Realistic or Modern 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙜 - 𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘳𝘱 - (𝐜𝐬)

[weldherwings]

forever young

welcome to the afterlife.

Think of this as your “forever home”. Due to certain events, you are now conditioned to spend the rest of your after life here. Those on Earth would tell you that the afterlife is one of two destinations: up there in the clouds with all the angels and harps, or down there with fire and brimstone. But no one ever talks about the inbetween. That’s where you are. The Inbetween. Like I said before, certain events occurred which no longer gives you access to visit the Man Above. But we’re not that cruel; we wouldn’t make you spend the rest of eternity getting stabbed by pitchforks. And so that’s how you ended up here. One of our helpers will guide you to your new house where you can meet your roommate and discover which job you’ll be working for the rest of… well… for forever.

the basics.

Name
Nickname
Date of birth
Date of death
Age
Gender
Normal/Helper
Occupation in the afterlife
How did they pass away?

appearance

Height
Weight
Hair
Eyes
Body type
Face claim

inside.

Personality (plus vices and virtues)
Likes
Dislikes
Family life (Did they have sisters/brothers? Who did they leave behind )
3 Moments in their life that have led them to be where they are today.
Any other additional information you want to add in

/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.

 

[weldherwings]

wyatt ellis

buried next to his wife, deanne, and daughter, alice.

1988 - 2020

You never said I’m leaving. You never said goodbye. You were gone before I knew it, and only God knew why. A million times I needed you,
a million times I cried. If love alone could have saved you, you never would have died. In life I loved you dearly, in death I love you still. In my heart you hold a place, That no one could ever fill. It broke my heart to lose you, but you didn’t go alone. For part of me went with you, the day God took you home.

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  Greensboro obituaries

  
  

  ELLIS, Wyatt James, age 30, formerly of Greensboro passed away Wednesday, August 12 2020. He was a graduate of Northwest Guildford High School in 2002 and received his BS from UNC Greensboro, North Carolina, in 2006. He was a trusted employee at Sand and Sons car dealership for the past five years. Wyatt enjoyed camping trips and hunting with family and friends through out the United States. He is survived by his childhood sweetheart and wife of eight years, Deanne, and daughter, Alice.

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  name

  
  

  Wyatt James Ellis

  
  
  

  nickname

  
  

  Ellie/Elle (from his last name)

  
  
  

  age

  
  

  30

  
  
  

  date of birth

  
  

  1st August 1988

  
  
  

  date of death

  
  

  24th December 2020

  
  
  

  gender

  
  

  male

  
  
  

  normal/helper?

  
  

  normal

  
  
  

  occupation prior to death

  
  

  sales person/manager at car dealership

  
  
  

  occupation now

  
  

  bartender

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
• visage
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  eyes

  
  

  In life, his eyes were a bright, vibrant baby blue. However, in the In Between, his eyes are a darker shade of blue

  
  
  

  hair

  
  

  Light brown, often cut short with shaved sides

  
  
  

  weight

  
  

  76 kgs

  
  
  

  height

  
  

  188 cms (6 ft 2)

  
  
  

  body type

  
  

  athletic, mesomorph

  
  
  

  face claim

  
  

  scott Michael foster

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
• history
  
  
  
  

  one.

  Wyatt and Deanne Ellis were your typical white American family.
  
  They had been childhood sweethearts, married at the age of twenty-one, and lived in that two-story house with a garden and white picket fence out the front. Both successful and both with amazing family supporting their every move in life. Everything about them just seemed perfect. They were loved and adored by the neighborhood, and were always there to help out anyone in need. But there was something that they were missing; something they were lacking in their lives.
  
  The pair of them had been attempting for a child ever since the moment they cooed “I do” at the altar. They tried naturally for two years, with Deanne insisting on praying to God for a child. That didn’t work. So, they started IVF. That didn’t work either. They went on every diet, every crazed fad, stuck their legs up after every love making session, and baby danced almost every single day. Nothing was happening. Tests would tell them that they were both very healthy and there was literally no reason for them not to be able to conceive. Finally, the doctors concluded it was a mystery and for the pair of them to keep up with their healthy lifestyle, and to try not to stress; because, like everyone says, it happens when you least expect it.
  
  So, they continued on with their lives. Going to work, watering the garden, cooking meals, and dreaming for the baby they could never conceive. They took the advice of the doctors, family and friends, and decided to go away on a holiday to relax and unwind. Two weeks travelling around Switzerland was enough to recharge their drained batteries. Apart from Deanne who had travel sickness for the later part of the journey. Well, they thought it had been travel sickness. It wasn’t until she came out of the bathroom of their Air BnB in Bern with tears in her eyes did they realize what was happening. In her hands was a pregnancy test.
  
  Two very dark pink lines present upon that stick.
  
  
  

  
  

  two.

  trigger warning - death + stillborn
  
  The machines were screeching with continuous flustering beeping. The doctors barked out instructions, working in quick methodical protocols. The nurses were attempting to pull him away from her, telling him that they needed to rush her to surgery. Everything had been okay. The whole pregnancy they made sure to follow all instructions. They read all the baby books, they saw the top and finest doctors. They were told that there was nothing to worry about. That this was their reward from God from being patient and waiting for so long. Deanne went into labor, and they rushed to the hospital. She was doing so well with her breathing and pushing. The nurses and Wyatt championed her on.
  
  And then… something happened.
  All the sudden, everything wasn’t fine anymore.
  
  She was wheeled with great speed towards the operating rooms and he was left with his worst enemy; his anxiety and his mind. His family kept telling him that things would be fine. That Deanne and the baby were strong. That the doctors here were the best in the state. But when he saw the doctor return to the room, he knew in the pits of his stomach that something was off. He didn’t even need to open his mouth; Wyatt already knew. Deanne had passed away from amniotic fluid embolism, an incredibly uncommon and rare childbirth obstetric emergency. And when asked about his baby, the doctors responded with “I’m sorry… There was nothing we could do”
  
  His whole world came crashing around him.
  
  The nurses had been kind enough to clean and dress his daughter. They brought the stillborn child into the room, wrapped up in a blanket Deanne had knitted for her. For the first and last time, Wyatt was able to hold her in his arms. He sat with her, cradling her in his arms and telling her about how much he and Mummy love her very much. He must’ve sat there for an hour, staring down at her little face, praying that all of sudden a gasp of air would explode through her tiny lungs and life would bring back into her. But she didn’t. And neither did her mother.
  
  They were both gone.
  
  

  
  

  three.

  There as no point in any of it anymore.
  
  When you bury your wife and only child at the same time, no words can heal over the immense pain radiating through your soul. The people around him were encouraging and wishing him well, but none of those things could erase the fact that when he went home at night, the house was still. It was silent, dark and cold. A house once filled with such vibrancy and love was now empty. He would sit in the kitchen and watch as his memories played before him; Deanne dancing an improv Colombian dance in the kitchen as her favourite Shakira song came on Spotify while cooking dinner. Her smile and laughter imprinted and stained on the kitchen furniture and appliances as she twirled around with joy.
  
  They say that time heals all, but it only grew worse for Wyatt.
  
  Every morning he woke up, he was counting down the minutes he could lay down once more and go to sleep. That’s where he met her, in his dreams. In his dreams, she was happy, well, and dancing along with their daughter with that trademark grin. As soon as the sun set, Wyatt was well prepared with a whiskey glass of scotch and ice and the sleeping tablets he had been prescribed by his doctors when Deanne first passed away. He had been struggling to sleep at first, missing the feeling of his loved one next to him at night.
  
  It had been a particularly hard day that day. We won’t go into the finer details, but know that everything reminded him of Deanne and their daughter. So, as soon as the sun kissed the land goodnight, he was ready with his scotch and tablets. One tablet never seemed to be enough anymore. He wanted to see her in his dreams for longer. Two tablets wouldn’t hurt, right? Well… maybe he just wanted to spend the rest of his life by her side. In this life and the next. And so, he poured the full contents of his medicine container into his hand. With one large sip and gulp, they were down his throat and entering his system.
  
  He climbed into bed and closed his eyes, a sigh of relief slipping past his lips as he allowed his body to melt into the mattress beneath him. This was it. He was ready to spend the rest of his life with Deanne and Alice.
  
  Little did he know.
  
• inside
  
  
  personality - ENFJ-A - the protagonist

  
  

  Wyatt fells called to serve a greater purpose in life (and the afterlife). Thoughtful and idealists, he strives to have a positive impact on other people and the world around him. He will rarely shy away from an opportunity to do the right thing, even when doing so is far from easy.
  
  Even with his strong opinions, Wyatt is far from being closed-minded. He recognizes the importance of allowing others to express themselves fully. Even when he doesn’t agree with someone, he recognizes that person’s right to voice their truth. Wyatt is reliable and can always be counted on his promises and responsibilities. The thought of letting someone down bothers him greatly that he’ll even lose sleep over it. Wyatt strives to be a driving force for positive change; he genuinely believes that if he brings people together, they collectively can do a world of good. He is passionate and takes (well, took) great pleasure in pursuing hobbies such as hiking, camping, hunting, cooking – the list goes on! As a result, he rarely finds himself at a loss for something interesting to do. Finally, he’s incredibly charismatic, determined and inspiring, which has often landed him in leadership roles. He rarely loses sight on his main goal and that’s to be a service to others.
  
  However, Wyatt can put a lot of pressure on himself to right every wrong that he encounters. He can be overly idealistic, and often thinks that everyone shares these fundamental principles of what is right and wrong – or, at least, that everyone should share these principles. So it can come to a genuine shock to him when people violate their core values, such as truth or justice. While he enjoys teaching others, particularly about the causes and beliefs that matter so much to him, it can sometimes come across as patronizing – which isn’t the most effective strategy for persuading other people, sadly. When it comes to self-improvement, Wyatt is rarely short on energy or determination. However, he sometimes doesn’t recognize that not everyone shares these qualities, and may push others to make changes that they aren’t ready for, or simply aren’t interested in making in the first place. And to top off the cupcake with a big old cherry, Wyatt is overly empathetic. Compassion is one of his greatest strengths, but he has a tendency to take on other people’s problems as his own – a habit that can leave him emotionally and physically exhausted.
  
  

  
  

  
  

  likes

  A fan of collecting mini brands (something he misses in the afterlife), sports/exercising in general, hiking, camping, hunting, cave exploring, picnics, going out for drives at 3am just to clear your head, and challenging himself to cook proper meals
  

  
  

  dislikes

  Not a massive fan of tattoos (more so because of his upbringing), Nutella (Hazelnut allergy – but does that really matter now? It’s not like he can die again), tight fitting clothes, hospitals
  

  
  

  
  

  family life

  After death, Wyatt leaves behind his parents (April and Leroy Ellis), his older sister (Amanda) and his collection of sea snails which are most likely long dead (he highly doubts his parents or sister would’ve wanted to deal with them).
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.

 

[weldherwings]

kwon tae-hyung

gone but not forgotten

1988 - 2015

I loved you, you made me, hate me. You gave me hate, see? It saved me and these tears are deadly. You feel that I rip back, every time you tried to steal that. You feel bad, you feel sad? I'm sorry, hell no fuck that. It was my heart, it was my life, it was my start, it was your knife. This strife, it dies, this life and these lies. And these lungs, have sung, this song, for too long, and it's true, I hurt too, remember I loved you

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  Los Angeles obituaries

  
  

  KWON, Tae-Hyun, age 27, formerly of Los Angeles passed away Sunday, September 20 2015. He was a graduate of Robert F. Kennedy Community School in 2004. He has had multiple jobs and was well known in Koreatown, Los Angeles, for his determined spirit and willingness to work. Described as a quiet but diligent, Tae-Hyun always pursued to do his best in every given situation. He is survived by his mother, Nari, who lost her battle to cancer in 2011.

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  name

  
  

  Kwon Tae-Hyung

  
  
  

  nickname

  
  

  Tae, or simply 'T'

  
  
  

  age

  
  

  27

  
  
  

  date of birth

  
  

  25th January 1988

  
  
  

  date of death

  
  

  20th September 2015

  
  
  

  gender

  
  

  male

  
  
  

  normal/helper?

  
  

  normal

  
  
  

  occupation prior to death

  
  

  unemployed (well, passed away before he could quit)

  
  
  

  occupation now

  
  

  long life staff

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
• visage
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  eyes

  
  

  In life, his eyes had been a dark brown shade. However, in the afterlife, they are now black.

  
  
  

  hair

  
  

  Naturally, he has dark brown coarse thick hair. However, he tends to bleach it and cuts it into an undercut (shaved on the sides) with a straight fringe

  
  
  

  weight

  
  

  65 kg (143 lbs)

  
  
  

  height

  
  

  181 cm (5’11”)

  
  
  

  body type

  
  

  athletic, mesomorph

  
  
  

  face claim

  
  

  choi seung-hyun

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
• history
  
  
  
  

  one.

  Tae was always a quiet child. “A man of little words” some would say. They assumed he was full of shyness and simply chose not to speak in the presence of others. What they didn’t understand was the cluster of emotions running through his body. His intestines curled and withered simply at the thought of speaking to someone who wasn’t his mother. His mouth became dry, and he lost the ability to combine words to formulate some coherent sentences. His father grew tired and weary, and simply took his son’s lack of communication as a ticket out of the family; fleeing their house in the dead of night and leaving nothing more than a photo album filled with tainted memories of the times they pretended to be a happy family.
  
  He managed to get through his childhood through to his teenage years in the absence of a father figure. When he reached adulthood, his mother became sick. For once in his life, he was going to have to build enough courage to by himself. To not only take care of his mother at home but to now provide for the pair of them by getting a job. He was barely able to keep a job for more than a week at a time. Anxiety riddled him; he felt like he needed to vomit every time he had to greet a customer. His hands would furiously shake as he was tasked in carefully compiling inventories for displays. His mind would flood with a thick fog whenever he was putting an order through on a cash register.
  
  For years he struggled with his anxiety dragging him into the depths of the sea of disbelief and despair. And with the passing of his mother, it only grew worse. However, that all changed when he met her. Naomi. Through a mutual connection, they had met at a bar one night. They went home together and from that moment on they had been inseparable. Naomi’s father was the CEO of a data company; and she convinced her father to give Tae a desk job. All he would have to do would input data onto a computer, reply to emails, and occasionally sit in some meetings. It was an absolute dream job and he had her to thank for it.
  
  
  

  
  

  two.

  Had he known that today was going to be the day he was going to die, he would’ve spent a little bit more time doing the things he loved. He would’ve opted to eating a chocolate cereal instead of shoving down a half-buttered toast. He would’ve called in sick to work so he wouldn’t of had such a mad rush in the morning, barely making it out of his apartment on time. He would’ve taken a scenic bike ride rather being stuck on the overcrowded subway train. He defiantly would’ve picked some fried chicken over the salad he ended up having for lunch. He would’ve nestled himself into bed after a long day, curled up with his cats; but instead, he had decided to go to Naomi’s house to surprise her.
  
  She had said she was having a busy night, working on a case for the law firm she was established at. That she wouldn’t have time to answer phone calls or for a few moments of peace as she worked from home. Looking back at it now, he had been an absolute fool to believe it. The moment he turned the doorknob, he could feel the dread wash over his body. He should’ve just turned around and gone home, but the siren was calling out his name and dragging him towards the bedroom. The door was wide open; that’s where he found them. Lights down low, candle scent thick in the air, reserve cowgirl. She didn’t even notice that he was standing there, watching her give all her attention and her body to his boss. The man who would call him into the office sporadically to announce he would have to stay late for the night to add more data into the computers. Was there ever any data to be inputted? Or had he been creating diversions or reasons for Tae to stay late in the office so he could find his way into the arms of his lover, Naomi?
  
  She didn’t even see him. So, she didn’t even see him as he exited her apartment; he did, however, slammed the door and allowed the echo to reverberate throughout her complex to leave behind his signature. Even as he sat at the bar, drowning himself in alcohol, she didn’t even ring him. His phone remained silent and cold. Three years together; had she ever really loved him? Had he not only wasted his time but also his words on her? The intrusive thoughts continued to flood his mind, taking hostage of any glimmer of hope that could be left within him. With each drink, the thoughts didn’t leave but were numbed. They remained, but they didn’t hurt as much. And so, he continued to drink.
  
  And drink.
  
  And drink.
  
  Until he couldn’t remember anything else. Until he blacked out. Until he didn’t feel the pain anymore.
  
  

  
  

  three.

  Death was – and is – a surreal experience.
  
  All pain that was in your life just… gone. The heavy burden that would lie flat on top of your chest as you lay in bed at night was finally lifted. You can finally breathe again. He watched as his body laid helpless on the floor. The men in the bar standing around, chuckling that he had had just a bit too much to drink and was too drunk to even stand. The moments dragged and finally someone came to check upon him. Panic ensued as that person was now filled with fear and dread, shouting out to the bartender to ‘call an ambulance’ and ‘this man is dead’.
  
  He watched as the paramedics tried to resuscitate him, pounding his chest with great force and even hearing the sound of his rib cage finally giving way and cracking under the pressure. He watched as he was wheeled through the hospital and other doctors began to try their hand at bringing him back to life. But none couldn’t. There were no wails and no tears; just doctors and nurses paying their respects as they called a time of death and covered his body. He watched as they did his autopsy and concluded that he had literally drank himself to death; that alcohol poisoning had brought him to an end. And finally, he watched as they cremated his body and left his ashes on top of a shelf in a columbarium. Not one person claimed his body, and not one person visited his urn. His existence was simply gone from the world.
  
• inside
  
  
  personality - ISTP-A - Virtuoso

  
  

  Tae is always up to his elbows in some project or other. He rarely gets stressed out, preferring to with the flow of things. He’s very imaginative when it comes to practical things, mechanics, and crafts; he especially loves using his hands to put things into action. He’s flexible, able to switch mindsets to fit new situations with little effort. Along with flexibility, come unpredictability; being able to store up all their energy before releasing it when it’s most needed. Thanks to this hands-on creativity and spontaneity, Tae is a natural in a crisis. He actually enjoys a little physical risk, and isn’t afraid of getting his hands dirty when the situation calls for it. Finally, Tae is quite relaxed, and able to stay relaxed in almost every situation. He lives in the moment, going with the flow, refusing to worry too much about the future.
  
  Now, as easily as it is for Tae to go with the flow, he can also ignore it entirely, and usually move in another direction with little apology or sensitivity. If someone tries to change his habits, lifestyle or ideas through criticism, he can become quite blunt. As he’s a man of logic, Tae can come across as insensitive. Even when he tries to meet others halfway with empathy and emotional sensitivity, it rarely seems to quite come out right. As he is a true introvert, Tae is not only a man of logic but a man of mystery as he’s incredibly private and reserved. He’s notoriously difficult to get to know, keeping his personal matters to himself and often only preferring silence to small talk. With his stubbornness, difficulty with others’ emotions, focusing on the moment, and becoming incredibly bored so easily, Tae often leads himself to unnecessary and unhelpful boundary-pushing – just for fun. He has been known to escalate conflict and danger just to see where it goes, something that can have disastrous consequences for everyone around if he loses control of the situation.
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  likes

  Going for a ride on his bike, drinking, collecting shells at the beach, cats, reading sci-fi books, wine tasting
  

  
  

  dislikes

  Loud people, when people don't put things back in the right spot (especially working as a long life staff member), has a fear of crabs/lobsters and mice
  

  
  

  
  

  family life

  Tae came from a broken family; he’s not sure if his dad is still alive, and his mum passed away only four years ago. He’s a single child, so no siblings. The only thing he leaves behind on Earth that he will dearly miss with all his heart are his four cats; Speckles, Max, Lucy and Moonie. There is someone else he leaves behind but... we don't talk about her.
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.

 

[Sign]

Park Hyun Woo

1983 - 2014

✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿
✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿
Although the child you had saved came to give you a look of confusion when he saw you in the coffin,
we all knew you were a hero that day.

/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.

 

[Gao]

content warning of self-inflicted death and substance mentions!!​

• aa
• aa
• aa
• aa
• aa

• 
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  DEAD

  
  
  
  

  AMBRUS MIKSA

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  LOVESICK

  
  
  
  

  HYPNOGAJA.

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  NICKNAMES

  
  
  

  AMBROSE, AMBER

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  age

  
  
  

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  ETHNICITY

  
  
  

  HUNGARIAN + FINNISH

  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  SEXUALITY

  
  
  

  BI

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  D.O.B - D.O.D

  
  
  

  1994-2021

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
• 
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  Age

  
  
  

  27

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  Role

  
  
  

  Normal

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  JOB

  
  
  

  Hotel Clerk

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  FC

  
  
  

  Ville Valo

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  Height

  
  
  

  5'9" (175cm)

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  Weight

  
  
  

  160lbs (72kg)

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  Ambrus

  
  
  
  

  Suicide pact survivor is under
  continuous monitoring after opioid
  overdose. Two bodies were found
  yesterday night in an east London
  hotel where a guest notified police
  over suspicion linked to a series of
  aggravated robberies. A male was
  found dead on arrival, and police have
  cordoned off the hotel room for further
  investigation. “Pacts are often an act of
  love," said the coroner, "unwilling to be parted."
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  Visage

  
  
  

  EYES: Seafoam iris bears ink-dark rings of sunken anatomy and discoloration. Whilst a pale shade akin to mint, they’re anything but fresh with their raccoon-like pretence.
  
  HAIR: Tidy refinement is outside jurisdiction and care, instead opting for the inertia of unruly and choppy. Never brushed or styled, its natural wavy texture is forgiving in hiding asymmetry, and under sunlight, alludes tones of burnt sienna.
  
  SCARS: Knife meets microwavable pizza box meets hand. The mishap has left a scar over the second knuckle of his pointer finger.
  
  MODS: Pierced lobes and an assortment of tattoos.
  
  DISTINGUISHING: Hollow and haunting, enamel skin and a dishwater palette make Ambrus a convincing depiction of “death warmed up”.
  
  A subtle gap divides his front teeth, leading contributor to his fear of dentists.
  
  STYLE: Casual no matter the affair, dark and comfortable is all Ambrus cares for. On occasion he can be seen walking around with socks and no shoes, predominantly at his job.
  
  BUILD: His body illustrates a life of microwavable meals and tobacco. Lean and lanky bordering on poor nutrition, it remains no secret that gym carpet has never gone underfoot.
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
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    PERSONA

    
    
    
    

    
    
    

    
    
    

    
    
    
    
    

    Voice of gravel and humour dry as sandpaper, Ambrus’ mother tongue is neither Magyar nor Suomi, but the sweet syrup of sarcasm. Words are coated in calcified, shimmering apathy, and habitually prove successful in curdling sweet conversations sour.
    
    Speaking as if he owns the human language, it is something learned beyond the grip of a pen and drone of a tutor, gleaned through experience rather than toiling away at graffitied desks; the bruise of an irate teenager galvanising armour of cynicism. Always a wry commentator from the side-lines, indifference becomes him.
    
    Deadpan mordacity impertinent to many, there can be good-natured wit to his remarks, tender bon mots of familiarity. Dim of death has subdued smiles and shine, leaving flippant nature an uncertain divisor on where you stand with Ambrus: friend or foe, nobody is certain.
    
    Akin to a bloodhound tracking through underbrush and dredge, he often, unintentionally, finds new corners to discover. Ambrus could read books by four and between the lines of conversation by six. Insignificant details are retained, jumping to conclusions is his favourite sport, and when prone to suspicion, shows stereotypical Hungarian dislike towards anything indirect.
    
    Albeit aimless as light, the fact of the matter remains: a need to feel wanted. Scavenger-like for scraps of value, fear of abandonment festers molasses and tar-black in his chest. Viewing friends through rose-colored lenses, he is susceptible to dishing platters of easy forgiveness. A spinal column of thirty-three vertebrae, and still a little more backbone would not have gone amiss.
    
    Whether desperation or fervent desire, stubborn claims and unfailing idealism could be viewed heartening or just stupidly naïve. Tunnel-vision hope is his only anchor, a lodestone fatally sick with the heated opium of denial. Rare does temper find reason to stir, but cynicism or soft-spoken advice to just “move on” ignites a gunpowder temperament of leonine teeth and spat words. All his ambition and faith are cinched to one thing, one person— and it is in their lingering absence where fractures of the truth can no longer be ignored.
    

    
    
    
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    TRAITS

    
    
    
    

    
    
    

    
    
    

    
    
    
    
    

    VIRTUES

    Devoted, social, hopeful, relaxed, humble, flexible, romantic, comfortable, assured.

    
    

    VICES

    Snide, aimless, co-dependent, lazy, moody, obstinate, jealous, idealistic & volatile.

    
    
    
  • 
    
    
    

    
    
    
    

    
    
    
    

    
    

    
    
    
    

    
    
    

    
    

    
    
    

    
    

    
    
    
    

    
    
    

    
    
    

    
    
    
    
    

    
    
    

    other

    
    
    
    

    
    
    

    
    
    

    
    
    
    
    

    ➢ Spotify Playlist
    ➢ Pinterest Board
    
    

    HABITS

    ➢ Propping feet up on furniture.
    ➢ Scrubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands.
    ➢ Always ordering the same food or drink. Reluctant of change.
    ➢ Tapping his teeth with a nail or pen.
    
    

    FEARS

    ➢ Dentists.
    ➢ Roaches.
    ➢ Abandonment.
    
    

    HEADCANONS

    ➢ Must fight the masculine urge to jump and hit the top of his head on every door he passes through. Instead settles for slapping a hand on them.
    ➢ Good at card games, or more accurately, cheating at them. Probably banned from several afterlife casinos.
    ➢ Refers to most people as ‘dear’. Derogatory.
    ➢ Has nice handwriting. Don’t ask why. He doesn’t know either.
    ➢ If he can cheat at something, he’ll find a way. Work smarter, not harder.
    ➢ Sees nothing wrong with adding energy drinks into coffee.
    ➢ Trash-heap of a human being. Can’t keep any space tidy to save his life.
    ➢ Chews pens, pencils, hoodie strings.
    ➢ Refuses to read manuals or ask for directions.
    ➢ Currently on the hunt for the best desk bell.
    ➢ That one meme of the dog sipping coffee in a burning kitchen, “this is fine”.
    ➢ Name translates to Immortal, Similar to God. Which is ironic since he’s like… dead.
    ➢ TBA
    
    

    
    
    

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  likes

  
  
  
  

  Microwaveable pizza, burnt coffee, stacking playing cards into pyramids, pálinka brandy, pool, gambling, walking around in socks, pumpernickel rye bread with chunks of butter, ugly animals, feeling wanted.

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  dislikes

  
  
  
  

  Golf, texture of pepper against teeth, gnomes, assembling furniture, the sound of dry felt-tip markers on paper, surprises, asking for directions, smell of vodka, eggs, infidelity and isolation.

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
• 
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  kismet

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  Szentendre, 2001

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  The warm brick house was made of damp vermillion.
  
  A fat dog drooled on a pillow like a dozing newborn, swaddled in fireplace warmth and crochet blankets pieced together by aged hands. The same cold-cracked skin that weaved baskets, shaped sweet bread for a wooden oven, strained three coffees and stirred paprika-heavy Goulash in a pot— grandmother’s crucible.
  
  Her husband chewed tobacco in his mouth, gathered between teeth and tongue like grease-black bullets to spit into the drain. Beard white with oil and tending a record player of tinny folk music, he’d cuss and curse his brittle hip for its decay and forgotten dances.
  
  Butter-yellow fingers dealt cards each night, and attentive grandson memorised their hands. Taught how to play poker and blackjack next to a bowl of figs, exchanging winnings of cheating accusations and sweets.
  
  In summer dirt would harden into marble, and rain would turn the lawn into an emerald pond bearing a crown of fragrant thyme. It is easy to mistake gemstone for headstone, and come winter, all red-wine bricks trembled together in the riptide of grandmother’s passing. Buried in the backyard of that vermillion house.
  
  Had to kill the dog too. It kept trying to dig her out.
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  Norwich, 2011

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  Sometimes, as Ambrus scrubbed out the smell of bile liquor from bathroom tiles, he’d think death could be rewritten as mercy.
  
  Stars are discernible to the human eye, yet many are already dead. A fading Requiem abandoned thousands of lightyears away, seen but unheard;
  
  Grey with grief and glossed with rheum, migration tested his grandfather with tempered glass, solace of a bottle, and won. Delivering neither follicled-fist anger or clean cuts of insult, he lived passively in a chair. Falling asleep to the pixels of television and hum of a footside heater; a dead star with a dim core. Quiet, exhausted, and drunk, drunk, drunk.
  
  The childhood dog clawed up dirt for a chance at salvation, for unity, succeeded, and his grandfather died each day, lost to liquor since his wife’s passing. Wishing to be neither mad-dog or drunk, the aftermath of loss and its grief were undesirable to Ambrus.
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  London, 2020

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  Passage of time bends itself to the shape of people in life, and having met them was one of God's few mercies. The very thing Ambrus had watched crumble man and loyal canine, the origin of eternal grief if lost: soulmate. Incandescently alive, every inch of his body screamed with dependence, co-dependence, and as if tied to bone, they were tethered. Shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip, never seen without.
  
  That tie became fated leash, a stone pulling them inwards and downwards. Lost in the eddying madness of living on blades of teeth, thinning pay-checks and mockery of unpaid bills, a casino pit fogged with eye-watering smoke became a final resort.
  
  Seated at a blackjack table like a little demi-god of Loki, trickster with a magicians sleight of hand. Akin to golden gilt splashed over rust, verisimilitude victories had opponents rolling in their graves to see him bear the fruit of their high wages.
  
  He should’ve made like Pangaea and broke away, as when deceptions are caught, casinos expect repentance, compensation for their lost time and money.
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
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  gallery

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  rel.

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  PARTNER

  
  
  

  ALIVE | EX?

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  Childhood sweethearts and partners in crime, their pact to join each other at the end of life and to the beginning again fell through when one survived. Little is Ambrus aware— or perhaps just blind with a year of denial —they no longer intend on fulfilling that pact. He might be the dead one, but he’s the one waiting on a ghost.
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  Ambrus Miksa

  
  
  
  

  
  Thisbe was veiled to the tomb of Ninus,
  sat under a mulberry-tree. Ruby froth
  mouthed the veil and Pyramus drew
  his ivory scabbard. For the mulberry
  fruit still reddens at its ripeness, and
  the ashes rest, sat in a common urn.
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

nine lives

 

[floralmoon]

everly wilcox

1994 - 2019

The sky cried with me today. I let the rain come down hard over me and felt you in every drop. It’s as if even the heavens know you belong on Earth.

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  Pitkin County Obituaries

  Everly Wilcox, 25, of Aspen, Colorado, born on July 12, 1994, passed on December 06, 2019. Everly was born on July 12, 1994. She graduated Aspen High School in 2012, with Honors and as valedictorian. In 2015, Everly graduated from Southern New Hampshire University with Masters of Nursing degree in Psychiatry and Community Mental Health. She was a beloved employee at Colorado West Mental Health as an Advanced Psychiatric Nurse Practitioner. She leaves behind her mother, Cheryl Walker-Wilcox, 52, her sisters, Margaret, 28, and Chloe, 21, along with her fiance Vincent Douglas, 27. She will be missed dearly by all who were graced by her loving and caring outlook on life.

  name

  everly wilcox

  nickname

  Ev or Rae

  age

  25

  date of birth

  July 12, 1994

  date of death

  December 6, 2019

  gender

  female

  normal/helper?

  normal

  occupation prior to death

  advanced psychiatric nurse practitioner

  occupation now

  nurse
• visage
  eyes

  green

  hair

  ginger red

  weight

  143

  height

  5'8"

  body type

  lean and muscular

  face claim

  Faith Collins
• history
  one.

  Everly met the love of her life while away in New Hampshire attending college. Vincent and Everly didn't share any common studies, but bumped into each other quite a bit at the library. Soon enough, Vincent would begin to ask her to meet at the library at certain times to study together. These study dates slowly turned into actual dates, at first just coffee shops and froyo, then started to become more upscale and romantic. The two began dating in the summer of 2013, and were steady for the remainder of their time at college. Everly proposed the idea to Vincent that they both move back to Aspen and start a life there. The two were beyond ecstatic to begin this new chapter in their life and start their own family. In 2018, Vincent and Everly took a trip to Bora Bora, where he proposed to her, of course she said yes and would almost immediately being planning the wedding.

  two.

  In 2019, Everly received a call from her mother, stating that something was wrong with her younger sister, Chloe. Without second guessing, Everly packed a bag and hopped in her car to make the journey back to her hometown. As night drew closer and the sun started lowering, snow starting falling. At first it was slow and sporadic, but then it became heavier and faster. Everly tried her best to maintain her lane and continue her journey to her sister's aide. Unfortunately, as she goes around a curve, there was a patch of black ice that she hit going 60mph. This caused her to lose control of her vehicle and run off the road, flipping 3 times before coming to a stop with the wheels spinning in the air. When morning came and her mother couldn't get in contact with her, she called the authorities to try and locate her.

  three.

  Burying a child is never easy, burying your fiancee is never easy, but sometimes its something people will have to do. Everly's funeral was filled with people who loved her, both family and friends, even coworkers and some strangers. Her family consistently visits her grave, every holiday, birthday, and even just on the weekends they wanted to continue to include her in their family activities as much as they could. As for her fiance, Vincent, he would show up and have a picnic at her gravesite, conversing with the wind, hoping that somehow she would be able to hear him speaking to her.
• inside
  personality

  A kind and caring girl, Everly wanted the best for everyone, but it didn’t seem to include herself. She would help out anyone who seemed in the slightest bit of distress. Doing so put her in some dangerous situations, but she didn’t care in the slightest. This lead to many people describing her as a selfless caregiver, always going out of her way to give to someone. Many people took advantage of this and soon she became more closed off and reserved. Everly never lost her compassionate ways, they just take longer to see after meeting her. Her shyness does tend to get in the way of meeting new people occasionally, but that hasn’t stopped her from at least trying.

  likes

  helping others | animals | picnics | baking

  dislikes

  negativity | rude people | being taken for granted | impulsive decisions

  family life

  Cheryl Walker-Wilcox - Mother | 52 Thomas Wilcox - Estranged Father | 58 Margaret Wilcox - Older sister | 28 Chloe Wilcox - Younger sister | 21 Vincent Douglas - Fiance | 27

/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.

 

[sunnieside]

giang vo

an honorable daughter and friend

1998 - 2016

Nothing 'bout the way that you were treated ever seemed especially alarming 'til now. So you tie up your hair and you smile like it's no big deal. You talk of the pain like it's all alright. But I know that you feel like a piece of you's dead insidе. You showed me a power that is strong enough to bring sun to the darkest days.

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  snappbearden obituaries

  
  

  Giang Tien Vo, 18, of San Francisco, California passed away unexpectedly on May 27, 2016. She was predeceased by grandparents Toan and Hanh Nguyen and she left behind her father and mother Tai and Phuong Vo. Giang recently graduated high school top of her class and was pursuing higher education with a full ride. She was kind, self-less, and a hard worker. Giang's life was filled of caring for others and now many others will no longer be able to experience her services.

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  name

  
  

  giang (y-ah-ng) vo

  
  
  

  nickname

  
  

  none

  
  
  

  age

  
  

  18

  
  
  

  date of birth

  
  

  may 9

  
  
  

  date of death

  
  

  may 27

  
  
  

  gender

  
  

  female

  
  
  

  normal/helper?

  
  

  normal

  
  
  

  occupation prior to death

  
  

  hs graduate

  
  
  

  occupation now

  
  

  barista

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
• visage
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  eyes

  
  

  brown

  
  
  

  hair

  
  

  wavy dark brown

  
  
  

  weight

  
  

  125 lbs

  
  
  

  height

  
  

  5'4

  
  
  

  body type

  
  

  average? petite?

  
  
  

  face claim

  
  

  hang t nguyen

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
• history
  
  
  
  

  one.

  
  Don’t tell people your worries. You’ll only burden them. You don’t want others to suffer because of you… right?
  
  As Giang grew up, she was constantly told to not be a nuisance by telling others about her problems. The only people she was allowed to talk about her issues with were her parents. However, whenever Giang would speak about her problems, her parents would guilt her about having those problems and have her focus on her academics.
  
  Giang had very high expectations, especially since she was a second-generation Vietnamese American. Her parents worked over sixty hours a week at a factory to provide for their family’s sustainability. As their only daughter, they consistently reminded her that they came to America for her to succeed. For her to give honor to their family.
  
  Thus, Giang excelled in academics and appeared cheerful to everyone she met. However, she faked having a positive persona to the point that she believed that there was nothing wrong with her. It’s like that fun fact about when a person is forced to smile constantly; it tricks the brain to be happier.
  
  When Giang was in junior high, she befriended a spirited young girl who came to be the only close friend Giang will ever have. They constantly talked at school, and the girl would always try to invite Giang over to play. But, of course, Giang would say no because it would worry her parents, and she didn’t want them to suffer.
  
  One day, Giang and the girl were having a deep conversation, and the girl ended up telling her, “Because we are friends, you can tell me anything troubling you!”
  
  Was this an offer for Giang to finally open herself up to someone? Giang ended up telling the girl all of her troubles, and when she was done, the girl ended up crying.
  
  After that, Giang never talked to the girl again.
  
  

  
  

  two.

  *TW*
  when giang entered high school, she made sure to keep herself busy so she didn’t have time to make friends or deal with anything else. many people perceived her as a hard worker who was willing to help others out when needed. giang felt important for once in her life. that was when she realized she didn’t need friends, she just needed to be helpful.
  
  as giang went through high school, she continued to ignore the stress and loneliness that built up. she discovered weed from a Vietnamese catholic boy she somewhat befriended. he ended up becoming her plug and she would smoke when her emotions became too much for her. then, during her senior year she had a mental breakdown. everything was extremely too much and not even smoking could help her. what could she do? she looked around and grabbed a knife.. then suddenly her emotions just… drained away.
  
  she never had a mental breakdown again.
  

  
  

  three.

  giang didn’t remember how she had died. she just found herself standing over her dead body after what appeared to be a deadly car crash. it was haunting to see herself lying limp with blood seeping out. she supposed she must have hit a deer or something. it was a shame that she had passed right after she graduated high school.
  
  she wondered how she ended up dead. giang worked a week of 12-hour shifts and she had to get up early today to go to work. ah, that must have been it. her body gave out on her at the worst time. giang saw ambulances and state troopers rushing to revive her and record what could have possibly happened. she looked up to see that she must have driven off a cliff because the road must have been at least a hundred feet above where her body was currently at.
  
  a helicopter drooped down into the ravine to broadcast what had happened while the paramedics zipped Giang’s body into a body bag. giang jumped to hear screams and she turned to see both of her parents’ faces twisted in such agony.
  
  oh god, she fucked up.
  
  were they screaming because they had lost their daughter or were they screaming because they lost their only hope for success?
  
  giang couldn’t stay to find out because before she knew it, she ended up in the in-between.
• inside
  
  
  personality

  
  

  Giang is a people pleaser, in order for her to feel useful she wants to do all she can to make others happy. She keeps a cheerful facade and is always doing something. She is afraid to get close to people so she doesn’t really have any friends. Basically, a bit socially awkward. At the same time, she’s sociable? It’s like there is a wall behind that happy and sociable aura that no one can ever get pass. It’s like a saying that resonated with Giang had heard from a grumpy old man, “It’s easy to make acquaintances as you age, but harder to form close relationships.”
  
  Other than that, she is very easy-going. Although, from time to time, she will have angry outbursts because she has no healthy way of releasing her uncomfortable emotions. So when that happens, she switches to her good friend: the devil’s lettuce.
  

  
  

  
  

  likes

  coffee, boba, desserts, kbbq, weed, sleeping, staying busy, being depended on, being wanted
  

  
  

  dislikes

  family, making friends, vegetables, burgers, wet socks, kimchi, neglected, ignored, alone, EMOTIONS
  

  
  

  
  

  family life

  Giang wasn’t extremely close with her parents. They assumed they had a close relationship with her but Giang thought otherwise. Her parents were constantly working and whenever they come home, they always yelled at her and believed whatever they wanted to believe about her. All Giang could do was nod her head and let them do what they wanted. All she wanted was to please them and her parents always never seemed 100% pleased. There was always that one thing she could be working on.
  
  “Have you applied for those scholarships?”
  
  “Why haven’t you gone to youth group at church?”
  
  “What is this 99% on your test for? You do realize we sacrificed so much for you to come to America here so you can have a better life, right?”
  
  And Giang would respond back that she would try harder. Whenever she would succeed in something like being at the top of her class in awards, she would hear her parents brag to others by saying how proud they were of her. But she never heard them say those words to her face, only to others.
  
  Basically, Giang’s relationship with her parents was strained from her perspective.
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.

 

[floralmoon]

celeste archambeu

2002-2021

A light went out on Earth for me the day we said goodbye and on that day a star was born, the brightest in the sky. Reaching through the darkness with its rays of purest white, lighting up the Heavens as it once lit up my life, with beams of love to heal the broken heart you left behind. Where always in my memory your lovely star will shine.

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  manhattan obituaries

  
  

  Celeste Oceane Archambeau passed away on August 13, 2021 in Manhattan, New York City, NY. She is survived by her father, Jacques Archambeau, her step-mother Nancy Morris Archambeau, her mother Vivenne Dubois Edwards, and her step-father Thomas Edwards. Memorial services will be performed at Greenwich Village Funeral Home on August 15, 2021 at 10:00 am.

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  name

  
  

  Celeste Archambeau

  
  
  

  nickname

  
  

  Cellie, C, Oceane, Archie

  
  
  

  age

  
  

  19

  
  
  

  date of birth

  
  

  October 31, 2002

  
  
  

  date of death

  
  

  August 13, 2021

  
  
  

  gender

  
  

  Female

  
  
  

  normal/helper?

  
  

  Normal

  
  
  

  occupation prior to death

  
  

  unemployed

  
  
  

  occupation now

  
  

  maid

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
• visage
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  eyes

  
  

  grey

  
  
  

  hair

  
  

  black

  
  
  

  weight

  
  

  124

  
  
  

  height

  
  

  5ft4in / 162.6cm

  
  
  

  body type

  
  

  slender

  
  
  

  face claim

  
  

  Megan Fox/Irina Gascha

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
• history
  
  
  
  

  one.

  Celeste never truly understood what it was like to be loved by her family, so she sought out the feeling of love from the people around her. She wasn't one to ever really settle down, bouncing from one house to another, never staying more than two nights. All Celeste wanted was a void to be filled that was left by her parents, they weren't ever really around, especially after their divorce. If there is any way for her to catch the eye of a possible suitor, then she will do it. The emptiness she has, will never be filled, but she sure tried as much as possible while she had the time to.
  
  

  
  

  two.

  On the night of August 13, Celeste was hanging out at one of her many friends-with-benefits apartments. While the two were fooling around, the front door started to unlock, this caused her current fling to freak out. Celeste looked at the girl with panic filled eyes, unsure what to do exactly. Amie, the girl who owned the apartment, starting pushing her to the window, pointing at the fire escape. The two girls flung open the window and Celeste stepped out in a rush, then Amie closed the window right behind her. Unfortunately, little to her fling's knowledge, she lost her footing and fell over the railing of the fire escape, and fell to her death from the third story apartment.
  

  
  

  three.

  After a long investigation, the police determined that the cause of death was suicide, even though this was far from the truth. Celeste's parents became borderline inconsolable, unsure as to where they missed the signs of their daughter feeling this way. They never stopped to think that they weren't around her enough to know that she genuinely never had those kinds of thoughts. Both of her parents and her step-parents came together and decided to sprinkle Celeste's ashes off a boat into the water near her favorite beach growing up in France.
• inside
  
  
  personality

  
  

  Celeste never really played by the rules, if she saw something that she wanted, she would do everything in her power to achieve it. Though this may have it's downfalls, it didn't make a difference to her, she constantly lived her life on the edge. Whether she was way too fucked up on a cocktail of drugs or just sneaking around with people she wasn't supposed to be with, there was always something giving her an adrenaline rush. On the complete opposite of the spectrum though, she was a very kind girl, despite her hard outer shell and vicious attitude. In order to see that side of Celeste, you would have to get very close with her, not just hook-ups and free drugs, but show her that you genuinely care for her and aren't there just for fun.
  

  
  

  
  

  likes

  Grunge aesthetics, heavy music, drugs & alcohol, partying
  

  
  

  dislikes

  being alone, soberiety, the cold, heights
  

  
  

  
  

  family life

  Celeste grew up in a very strict household. She was disciplined from a very young age and was taught right from wrong, with high expectations to live up to. Once she hit her teen years though, she became a loose cannon. She was sneaking out almost every night and would either be drinking or doing drugs, whether it be cocaine, pills, mdma, shrooms, weed, she was all about it. Her need to feel loved started when her parents divorced when she was 9 and they both ended up starting new families, it was as if it was just her at that point. As she got older, her parents slowly started paying more attention to their new families, and ended up leaving Celeste alone at only 16 to fend for herself. This was the catalyst of all the one night stands and flirtatious exchanges with both men and women.
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.

 

[pandagosquish]

bailey dreyers

a loving son, brother, and friend.

2004-2021

I didn't want to speak at your funeral today. I didn't want to believe that these would be the words I said after you were gone. To know that my son died before I did. You were our miracle child, Bailey. I remember when you were little you had all these horses drawn on your walls. In ink. Oh, we were so mad at you, Bailes, we couldn't scrub all of those scribbles off. Then you got your first horse book, and you drew stick figures on that too. Daddy and I were worried that you'd start painting on your horse when we got you one. Frey loves you Bailey. I don't... I don't know how we're gonna tell her that you're gone. I— I'm rambling. Sorry, you know how I get. I hope you're okay up there. You brought such joy to our family and to every life you touched. Mommy loves you.

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• main
  
  
  
  
  

  Exeter Obituaries

  
  

  DREYERS, Bailey Markus, age 17, formerly of Exeter passed away on Thursday, May 20th, 2022. He was a student of Phillips Exeter Academy and was on his high school equestrian team. He lead his team to National Championships and was a beloved student government president. Bailey loved playing football, being in the stables with his horse Frey, and spending time with family and friends on roadtrips. He is survived by his parents Caroline and Markus Dreyers, and his twin sister Allison.

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  name

  
  

  Bailey Markus Dreyers

  
  
  

  nickname

  
  

  Bailes, Bales

  
  
  

  age

  
  

  17

  
  
  

  date of birth

  
  

  May 28th, 2004

  
  
  

  date of death

  
  

  May 20th, 2021

  
  
  

  gender

  
  

  Male

  
  
  

  normal/helper?

  
  

  Normal

  
  
  

  occupation prior to death

  
  

  Full-time student

  
  
  

  occupation now

  
  

  Sales associate

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
• visage
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  eyes

  
  

  answer here

  
  
  

  hair

  
  

  answer here

  
  
  

  weight

  
  

  answer here

  
  
  

  height

  
  

  answer here

  
  
  

  body type

  
  

  answer here

  
  
  

  face claim

  
  

  answer here

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
• history
  
  
  
  

  one.

  Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Morbi nec commodo urna, id maximus odio. Nam porttitor varius porta. Praesent pellentesque dui a sagittis vulputate. Curabitur eget dignissim erat, sed gravida est. Cras et dapibus risus, in elementum neque. Donec ac semper nisl, in tempor neque. Aliquam vitae odio purus. Maecenas porttitor auctor leo, id mattis tellus facilisis sit amet. Proin tincidunt nisi non orci tincidunt hendrerit. Duis sit amet nisl vulputate, vestibulum ligula nec, hendrerit felis. Integer ut consectetur ante. Etiam vestibulum sit amet magna sit amet ornare. Etiam aliquam finibus purus non ultricies. Etiam pretium nisl elit.
  
  

  
  

  two.

  Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Morbi nec commodo urna, id maximus odio. Nam porttitor varius porta. Praesent pellentesque dui a sagittis vulputate. Curabitur eget dignissim erat, sed gravida est. Cras et dapibus risus, in elementum neque. Donec ac semper nisl, in tempor neque. Aliquam vitae odio purus. Maecenas porttitor auctor leo, id mattis tellus facilisis sit amet. Proin tincidunt nisi non orci tincidunt hendrerit. Duis sit amet nisl vulputate, vestibulum ligula nec, hendrerit felis. Integer ut consectetur ante. Etiam vestibulum sit amet magna sit amet ornare. Etiam aliquam finibus purus non ultricies. Etiam pretium nisl elit.
  

  
  

  three.

  Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Morbi nec commodo urna, id maximus odio. Nam porttitor varius porta. Praesent pellentesque dui a sagittis vulputate. Curabitur eget dignissim erat, sed gravida est. Cras et dapibus risus, in elementum neque. Donec ac semper nisl, in tempor neque. Aliquam vitae odio purus. Maecenas porttitor auctor leo, id mattis tellus facilisis sit amet. Proin tincidunt nisi non orci tincidunt hendrerit. Duis sit amet nisl vulputate, vestibulum ligula nec, hendrerit felis. Integer ut consectetur ante. Etiam vestibulum sit amet magna sit amet ornare. Etiam aliquam finibus purus non ultricies. Etiam pretium nisl elit.
• inside
  
  
  personality

  
  

  Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Fusce nunc nisi, sodales sit amet mi eget, consectetur suscipit enim. Vestibulum vehicula nisl a volutpat egestas. Aenean at rhoncus massa. Sed ac sem placerat, pretium purus eget, tempor ligula. Proin pretium interdum diam, et congue justo commodo eu. Sed elit arcu, tempor vel metus sit amet, suscipit rhoncus risus. Fusce maximus sodales tellus. Pellentesque vulputate vestibulum fermentum. Pellentesque ligula nulla, tempor at augue nec, posuere malesuada erat. Proin commodo dictum augue, vel interdum turpis porta ac. Fusce mollis dui diam, at mattis ante luctus non. Sed ac turpis velit. Nunc tempus erat non turpis ornare elementum. Curabitur ut lectus enim. Proin dictum facilisis dui nec ultrices.
  

  
  

  
  

  likes

  Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Fusce nunc nisi, sodales sit amet mi eget, consectetur suscipit enim. Vestibulum vehicula nisl a volutpat egestas. Aenean at rhoncus massa.
  

  
  

  dislikes

  Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Fusce nunc nisi, sodales sit amet mi eget, consectetur suscipit enim. Vestibulum vehicula nisl a volutpat egestas. Aenean at rhoncus massa.
  

  
  

  
  

  family life

  Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Fusce nunc nisi, sodales sit amet mi eget, consectetur suscipit enim. Vestibulum vehicula nisl a volutpat egestas. Aenean at rhoncus massa.
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.

 

[miyabi]

matteo de leon

1994 - 2022

Soy un hombre muy honrado
Que me gusta lo mejor
Las mujeres no me faltan
Ni el dinero, ni el amor
Jineteando en mi caballo
Por la sierra yo me voy
Las estrellas y la luna
Ellas me dicen donde voy

/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.

 

[L3n]

luciano . . . . . . . .
arthur de Barros

laid to rest beside his mother, Cláudia. may they find peace.

1997 - 2019

we were speeding together down the dark avenues. but besides all the stardom all we got was blues. but through all the sorrow we were riding high. and the truth of the matter is I never let you go, let you go. we were scanning the cities walking to greater dues. but besides all the glamour all we got was bruised.

main

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• main
  
  
  
  
  

  Woodcreek obituaries

  
  

  BARROS, Arthur Luciano, age 24, formerly a resident of Woodcreek tragically passed away Saturday, December 16, 2019. Barros faithfully graduated from Creekside High. He was later employed by Woodcreek's local accounting firm, loyally working there for the past 6 years. Neighbors say Barros was taking care of his sick mother, Ana Barros, who passed away days prior. Barros was taking a morning walk when he slipped on ice and fell into Willowcreek River, claimed his neighbors. We advise everyone to stay safe this winter.

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  name

  
  

  Luciano de Barros

  
  
  

  nickname

  
  

  Lucy/Luci

  
  
  

  age

  
  

  24

  
  
  

  date of birth

  
  

  December 21, 1997

  
  
  

  date of death

  
  

  December 16, 2019

  
  
  

  gender

  
  

  male

  
  
  

  normal/helper?

  
  

  helper

  
  
  

  occupation prior to death

  
  

  accountant/stylist

  
  
  

  occupation now

  
  

  hairdresser

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
• visage
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  eyes

  
  

  his eyes have always been deep dark brown, appearing black in both real life and in the in between

  
  
  

  hair

  
  

  dark brown, his hair is long in the back with short face-framing pieces in the front.

  
  
  

  weight

  
  

  71 kgs

  
  
  

  height

  
  

  186 cms (6'1)

  
  
  

  body type

  
  

  slim, mesomorph

  
  
  

  face claim

  
  

  whojunior

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
• history
  
  
  
  

  one.

  trigger warning - religious themes, death, and implied suicide
  
  His childhood apartment smelt like mildew and decay. Its wallpaper was peeling and hidden behind a layer of murk. The air felt thick with bacteria; with the smell of sickness. Arthur didn’t know what his mother was suffering from. Ever since he was a young boy he just knew he had to take care of her. It was just her and him. His mother never spoke of his father, never even told him a name. It was alright though. It’s hard to miss what you've never had.
  
  Arthur built a routine from an early age. He would wipe down his mother with a cloth and rotate her when he first woke up. It was hard to stay comfortable on their worn couch. Then he’d grab his sign and take it to the streets.
  
  Sick mother at home. Please help us eat tonight
  
  It was hard getting money begging in such a poor, rundown neighborhood. The homeless have little to give, and the straight and narrow people wouldn’t come anywhere close to these alleys. Arthur had a step up on the other sign holders though; he was a kid. People would give him stale bread to take to his mother, and loose coins he kept safe in a jar at home until they made a dollar. His mother would smile when she saw he came home safely. Arthur remembered running to the couch every night where she would take his hand and thank the Gods that he came back. “Things will get better, Arthur, I promise you. I’ll get better. We just need to pray a little longer.”
  
  It was taking longer than he thought. Things seemed to be getting worse, too. His mother’s sores were more frequent. Her legs were so weak she could hardly make it to the door. Not to mention they had another mouth to feed. When Arthur got home from begging he found a stray cat on his doorstep. It didn’t make a sound. No meows of hunger, though it was clear they hadn’t eaten, no whines from the cold even though it was freezing outside. The cat was strong. The cat was a survivor, just like Arthur and his mom. So he took them in.
  
  Some days the cat would keep his mother company. Sometimes the cat would go out begging with him. It was nice to have something to keep him warm at night.
  
  
  

  
  

  two.

  Entering high school seemed off the table.
  
  That was until he figured out how to manage the money his mother made from disability. His mother used to give him her card and food stamps for little groceries and toiletries, anything essential. When he got old enough to understand he figured out how to plan and budget. If he managed their money well he could actually go to high school. So he went.
  
  Making friends is hard enough for a normal kid, let alone for a stick of a boy who rarely had the luxury of a shower. He kept to himself. Arthur did his school work efficiently enough to take care of his homework in the same class period. His teachers would pull him aside and offer to move him up. “You’re such a good worker, and you’re so smart. You know I love you in class, but wouldn’t it feel better to be challenged?” Arthur had to decline. If he had to work hard school would bleed into his home life. That would mean he would have to take fewer hours at his part-time job. He couldn’t do it.
  
  Graduating without any parent in the crowd was lonely, but he did it. He could now focus his energy on getting a real job despite his teacher’s efforts to sway him to further his education. (“You can always go to community college, please think about it. You have a real talent for learning. If you need it there’s financial aid and scholarships we can look into.”) Arthur found a position in accounting. That, and taking up a side hustle in styling, allowed him to move his family into a bigger apartment. He held his mother's hands again and she smiled up at him. “You’re so strong, Arthur. Things are getting better. The Gods are finally listening.”
  
  Then his mother died. Arthur did everything right but she still passed away. He gave up everything so she’d have a good long life and it still ended short.
  
  The next few days blurred together. Work, home, sleep. Work, home, sleep. Arthur remembered waking up to the cat licking away his tears as he slept. Arthur couldn’t help but be reminded of his mother. She named the cat, after all. Luciano; the light of their lives. The next day Arthur dropped off the cat at his neighbor's house and took a walk near Willowcreek river.
  
  

  
  

  three.

  Arthur’s story is real.
  
  Luciano begged to experience life on earth, but since he was so young compared to his fellow Angels he got sent down in the form of an animal. The Angel didn’t know how to take care of himself. He wandered the grim and dirty streets night after night until he passed out from hunger. Luciano was taken in by a family, Arthur and Ana Barros. They had so little yet loved each other so much. Their souls were pure.
  
  Every night they’d pray. Luciano would close his eyes too. Soon, he wish he could tell them. Things would get better soon. Good things come to those who wait. They gave what little they had to a stray cat. Arthur worked endlessly, even though he was but a child. Ana gave a human life despite the toll it would take on her already deteriorating health. Good things came to good people.
  
  Just wait mortals, it will be your time soon.
  
  Any day now.
  
  Ana hadn’t moved in a while. Luciano kept pawing at her arm, meowing in her face. Why wouldn’t she wake up?
  
  Arthur came home. Ana was taken away.
  
  Arthur spent the next nights sobbing.
  
  Just wait a little longer. Good things came to those who wait. Good comes to good people.
  
  The next day Arthur didn’t come home again.
  
• inside
  
  
  personality - INTJ-A - the architect

  
  

  
  Punctual, observant, reliable, patient
  Rigid, reserved, restrained, insensitive
  
  Luciano is distant and quiet. If anyone cared about each other in the in-between he might even be called mysterious. His cold eyes and guarded posture are false pretenses and the energy he gives off is it’s dead give away. His voice is soft, like a forehead kiss, and his calm nature has a soothing ripple effect.
  
  Yet no matter how warm he might be he looks untouchable, he feels unreachable. It’s enough to keep people away.
  
  Until they need a haircut.
  
  Or their nails done.
  
  Something about Luciano calls out to people. “Talk to me, tell me your worries.” It might be the hairdresser apron. One-on-one conversations are easier to manage. It’s here within his shop’s walls that you’ll hear his voice the most, just never speaking about himself. He’s built smooth castle walls around his heart and past, not sparing even a crack.
  
  Well, one crack. The only thing known about him is well… religion is a topic best to be avoided. After whatever happened in his “past life” he seems reluctant to trust in any God or the system and world they’ve created.
  
  How much of Luciano’s personality is real is untold.
  
  

  
  

  
  

  likes

  Luciano quite likes poetry, birds, sunsets, rivers, bells, stars, kittens, ink, jewels, fine clothes, daily tasks, and the internet
  

  
  

  dislikes

  Luciano doesn’t care for grime, anything dirty, cockroaches, bugs, furless bears, fish, frogs, rollercoasters, and mortal bodily functions
  

  
  

  
  

  family life

  Luciano, millennia younger than the other Angels, had difficulty connecting with the others. While he spent hundreds of years alive, he did so mostly in solitude. Family was a distant concept. It was made for mortals to find meaning in their short lifespans and encourage them to continue their species. That’s simply all it was until he met Arthur and Ana. They spent 12 years together. He watched over them and they dearly took care of him every day.
  
  He blinked the years by, accidentally.
  
  Luciano should have spent more days living in the “now.” If he knew he would lose them so fast he would have paid more attention. He would have interacted with them more. What was this feeling? Guilt? Heartbreak? It was so foreign and uncannily human.
  
  Their whole lives weren’t even going to be a fraction of his.
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.