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Nico Matsumoto

Like most misery it started with apparent happiness.

0 · 163 views · located in Westcreek

a character in “Westcreek”, originally authored by maccotango, as played by RolePlayGateway

Description

โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”
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โœ Image
- - - - - - - - - - - โ”โ”โ”โ” - I SPENT TODAY IN REGRETS AND THREW EVERYTHING AWAY.
- - - - - -WHATโ€™S LEFT BEHIND, ALL THE TIME, IS THE ME, UNABLE TO CHANGE.

LOLโ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ” โ—Š โ—Š โ—Š
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      โ—ŠหŸ โ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆ NAMEโ‹ฎ XX NICO MATSUMOTO
      โ—ŠหŸ โ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆ NICKNAMEโ‹ฎ XX NICO, NICK
      โ—ŠหŸ โ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆ AGEโ‹ฎ XX TWENTY-TWO
      โ—ŠหŸ โ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆ RACEโ‹ฎ XX THE SYLPH
      โ—ŠหŸ โ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆ JOBโ‹ฎ XX STORE CLERK AT STATIONERY STORE
      โ—ŠหŸ โ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆ GENDERโ‹ฎ XX MALE
      โ—ŠหŸ โ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆ SEXUALITYโ‹ฎ XX BISEXUAL ; BIROMANTIC


      ๏น™ โ™” ๏นš


      โ—ŠหŸ โ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆ EYE COLORโ‹ฎ XX DARK GRAY
      โ—ŠหŸ โ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆ HAIR COLORโ‹ฎ XX BROWN
      โ—ŠหŸ โ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆ HEIGHTโ‹ฎ XX 5'11"
      โ—ŠหŸ โ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆ WEIGHTโ‹ฎ XX 30 LBS


โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”
WORDSWORDSWORDSโ™” ใ€‚I FORGET ALL THE PAINFUL THINGS Image
WORWODSWORDSโ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”

Image๏ผฐ๏ผฅ๏ผฒ๏ผณ๏ผฏ๏ผฎ๏ผก๏ผฌ๏ผฉ๏ผด๏ผน โœ

Quiet words leave Nico's lips, his hesitance evident in every dip of his voice and stress of each syllable. The very air around him seems to still. With measured movements, he thinks and slowly considers what to do next. It's rare to see any certainty in the brunette - reluctance seems to be a constant weight on his shoulders. Once the spotlight is off him, he only sighs in relief before relinquishing the stage, content in his role as an audience. Like the softest spring breeze, the sylph would be happy to simply be felt with only the slightest of acknowledgements.

Nico loathes his own passive take on life, but fears change and pressure. Responsibility feels like a noose that threatens to choke him, and disappointment would be the poison to finish him off. He seeks the approval of others, often to the detriment of his own happiness, and chooses to avoid confrontation at all costs. Words like "pushover" and "pacifist" are often thrown around in his presence, but Nico knows the truth; he hides behind others so that he doesn't have to look at himself. He uses others' desires as a shield so if he ever finds himself unhappy, he can put the blame on them.

The shackles that bind him to Westcreek are more comforting than confining. With his fear of change comes fear of the unknown. Nico rarely desires more. And if he does, he reminds himself to be content with what he has. He's as stagnant as Westcreek itself, only expressing his passion in the solitude of his own room. With pale fingers tinted with color, he paints his dreams and frustrations on paper using a medium as fluid as himself. He keeps these works hidden like his aspirations, lacking the self-confidence to tell others.

He hates himself, but refuses to confess where others might hear. So he continues to feign ignorance, playing the role of a typical sylph; perpetually lost in his daydreams, his feet rare to touch the ground. Where others of his kind might be building castles in the air, he simply pretends to do so, his disbelief in his abilities tainting what little aspirations he has.


โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”
WORDSWORDSImage Image THOSE BLUE WORDS COME SPILLING OUT โ™š
WORWODSWORDSWORDSWORDSWORDSโ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”
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xx โ˜†๏น—๏ผฌ๏ผฉ๏ผซ๏ผฅ๏ผณ

wisteria, or flowers in general โ‹† breezy days โ‹† admiring storms from the comfort of his room โ‹† anime and manga โ‹† western cartoons and comics โ‹† watercolors โ‹† cooking and baking โ‹† painting โ‹† being the only one awake in his house at 3am โ‹† good movies - especially the ones that make him cry โ‹† caffeine, but particularly coffee โ‹† watching raindrops hit glass โ‹† driving aimlessly โ‹† gardening โ‹† the scent of freshly cut grass โ‹† private conversations โ‹† the internet


xx โ˜…๏น—๏ผค๏ผฉ๏ผณ๏ผฌ๏ผฉ๏ผซ๏ผฅ๏ผณ

running errands โ‹† forced social interaction โ‹† phone calls โ‹† scraping sounds โ‹† being "seenzoned" โ‹† sorting the trash โ‹† beer and most forms of alcohol โ‹† the fact he cries easily โ‹† loud noises โ‹† arguments and confrontation โ‹† the scent of anything burnt โ‹† tornadoes and strong winds in general โ‹† pulling at loose thread โ‹† weeds โ‹† christmas with all the frenzy surrounding it โ‹† half-assed gifts (though he'll never tell you) โ‹† running โ‹† floating without realizing
โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”
WORDWORSโ€ THE END OF A DISTANT SPRING Image Image Image
wordsโ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”

Imageโœ ๏ผฑ๏ผต๏ผฉ๏ผฒ๏ผซ๏ผณ | ๏ผจ๏ผก๏ผข๏ผฉ๏ผด๏ผณ

stays up until 4am doing weeb shit โ˜† cried at toy story 4 โ˜† owns an IA figure โ˜† bakes when stressed โ˜† has never raised his voice at anyone โ˜† only goes outside for work โ˜† doesn't dip his fries in ketchup โ˜† feels squeamish eating sashimi or sushi, but likes it still โ˜† would definitely be a NEET without his dad's intervention โ˜† fluent in meme โ˜† his room is messy, but he always knows where everything is

โœ๏ผด๏ผก๏ผฌ๏ผฅ๏ผฎ๏ผด๏ผณ | ๏ผณ๏ผด๏ผฒ๏ผฅ๏ผฎ๏ผง๏ผด๏ผจ๏ผณ

`โ—‡ STRONG COLOR SENSE ; Nico possesses good eye for aesthetics in general, but it shines the most in his color choices.
`โ—‡ LISTENING EAR ; While he may not be the best at giving any sort of advice, the Sylph can hear out any vents or frustrations.
`โ—‡ WHISPERS OF THE WIND ; Can control air to the point of flight, but struggles with larger phenomena.
`โ—‡ HIPSTER WEABOO ; Encyclopedic knowledge of underrated anime and manga, as well as graphic novels and cartoons.


โœ๏ผฆ๏ผฌ๏ผก๏ผท๏ผณ | ๏ผท๏ผฅ๏ผก๏ผซ๏ผฎ๏ผฅ๏ผณ๏ผณ๏ผฅ๏ผณ

`โ—‡ NEEDS A FRIEND ; Nico would not be able to function in normal society without someone guiding the way.
`โ—‡ EXPECT THE WORST ; With his past experiences with people, he's hidden into himself and is afraid of meeting others.
`โ—‡ YES OR NO ; Decisions do not come easy, and he often needs several opinions before reaching a conclusion.
`โ—‡ BEAUTIFUL MESS ; Good luck trying to find anything in Nico's room. You're better off asking him personally.


โœ ๏ผฆ๏ผฅ๏ผก๏ผฒ๏ผณ

`โ—‡ FALLING BEHIND ; Whether in life, academics or anything else, the thought of being abandoned because he couldn't keep up paralyzes him.
`โ—‡ TORNADOES ; Whether his dad was serious or joking is still up in the air; Nico is not inclined to find out.
`โ—‡ CONSTANCY OF CHANGE ; It scares him that one day, everything he knows may become completely foreign to him.

โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”
WORDWORSImage Image I DESERT THEM ALL AND BEGIN WALKING โœฟ
WORDSWORDSWORDORWORDSโ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”

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Imagexxx๏ผจ๏ผฉ๏ผณ๏ผด๏ผฏ๏ผฒ๏ผนโœ—

Whenever Nico asked where his mother was, his father would answer 'gone with the wind', a wistful smile on his face. As he grew, the answer changed into 'her alter ego's Dorothy'. To this day, the Sylph remains uncertain if she's still alive somewhere or passed away; all he knows is that his father continues to love her immensely, apparent in her numerous photographs on their home's walls. If one were to look through the viewfinder at the moment it was taken, then they would see it returned in equal measure. His father loved her and the life outside, but lost both to raise his cherished son.

The brunette clung to his father; he openly wept the first day he was left at school. Tears would be a frequent part of his childhood, and he'd learn to fear people as a result of his interactions in class. He still vividly remembers the day he found himself atop city hall's roof, forced to go outside on a windy day during PE. Or the day after that, where he became the butt of jokes and the cruel words kids release unthinkingly.

Where others eventually learnt to cope, Nico hid away from Westcreek. He forced himself to go through the motions until he graduated, but eventually caved and retreated into his room. Technology's a wonderful thing, and he could get everything he needed without leaving his cave's comfort. It's where he gained an interest in watercolors, when he simply fell for its fickle nature and soft atmosphere.

It took plenty of time and effort, but his father eventually coerced him to seek help. With repeated sessions, he could finally go outside without breaking down. He still struggles, but now he can sometimes look at the mirror and say 'I'm okay.'

โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”
WORDWORS& THE VOICE CONNECTING TOMORROW Image Image Image
wordsโ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”
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๏ผ†O1 ๏ผฏ๏ผด๏ผจ๏ผฅ๏ผฒ

FACE CLAIM ; QUESTION MARKS
HEX CODE ; #819FBB
PLAYED BY ; MACCOTANGO
CREATED BY ; VERIX

So begins...

Nico Matsumoto's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Raleigh Lanster Character Portrait: Yลซ 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: Cรฉcile Valovoi
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

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#, as written by Verix
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anImage
. Thanks Epi for writing the starting post!
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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."