I'M THE ONE WITH THE LIGHTER [open, fire]

[Gray]

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Nights had been easier over the past couple years. Sometimes he even went to sleep before dawn, curled up against his boyfriend's chest until their breaths came and went as one and there was nothing but that and the sound of his heart in his ear. In those quiet moments, where he could feel his blood in his veins, he was able to sleep, even in the darkness.

It was easy to feel safe in the room he'd build himself, in the arms of the man he loved, with the closest thing to a guardian he'd accept nearby. It felt like home, and Flintlock didn't, not anymore. He didn't sleep the first night back, and when he woke up at half past noon, it was with a sense of foreboding. This place was home to Torrin, and he'd stick around for however long it made him happy, but Gray was not a man for returning. And this was his second time back in the halls of the Lodge.

Tonight he'd left his room and gone outside, collecting sticks and kindling and rocks until he had a fire going. He sat hunched next to it, staring at the flames. 19 years old and still afraid of the dark, fucking brilliant. Whatever. After a few minutes he got up and scooped some snow into his hand, then placed it on the rocks besides the orange tendrils. He sat down and watched as it melted away.

[spoiler=MY CHILDHOOD SPAT BACK OUT THE MONSTER THAT YOU SEE | 04/02]General — biograhpy
▪ Grayson Hanson | Gray | Formerly Aria Rivendare
▪ Masculine presenting | Identifies as male | He/Him | DFAB
[size=7pt]— Almost impossible to tell his birth gender (get Pyre's permission before having y/c know)
▪ 19 years, 1 months | 2/6/22 | Ages primarily real time
▪ Ex-Ranger of the Flintlock Lodge | Ex-Member of Moorland Riders | Member of Nowhere

Physical — reference
♦ HUMAN | Health: 100%
— Gray is about medium height at 5'6", and very thin and lanky. He has gray eyes, and off-black hair cropped into an undercut, which has recently been cut a bit closer to the scalp than normal. Under his left eye he has a beauty mark, and there are a few scars on his medium-brown skin, and there are more under the slate gray bandanna, hoodies and jeans the gangly teen tends to wear. There are three pierces in his right ear, two in his lobe and one in the cartilage.
— minor injuries: n/a
— major injuries: n/a

Important Info — roleplayer
▪ In no way shows that he was born female, does everything possible to hide it (such as binding) and wears clothes meant for men. Without him stripping, it's pretty much impossible to tell that he isn't biologically male.
▪ Low-key history nut.
▪ Nearsighted.
▪ Has a blue pit bull named Brianna.
▪ Opinions and motivations are Gray's and Gray's alone and are not shared by his roleplayer.

Personality — INTJ-T
— DETAILED IS STILL A BIG WIP
— Articulate; contemplative; efficient; driven; incisive; intelligent; meticulous; orderly; perceptive; practical; rational; self-sufficient; shrewd; vigilant; witty, enigmatic; frank; neutral; placid; private; stoic, abrupt; aloof; assertive; blunt; calculating; coarse; critical; cynical; distrusting; judgmental; opinionated; pedantic; sarcastic; self-serving; unreliable; vindictive

Relationships — heartchart
▪ Val x Summer Rivendare | Adopted by Diana Hanson
▪ Pansexual | Panromantic | Monogamous
▪ Dating Torrin | One crush
▪ ½ Graytor | ½ Graux
▪ Generally puts on a friendly front and cares for those around him, but still holds them at arms' length and is very hard to get close to. Very awkward when flirted with and doesn't really like it, but becomes quite flirty when drunk

Interaction — plotting thread
— Medium Physically | Hard mentally
— Still in training
— Prefers to fight with a machete, but can go hand-to-hand
— No kill/capture/maim without permission
— To attack, [member=2027]Gray[/member] and attack in underlined #708090
[/spoiler][/size]

[truce.]

[align=center][div style="width: 430px; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 6pt; letter-spacing: 2.5px; word-spacing: 0px; line-height: 12px; color: #000"]tw. memory of character death.

This place was no home to him, but perhaps a temporary stop along the way.

His initial opinion of Flintlock Lodge had been gravely tainted by the blustery cold and the negligence that had led to the cold-blooded death of his little brother. His body was cold when Julian arrived alongside Scarlett and Lucius, yet laid out in the snow in the most undignified way as people gathered around in horror. A month on and Julian still felt sick to his stomach at the memory. His brother died in vain, a death that he certainly did not deserve. The Van Doren family at least laid him to rest in a way that he deserved: beloved and with his family by his side.

Sleep turned out to be challenging ever since. He’d blame it on the cold and the way his body trembled into an unsettled slumber, claiming that he’ll just get used to his now ❛ hypothermic tits ❜ as he’d so graciously put it, but there was always more to the story. He was angry, the resentment that they could fail his brother so badly riling him up even more every time he’d lay awake reliving that day. His bitterness was justified, but intense. Whilst the rest of his family seemed to have settled into Flintlock Lodge with ease, Julian couldn’t help but struggle. This place just made him mad. One day, perhaps he’d settle but, for the time being, the memories of this place were only negative.

In the kitchen eating a snack, Julian couldn’t help but observe the thick scent of smoke coming from outside. And so, as any curious man would, Julian slowly strolled out onto the front porch of the lodge, peering down at where Gray sat at a fire pit. ❝ So the indoor fireplace just doesn’t cut it for ya, huh? ❞ Julian questioned with a short huff, leaning on the railings as he watched the flames. ❝ Or does the cold appeal to you more? ❞