@HushedWhispers Alright, finally done! It kind of fell apart at the end, but hopefully, this isn't terrible. Just let me know if I need to change anything!

Wyatt Rothenberg [+]

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“The mind can calculate, but the spirit yearns, and the heart knows what the heart knows.”
-Stephen King

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T H E B A S I C S

|{Name}|

Marion Wyatt Rothenberg
_{(Yeah, yeah, his first name’s Marion, laugh it up.)}

|{Nickname}|

It’s not really a nickname, but one thing’s for certain; he very much prefers to go by Wyatt, or like, any sort of derivative of it. Just please, please - do him a solid and never call him Marion. He has no idea what possessed his parents to name him that, and he dies a little bit inside every time he hears it.

|{Birth Date}|

May 28th, 1989

|{Age}|

26

|{Gender}|

Male

|{Sexuality}|

Grey-romantic Bisexual

|{Sexually Active}|

Yes

|{Relationship Status}|

Single

|{Occupation}|

Most of the time, Wyatt hops from job to job, doing temp work at various factories and furniture places, or anywhere at all, really. But as of the moment, he’s managed to snag a semi-stable position as a record store clerk downtown.
_{(He likes to think it’s just a little something to supplement his income until his career finally evolves from ‘starving artist’ to ‘financially sufficient artist’.)}

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A P P E A R A N C E

|{In Depth Appearance}|

Wyatt stands at a perfectly respectable 6’1”, though with his tendency to slouch, he usually appears a little shorter than he actually is. It’s mostly out of laziness, but his posture is terrible; shoulders rolled forward, hands stuck in his pockets. Pretty much the only time he grows to full height is when he feels threatened, and has been known to be truly terrifying when he does so. Fortunately, however, this side of him is not something his friends see very often - though the same can’t be said for everyone else.

Wyatt’s pretty built, but not overly so. He’d almost have the physique of a swimmer, if he actually put some effort into working out. Really, the only exercise he gets is from his job, though just from looking at him, the merits of a career in manual labour are undeniable.

Most of the time, Wyatt can be seen with a cigarette between his lips, features set in an easy grin. His steel grey eyes always seeming to glitter with something akin to amusement - about what? Even he isn’t sure, and while he used to be a tad insecure about a slightly crooked front tooth, he’s long since gotten past it. He likes to keep his hair cropped close to his head, with clean shaven being his go-to facial decor, but some days, he gets lazy and gives his scruff free rein.

|{Clothing Style}|

“Accidental Hipster” is probably the best way to describe Wyatt. He doesn’t put much effort into keeping up appearances, but somehow, he has a knack for turning his déshabillé to his advantage. When it inevitably gets chilly, he resorts to heavy flannels and/or ugly Christmas sweaters. Paired together with his positively ancient jeans and work boots, the whole effect almost seems to scream “lumberjack”. On warmer days, he basically dresses exactly the same - except instead of hideous, moth-eaten, thrift store sweaters, it’s t-shirts and tank tops.

Wyatt seems to wear a lot of jewelry for a guy, though it’s mostly leather and beaded bracelets, steel rings on his fingers, and again, he’s an expert at making them appear noncommittal. Scarves, on the other hand, they’re just not his thing. The weather in Jersey never seems to get cold enough for them, anyway, so the last thing he needs is to go out and buy a scarf he’s never gonna use. As far as he’s concerned, the layers of the shirts and sweaters and jackets he wears are enough to ward off the cold. Oh, and beanies. Beanies are great for that, too.

|{Scars, Tattoos, Piercings}|

Wyatt doesn’t have any piercings or tattoos, though he used to have his ears pierced. He does, however, have a sizeable scar (already healed) of about two to three inches under his right eye, stretching from the top of his ear, and another, smaller one vertically through the eyebrow. They were from a fight he’d gotten into a couple years back, where he ended up with the pointy end of a broken bottle to the face.

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G E T T I N G T O K N O W M E

|{Likes & Dislikes}|

✔Horchata
✔Cigarettes
✔Dogs
✔Oil paints
✔Rain
✔Bad puns
✔Joy Division

✘Traffic
✘Job interviews
✘Getting up early
✘Lattés
✘Dubstep
✘Lizard
✘Two-facedness

|{Hobbies}|

• Contrary to popular belief, Wyatt’s actually quite the artist. While he’s never had much for it in the way of formal education, he has something of an affinity for the craft.
• Getting absolutely shitfaced.
• He’s a sucker for reality TV. Sitting on the couch watching reruns of The Real Housewives is his idea of a great Sunday night.

|{Habits}|

• Smoking. It keeps him from getting jittery, and while he’s been trying to cut down, it isn’t going very well.
• Wyatt scratches the side of his head when nervous, which is actually something he finds annoying whenever he realises he’s doing it.
• Cracking his knuckles. Who cares about arthritis, right?

|{Fears}|

☠Getting stuck doing the same, shitty jobs for the rest of his life.
☠Losing his parents.
☠Letting his anger get the better of him.

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D E L V I N G D E E P E R

|{Personality}|

♦ Genuine ♦ Dedicated ♦ Abrasive ♦ Neurotic ♦

To say that Wyatt doesn’t beat around the bush is a huge understatement. He says what he thinks and will rarely sugarcoat his answers to win people over. He’s never uncomfortable; in fact, his boldness often verges on brash and crosses into downright crude, thanks to his lack of a filter. If he likes something, he'll let you know it, and if he doesn't, well, he's never been shy about voicing his opinion in that matter either. Try as he might, Wyatt's never really had the best poker face in the world, and it tends to give him away, more often than not.

While he isn’t purposely malicious, he does have an explosive temper when crossed, and he’s the kind of person who would rather start throwing punches than hash things out. With that taken into consideration, it’s very easy to peg him for a textbook case of Small Dog Syndrome, despite his not at all diminutive stature. It’s more a matter of principle, and if there’s one thing he can’t stand, it’s being talked down to. Of course, this isn’t to say he’s all bad, just that he’s hard to like. He does have a few soft spots here and there, even if they aren’t exactly the easiest things to find.

Yet for all his flaws, he’s never met a boundary he wouldn’t cross, and he’ll go to the absolute ends of the Earth for you if he thinks you’re worth it. Wyatt is, by nature, extremely impulsive, both in the things he does and says. As far as he’s concerned, life’s too short to just sit around and let shit happen. He often states that no one should take life too seriously because in the end, everyone ends up in the same place - even if he doesn’t believe what he’s preaching. At the very core of his personality, Wyatt is kind of a bleeding heart, and he often puts the needs of others above his own.

|{Place Of Origin}|

Trenton, New Jersey

|{History}|

Born in the Garden State of New Jersey, Wyatt began life in a small, three-bedroom home with his parents, brothers and sisters. The oldest of five children, he was always the most aware of how tight money was, how hard their parents worked trying to make ends meet, and how their every waking moment was spent thinking about how they were going to pay rent the very next week. That, of course, left the young Wyatt to take care of his siblings while Mr. and Mrs. Rothenberg were away, and he was a good sport about it, too - never fussing, never complaining - at least up until middle school, anyway.

In school, he struggled, both academically and socially, though if he had to be honest, he saw that shit coming from a mile away. As his grades slipped, his frustration grew, and soon, he began to take his anger out on the people around him. There were too many things about him that could be picked on for his liking, and so he grew louder, more boisterous and was forever throwing the first punch in a fight. You had to be living under a rock to not know his name, in fact. And Wyatt loved every second of it, no matter how many times he was sent to the principal’s office, knuckles bruised and bleeding.

Unsurprisingly, everyone was divided when it came to Wyatt - you either loved or hated him, and oddly enough, he was okay with that. It put him on the map and gave him the attention he craved; the attention he lacked. Back home, his father would yell, and his mother would cry, wondering just what happened to their good, little boy. It was a good thing the principal claimed he had so much potential, if only he “channeled his energy appropriately” - whatever that meant.

This continued all the way until freshman year of high school, but before he could go any further down this path, the then fourteen year-old Wyatt finally found what this so-called conduit was when one day, his art teacher sat him down for an after-school talk.

It was a sobering message, coming from the unlikeliest of places, and it caught him off guard. While he never did fare well in structured classroom settings, Wyatt had taken to art class like a duck to water, even if he didn’t quite realise it.

Slowly but surely, he opened up to Mrs. Wilkes - a little reluctantly, at first - though every one of these talks took away a tiny bit of rage with them. The process was gradual, almost painfully slow at times, but while there weren’t any soap opera-esque miracles, just having someone to confide in was enough for him to get his shit together.

...Well, kind of together, at least.

With some effort, he managed to get through high school, and all things considered, it was actually an okay experience. He made some friends, passed his classes, even managing to squeeze in some time to practice his art. Of course, this was only possible as his siblings got older, and by graduation, he’d gotten himself a decent GPA, and a partial art scholarship.

It was inevitable, really, but after a semester, Wyatt had to drop out due to outstanding tuition fees. Even with a scholarship, financial aid, and a part-time job, his parents just weren’t making enough money to put him through college, and he set about finding a more stable career.

Wyatt’s interest in art was pushed to the back of his mind as he settled into a routine of menial, mind-numbing work, though he never lets himself forget about it completely. It’s always nagging at him, a ceaseless skittering under his skin, and whenever he finds the time to spare, there’s nothing he’d rather do than pick up a brush, and watch vibrant hues splash across canvas.

|{Extra}|

My family doesn’t celebrate Christmas, but I’d say my favourite thing is probably going out to dinner with friends.

|{Theme Song}|

Ride – twenty one pilots
_{“Yeah, I think about the end just way too much
But it's fun to fantasize
On my enemies I wouldn't wish who I was
But it's fun to fantasize”}

<Snipped quote by GoddessSophia>

noooo Mari's first post should probably be a collab with Leo. They would probably travel together, after all