high school. But truth be told, even before that he knew he loved her. He knew in the way a middle schooler knows, In dizzying summer afternoons and bone chillingly cold winter days spent skating together on the freshly frozen surface of the local lake. She would turn to smile at him, long blonde gleaming in the cruel white light of the winter sun, and his whole world would slow down. He loved her. His heart beat in a certain rhythm when he thought of that fact, repeating the phrase in its own tongue. He loved her and he wanted to spend his whole life by her side.

β—’ She got pregnant at eighteen, and they were the talk of the town for a week before the gossiping population found something new to focus on. There wasn't much drama there anyway. He was happy (so happy, so so happy; he doesn't even remember what he did when she told him, but she said, later, that he had cried), and their parents were nothing but supportive. She took online classes while he worked and went to night classes and they made it work. He loved her, beat the steady rhythm of his heart, every day when he would wake up and see her face, gentle and ethereal in her sleep, every day when he came back from school and she was waiting for him the arm chair in the living room, brow furrowed as she concentrated on a book, so intently focused on the words she hardly ever noticed when he came in through the front door. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.

( β™š )

β—’ The rest of his life was cut short. The rest of her life, actually, but it may as well have been his. Aquaplaning, they told him later, like that would mean something to him. What did it matter how she went? She was gone. He spent six months going through the motions. His inlaws took care of Ben while Daniel was at work, and Daniel reclaimed the four year old when he returned home. The kid wouldn't stop asking where his mother was. Daniel hid every picture of her in the attic. They came for him eventually. Had spent years trying to track him down they said. And they told him what he was. And what that meant. What that meant he would do to the people he loved. What he had done. Daniel politely excused himself, phoned his father (who confirmed the story. His mother? Not actually dead, apparently) and proceeded to break every single fucking mirror in the house. Ben cried in the background. Daniel held him close to his chest, knuckles sliced and red, bleeding onto the boy's new shirt. He went with the stoic men after that, no fight, no fuss. Didn't say goodbye to anyone. He's a menace, a ticking time bomb, and he knows it. He hates himself. And he hates himself even more because every time he looks into his son's face, he has to live knowing that he's damned the kid.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━


    Image
                  ( OOC *! )

                  FACE CLAIM: ur FC
                  HEX CODE: ur speaking hex
                  PORTRAYED BY: ur username
                  CS CREATED BY: Epimetheus
                  TIME ZONE: when u on fam
                  u can write shit here if u rlly
                  want lmao
                  _______( ASSOCIATED *! )
                  ..words and phrases

                  Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipisci
                  Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipisci
                  Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipisci
                  Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipisci
                  Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipisci
                  Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipisci
                  Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipisci
                  Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipisci
                  just use this space for like word spam, short ph-
                  rases or links to pictures or quotes that remind
                  you of your character. Have fun with it, they can
                  be silly.
                  _________( MISC *! )

                  Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipisci
                  Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipisci
                  Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipisci
                  Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipisci
                  Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipisci
                  Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipisci
                  Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipisci
                  Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipisci
                  Use this section for miscellaneous information abt
                  your character that doesn't quite fit anywhere else
                  these sections don't have to be a full eleven lines,
                  make them as short as you need.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

So begins...

Daniel Driscoll's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Raleigh Lanster Character Portrait: YΕ« Maeda Character Portrait: Belle Tarkani Character Portrait: Olivia Summers Character Portrait: Valerius Cinna Character Portrait: Tallulah Lum Character Portrait: Maxwell Kelly Character Portrait: Lucas Silva Character Portrait: Helena Grimm Character Portrait: Quirinus Avery Character Portrait: Valerius Chevalier Character Portrait: Willa Haywood Character Portrait: Saira Zahariev Character Portrait: Nico Matsumoto Character Portrait: Hinata Shimizu Character Portrait: Daniel Driscoll Character Portrait: CΓ©cile Valovoi
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Verix
Image
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x

anImage
. Thanks Epi for writing the starting post!
xx
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x

ACT ONE : PART ONE : INTRODUCTION
LOCATION: MAINSTREET
TIME: 6:30PM


Summers in Westcreek were nothing short of exceptional. In general, the city's climate was all around lovely, cool winters and warm summers, a generally moderate climate. But it was the summers, really, that were something else. And it was because of evenings.

When the sun began to dip beneath the horizon, it transformed the sky into a canvas, bold streaks of color staining it, creating a view that could only be called art. It was generally acknowledged that this was the best time of day to be out and about, the best of hours to be caught walking the city streets.Today was something of a unique occasion, though, and on this particular evening, you'd be hard pressed to find a citizen of Westcreek not out in the streets. There was a reason for this, and it was called the Festival of Life, an annual occurrence that called for the celebration of the original founding of the city of Westcreek. And the event was something to behold. It had all the ambiance and staples of any small town suburban fairs-- portable rides that no one felt quite safe riding but always did anyway, game stalls everyone knew was rigged but still coughed up money to play, stands for local shop owners to try and sell some wares, even the exact sort of festival food that inevitably led to an upset stomach the next day but was still widely eaten-- but was somehow grander. Almost larger than life. By all accounts, it should have been a spectacularly fun event. However, there was always, unfailingly, a vague sense of discomfort and tension hanging heavy in the air the night of.

The event wasn't mandatory, for heaven's sake, no the mayor would never want to force anybody to do anything they didn't want to do. But everyone knew it might as well have been. They'd all heard stories of the people who decided to chance it, who decided to spit on the foundation of the institution, and the stories never ended well. It was almost insulting, in a sense. Forced to celebrate what began their imprisonment? Sat down and force fed pleasantries and lies, a false history shoved down their throats that they'd have to regurgitate later on? And yet, they all attended. And it was fun. It was hard to take that away from it. The city council never went anything but all out on the annual affair. Children shrieked as they ran through the fairgrounds, holding their cotton candies high and begging their parents for another go on the vomit inducing spinning machine. The neon glow of the rides and games lent a cool and breathable atmosphere to the place Westcreek only saw a few times a year. It was fun. That's exactly what people would respond with the next day when they were asked about how their night went. With a heavy heart, a tense smile, "It was fun."