Build: Average height, average weight, absolutely fucking unspectacular.
Eyes and face: My eyes are blue & profoundly nearsighted like most of my dad’s fam. I have a comically round face, makeup helps a bit. I won’t talk shit about my nose because it’s the same as my great-grandma’s & she was eccentric & brilliant & I miss her.
Hair: I started graying at 19, oof.
MBTI/Enneagram: INFJ / 4w5
Tarot pull: Queen of swords
Zodiac: Gemini sun, Libra moon, Cancer rising — minor emo fuckboy energy.
Background: Hillabilly trailer trash. It’s classist, but succinct.
Ideals: A bunch of mushy Blake-esque crap about creative energy being divine force & supporting creative expression in all forms. It’s overly romantic, but it’s also right & I will fight you.
Bonds: My cats who ask no questions & have a wicked slash attack w mild poison damage because they are forged of allergens.
Flaws: Legendary at anxiety. Can’t comfortably eat anything but will eat a lot of chocolate anyway. Will drop a book if I get distracted or bored, but if it’s awful & makes me wish I was dead, I will read it all & complain a lot.
- If I had a time machine I would fight Lord Byron, befriend Keats, & get bombed on laudanum with Coleridge.
- Hell trio fuck, marry, kill: Nuanced answer — fuck Mel because he’s the least sociopathic and at least has a man bun; marry Gordy because he can’t fuck and also owns more books than me; kill H.D. because that’s the only correct kill answer. Best answer — Fuck Gordy so the universe divides by zero and blinks out of existence (The cardinal rule of the Hell Trio AU).