Blake

A small place for me to get my thoughts out I can barely write I have no idea how to use tumblr.

[blake-micheal-buckley]

Video game idea:

THE LAST SAINT

A Dark Fantasy Action-RPG Concept

---

OVERVIEW

Title: The Last Saint or something like tha t

Genre: Action RPG with Romance/Drama elements

Platform: Xbox or switch

Rating: M (Mature)

---

Idea

Players control Aldric (name needs work), a young knight who must travel back in time to prevent a tragedy that has already occurred. The game weaves between two timelines:

The Present (200 years post-invasion): A ruined kingdom under the demon king's (I couldn’t figure out a better name) shadow. Exploration, survival horror elements, and uncovering the truth.

The Past (3 months before the invasion): Court intrigue, romance, building reputation, and attempting to change history.

---

CHARACTERS

Aldric Vale (Player Character)

· Age: 17 (at start)

· Personality: Aggressive, smug, ambitious, arrogant, violently competitive, but hiding deep insecurity and a desperate need for perfection

· Background: A prodigy knight who rose too young

· Combat Style: Aggressive melee with sword/shield, later gains dark magic abilities? Clerical powers. She’s an atheist so the power comes from self.

Rosaline (Juliana is also a cute name)

· Age: 16 (frozen in time, 255)

· Personality: Sensitive, spoiled, attention-starved, secretly desperate for genuine connection.

· Appearance: Petite, feminine, beautiful in a soft way. Pink/emerald gowns, elaborate hairstyles. (So femme because

· Arc: From bratty princess to broken girl to someone who might actually become the saint everyone believes she is

The Shadow (Voice in Aldric's head)

· The "good" fragment of the demon king

· Guides Aldric through time travel mechanics

· Speaks cryptically, occasionally shows dark humor

· Actually cares about Rosaline in a twisted, paternal way

The Demon King (True Form)

· A colossal skeletal entity wrapped in muscle and rotting flesh

· Chained beneath the castle for centuries

· Goal: Break free and consume all life

· Not evil in the traditional sense—more like a force of nature that has lost all humanity

Elara (Rosaline's Sister)

· The "golden child"

· Was supposed to save the kingdom

· Vanished without a trace

· Her fate is one of the game's central mysteries

---

GAMEPLAY MECHANICS

Dual Timeline System

· Present Timeline: Survival horror exploration. Resources are scarce. Combat is desperate. The environment tells the story of the fall.

· Past Timeline: Social simulation/RPG. Build reputation, attend events, form relationships. Light combat against minor threats. The clock is always ticking toward the invasion.

Reputation System

In the past, your actions determine how the court perceives you:

· Combat Reputation: Win duels, protect caravans, hunt monsters, engage in hyrule warriors like combat

· Social Reputation: Attend events, make allies, romance options

· Mystery Reputation: Investigate the growing darkness, uncover secrets

· Must reach high enough reputation to get invited to the Grand Ball (where you meet Rosaline)

Combat System

· Present: Weighty, punishing Souls-like combat. The black blade is your primary weapon. Can be upgraded with monster drops. Like in Elden ring.

· Past: Lighter, more cinematic combat. Focus on duels and skirmishes.

· True Form Boss: The demon king fight is a multi-phase battle. 1/8 of his health bar is a 3+ hour slog—the game makes you feel the hopelessness.

Time Travel Mechanics

· The Shadow sends you back at key story moments

· Failure locks you into Aron Vale's life (Game Over)

· Success creates ripples in the present timeline

---

CHAPTER STRUCTURE

Prologue: Present timeline. Aldric crosses the 25 miles, finds Rosaline, discovers the true form. Dies. Meets the Shadow.

Act I: The Soldier's Life (Past)

· Wake up as Aron Vale

· Build reputation in the capital

· Investigate rumors of growing darkness

· Meet the court, including Rosaline

· First major choice: Pursue power or pursue connection?

Act II: The Grand Ball (Past)

· Attend the party

· Dance with Rosaline

· Kiss her. Convince her to run away in a mini game.

· Flee the castle together

· The evil stirs. First signs of the coming invasion.

Act III: The Spring (Past)

· Travel to the hidden spring

· Convince Rosaline to drink

· She gains abilities, but begins to change

· The demon king arrives early (choice/consequence trigger)

Act IV: The Fall (Present/Past Convergence)

· Timeline fractures

· Fight through both eras simultaneously

· Protect Rosaline as she learns to use her power

· Face the true form of the demon king

· Final battle: Aldric + Rosaline vs. the Colossus

Epilogue: The kingdom is saved. Help rebuild and help Rosaline in becoming queen

---

AESTHETICS & TONE

Visual Style:

· Gothic cathedral architecture mixed with decaying fantasy

· Past timeline: spring colors. The castle shouldn’t look as dark as it typically does

· Present timeline: Desaturated, cold, oppressive shadows

· The spring: Ethereal, glowing, almost painful to look at

Music:

· Hymns and choral pieces mixed with battle strings

· Rosaline's theme: A simple lullaby that gets progressively more complex

· The demon king's theme: Deep, grinding, almost architectural—like stone moving against stone

Tone:

· Dark, romantic, melancholic

· Questions faith, destiny, and the weight of expectation

· Ultimately hopeful, but the hope is hard-won

---

KEY THEMES

· The Gap Between Perception and Reality: Everyone sees Rosaline as a saint.

· The Weight of Love: Aldric loves an ideal. He must learn to love a person.

· Free Will vs. Destiny: Is she destined to be a saint, or does she choose it?

· Sacrifice and Acceptance: Sometimes saving someone means letting them become what they need to be, even if it's not what you want.

---

DEVELOPMENT NOTES

· The game should feel bleak in the present timeline (winter)

· The past timeline should feel bright and hopeful, with creeping dread beneath the surface (late spring) (Rosalines first love)

· Romance mechanics should be organic, not checklist-based

· The demon king fight should be exhausting—players should feel like they've been through a war

· Multiple playthroughs are encouraged; hidden content reveals more about Rosaline, Aron, the shadow, and the growth of the kingdom

[blake-micheal-buckley]

Little picture I drew during rehearsal >O<

How redwood and redrobin will be introduced in one of my comics before using the literary device to explain everything that happens

[blake-micheal-buckley]

After loading the last box Sam flexed under his oversized faded Metallica shirt. One of the only perks of this job was his shoulders were finally staring to lean out.

He’d been at the docks since midnight-long enough to feel the pain seeping in. The issue is he doesn’t have any pills right now.

Sam swallowed, preparing for the most stressful part of the night: asking for payment.

It’s not like he wasn’t used to doing shady shit. He’d been doing shady shit since he was 16 sitting in the back of a laundering mat high off his ass.

Sam took a deep breath as he rounded the corner where Connor would be waiting. Connor acted like he knew everything even if he was just some annoying ass 24 year old on a power trip.

“Okay Connor, I loaded the shipment tonight, last night, and Tuesday. It’s time for my cash.” Sam sighed, rolling his shoulders back and folding his arms.

Connor looked up, he was sitting in a lawn chair with a cigarette between his fingers and counting money deliberately slow. That damn smirk was on his face again.

Sam was b visibly having to stop himself from wrinkling his nose.

“Here bud, don’t spend it all in one place…” Connor sneered as he sat back.

Sam snatched it, hunched over, and turned away, immediately counting the cash. He knew Connor’s dumbass was a lair.

“It’s two dollars short,” Sam said turning his head, eyes hardened.

Connor looked him up and down confused, “why do you need two dollars that bad?”

Sam turned back around, brow furrowed, trying to come up with a reason. Then he got all up in his face, “in. case. I. want. Gum.”

Connor didn’t flinch but his nose wrinkled. “Yeah you need gum,” he muttered as he reached for his wallet.

Sam’s shoulders fell as he looked left and right- making sure no one else saw that. As he waited he decided to zip up his black SHEIN hoodie-thinking it made him look though.

Connor pulled out two crumpled ones. Sam grabbed at them, shoved them in his pocket, flipped his hoodie up and didn’t say goodbye. He did however mutter the f-slur under his breath.

He shuffled into his into his 2013 Toyota Corolla. As soon as he started the car his aux blared: “GIMME GIMME MORE GIMME MORE”

Sam scrambled to turn it off. Once it was off he heard Connor’s bitch ass laughing. Sam didn’t even bother trying to put in a new cd, he just sped off.

Once he was far enough from Connor he turned it back up enough to sing along to.

He was now debating whether he wanted to go get more pain meds, stop at a bodega or go home.

As he came up on a red light he saw a green and red figure on the motor bike next to him. He had to do a double take.

Oh. It’s the little one.

That kid is like Sadie’s age. His ass is WAY too young to be driving. No good parent would ever leave their kid unattended in this hellhole. Where the hell is this kids dad?

…

Where the hell was Sadie’s dad?

…

Where the hell was her brother?

That thought made him choose to go straight home.

[blake-micheal-buckley]

POV: I drew Rosie from the story a few weeks ago

I realize it lowk looks like freak art 😰

(It’s not) I also have to prepare all my choir music for the year so I’ve been a bit too busy to write

[blake-micheal-buckley]

Amore was three hours into practicing his mannerisms in the mirror when he imagined the house. It was on a Mediterranean beach. It smelled of lavender and coffee. He imagined it light blue with white accents, two stories tall, with a kitchen that always smelled like cookies. The walls had many pictures—not the cold portraits of his real home, but soft, candid photographs.

Amore was thirteen when he built the family in his head. He was lonely in a way that couldn't be expressed, and the more his parents left him alone, the more he noticed the people on TV—the people who danced, sang, and acted. Those people, who seemed more alive than anyone, fed him more than his real life ever could.

So he made them his own.

The grandfather was Tim Curry.

Of course, he'd seen Rocky Horror Picture Show—that was the movie that changed everything when he was ten. He knew every line and every note. He'd seen one interview late at night and used it as his basis. He'd assumed Curry was like a kinder version of Frank N. Furter—glamorous and proud to be himself. He was bold and bright. Amore wasn't sure if he was actually like that. In Amore's head, he was the perfect uncle. He wore silk pajamas and had breakfast on the beach every morning. He would hold his hand and walk along the coast. When Amore had a bad day, he would have someone to give him a hug.

The mom was Mrs. Ae-cha.

This was the easiest choice. He'd known her for years. He knew what it was like to have his soul warmed by her. She was everything he wanted and more. She was nice. She paid attention. She made him new foods. She made him feel special. He wanted to be in Yuna's place—to actually be her special person. So that he could have someone light up when he walked through the door. Someone to make a dinner that was actually made with love. Someone to help him with his schoolwork.

The dad was Freddie Mercury.

Amore discovered Queen a year after he saw Rocky Horror. He knew Freddie performed, and he acted flamboyant. Amore assumed he was like him. That led him to see Freddie as his kin. Freddie was different too. Amore wasn't old enough to understand what "Somebody to Love" was about. He just decided that Freddie could be his someone to love. He wouldn't be cold or distant like his real father, Henri. He would be cool and nice. He would take him on bike rides. He would do sidewalk chalk with him.

The aunt was Susan Sarandon.

He'd seen her as Janet. He'd seen her interviews. She seemed really nice. He imagined her as a cool aunt. She would live in NYC or somewhere classy but visit often, always bringing cool gifts. She understood that he was odd because she was odd too. She would be like a cool older sister letting him do whatever. Maybe buying him miniskirts or taking him to the cabaret.

They were his yume family. He had been watching a show about Japanese people when he learned it meant dream. He liked the way it fit in his mouth. They were his dream family. They were warm, caring, and his.

He knew they weren't real. He wasn't crazy. But at night, when he was alone in his princess room and needed someone to tell him he was perfect the way he was, they were there.

One night he lay in his pink silk bed holding a pillow. It had been a hard day. His parents had come back from a trip to Iraq, but they wouldn't let him hug them.

So he retreated to a place where he could hug whoever he wanted.

He imagined waking up in a bed similar to his—a canopy, but less ornate. He could look out the window, see the overcast sky, and smile. As he ran down the stairs in his pajamas, the boards would creak. When he reached the bottom, Freddie would shout, "Good morning, party man!" And Mrs. Ae-cha would be cooking breakfast. She would turn around and ask him to go get the condensed milk from Uncle Tim.

This meant Amore would have to go find him. He searched all around the house. He started with the living room. It was small and cozy, with white-painted walls and blue couches. There he found Auntie Susan lying on his father's chaise.

"Auntie Susan, you're back!" he said as he quickly padded over and hugged her.

"Amore ? Bébé, tu dois arrêter de faire semblant. Ce n'est pas sain du tout?" she said in Amore's native tongue.

"Amore? Baby, it's so good to see you again. Do you need something right now?"

Amore looked up at her, smiled, and explained why he needed to find his uncle.

She seemed puzzled by his whereabouts too. "Quel oncle ? Tes seuls oncles vivent dans. des villes à travers le monde…"

"Your uncle? He might be in the sunroom, considering the time. I doubt he'd give you the ingredients that easily though…"

Amore smiled and ran there.

As per usual, it was an overcast day. Unlike Prince, Amore really enjoyed days like this. The first place he checked was the sunroom.

However, the only person he found there was his father. He seemed to be drinking vodka on his day off.

Amore leaned on a support beam. "Hey, Papa. Have you seen Uncle Tim?"

Freddie put his arm under his chin. "Salut Amore... non non non, c'est vraiment bizarre. Qu'est-ce qui ne va pas chez toi ???"

("Hello amore. Oh no no no, I haven't seen him. That's kind of odd. Maybe he's on the beach.")

Amore didn't say anything and kept walking.

As soon as he got outside, he saw him on the horizon. He began to run as fast as possible toward him. However, time seemed to slow just as he was twenty feet away from Tim.

Tim looked at him sorrowfully and turned around.

Once inside the black hole, it was pitch black and he was all alone. The void seemed to go on forever.

Then he fell and kept falling.

He woke with a jolt. All alone in his pink princess bed, with no one to love him at all.

It all ended so abruptly. He didn't remember doing anything wrong. He wanted to go back in, but he couldn't. He got up and opened the French doors of his veranda and looked outside.

[blake-micheal-buckley]

This might be trash because I wrote it a month ago and I don’t remember it but I really wanted to get it out

The Waffle House uniform sat on the living room floor, spilling out of Sam's work bag. The yellow lamp above flickered in a shuddering, three-beat rhythm, casting jaundice shadows.

On the map, the trailer sat on the outskirts of the Gotham City Narrows. To anyone who lived there, it was just the trailer park five miles from the bridge to Wayne Manor. Being barely inside the city limits, the GCPD didn't really care for it, but Sam's uniform still smelled of copper smog.

Inside the trailer, Sadie sat at the laminate dinette table, color-coding her school supplies. It was September, meaning school would start back again soon—a blessing. She was eleven, small for her age, with a curtain of straight blonde hair that she kept in a high ponytail "like Ariana Grande."

"Sam! If you touch my new pens again, I'll fry the Xbox!" she called out, not looking up. She was working on making her new pencil pouch look perfect. If her life was a bit of a disaster, her backpack was going to be cute.

From the couch, a groan echoed. Sam emerged, rubbing a hand over his face. At nineteen, he looked less like an adult and more like a kid who didn't know what he was doing. So, accurate. His blonde hair was cut into a David Sylvian style—long, tangled, layered. Under this, his eyes were underscored by dark, exhausted bruises, which was okay in his mind because it looked like natural eye shadow. On his lower abdomen sat a slightly faded succubus tattoo, essentially a front tramp stamp from a dare the week after he turned eighteen. He had the distinct, unmistakable aura of a loser older brother who spent too much time in alleys and gas stations.

"First of all, I don't use your pens. Second of all, the Xbox is already broken, so jokes on you," Sam muttered, his voice a gravelly yawn. He dragged his feet across the linoleum, reaching into the fridge to pull out a single, sweating plastic bottle of chocolate milk. He cracked it open and took a long swig straight from the carton.

"Hey! Don't drink it all! That's for my breakfast!" Sadie yelled. "…Also, Miss Henderson asked why my emergency contact sheet still lists a disconnected number. I told her you were 'in negotiations' with the telecom company. I think she thinks we're eccentric millionaires."

"Yeah? Good. Keep 'em guessing," Sam said, dabbing his hands on his face again. He reached into his pocket and tossed a crumpled twenty next to her. "Found that in the couch. So when the snow cone truck comes to your school, you can afford to get yourself one this time and the next few times."

Sadie unwadded the cash, looked surprised, but then let her mask fall back into place. "Wow. Twenty whole dollars. Are we buying real estate, or did you finally get promoted to 'Assistant to the Manager' at Waffle House?"

"Hey, respect the apron. It keeps you fed," Sam said, looking up at her.

But Sadie knew the math. Twenty dollars didn't come from Waffle House, not when Sam's paycheck barely covered the propane to keep the water lukewarm. She looked at the faint, fresh scrape across his knuckles. Don't mess with a suspicious sixth grader.

But she knew better than to ask. Sam would just lie to her face if she did.

"You're an idiot," she whispered, turning back to her solar system. "If you get caught, they'll send me to some group home in Blüdhaven, and I'll probably never see you again."

Sam's posture shifted. The lazy, slouching loser brother vanished for a split second, replaced by something fierce and protective. He grew up worrying, and he didn't need her to. He crossed the small space and leaned over the table, placing a hand gently on top of her head.

"Hey. Look at me."

Sadie kept her eyes fixed on the binder she was working on.

"Sadie. Look at me. Now."

She sighed, tilting her head up.

"Nobody is sending you anywhere," Sam said, his voice entirely devoid of its usual irony. He didn't really know what to say.

She wanted to say something cutting. Something that would make him laugh and ruffle her hair and tell her not to worry about it, that he'd figure it out, because he always figured it out. But the last time he'd said that, they'd eaten ketchup sandwiches for dinner four days straight.

"Has anything bad happened before? That I couldn't solve?"

"No…"

"Have I ever not taken care of you?"

"No…"

"And that's not going to be any different today. Or tomorrow."

Sam smiled, stepping back. He checked the cracked face of his watch. 8:45 PM. His shift at Waffle House started at nine, and then he had to "meet a guy" behind the old chemical refinery at 2:00 AM. "I gotta go. Lock the deadbolt and use the chain. If anyone knocks and says they're the landlord, tell them I died of scurvy."

"And if your 'girlfriend' calls?" Sadie asked, throwing up air quotes.

Sam paused at the door, a faint, complicated smirk crossing his face. "Tell her I'll call her when I'm off the clock."

"She's not real, Sam! You've been 'dating' her for six months and she hasn't even—" Sadie yelled as he opened the door.

"I LOVE YOU, SADIE. BYE!" Sam shouted back over his shoulder, stepping out into the cool, damp Gotham night.

The door clicked shut, and Sadie immediately jumped up to slide the heavy metal deadbolt into place, followed by the chain. She stood by the window, watching her brother's skinny frame recede down the dirt path, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, his blonde hair catching in the sickly yellow porch light.

She knew the girlfriend wasn't real. Sadie knew a lot of things she wasn't supposed to know. She knew the rent was three weeks late. She knew the water pressure was dropping because the main pipe down the road was leaking rust.

But as she walked back to the table, she picked up the crumpled twenty-dollar bill and carefully folded it into a tiny, perfect triangle, sliding it into the secret zippered compartment of her Minecraft backpack that she hopefully wouldn't get made fun of.

Inside the trailer, Sadie picked up her purple gel pen and went back to drawing stars on her composition notebook.

[bitter-rayjay]

[blake-micheal-buckley]

Amore was 10 years old when he started piano lessons. At the time he was small for his age, quiet, and a little judgy. However his bravado always seemed to disappear on the train.

The subway always made him nervous. His mom used to hold his hand on it, soft hands wrapped around his. That was before she grew cold and was constantly in other counties.

He also wasn’t quite sure what the lessons would be like. He kicked his feet around as he imagined it. Probably some old lady being cold and aloof.

He chewed on his lower lip as his nanny took him to the lessons.

He was so incredibly surprised when a small 40-year-old Korean woman opened the door to an apartment that smelled of vanilla, espresso and something warm or motherly. She had soft hands and a softer voice that made him lean in to listen. Her presence was calming. With every Amore-ya he seemed to ease into her presence.

He attended piano lessons every Tuesday and Thursday from four to six. Twice a week next to Mrs. Ae-cha on the piano bench. Every time she would laugh and his heart would ache hungrily.

He had been going for a month when she mentioned her daughter. She was a senior in high school at some private school. He hadn’t thought much of it at the time.

Mrs. Ae-cha was everything he wanted in a mother and more-kind, warm, and loving. She noticed when he was sad, tired or excited. She fed him after practice and walked him home when his nanny wanted him to walk across Paris alone.

He thought about holding her hand but he didn’t want to make it weird.

One day, after about three years, he was eating a rice cake post lesson when he met Yuna. Apparently she had come home from university for the week to visit. Mrs. Ae-cha lit up around her in a way she had never done for Amore. He knew he was a background character when she walked through the door and said, “Oh, who’s this?”

She hadn’t talked about him.

Mrs. Ae-cha introduced them and quickly then turned around to talk to Yuna. Amore just watched them as Ae-cha handed her daughter a moon-shaped rice cake and took her hand in hers. She looked at Yuna like she was the center of the world.

He sat watching them as his rice cake went cold. He wasn’t really sure what to do because he didn’t want to interrupt her and her real child.

He quickly said his goodbyes and ran to the subway.

He finally quit running when he reached his train car. He pressed his back against the seat, brought his knees up, then tried to catch his breath. He gave up about one minute into the ride home and began to sob.

[blake-micheal-buckley]

Rosie closed Instagram and got up to walk to the Switch. But she paused halfway through the room.

It was 10 p.m. in Gotham City. Twenty minutes earlier, Rosie was, at 10:27, sitting on her couch hating her life. Her thumb had held on Makenzie's story. She was at an aesthetic coffee shop on campus. She was always doing something cute. That latte in her hands had to be $11. That was how much she made in half an hour.

She'd promised herself she'd play Stardew at 10:12. It was now 10:37, and she'd spent twenty-five minutes watching other people live.

Rosie looked at her phone. Samantha's message: "You seemed off last time. You okay?"

She wasn't sure how to say she was watching all her friends from high school live amazing lives at university.

While thinking of things to say she looked at the cosmetology license on the wall and turned around. She did not wanna see the thing that was doing nothing to keep her out of poverty.

She knew she probably needed to get off her ass and wash the dishes, but Samantha texted.

Speaking of Samantha, she had started typing again. Rosie looked up at the TV as she waited for her. Adults watch the news.

Apparently the mysterious man who helped defeat the Rat King just stopped a robbery. God, he was so sexy... even if he went out dressed as a bat.

Maybe he'd come save her from this hell later. She'd be in a bomb threat or something, and he'd carry her away bridal style. Yeah, right. For a sexy journalist or politician, not a broke cosmetologist. Or a real adult. Who does adult things.

Honestly ignoring your friends is more childish than watching GNN will ever be.

Samantha stopped typing. Rosie wanted to lie to her face and say she was fine. She was a good liar because she was always doing it.

Then Samantha asked if she wanted to get coffee.

[blake-micheal-buckley]

Writing concerts II

Coming up with things as a write…

I would love a story about a very popular rock band.

First two members and extra person:

1. David, the singer. Growing up, Davids parents wanted a star; they wanted a perfect front man. He was born into a wealthy family in New York and was forced to learn performance. All throughout his childhood was dance, performance and singing lessons. That is the harsh reality for many rock stars. When he graduated 8th grade, his parants sent him to a musical high school. Instead of learning standard algebra I, he learned how to sing with the royal school of church music. Instead of chemistry he learned how to compose music. He also learned that he hates his parents. He hates this whole thing. He didn’t even like music that much. He doesn’t like the amount of practice it takes. The childhood he didn’t have. By the time he got into Tisch he had his stage presence curated. Luckily he got to be a rockstar; he could be irresponsible. However he couldn’t be himself. His real self wasn’t what the people wanted. His real self didn’t know anything academic, kind of an asshole (he doesn’t know how to socialize) and idealist. On his 3rd tour he slept with a tour artist, Lisa. She liked his stage presence more than she liked him. She was shy and had dreamed of better things. He dint pay attention to her though. Unbeknownst to him- he got her pregnant. He wast thee for the child’s first words. He only learned he was a father when Jason was one and half years old. Now he has a dark haired toddler who is scared of him, hates him and likes his bandmates more than him. David doesn’t know the first thing about parenting or Jason. He just knows he wants to be better than his own parents.

Yk what? I’ll just give Lisa her own description too.

Lisa: lisa had gotten into being a roadie through coincidences. She didn’t love it but didn’t hate it. She wasn’t good enough for fashion design and this is the closest thing she will ever get. She had quit for a year to give birth to her baby boy. But after she lost her job she had to go back to roadie life. She was romantic, idealistic, and simple. She loved Jason even though she was exhausted. Her main goal was to not drown in stress and get along.

Romeo: Romeo didn’t conform. He was one of those people who were wired for music. Made for guitar, made for composition, made for wringing performances. It’s very rare but he probably had savant syndrome. The music group wanted him to be a backstage worker. But they couldn’t find a better guitarist than him. So they got a 5’4 guy who only wants to wear yellow and does not fit in with the rockstar narrative.

How he fits in:

Sleeping around- no

Avoiding kids- he loved them

Getting high off his rocker- yes.

His after show stuff got leaked and the public mercilessly bullied him. It went on for his whole career. The band tried to protect him (like those Kpop videos) but it didn’t really work.

Naturally there will be more but I don’t wanna write it all right now

[blake-micheal-buckley]

Character concept/story ideas:

The year was 2003 at northwood mall. It smelled of stale grease and conflicting perfumes from every store. (You can tell who my favorites are 😭😭😭)

Some songs/

Cast-

Chloe: (abrocrombie-17)

The undisputed queen of the mall. Her largest concern was looking effortless and being popular. She listened to Usher and Justin Timberlake and thought the alt kids were virgin freaks. (She wasn’t wrong) She was tanned and glossy with a straight fringe and scrunched hair. She was bitchy, calculated and had real uggs.

Tyler: (holister 17)

The king to Chloe’s queen. Her boyfriend. He was in his senior year- your standard ahole jock. He wore 3 different polos, too much body spray and had the baby Bieber haircut. He thought he was gods gift to the girls in the mall. Mostly the ones at Victoria’s Secret. However he noticed how Chloe ignored him for his Brett. He noticed his grade in English. He noticed how he couldn’t always keep up with what everyone else was doing. He noticed how people just liked Brett more. He listens to Eminem and Black eyed peas.

Brett: (Holister 16)

He’s very similar to his best friend Tyler in that he was a jock. Except he wasn’t a himbo. He did well in school. He was witty and smart. He has no idea how Tyler feels. Tyler has no idea how Brett feels. He has no idea how Brett feels about his shoulders or his lips. He has no clue how Brett feels about their relationship.

(I’d like this to be a love triangle)

Hayley: Aeropostale…17. She was oblivious and sweet. She listened to destinys child and smiled at everyone. She couldn’t figure out why everyone couldn’t be friends. She lived in baby tees and boot cut jeans with an impressive amount of obliviousness.

Tiffany- 18- Victoria’s Secret.

Tiffany was a blonde bombshell. She has pin straight blonde hair in a bump-it. Her uniform was all black (she worked at Victoria’s Secret after all) so she made sure she looked hot. Black lace cami, bootcut trousers and heels. Black baby tee and mini skirt with playform boots. It’s what she wears even when she’s not at works Her lipgloss was sticky and she had a portable CD player that constantly blasted Britanny spears. She was unhinged; having no filter and getting high off her rocker. Her massive, all-consuming crush (obsession) was on Jax, whom she found "tortured and beautiful." She was often called slutty by girls like Chloe, but she knew it was just jealousy; it’s not her fault she’s ok half the malls DTF list. She knew she was the hottest and craziest girl at the mall.

Ben-20-RadioShack

He was in his sophomore year of community college and a bit of a tech wizard. Even if he spent his days explain why he couldn’t return 6 year old cables. He was the one who was ready to listen to the others issues without getting involved. He was kind and logical with a dry witty humor. He also was Samantha’s boyfriend.

Jax (18) - Hot Topic: The sexy alt guy. He was quiet and thought the corporate preppiness of Abercrombie was a plague. He listened to The Used and Thrice. Most emo kids are ugly. He however was really really hot. Like muscular with several piercings and those 6 month temporary tattoos. He was the assistant manager at the hot topic. He was chill (acted aloof but lowk mean to anyone who wasn’t alt or made baby bats cry), leaning against the doorframe of his store looking bored. He was really popular. (Well among the alt kids) The goths, emos, scenes, grunges or punks. Or anything in between. He was most baby bats first crush.

Emily, 17, hot topic.

Everyone knew Emily. She was Jax’s little sister. She was a scene queen and the sweetest person at the mall. She remembered your birthday and made Kandi friendship bracelets. She was extremely energetic, positive, and supportive. She was more of a tumblr emo whereas Jax was MySpace emo. She was equally as popular. Most of everyone in the alt community loved her. However she was protective of the alt crowd. She didn’t trust anyone who wasn’t alt. She especially doesn’t trust the weird VS girl who stalked her brother out in public. She hated Tiffany.

Maya, barely 19 Spencer’s. She wore an oversized light blue hoodie with a tiny pot leaf and brown basketball shorts almost everyday. She was cynical and dry. She seemed to see the world with a calm clarity that others didn’t. She was fiercely loyal and used sarcasm to ignore that brining insecurity.

Leo-17- Fye/gamestop. If you asked Leo why he chose to work two different jobs he’d probably blush, shrug and say he enjoys both stores. He was shy and nerdy; he could tell you about any video game and any anime. He was probably the nicest of the alt kids and had a burning crush on Hayley. He was sure it was never going to happen though…

Samantha, Pacsun, 20.

She wore junco jeans and fitted black turtlenecks with her chestnut hair pulled back in a practical ponytail; her brown eyes showed the exhaustion of someone who had been parenting her younger sister since she was sixteen. She was Tiffany’s older sister and Ben’s girlfriend. She was anxious but not timid. She was a bit crazy too. But in secret. She was a nerd in secret. She knew she was cool but was too tired to maintain it. Just like how I’m too tired to keep writing this.

I’m not sure where I’d wanna put this mall. Some small town in Tennessee where we can see the prejudice alt kids get and poverty. Maybe. I think it would make the arcs more compelling. Or in LA where they held a bit of meaningless significance.

I also definitely wanna mimic my aunt and mother’s story with tiff and Sam. When they were 20 and 18 their mother passed away. However I’m not sure if this would ruin the Tiffany and Jax moment. However it would give more insight as to why tiff is like that and how the characters respond under stress. This would also make Tiffany more crazy and therefore more entertaining. It could also drive Jax to tiff. Idk if I really wanna do this though