Richard Maddox

[Richard Maddox]

Richard Maddox
FACE CLAIM: Jamie Dornan
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AGE: Born October 13, 1981. (35)
GENDER: Male
ORIENTATION: Demisexual?
POSITION: Novelist

POWER: None

LIMITATIONS: None

SIDE-EFFECTS: None


HEIGHT: 6 feet, 6 inches
HAIR COLOR: Brown
EYE COLOR: Blue

MISC:
-scar along the left side of his jaw


PERSONALITY:

Cold. Cold to the touch. Cold to the bone. Cold to the heart. A walking man of ice. Richard is a silent still winter. No howling winds. No angry clouds. No frenzied blizzards. Only the eerie quiet and frozen crystals. It is like all life in him has gone still in waiting. Hoping desperately for a spring that may never come. The cold is in control.

Blue. Blue like the rain. Blue like a tear. Blue like the night sky. The only shade of color that makes up his life. Richard's life is covered in blue. Maybe different hues, but blue all the same. The color of calm. The color of sadness. Other colors must fight past it to gain Richard's attention, or drown in the sea it's created.

Bitter. Bitter like kale. Bitter like resentment. Bitter like disappointment. Richard is neither sour nor sweet. It is rare for any flavour to suite him. Often he's called bland. Not often does he care. He is his own blend, but bitter comes closest.

SECRET(S): None


FATHER: Drake
MOTHER: Milea
SIBLINGS: Arthur, Christopher, Margery
WORTHY MENTIONS: None

CHILDHOOD:

Richard did not grow up in a loving home. Not a home with love for him. Always the black sheep. Always the odd man out. The third of four children. The lurking shadow. The lone wanderer. The extra mouth to feed. Richard was ignored. In due time, he learned to ignore in return. Isolation became his comfort. Loneliness, his friend. With nothing else to entertain him but his thoughts, Richard fell into his imagination.

Worlds rose and fell according to whatever his childish mind came up with. Unlike his reality, they were vibrant and lively. Colors of every sort. Creatures of every kind. Stories of every genre. He much preferred those worlds which were under his control. Yet despite his outcast rank he was still forced to partake in society. Namely school. He took no joy from it, but did as he was bid. Anything to divert his parents' attentions from him. He'd grown used to the absence.

ADOLESCENCE:

Years came. Years went. Richard aged and stayed withdrawn. He was too used to his isolation. Too used to the peaceful quiet that had become his life. He became colder. More distant. More aloof. More standoffish. His reality consisted of greys and blues, with only the most fleeting passing of other colors. In contrast his imaginary worlds only grew all the brighter. More sporadic in color. Each hue held a tale. Each shade told a feeling. A feeling Richard couldn't display anymore, it seemed.

Socially Richard died. Academically Richard thrived. The only ones to take notice realized the still beating heart through his writing. His english teachers could see hints of the vibrant shades buried beneath all the blue. The real emotion so stuffed down and locked up tight. He had a heart that spilled every time he put pencil to paper. Each word came deep from that mysterious mind and evasive soul. Richard's works were the very essence of his being. There was nothing else to him anymore.

ADULTHOOD:

More years came. More years went. Once again the unwanted attention of his parents was placed upon him. Submissively obedient, Richard attended university. Satisfied, they bothered him no longer. Alone again, Richard continued as he always had. Stay silent. Stay distant. Keep writing. Keep dreaming. His routine was perfect like a well oiled machine. He knew exactly what to do. His reality had settled into a peaceful endless blue. Yet abruptly there came a disruption. A question.  Would he publish? Fascinated by the outpouring of his heart, one teacher brought another color into the sea of blue. Would he publish? Unused to the encouragement, Richard was for once unsure. Days passed before he gave an answer.

Yes. Under another name. Dimitri Law. A reference to the very beginning. A reference no one else would ever know. Satisfied, he published. Surprisingly, he pleased. His stories became well known. His worlds fantastical. His characters complex, and according to some relate-able. Still he kept to the shadows. Still he shied from the attention. It had never done him good. He'd survived so long without it. Why would he want it now? He remained as he always was. Silent. Distant. Cold. He graduated university, and left.

Yet now things were different. Now he was successful. Now he was noticed. No longer was he the black sheep of the family. Smiles he had never seen before were thrown his way so oddly. Kind words were directed at him so strangely. His discomfort grew, and the blue of his being was mingled with red. He fled. Ran away from the house that held nothing for him. Ran away from the people insisting he was now family when he'd been rejected that title all his life. His reality became the lie, and his worlds the truth.

Fate found him in a small city. The noise was stark against his silence. The diversity jarring against his blandness. He was an outsider once again. Yet this time no one took notice. He was lost. Forgotten. Blending into the sea of faces surrounding him. Now truly well enough alone, Richard was content. Almost happy. He didn't have to worry about attention. He could fade to the background. No one would notice. No one would care. He was free to write and lose himself in his own world yet again. Only this time nothing would stop him.

SAMPLE:

It was dark. Dimitri couldn't see anything past the light his torch gave off. All around him came the dripping and trickling sounds of water. He could practically taste the air the moisture was so thick. It had to be raining outside.

Yet he was getting distracted. He couldn't. Not down here. His grip on the torch grew harder, his shuffle into the darkness slower. He wanted to run. The longer he stood there, the more dangerous it got. But running was just as foolhardy. Rushing ahead could very well end in his death. In fact running ahead most likely would end in his death. It wasn't something he wanted to experience. Especially not right now.

The next few minutes were paved with slow creeping as Dimitri progressed through the eerie tunnel. Each second was characterized by the tense feeling throughout every bone in his body. He could swear there were eyes on him. Something had to be there. Right out of sight. Right where it could see him but he couldn't. Yet no matter how many times he stopped and turned his head: nothing. Only more oppressive darkness. There were no eyes reflecting his meager light. He was completely alone. Or so he thought.

Through the pitter-patter of flowing water, he knew he heard something. A skittering something close to his feet. Was it a rat? Was it an animal? Surely it couldn't be anyone. This place had been abandoned for centuries. He could see that through the vegetation stubbornly growing from every crack along the stone of the walls and floors. Nothing human would be alive down here. But his mind was starting to play tricks on him. The darkness was starting to swirl and form shapes out of the corners of his eyes. The uneasy feeling that he was not alone grew ever stronger. Suddenly he found himself questioning.

Nothing human would be alive down here. Right?

USERNAME: Rick

AGE GROUP: 30s

EXPERIENCE: 8 Years

WHERE DID YOU FIND US? RPG-D

[Mel *]

Welcome to the BA, Rick!
Don't forget to do your CLAIMS and remember to have loads of fun!