REX
goth in a skirt. wat will he do?
best viewed on desktop.
NAME . . . Rex David Neumann
AGE . . . . . 25
GENDER . . . cis male | he/him
HEIGHT . . . 182cm | 6ft
ETHNICITY . . . german
ORIENTATION . . . panromantic/demisexual BADGE . . .volunteerCLASS . . . nerd
TALENT . . . killer intuition
HP . . .. 15/15
INT . . . 4 (base 1 + 3 )
STR . .. 2
DEX . ..0 (disadvantage)
SOC . .. 0COMBAT . . . brawler path
current LV. 0
self defense; brawler 01
VIEW . . . grey
rex isn't ready to believe in the supernatural or occult... but he's sensible enough not to rule the possibilities out, either — especially with spiritual and religious topics across cultures.
simply put, he stays respectful and keeps an open mind.POSITIVE TRAITS:
empathetic ● open-minded ● relaxed ● loyal ● level-headed ● independentNEGATIVE TRAITS:
introverted ● low-esteem ● a loner ● blunt ● detached ● indecisive*more in-depth information below.
TRIVIA . . .
rex adopted "david" as his catholic name upon converting.rex is vegetarian; not vegan, btw.
he can't give up eggs or dairy.he doesn't like any sweets or dessert.he's an avid PC/SNES gamer and speedrunner.
his favourite game is castlevania.he works at a nearby auto shop as a mechanic.he's very good at voice impressions.his favourite movie genres are black comedy and slasher (he is reluctant to acknowledge the latter).his voiceclaim is fez from euphoria.
As someone with a past rife with violence and delinquency, Rex used to have a short fuse. He's since moved on, his fatigue and shame mellowing him out into a quiet recluse. Right now he's not a typical book smart nerd — more of a geek, really. He's redirected his energy into car servicing, tinkering with electronic devices and playing any video game that catches his interest.He doesn’t pass most first impressions, whether it’s because of his unfriendly face or questionable fashion sense. You can find him parked in a corner, out of the spotlight. Call him a loner or a loser; but driving the rest of the world away was always how he protected himself from it. He takes time to warm up to people — very much like a feral cat under the bed.But under that unwelcoming exterior hides a fun-loving joker with an infectious laughter. Don't be alarmed if he makes any self-deprecating jokes, you can even laugh along! Rex rarely takes himself seriously and humour is a great coping mechanism for him. He tends to be blunt, sometimes crass, though his actions will reveal a very tender and caring nature. He’s extremely loyal to friends he respects, a bunch that can currently only be counted on one hand. He doesn't care about getting insulted, but take a jab at any of his loved ones and you'll see a completely different side of him.His wounds are healing, and God forbid they are ever reopened.
tw: dysfunctional family, domestic abuse/violence
tl;dr: born to two negligent parents. attacked his dad. got kicked out and moved to tallahassee.
converted to catholicism. got tricked by his well-meaning roommates to attend freak fest.For details of how Rex got his pass to Freak Fest, skip to IV. THE PRESENT.
I. EARLY ON: Rex was born into dysfunction, in a small town in rural Florida. His mother Delilah raised him on her own for the first few years of his life, until his father Logan finally came back from military deployment… and proceeded to do the bare minimum in raising his own son. Neither parent intended on starting a family.
As Rex got older, he became more and more aware of everything he lacked — namely, a healthy relationship with his parents. It made him insecure, bitter, and apathetic; and as a young teenager who didn’t know better, he resorted to truancy, violence and heavy rock to deal with those emotions. His authoritarian father would not take well to this, and their already constant disagreements soon turned physical, with increasing frequency. The violence peaked when Rex was 19, when he flew into a fit of rage and slashed Logan across the face with a kitchen knife.Rex and his brother were thrown out the house 2 hours later, with nothing but their belongings and some money their mother snuck them. Fortunately, Rex was able to get in contact with two friends who were willing to take him and his brother in — making their next stop several towns away, in Tallahassee. It was still better than being homeless.
II. TALLAHASSEE: Surprisingly, Rex and his brother settled down pretty quickly in their new town. His roommates genuinely meant well, supportive in his healing. It felt like… he finally had a home. Said roommates were, however, thrill seekers. They'd heard rumours of a “gliding ghost” at the local chapel where a small group of nuns live, and dragged Rex along one night to investigate it at an unholy hour past midnight. The boys split up, and as Rex warily paced down a dreary corridor, there it was. A ghostly shadow, gliding hauntingly past him.Wait. Fuck. What the fuck? He’s left rooted to the spot as if time had stopped. A tap on his shoulder jolts him to whip around into a stumble, hard on the ground, and he finds the answer they’d been looking for.A nun in roller skates.
III. FAITH: Rex would soon learn more about this nun who got around the chapel on skates — Agnes. A little lady whose size betrayed her sharp tongue. She was stern and curt, yet her kindness would shine through at just the right moments. Small talk between the two slowly veered deeper, and deeper. Sister Agnes understood him in a way no one else had, even if he listened to heavy rock, smoked, wore skirts, liked more than just girls… she accepted him (as much as she could), and became his voice of reason. A motherly figure, even. Eventually, he opened up to her about the pain he’d kept hidden for all those years prior. And for the first time in more than a decade, he cried. It provided catharsis, a solace he never imagined he’d experience, and it was more than enough for Rex to eventually surrender himself to the faith.
IV. THE PRESENT: The best way to describe Rex in the present day is... a shell of his former self. Over the 3 or so years since his religious conversion, he'd sought other means of forgetting his scars of the past, on top of regular visits to the chapel.Video games, mainly on the SNES. What started as a simple trial on his roommate's console out of boredom soon turned into a deep interest. With every new title he collected, he'd invest all his free time and effort into perfecting each stage, besting his own record until he couldn't any more. It was the escape he needed, distracting him from the negative thoughts that would've taken over otherwise. That, coupled with caring for his two cats and numerous reptiles. In fact, it was so effective Rex barely ever emerged from the house anymore — as long as it wasn't necessary, that is. And Rex was perfectly fine with that... but his brother and two roommates weren't too fond of his reclusiveness. It worried them; seeing the lively, troublemaking Rex they knew mellow out into. Uh. Whatever this was. A total shut-in with no semblance of a life aside from his work, games and his pets. So what if he took walks in the morning and had the latest Pink Floyd records? Bro was 60 years too early to be living like a nursing home patient.So, his roomies hatched a plan. They'd seen an ad in a punk magazine about some... Freak Fest. And it's all over the Internet. Real big deal, it seems. Unfortunately, these small town boys hadn't paid enough attention to the news to know what happened the year prior. It just seemed like the perfect way to get Rex not just out of the house, but the entire state for a vacation. In the sticks of Vermont, with no gadgets or games? YES. Besides, Rex was a walking encyclopedia of slasher movies, so he could surely make a friend or two there. So the two well-meaning friends took the liberty of getting Rex a volunteer pass. And let's just say... he wasn't very fond of the idea. But after a few rounds of painstaking convincing and half an argument, Rex finally relents. They meant well, and maybe they had a point. He wasn't too sure what he was doing with his life, either. His pass had already been paid for, anyway, and reality only sets in when he receives it in the mail.He had no idea he was packing for what could be the ultimate test of his faith.
tw: mentions of domestic abuse/violence
cw: religious imagery
Within an endless void, you find two doors — either one will eventually lead to the other.
Try not to lose your mind amidst the endless cycle.
A worn door. It feels familiar, but foreboding.
An ornate door. It feels foreign, but welcoming.
WHERE SHADOWS DANCE
You're upstairs. Light creeps up the stairs that lead down to the living room, fading hopelessly into the dark corridor. It can only mean one thing in the dead of night — he's home. Just the sight of it fills you with a dread that makes you feel so helpless, and it's infuriating. Better turn around and go back into your bedroom; and you do, careful not to make that one loose floorboard creak. You never fail to shut the door. Quietly.Not much of a bedroom, honestly. It's your only refuge, yet his presence continues to haunt you. Like the poster on the wall with unruly rock stars in white and black face paint, crazy hair and crazier expressions. Only you know that a fist-sized dent hides beneath those wide eyes and hanging tongues. The worn teak of your wardrobe conceals a mounted full-body mirror that you can't even see yourself in, instead a shadow in your figure. But that's not you; it has his eyes, though. His handsome, piercing gaze, you were told. The phrase itself could make even a cat sick. By the way, you left your portable radio on at your desk. It's not tuned right, with all the static noise it's emitting; but the dial inches itself to a certain frequency. Soon, the noise morphs into his voice. Gruff, condescending, vicious — the disappointment it holds cuts through the radio crackle like a knife."Useless."
"What now, boy? You have nowhere to go."
"Remember, boy. One wrong move, and you're out."So on and so forth. He's never said your name. Oh yes, turn the frequency to some rock music instead. The dial stubbornly returns on its own, and his voice continues to goad you. It's hard to take in, but if you keep listening, you find some... decent tidbits."Never tuck your thumbs under your fingers."
"Aim for the liver."
"Throat. Temple. Ears. Spine."You hate to admit it, but you've gotten pretty good at defending yourself because of him. Well..."Not good enough."Damn. You wonder what your brother's up to — he always knows what to say to comfort you. You look over to the door linking your adjacent rooms. There seems to be a soft, golden light peeking out from underneath.
▶ OPEN THE DOOR. . . . . . . . ▶ GO BACK OUTSIDE.
WHERE SAINTS GATHER
Who would've thought you'd find your way to a place like this? A quiet little chapel, and you're all alone. It's empty, a little stuffy, but entirely peaceful. Your footsteps echo softly on the ceramic floor tiles and you take a seat at the back of the room. At the altar up front, the evening sunset shining through the windows bathes a statue of Mother Mary in sun-kissed gold, her wax tears shimmering. Oh, hold on.Her eyes are welling up.So much for wax. Donned in delicate lace, stars crowning her head, immaculate in presence and yet! She continues to weep, and you cannot look away. It's an unnerving yet beautiful sight, though you shouldn't wonder if crying pretty is all she's good for. You find yourself questioning if she weeps for you, or because of you. You haven't been your best self for years, after all. A weight on your neck is getting heavier and heavier. It's your silver crucifix, hanging from a dainty, matching chain. Suddenly the wooden pew you're seated at doesn't feel very comfortable. You feel eyes on you from above, but when you look up, the painted saints and stone angels mounted on the chapel walls are minding their own business. Just your imagination. Your gaze returns to Mary, and her tears are turning crimson.Still, your heart does not quiver. A mother who worries over you, pities you, bleeds for you...? How do you fathom what you've never had? Whatever fate of yours that she silently laments over, you find yourself resigning to it. A grounding epiphany permeates your empty mind.If it is His will, you will be fine.
▶ GO "HOME". . . . . . . . ▶ FIND ANOTHER WAY OUT.
debs | 26 | they/them | GMT +8DISCORD: dibz#0211RP STYLE: 1 - 3 para, hcs. i prefer to keep things short and sweet.COMFORT ZONE: i'm fine with most things as long as we discuss them beforehand; but please no graphic descriptions of torture/drug (ab)use. i especially dislike making light of addiction.
RELATIONSHIPS
friends: ofc! rex takes a while to warm up to others, but he's always open to making new friends.
romance: rex already has a dedicated bf in other aus. however, i'm open to the notion of a platonic relationship.
enemies: sure!NSFW: hc-ing or fading to black is fine. i don't rp this with people i'm not familiar with.