[ dylan arnold | cis man | he/him | twenty-seven ] —— welcome to grimrose, gilbert rhys parry. it’s cool that you’re here, you know. haven’t you heard of the history of this place… anyway, how’s being a newcomer who has been in town for one month, especially since you spend most of your days as an assistant manager at radioshack and part-time archivist at town hall? also, not that it’s a bad thing, of course, but i’ve heard people say you can be a little critical more than you are thoughtful… but that’s just coming from people who are bored here, i promise. to me, you remind me of how soon is now? by the smiths and secondhand flannels with patches on the elbows, a worn leather messenger bag, and the soft whispering call of the forest... hope to see you around, gil.
PINTEREST | PLAYLIST | inspos: haku (spirited away), kat stratford (10 things i hate about you), andy dufresne (shawshank redemption), marco alisdair (the night circus), gene forrester (a separate peace), alice quinn (the magicians)
full name — gilbert rhys parry nickname(s) — gil, previously rhys name meaning — bright promise age — twenty-seven date of birth — july 3rd place of birth — ossipee, new hampshire current location — grimrose, new hampshire religion — atheist with agnostic tendencies sexuality — bisexual education level — believe it or not... but this guy's got a law degree residence — old-home-turned-apartment-building in the evergreen forest neighborhood family — jim parry (father) and margaret parry (mother). he knows his mom has a sister somewhere out there, possibly in vermont, but they cut ties when gil was just a toddler. so maybe he has an uncle or cousins too, but he's never felt the urge to go out and look for them. finances — right now he is the most financially comfortable he's been in his entire life. he quit his job at a law firm a few months ago, so he's still sitting on some savings from that gig. not rich, but not living in the kind of poverty he grew up with. spoken languages — english ability — cebrukineses (the ability to manipulate the brain and its functions)
overview. (tw: child abuse)
gilbert was born to jim and margaret parry in ossipee, new hampshire. growing up, he lived in a trailer in a mobile home park a hop, skip, and a jump from ossipee lake. looking far back enough, he can remember the three of them sitting down for dinner; his mom pushing his dad's hair out of his eyes with a wide smile; a shiny, tinsel-laden christmas tree in the corner; and a small terrier mix named rocky at his feet. what they had was meager, but gil didn't notice yet. he could remember a time when they felt like a real family, and maybe that's what made everything that followed so much harder. after a series of layoffs at the factory jim worked at, there was a long period of unemployment. gil was too young to remember much of what exactly happened during that time, but what he knew was that nothing was ever the same. dinner became a game of scrounging for whatever was in the kitchen. his mom's eyes never crinkled up with a smile. no holiday decorations. his dog was gone. and his dad started to hit him.
always a smart boy and a hard worker, gil managed to secure himself a scholarship to a private school in nearby wolfeboro. the problem was that the scholarship was only partial. he took on a few part-time jobs (working in the warehouse of a tractor supply company, as a stocker at the circle k, and dog walking) to make up the difference. the more time he worked the less time he had to spend in his family's trailer, so he found he didn't have much to complain about other than the constant exhaustion and social alienation. all was going pretty well until his dad found out just how much money gil was making. what followed was their biggest fight yet (though whether or not you could call it a fight when gil never retaliated, well...). huddled in the corner, near the front door of the trailer, gil watched as his dad lifted his fist. he squeezed his eyes closed and waited for the impact. it never came. all he hear was a loud, resounding thud, and the sound of his dad cursing. upon opening his eyes, gil saw his dad's fist connected with the wall. what he didn't know is that he made that happen. :o
fast-forward and one of gil's coworkers rented him a room above his garage for a small rent price, where gil ended up living to finish out his senior year. come fall, he attended boston college (full ride, baby!), and then after that, he turned his eye toward law school (boston college again -- go eagles!). his time in college, socially, was marked by a lot of lies and ducking around the truth about his family and past. he didn't want his new classmates to see him as gil parry: trailer trash. gil parry: poor. gil parry: victim. so he made stuff up until it became too much. all hopes of having a stable friend group in college came to a crashing halt at the beginning of junior year. he ghosted them all. but that's fine. he was certain he was never very good at being a friend anyway.
after law school, gil got a job at a law firm in providence, rhode island. there, he worked in corporate law. very quickly, he became what many of his fellow law school grads called a "corporate lackey" and it was about as soul-sucking as you can imagine -- nevermind the ethics of constantly finding yourself defending and working for corporations, who have no real care in the world for how they damage society and the environment. basically, gil was due for an existential crisis, and twenty-seven years old and with all the things he worked his whole life for and dreamed about and kept him going through the worst of it... well, that ended up being the perfect time to have it.
in a rare show of impulse, gil quit after a nasty case. he didn't like his job. he didn't like his colleagues. and he didn't even like providence. he had once sworn he'd never return to new hampshire, but he couldn't get it out of his head. he started having weird dreams. he's dreamt of trees and faces in them. sounds and voices. one voice sounds like his mother, who he hasn't spoken to in a decade. and they're whispering so softly that he can't make out what they're saying, but he has this feeling deep in his gut. and it keeps waking him up and telling him to go outside. to go north. to go into the woods. he packed up his shit in his apartment and drove his shoddy station wagon until he ran out of gas. and then he was in grimrose. it felt like a sign (though he very rarely believed in those -- though that will quickly change).
he's been in grimrose for a month and he was only able to stomach unemployment for three days. as the vigilant and no-nonsense dude that he is, he quickly found work. radioshack was hiring an assistant manager and though they were skeptical about why a guy with his qualifications wanted the job, he got it. and more recently, he managed to wrangle a job helping out with some archival work at town hall. it'd take up a good chunk of his weekends but since he spent most of his life with multiple jobs, the lack of time off doesn't bother him too much. actually, being motionless might kill him. like a shark. and it's better to work and think about work and nothing else than try to look too hard at whatever the hell he's actually doing with his life.
personality.
first and foremost: intj kinngggg
anyway, gil is logical and pragmatic and intelligent and a bit cynical. he values independence and self-reliance to a truly coocoo degree and because things that should've come freely and easily at home growing up were always treated as a transaction or as something he should feel bad about. he usually does not and will not accept help from anyone, because that means he owes them something in return and he'd rather chew his own hand off than be indebted to someone.
constantly fighting this internal war of like sheer, utter, mind-numbing contempt for people from places of privilege and arrogance while also desperate to be part of their world.
introverted overall ig, he's always like ~observing people and learning a lot about how he wants to be perceived by what he sees and then wants to make a good first impression so no one can ever guess he feels like he doesn't belong/is white trash. secret internal mean streak and i hate to be a millennial about this but def a slytherin.
but to say something kind about him, i'll say he's cautious and he makes deliberate efforts to be kinder and more understanding and more patient. he's just trying his darndest. xoxo
misc headcanons.
gil has an innate green thumb. when you walk into his apartment, you’ll see rows of pots and plants by the windows. it started when an ex-girlfriend gifted him a little cactus in college; it was a low-maintenance plant, but he found that his instincts when it came to the care and upkeep of it came very easily. he quickly expanded his collection of small plants until his roommate voiced a complaint.
he's a big fan of art rock (talking heads, kate bush, brian eno, etc.) and usually has his cassette player and headphones in his bag.
three words: human garbage disposal. if you're not finishing that plate of food, and you make a point to say it's just gonna get thrown out, have no fear... gil is gonna gobble up those scraps. sandwich crust, pickles, a half-eaten side of fries. they're all fair game.
ummmm and that's it. sorry for writing so much. if you made it this far, i'm sending you a virtual kiss to your forehead. :-*
