“He smiled understandingly-much more than understandingly. It was one of those rare smiles with a quality of eternal reassurance in it, that you may come across four or five times in life. It faced--or seemed to face--the whole eternal world for an instant, and then concentrated on you with an irresistible prejudice in your favor.”
BASICS
Full Legal Name: Edmund Marcus Washington.
Nickname(s): Eddie.
Birthday: February 20.
Astrological Sign: Pisces.
Gender: Male.
Sexual Orientation: Homosexual.
Place of Birth: Coolsville.
Relationship Status: Single.
Known Languages: English, Spanish, some Hawaiian.
APPEARANCE
Hair Color/Style: Dark brown/black which is naturally very curly, but he usually keeps it cut neat and short. Sometimes he’ll let the layer on the top of his head grow slightly longer.
Eye Color: Brown.
Height/Weight: 5′7″, 135 lbs.
Tattoos: None.
Piercings: His left ear was unprofessionally pierced in an act of misguided rebellion, which he has since let close on its own, but the mark is just barely visible if you look hard enough.
Scars: He hosts a decent amount of scars, all the consequence of working on a farm, but none are especially notable.
Other Notable Attributes: He wears glasses when he’s not working, and contacts when he is (otherwise they’d get in the way). He also tends to have paint stains on his hands, though he does a good job of making himself neat in appearance otherwise.
Insecurities: Edmund has come far enough to no longer be insecure about his art. He knows he has a budding talent in his paintings and his general skill with music, but he’s very doubtful of himself as a person and believes he lacks the courage to do anything about the things he loves. This also makes him insecure about the future, afraid of where he’ll end up.
Quirks/Eccentricities: Edmund doesn’t talk about his art with people he’s not close to. For him, it’s always felt like something to be hidden and kept to himself, and so while he’s usually well-spoken (despite being quiet), he does tend to fumble over his words a little when someone talks about the private passions he’s been conditioned to be ashamed of.
Hobbies/Interests: While the agriculture industry is something he frequents and is knowledgeable in, it’s far from something he actually enjoys in his free time. Painting and fiddling with his beat-up guitar are two of his most frequented escapes from home life. He’s also been working for a long time to restore his brother’s old motorbike, an almost futile but nonetheless meaningful task.
MBTI Type: INFP.
Enneagram Type: The Peacemaker, Level 4. “ Fear conflicts, so become self-effacing and accommodating, idealizing others and ‘going along’ with their wishes, saying ‘yes’ to things they do not really want to do. Fall into conventional roles and expectations. Use philosophies and stock sayings to deflect others.”
Moral Alignment: Lawful Good, though he wishes he were more Chaotic.
General Temperament: Calm, quiet, and kind. Generally shy, he has the kind of persona that makes him incredibly approachable and amiable to anyone surrounding him despite this. It does take him a while to really open up and form connections, however, which is why his circle of friends has always been sparse.
FAMILY/HOME LIFE
Immediate Family: His mother and father are all that remains of his immediate family, his older brother deceased for some time now.
How do they feel about their family?: One would ordinarily think Edmund harbors some deep-seeded resentment for his parents given their vice like grip on his life and dismissal of the things he loves, but contrarily, Edmund cares for his parents quite a lot. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t be in the conflicting situation he’s in now. Their relationship doesn’t offer him any joy, and he certainly avoids them when he can, but at the end of the day they’re still the ones who raised him. He knows deep down that the person he really is will be a disappointment to them, so he’s stopped trying to be that person with them. His father is the most rooted in the Washington family legacy, so his bond with his mother is slightly less rigid, but not by much. He believes that she looks at him and sees only a poor replica of the perfect son she once had, and that makes things significantly more difficult between them.
How does their family feel about them?: It’s a complicated, unquestionably unhealthy relationship. The Washington’s have a history in Coolsville, one that has always come before everything else. For this, Eddie is rather unknown to his parents. Edmund as a person was always less important than what Edmund meant. Marcus was the golden son who bore all the weight of the family legacy on his shoulders with grace and true pride, and with him gone, Edmund became the only one left. Someone who now holds this responsibility with shaking arms and a wavering resolve. That’s all they see, and it tends to make them hard on him without seeing or realizing why he might harbor so much trepidation.
Pets: Edmund had a habit of getting too attached to the farm animals when he was younger, something that led his parents to get a puppy for their sons before it became too much of a problem. Quite old now, Edmund is still pretty attached to him and enjoys having him nearby while he’s working.
Description of their home: A large, old-fashioned farm house. It’s been renovated a few times over the years as well, and is a rather nice place. However, it holds no warmth for Edmund. The only place he can at all feel at ease is in his room on the top floor, away from everyone else.
Description of their bedroom: The Washingtons used to have large families, but that has since become less of a tradition. One bout of remodeling led to a few rooms being combined to make them more spacious. His brother’s, still untouched, was the largest, but Edmund’sis still a decent size. Half is taken up by a bed and desk, and the other is where he has paint-splattered sheets laid down, an easel, and canvases strewn about.
FAVORITES
Favorite Color: Light blue.
Favorite Bands/Songs/Type of Music: He’ll listen to almost anything. Once he discovered he liked music and enjoyed playing it, his tastes narrowed down to what he believed was artistically “good,” but the genres he listens to are all over the place. His favorites are probably indie/alternative type rock and older hip-hop.
Favorite Movies: Edmund enjoys the escape of movies most and will watch films of all kinds, but his favorites have always been the scif-fi/fantasy and indie films.
Favorite Books: Edmund has always liked short stories and poetry over full novels. He has a few short story collections on his bookshelf and poetry from the beats, Whitman, and a slew of others he favors.
Favorite Foods/Drinks: If working on a farm did one thing for him, it was fostering an appreciation for the benefits of fresh food. He is, despite his reluctance to work in agriculture, a big supporter of buying fresh and local. He’s not very strict about it, but he does veer towards vegetarianism and likes dishes that are inventive with fruit and vegetables.
Favorite Sports/Sports Teams: None.
Favorite Clothing Style: Eddie’s never had a chance to explore his sense of style much, but he does like fashion in his own way. When he’s not working, his clothes are always neat and well-made, but if he wore what he was really interested in, it might be a little more expressive.
Favorite Time of Day: Dusk.
Favorite Weather/Season: Winter. It’s become his favorite for the sole reason that this is when the farm slows down and he has the most time to do the things he wants to do. He enjoys snowy weather, but might truly prefer a sunny day with mild temperature.
WHICH?
Introvert or Extrovert? Introvert.
Optimist or Pessimist? Optimist (most of the time).
Leader or Follower? A follower with buried leadership potential.
Confident or Self-Conscious? A bit of both. More self-conscious.
Cautious or Careless? Cautious.
Passionate or Apathetic? Passionate.
Book Smarts or Street Smarts? Book smarts.
Compliments or Insults? Compliments.
It was rare to get even the faintest of a reaction from Edmund, the slightest flicker of an emotion in the best of times. That was what made the off guard notion filtrated through the boy bring a surge of pleasure through the other. He hadn’t won, but the point of this conversation was not to win. There was no gain in winning anything.
It was to disturb. To antagonize. But often was the way with Edmund. For there was no battle with a boy who wouldn’t bite. It wasn’t a fight. The two never had that kind of hostility that he and the rest of the town share. Instead, it was more of a dance.
Ever since the disappearance of one Reese Davidson, the once haloed boy slowly passed on his crown, and stepped into the shoes the girl once wore. It soon became about power.
Twist, turn. Step with the beat. A cross, a tease. Delicate, and structured; he’d dance with the town. Dance with Edmund. Two rivers intertwining once more, their on waters flowing with icy chunks occasionally colliding. Until, they dissolve to their own once more.
Between the smoke, the cool air of the barn, Levi finally let a step back from his stance. But to think it was a release of the interaction would be wrong.
“That’s right, you’re already someone’s rose.”
Edmund had always been content to be wary of Levi from afar. He’d never presented himself as much more than someone who thought it might be a fun game to make the quiet, peaceful boy lose his cool. Now his vision of everything felt skewed and he didn’t know what to think. Was this his intention from the start? Was what people saw only ever what he wanted them to see, nothing more or less? Edmund could relate, and while it was in a different way (one that made all the difference), he found the growing list of similarities between them all the more unsettling.
Eddie started out defensive the moment he saw who had come to disturb him, but now he just felt dumbfounded. Why did Levi insist on moving from one riddle to the next? He stepped away, and the space between them ought to have been a relief from their tense closeness before, but now Edmund felt an unwanted curiosity brewing to find out what was going on in the other boy’s head. Was it all a farce to toy with him, or was there some semblance of sincerity in his words? He took a step forward, following Levi’s retreat.
“Why would you say that?” The smoke wasn’t bothering him anymore, but his head felt lighter, his perception narrowing. For all the times he’d asked why Levi came here today, he knew he wasn’t going to get a straight answer by asking again. At any rate, that wasn’t what was driving the majority of his curiosity anymore, anyways. “I’m not... I mean, no one’s ever been interested. Not in me.” And why would they? He had never been much more than a lost soul too afraid to find himself. He didn’t know what Levi was playing at, and it was making him uneasy. A sense that in the back of Edmund’s mind made him realize he was possibly playing right into his hands.
the years wore on and changed my heart, the leading role for a smaller part. // not the last time we are learning who we are and what we would... // to the bird with no flight the skies don't ever offer respite. // it all fell down; it all fell to dust. // sometimes it helps to forget where we come from. // all their words for glory, they always sounded empty when we're looking up for heaven. // the potential you'll be that you'll never see; the promises you'll only make. // i don't want the lights to find me when i'm dark and lost. // i could be so much more than this. no one cares. // i want to feel whole. . . i’ve got no control. // we know, we grow, we fall, we crawl. // they say that dreaming is free, but i wouldn’t care what it cost me.
Despite what everyone said bringing up Reese hadn’t gotten easier with time; it still felt like the weight of her absence was crushing down on him and he couldn’t breathe. Sometimes he’d wonder if it would be any easier to forget, to scrub the name from his mind until all he felt was indifference and board up every memory that he had of her; but it wasn’t that simple and he’d just feel guilty for ever letting the thought cross his mind. Instead he’d close his eyes and pretend nothing had changed that she was still there with them. He wondered what she’d say if she was here with them; after all it had always seemed like she knew what to say and how to handle things and Vincent didn’t.
He had never been good at thinking things through and always saying the wrong things, it didn’t matter if he had good intentions he always ended up destroying things. If only he knew the right things to say, especially now, when the moment felt far too fragile for Vincent to be handling. “I don’t–” He started but stopped, not quite sure of what he was saying, before trying again. “It’s your life, Edmund. Who cares what they think? Screw what your parents think, what Reese would’ve thought. Do things for yourself not because you think it would make other people proud.”
The moment felt rare, and fleeting. Anything could break it, and yet Edmund’s focus was solely on Vincent when he began to speak. Arms crossed, as if to protect something vulnerable he had just revealed, he hadn’t really expected to get a response to his admission. Silence or a change of subject wouldn’t have surprised him, but neither of those things happened, and he was hanging off of Vincent’s every word.
It might’ve seemed like an unnecessarily blunt statement to someone else, but Edmund, who so often became a slave to what was expected of him, needed to hear it. He stared for a moment, trying to let the words sink in, harsh and encouraging in their own unique way. Reese would’ve agreed with him too, if she were here, wouldn’t she? All too suddenly he felt fear at the prospect of everything he could be and everything he wasn’t, and the lengths he’d have to go to ever get something he wanted.
Edmund’s mouth opened as if to speak these doubts aloud, then stopped short. Maybe it was too much. He was sure he would’ve remained quiet any other time, and yet- “Maybe you’re right,” he admitted. He felt nervous, now, because something he had yet to tell anyone was hanging on the tip of his tongue, waiting for him to say it aloud and make it real. “I... I have a few applications to some schools saved. Art schools.” Was it the thought of leaving that made his heart pound with anxiety? “But I haven’t sent any. The more I think about it, the more it feels like I just wouldn’t have what it takes.”
Levi was once similar; a reflection of what was. A golden haired boy, angelic in sight. It was easy to have said such things about the light that was him. Clear, iridescent. He was once less of a being too.
Such was a time when the boys mimicked another. Mirrored the lack of anything that was. When Edmund could have resembled Levi, and Levi could have resembled Edmund. Like mirror against mirror only reflecting the beautiful glow of light back upon the other, where the empty space created visuals left a place where the two boys friends.
The parallels between the two today could have even been striking to those looking hard enough between the noise that settled between the two of them. Between the boy who nailed himself to the Earth, and the boy who make a crown to bestow upon his own head.
Satisfaction found itself whelming up in the Henderson as Edmund’s eyes finally met with his own between the silence he offered for an answer. The confrontation, it bought the gleam of satisfaction across his stare. Redundant. That’s just what the question was. Besides the recent increase in funerals around the town, it was the only source of income keeping Perkies open. Still, he stood there, belonging.
“Were you expecting to hear something else?” There was a pause left between the stale air, his stare not for a moment faltering Eddie’s.
The slightest of movements, although in the position the two were in it was enough to send slithers of cracks through the ice, disturbing the leaves that rest on the surface. An inhale, followed by a breath of smoke left the look of a cold winter’s morning thrown into the boy’s face.
“A partnership court of another kind perhaps?”
Edmund was trying not to move, and attempted to meet Levi’s eyes with the kind of solemn bravery he knew he didn’t have. He had proven time and time again he was little more than a timid coward, and he didn’t know why he was trying to prove himself wrong now. He was determined to not give in to whatever reaction Levi sought of him, something he’d always been good at for how passive he was, but this felt different. This wasn’t simply grating words or insults- it felt like some kind of power move.
The cold lightness of Levi’s eyes met Edmund’s, conversely dark and warm, and the look he found there sent something sharp and sickening twisting through his gut. Still, he remained where he was, foolishly determined to be resilient and wait this out until it was Levi who chose to leave, not him. But the question that came next caught him off guard. His brief spell of confidence faltered as quickly as it had come, his body slackening from its cautionary pose and expression melting into one of confusion. “What-?” he started, their graze breaking when he turned his head away at the smoke being breathed into his face. He couldn’t help inhaling a lungful with their proximity, and coughed despite himself.
Eddie thought he knew, somehow, what Levi must be hinting at; what subtle and unsettling implication he was making. He didn’t know what to say, especially because there was a distinct possibility he was mistaken. If he attempted to state plainly what Levi was making vague, and he was wrong, he’d only make the situation worse. “I don’t know what you mean.” It was partially true, even if instinct gave him a clearer picture than he let on. He wasn’t stupid, after all, but neither was Levi. Thinking so would be a vast underestimation.
Edmund would never venture to say they were alike, but they had similarities. Two different paths that forked off of the same road. He didn’t know which outcome was worse. “I don’t think I’m interested in any kind of partnership, Levi.”
“You’re welcome.” She retorted, her eyes following him, part amused, part intrigued by the human and the way he set his instrument away. Talia noticed the way he avoided to look at her, and she was pleased to see that she made yet another people uncomfortable in her presence. However, after a moment he introduced, and she nodded. “Talia. Pleased to meet you.”
There was something off about this stranger, though Edmund couldn’t claim to know what it was. The feeling he got was intrinsic, the sort of base instinct that comes when an animal’s ears twitch or pupils dilate at the prospect of something potentially dangerous nearby. But of course, that was much too extreme a comparison for this. Talia was kind enough, and he took his discomfort to be a product of his own social anxiety. He smiled when she introduced herself, a small and fragile gesture. “Are you from here?” he asked, both as an attempt to keep friendly conversation and because he was, admittedly, curious.
Talia eyed him for the briefest of moments. She didn’t really mind, not right now – she won’t get anything done with her Grimoire anyway it appeared. She shook her head at his question, motioning towards the empty chair as she put the book back into her bag. “No, I don’t mind. Besides, it wouldn’t be nice of me to keep you standing there with your tea, now would it?” She retorted, a small smirk appearing on her face.
Edmund shifted uncomfortably as she stared at him, briefly wondering if he should try his chances back inside, before she responded. He smiled timidly, albeit appreciatively, and set his cup down so he could shift the guitar case off his back and prop it against the wall beside the table, out of the way. “Well... not nice, maybe, but understandable. Thank you, either way.” He sat, the weather warm but not so stifling that it made his drink choice ludicrous. For a minute he only fiddled with the handle before conceding to drink, staring fixedly away from the stranger before, with nothing to look at, they fell back to her. “I’m Edmund, by the way,” he said, feeling a little awkward at this delayed introduction.
Writing usually served to calm her down, but today it seemed like the young necromancer couldn’t focus on what she wanted to scribe. A bucket list for new spells? Crystals she ought to buy, more candles? Or simply a dream she has had a few nights ago that still stuck with her? It wasn’t exactly a writer’s block, but she thought that, at least, the overcrowded cafe would provide her with the much needed distraction. After her third cigarette and the seventh sigh in fifteen minutes, she gave up, closing the notebook, right on time to see someone approaching her. She greeted them with an arched eyebrow, in silent question.
“No, the seat is not taken if that’s what you were going to ask.”
Edmund never cared much for crowded places, but the fact that he was embarking on something new in this otherwise unassuming cafe surely had something to do with his extra dose of nerves. He made jittery, stuttered out apologies as the large case strapped across his back- unmistakably a guitar based on its shape- accidentally brushed against the many patrons of this place. There was more space on the tables outside, and he couldn’t help a breath of relief when he made it into open air. Still, nursing a cup of tea in his hands, he wasn’t keen to simply stand beside the propped-open door of the entrance. He had been hoping to sit, drink, and gather his thoughts for just a moment, and it was only when a stranger noticed him eyeing the seat across from them that she spoke as if she could read his mind.
“Oh, well... you’re sure, you don’t mind...?” he asked, taking a small step forward and looking at her more plainly, wanting to make sure he wouldn’t be intruding on a stranger’s solitude.
For a boy who had always been negative to a fault it was difficult to buy into such an optimistic theory like the one Edmund had brought up. He didn’t think it had much, or any, merit but he wasn’t about to make his thoughts on the matter known. If his friend wanted to believe in it, and if it helped him, than who was he to question it? So instead of telling him what he really thought about it he let out a non-committal hum as he let his gaze linger on his friend, for longer than he probably should’ve, before looking away and settling instead on anything else; the trees, the glint that appeared in the waters surface from the sun, and the sky.
Vincent wanted to ask if he would ever take his own advice, to muster the courage to go after what would make him happy even if it would upset his parents. In fact, he almost had but bit back the words and instead mustered a quite “maybe” after a moment too long, unsure of what else to say in return that wouldn’t strike a nerve. There were often moments where Vincent knew his words would cause damage but said them anyways, even with Edmund, but in this moment one that felt fragile he decided to hold back. “That seems like the kind of thing Reese would’ve believed.” Which was his way of subtly saying that he didn’t.
Edmund didn’t have to press his thoughts to know it was something Vincent didn’t buy into. He could share what he was thinking without insisting upon its truth, and in all reality, he couldn’t blame him for his silent rejection of the idea. It wasn’t easy being optimistic when everything they’ve experienced, both together and individually, contradicted its validity. It was something that went even further than his own wants and wishes, but that of others. There was his brother and Reese, who were both long gone before they could ever even attempt to make their mark on the world. And then Vincent, who seemed convinced he was worth nothing beyond this small town and whatever path of delinquency others believed he was bound for. It would’ve been easy to buy into all of it, to let himself fall into a pit of pessimism- and maybe something worse- if he just let himself, but there had to be hope with the prospect of the future, right?
And there was the truth of it, spoken carefully (more carefully than anyone might believe, but that Edmund appreciated all the same) from Vincent. The kind of thing Reese would’ve believed. He was right, and it shocked a quiet laugh out of Edmund. She had more of an influence on him than she would ever know. The hope he had for his own dreams was a fleeting thing, and she had always convinced him try and fuel a fire from that spark. The only issue was that it risked burning his current home to the ground. “Yeah, it does,” he agreed, glad that her memory came with such a fond feeling even if the sadness was inevitable. The lack of her presence felt overly obvious now with the mention of her name, and the silence felt tense for him as he stared at the darkening sky. “I hope I can make her proud someday,” he said quietly, as if he hoped Vincent wouldn’t hear this admission.
If only, Vincent almost replied but bit the words back and instead settled for a simple, “I’ll be there.” The thing was he didn’t inherently dislike school, as much as he’d like to claim, it was more a matter of feeling like he was occupying space in a place that he didn’t belong. After all a boy like him would never amount to anything – it’s what far too many people have told him – and instead of trying he had simply given up. He stopped caring, or more accurately he pretended not to care in hopes that the longer he pretended the more likely it would stop being fake.
Vincent tilted his head to the side, no longer looking up at the sky but instead at Edmund with raised eyebrows and a small amount of amusement lingering in his expression. “You believe that?” He questioned without judgement but for him he couldn’t imagine thinking that it was anything but words meant to instill false optimism into people.
Edmund shrugged, the long grass he was twisting around his finger finally snapping in two. He merely picked another one, repeating the pattern idly without really realizing. “Sure I do. It kind of makes sense, doesn’t it?” He knew Vincent must be doubtful, but one of Edmund’s only reprieves- if nothing else- was optimism. “Negativity lingers, you know? It’s hard to get rid of. I think if you give yourself something positive once in a while, especially at the right time, it can make a big difference.”
He shrugged again, uncertain, breaking yet another piece of grass. He gave up on the listless task and leaned back on his hands. “I guess I don’t really know for sure, though,” he conceded quietly. From here, he could hear a faint echo of his father whistling their dogs back into the house, and wondered if he would be hearing his name being called next. Thankfully it never came, but apprehension still tensed his shoulders at the possibility of it. Frowning in thought, he avoided looking at Vincent, now. “But either way, it can only ever be a temporary fix, until you have the courage go after something that actually makes you happy.”
For a brief moment Vincent let the words pass with only silence to follow, though it wasn’t for lack of things to say. There were plenty of remarks floating around in Vincent’s mind at his friends words, all of which treading dangerously close to a topic he knew was best to avoid. Most people would say the boy was not one to filter himself, which was mostly true, but there were exceptions for everything. So, instead of saying any variation of those things he settled for, “Must’ve” before moving on and dropping the topic entirely settling instead on looking around at his surroundings as he followed along with Edmund taking the lead. It was a place that he had found himself more often than he’d thought and every time he couldn’t help but notice how the further you got from the central space the quieter it seemed; taking on a peaceful atmosphere. He had always felt out of place almost, like he was occupying a space he had no right to be. Not when nothing about himself had ever felt at peace.
Edmund’s question had pulled him from his thoughts and dragged out a short laugh that held no real humor. There was something about how his friend still asked that always took him off guard, when now a days it was assumed that the answer would always be ‘yes’. “I’m not sure I’d classify it as a fight but the principal seems to think otherwise.” Vincent explained as they reached their destination and let his eyes take in the familiar view before settling down on the ground. “Fine by me.” He stated shrugging, it was quiet here after all with a distinct lack of people that he always sought out. “You sure you want to use this time on me as opposed to, I don’t know, taking a nap?”
Edmund hummed in thought, silently wondering what classified as a fight and what didn’t for Vincent. Never one to pry, however, he merely shrugged and said, “As long as you’re not suspended, because I’ll be back in school tomorrow.” Edmund enjoyed his classes- was probably one of the few who did- but he was by himself enough to not want to endure it in school without his only friend there. Not that it mattered, really. He was used to it by now, and he’d take classes over work on the farm no matter the circumstance.
But Edmund felt at peace for the first time all day, and didn’t want to dwell on thoughts of loneliness or the enduring work he had at home. Even though they were still technically on his property, it was easy to forget that here and be at ease, especially when the place held more fond memories than negative ones. Picking idly at the tall grass in front of him, Edmund turned a dubious smile to Vincent and let out a quiet laugh. “Did you really just suggest that I take a nap?” He shook his head, a small smile still present on his lips as he turned his gaze to the water. “Nah. I mean... I’m tired, but this is better. It’s more positive to do something you enjoy before going to sleep, you know. They say it’s supposed to give you better dreams, make the next day go by easier.”
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