open to / location: anyone! and can be anywhere, just lmk in the tags or the reply!
"wait... training? for what? we're actually expected to do that?" pauli sounded absolutely horrified at the reveal. "you're... you're joking, right? i train at home. the stair master. maybe even the punching bag. i don't like use weapons against people!" he shrieked as he shook his head. "what happens if my parasol slash spear takes someone's finger or something?" pauli asked with a shiver as he looked at the parasol in his hand. when he clicked the button to fold it, the silver, green, and yellow piece of work folded up into a spear. and that alongside the warhammer on his back was definitely concerning. "wait... why are we training? are we going to be apart of some secret society or something?"
tyriq withers, homosexual, cismale + he/him → isn’t that pauli beckett? the story claims that they're paulette bimbette from beauty & the beast. i hear they’re twenty-four. in the cursed town they’re a(n) influencer, but back in the fairy tale realm they were a(n) court socialiete. they seem to be confident & charismatic, but also vain & selfish. their aesthetics include designer sunglasses and gold jewelry, an influencer looking over their shoulder into a mirror as they take a thirst trap photo, freshly manicured hands holding onto a parasol. | ace, 32, he/him, cst + none
FULL NAME:
Pauli Beckett
ALSO KNOWN AS:
Paulette Bimbette
NICKNAME:
Give me some?
AGE:
24
SPECIES:
Human
FAIRY TALE CONNECTION:
Beauty & the Beast
OCCUPATION (PRE-CURSE):
Court Socialite
OCCUPATION (CURSE/PELLAR TOWN):
Social Media Influencer
D/V/S:
Verse
SEXUAL POSITION:
Bottom (mostly)
FACE CLAIM:
Tyriq Withers
𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘
INTELLIGENCE:
Below Average. He's not incapable of learning, he just rarely bothers if the information doesn't directly benefit him.
MYERS-BRIGGS:
ESFP (The Entertainers) : Pauli is an ESFP because he lives almost entirely in the present. Chasing whatever catches his attention or makes him feel good in the moment. He's outgoing, thrives on admiration, and naturally gravitates toward people who validate his ego. Rather than planning ahead or carefully weighing consequences, he acts on impulse and trusting his charm to get him out of trouble if things go wrong. While he isn't particularly interested in intellectual pursuits or long-term strategy, he's incredibly tuned into appearances, social dynamics, and how others perceive him. His decisions are driven more by emotion and immediate gratification than logic, whether that means splurging on designer clothes, posting another thirst trap for attention, or refusing to admit he's wrong simply because it bruises his pride.
LIKES
Expensive clothes
Luxury brands
Mirrors
Designer cologne
Attention
Compliments
Photoshoots
Working out
Shopping
Going viral
Being told he's pretty
VIP treatment
DISLIKES
Being ignored
Losing followers
Bad lighting
Cheap clothes
Criticism
Reading
Responsibility
Sweat stains
Being upstaged
Looking "average"
POSITIVE ATTRIBUTES
Confident
Charismatic
Fearless
NEGATIVE ATTRIBUTES
Vain
Selfish
Materialistic
𝐁𝐈𝐎𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐘
Pauli Beckett has never understood why people insist confidence is a bad thing. If you ask him, it's simply called being honest. He's attractive. He's charming. He has hundreds of thousands of followers hanging on his every post. Why shouldn't he acknowledge it?
Growing up in Pellar Town (as far as he knew anyways), Pauli has always floated through life on good looks and charisma alone. School wasn't exactly his forte, but he discovered early that smiling at the right people and saying exactly what they wanted to hear opened far more doors than studying ever could. Before long, brands were sending him free clothes, gyms were asking him to promote their facilities, and companies were paying him simply to exist in front of a camera.
It suits him perfectly. Life is easier when someone else carries the heavy conversations while he carries the stress of looking hot.
That isn't to say Pauli is lazy, far from it. Maintaining perfection is practically a full-time job. Every workout, every meal, every shopping trip, every appointment, and every photo is carefully curated to keep himself at the center of attention. Looking effortless takes effort, and Pauli has no intention of letting anyone forget it.
Pauli can be painfully self-absorbed, dismissive of anyone he considers beneath him, and almost allergic to accountability. He has a habit of making promises he never intends to keep, assuming rules don't apply to him, and expecting praise for the bare minimum. If helping someone inconveniences him, chances are he'll suddenly remember somewhere else he needs to be.
Yet as the curse began to weaken, fragments of another life linger. A crowded tavern. Three sisters giggling behind gloved hands. An impossible obsession with the strongest, handsomest man in town.
A green dress.
Those dreams never quite make sense when he wakes, but they leave behind familiar feelings. Admiration for beauty. A desire to be admired in return. An instinctive need to attach himself to whoever seems the most powerful person in the room. And when he realized his dreams were an actual past life? Well, he realized that he was truly destined to be the most beautiful (even against his identical siblings) person in any world that's blessed to have him.
Armor and Weapons
When it comes to Pauli's gear, it's all colored under the colors he recalls him and his sisters wearing in his past life. The green from the dress he wore, the yellow at the bottom of the blue skirt for his sister Laurette, and the red jewels the same shade of red that his sister Claudette used to wear. The parasol that he normally carries with him actually folds into a spear.
✎ status: open
✎ location: tirulia, any of the coasts. you decide!
✎ estimated time: 00:00, midnight
there's a wide smile that had taken over a large portion of his face as he looked up to the moon. he was sitting in the middle of a boat, but wasn't sailing anywhere. mainly letting the ocean waters sway him back and forth. if one were to look at his attire, they'd think they were sunbathing. denim shorts that were obviously cut my them, tank top tucked in the back pocket, flannel shirt wrapped around their waste, and the shoes he had come with kicked off. “the souls are talking! they're chatty tonight.” he couldn't actually speak to the dead. devlin looks over at them with a cheshire grin. “they brought you to me for a reason. what do you need?”
jeremy allen white, pansexual, genderfluid male + he/they → isn’t that devlin cooney? the story claims that they're the cheshire cat from alice in wonderland. i hear they’re 35 (unknown). in the cursed town they’re a drug dealer, but back in the fairy tale realm they were a philosophical guide. they seem to be self-aware & wise, but also mischievous & unpredictable. their aesthetics include stray cats constantly following him around for snacks, cases upon cases of cigarettes, the feeling of hearing/seeing something that's not there, a trail of chaos that they leave in their path.
jonathan daviss, bisexual, male + he/him → isn’t that wesley kofi? the story claims that they're kovu from the lion king. i hear they’re 25. in the cursed town they’re a fisherman/delivery boy, but back in the fairy tale realm they were a disowned tribal prince. they seem to be clever & compassionate, but also unforthcoming & jealous. their aesthetics include deep purple sunrises, dark clouds overhead, all black outfits.
About Him...
most of Wesley's life has been a lonely one. Exiled from his tribe in the Pride Lands. the then young were-lion Wandered the savanna in search of a place to belong. when the scent of home was swiftly replaced with unfamiliar and more harsher ones - ash, flesh rotten bones , noxious sulfur - the cub knew he'd wandered too far. the Waste Lands weren't a place any Prince should be. He was Lost until a lioness crept up on him. nudging him to a cave with bats and jagged rocks abound. there resided a lion shrouded in shadows, Scar. who over time he came to call his Stepfather. In town Wesley fumbles most social interactions due to his own anxiety and the awkwardness of youth. His cat like reflexes only doing him good when it comes to work. Who knew a delivery boy needed to be so fit and agile? Make sure to rate him 5 stars in the delivery app now.
vinnie hacker, gay, male + he/him → isn’t that audrey-graham clark? the story claims that they're hercules from hercules. i hear they’re 24 in the cursed town they’re a freelance mechanic & handyman, but back in the fairy tale realm they were a demigod and hero. they seem to be joyful & gregarious, but also impulsive & overconfident. their aesthetics include marvel movie opening credits, running on the beach, clear sunny days.
ABOUT Him...
what Audrey doesn't know about the Roman Empire he makes up for in ways of his Charm & Physique. Around town the brondie is known for his handy work. He can change your oil & your light bulbs no questions asked. it's a simple easy going life for a once epic Hero & sunbathed Demigod who used to have the Colosseum over-packed with spectators ready to oogle over his next great feat of Strength.
📩 HONESTY SATURDAY ! reblog this if your inboxes are open to receiving honesty hour asks. feel free to ask anything to my muses and they'll be as honest as possible. * if it's more of an internal monologue and not open knowledge, please make this known somehow.
cyrus was thumbing through a book curiously as he tried to see if it had any relevant information to the situation they found themselves in. cyrus figured he could try to find out more about where they are in order to figure out why they ended up here. but so far these past few days? nothing has jumped out in his studies. "maybe i can find a spellbook or something here. never hurts to stretch one's legs anyways." he grumbled grumpily as he slowly stood up and stretched, allowed his muscles and joints to pop. he steps outside of the little place he had been using as a makeshift home and takes a moment to bask in the sunlight before he begins to walk. and almost immediately, he's nearly stumbling into someone. "crap," cyrus sighs. "maybe i was better off inside," he says with a sarcastic chuckle. "are you okay?"
"hell yeah!" vincent's lips had a very large grin set on them as he was shirtless. looking over his shoulder and at the mirror, he grinned as he saw the wings briefly twitched on his back. he made his way back to the bed and climbed on top of the other. "they got a little bigger today. maybe i'll be able to actually use them in my human form instead of being shrunken down to a squashable 5 inches. although being able to shrink would be pretty cool as well!" he babbled on excitedly with a grin before sliding down onto the bed next to the other. "now i just need to figure out how to get a motorcycle here."
pedro pascal, gay, male + he/him → isn’t that ezekiel "zeke" lopez? the story claims that they're the big bad wolf from little red riding hood / three little pigs etc. i hear they’re 48 (112). in the cursed town they’re the owner of the diner / town grump, but back in the fairy tale realm they were the forest menace. they seem to be clever & resourceful, but also hostile & grumpy. their aesthetics include sharp claws and fangs, furrowed brows and low growls in the night, the earthy scent of freshly cut wood/trees.
𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍
FULL NAME: [ EZEKIEL LOPEZ ]
ALSO KNOWN AS: [ BIG BAD WOLF ]
NICKNAME: [ ZEKE, PUPPY ;) ]
AGE: [ 48 ( 112 ) ]
GENDER/PRONOUNS: [ MALE, HE/HIM ]
ORIENTATION: [ HOMOSEXUAL ]
SPECIES: [ WEREWOLF-LIKE ]
FAIRY TALE CONNECTION: [ RED RIDING HOOD, THE WOODSMAN, THREE LITTLE PIGS, THREE LITTLE WOLVES ETC. ]
OCCUPATION (PRE-CURSE): [ KING OF THE FOREST ;) FOREST MENACE / VILLAIN ]
OCCUPATION (CURSE/PELLAR TOWN): [ OWNER OF LUNA'S DINER + COOK ]
ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: [ HOMOROMANTIC ]
SEXUAL ORIENTATION: [ HOMOSEXUAL ]
SEXUAL TEMPERAMENT: [ SUBMISSIVE BRAT ]
SEXUAL POSITION: [ BOTTOM ]
𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏𝐒
SIGNIFICANT OTHER: [ N/A ]
CHILDREN: [ WHO KNOWS :P ]
PARENTS: [ UNKNOWN NOBLEMAN WEREWOLF + WOLF MAMA ]
SIBLINGS: [ NONE, HE'S A SPECIAL UNICORN ]
FRIENDS: [ NONE, HE HATES EVERYONE. (he's a liar). ]
𝐏𝐇𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐒
FACE CLAIM: [ PEDRO PASCAL ]
EYE COLOUR: [ BROWN ]
HAIR COLOUR: [ BROWN ]
HEIGHT: [ 5'11 | 1.80 METRES ]
BODY BUILD: [ ATHLETIC, LEAN, SLUTTY WAIST AND BROAD SHOULDERS, LIL BELLY AFTER A GOOD FEAST ]
FACIAL HAIR: [ LIGHT BEARD CENTRED AROUND THE MOUTH, EXTENDING TO THE SIDE OF HIS FACE + SEMI-SUBTLE STACHE. ]
TATTOOS + PIERCINGS: [ SECRET. ]
NOTABLE PHYSICAL TRAITS:
[ SCARS: ONE ACROSS HIS NOSE, CUT UNDER HIS LEFT EYE DRAGGING UP TO HIS CHEEK, SMOL ONES, WILL SPORT FURRY EARS AND A TAIL ON OCCASION, CLAWS AND FANGS ALWAYS OUT. ]
INTELLIGENCE: [ 110 IQ. ]
MYER-BRIGGS: [ ISTP ]
LIKES: [ THE FOREST, QUIET PLACES, SMALL ANIMALS, FOOD (MEAT), HIS DINER, GOOD CHASES ]
DISLIKES: [ BAD WEATHER, STINK, PEOPLE (HEHE), VEGETARIANS/VEGANS, LOSING. ]
POSITIVE ATTRIBUTES: [ PROTECTIVE, RESOURCEFUL, STREETFOREST-CLEVER, DETERMINED. ]
NEGATIVE ATTRIBUTES: [ DISTRUSTFUL, WITHDRAWN, HOSTILE, GRUMPY, SELFISH, COMPETITIVE. ]
𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒
AESTHETICS: [ MOONLIGHT ON DARK FUR. A DINER NEON SIGN FLICKERING AT MIDNIGHT. CLAWS STAINED WITH GREASE AND BLOOD. BOOTS RESTING BY THE FOREST EDGE. A TAIL CURLING AROUND A BARSTOOL. TEETH FLASHING BETWEEN A GRIN AND A GROWL. HOWLS ECHOING INTO EMPTY STREETS. THE SCENT OF COFFEE AND CIGARETTE SMOKE. SCARS LIKE MAPS WRITTEN ACROSS SKIN. EARS TWITCHING AT THE DOORBELL’S CHIME. THE FOREST ALWAYS CALLING. A BURGER SIZZLING ON THE GRILL. AMBER EYES THAT NEVER STOP WATCHING. LONELINESS HELD LIKE A SECRET. A LEGEND HIDING IN PLAIN SIGHT. ]
INSPO: [ HUNGRY LIKE THE WOLF (DURAN DURAN). BOYS DON'T CRY (THE CURE). TO BUILD A HOME (THE CINEMATIC ORCHESTRA). ANIMAL I HAVE BECOME (THREE DAYS GRACE). HOWL (FLORENCE + THE MACHINE). ONCE UPON A DREAM (LANA DEL REY). HOUSE OF THE RISING SUN (THE ANIMALS). ]
𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒
KINKS: [ PRAISE. SCENTS. BREEDING. HAIR PULLING. PLAY WITH HIS EARS I DARE U. VERBAL FEMINISATION (!!). NIPPLE PLAY. WORSHIP (HIM; HE'S PRETTY LET HIM KNOW THAT. HE LIKES GIVING IT TOO, THO). MARKING. CHOKING (NEEDS TRUST). CONSENSUAL SOMNOPHILIA. COCKWARMING. AFFECTION. COLLARS. GENTLE. BEING USED. SKIN TO SKIN CONTACT. PET HIM. FOREST/DINER QUICKIES. FOOD PLAY. ]
ANTI-KINKS: [ VORE. SCAT. BLINDFOLDS. (NO TRUST). ]
𝐁𝐈𝐎𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐘
when a werewolf & an actual wolf love each other very much...
that could only go wrong & everybody with common sense would get that, but not the parents of the forest's famous little wolf boy.
once upon a time the wolf boy's father was someone important, someone the people knew, so his condition; if self-afflicted or not, had been kept secret, as had been his tryst with a wolf living in the forest. it was easy enough turning away from a wild animal once his mistakes caught up to him, the wolf mother couldn't exactly march into the village & demand to see the father of her unborn pup.
how the werewolf became one in the first place? nobody knew. nobody had ever spoken of it. maybe it'd been the wolf itself who cursed her lover so he'd come back to her - even if only during the full moons. some say she missed her love so much she cried at the moon every night until the goddess shed a tear & gifted her the ability to turn the man into something almost like herself so they could be forever together.
the truth would forever remain a mystery, but one thing was clear - the little wolf boy was not the first & yet he was, because none of his older siblings survived.
the big bad wolf hadn't always been big. he was born fragile just like everybody else: deaf, blind & helpless. a pup. in fact he didn't shift into a human until he was about two or three years old, at which point he was stuck human in a world that knew no mercy on anybody living in it. his mother had left him regularly, always trying to reunite with her lover, but to no avail. eventually she stopped trying, but her son's appearance .. posed a problem. not only did he remind her of his father, but he was also a burden. slower. weaker. freezing in the cold without his furcoat. she dragged him along as long as she could, but her disappointment was obvious.
he'd been born the image of his father - so he wasn't all wolf. not like her. full moons would turn him back momentarily, but for some reason the human fragment in his dna kept turning him back human eventually. by the time he was four, she didn't come home anymore - their cave cold & dark without her. in wolf years, the little wolf was old enough to take care of himself. in human years, though .. not so much, but he wasn't human despite his appearance, was he? he was a wild spirit, hands & feet dirty with claws & fangs part of his natural appearance at that point, ensuring his survival. he'd been taught how to hunt - human or otherwise, knew how to make it through the winters almost like it was instinct.
the boy would never find out what truly happened, but his mother went back into the village to find her love & got shot by the king's hunter (the huntman's father). at the age of .... ten, or something, humans found the youngling in the forest & dragged him back to their village & dropped him into the local orphanage. the only word he knew at the time. ezekiel. his name. given he was a goddess' gift to his mother. word about the wild boy traveled quick & he was chased out of town soon enough, a monster to to be banished quickly before he could wreak havoc in the village. at ten years old.
the forest was his home anyway.
as he grew older, he learned to control the shift - bit by bit, piece by piece until he was in full control of himself, though he only ever truly posed as an ordinary human when he had no other choice, which... didn't happen often. he learned to embrace the best of both sides. he was just as quick & lethal in his human form as he was as a wolf & far less prone to being mistaken for an ordinary beast. he was hated by both sides alike; animals feared him because he was a predator & because he was human, humans feared him because he was a wild beast with sharp fangs & claws he didn't bother hiding anymore.
so he embraced the beast within him.
he learned, he hunted, he failed & tried again. not all of his tales would be successes, but many of them were. or would be eventually. no, he did not want to talk about the three little pigs. really. sheep were pretty tasty, though. he'd been hunted by many over the years, killed by none. yet. by now everybody knew the forest was his territory & overstepping resulted in death. angering him ..resulted in death. smelling too good when he was nearby.... well, death. he was but a beast; a villain in their story & he saw no reason to change himself for the sake of those who exiled him when he needed them the most.
they made the big bad wolf they all feared.
truth be told, zeke never meant to turn anybody - not because he didn't want to damn another soul to live the way he did. he couldn't care less. but because he didn't like competition. he also saw no reason to; loneliness his ever loyal companion through the years. well, that was until he met someone. the first hunter to hesitate when he had his gun pointed at the wolf. the first to show ...humanity. intriguing, really - zeke had been curious why, wanted to find out what made him different than all the others, so he befriended him - in his own unique way, because zeke never had been - nor would he ever be a social creature. pack mentality or not, he was a lone wolf. part of him had felt ...hesitation for the first time, but ...well, he wanted to know if the hunter kept that purity within him when tarnished with the evil zeke had to give. he simply couldn't help himself. whenever he saw something (or someone) good, the urge to ruin it became overwhelming.
turned out even the most gentle of men couldn't ignore the moon's whispers, but that fragile companionship that had bloomed between them did not survive the bloodbath the hunter woke up to - caused by none other than himself, assisted by zeke nonetheless, but still. the next time zeke saw the other end of his gun, he didn't hesitate. it took him weeks to heal after that encounter & by the time he could infiltrate the nearest village again to see how much havoc his creation had wreaked upon the people there, he found out the hunter was no more. was he dead? he didn't bother asking.
oh well.
little did he know that decision would come to haunt him one day when the son of said huntsman stepped into his life.
zeke was better off alone anyway. he turned a few others over the decades, but mostly to mess with them. pompous royals traversing his home, hunters who stumbled across his house in the forest or others he felt deserved it. for a long while he didn't bother wasting his time on humans at all, but then he met a young man in his little red cape, begging to be led astray & zeke had been unable to resist. that boy was the first to not go mad after the bite, which... did make him special, in a way. if somewhat of a disappointment, because zeke enjoyed the chaos. but unlike the others, little red came back.
despite everything.
ezekiel couldn't tell what it was, but the boy had a strength inside him the others before him didn't. if that was luck or...not, wasn't zeke's business. he only fulfilled the role he was born into. he was a villain after all.
for the longest time, he had free reign in his forest, he hunted who he wanted to hunt, ate who he wanted to eat - including one very nosy grandfather who wouldn't take no for an answer & when he kept poking his nose into matters he had no business in, zeke took care of him. well, yes.. he ate him - swallowed him whole with not an ounce of regret, but the forest's woodsman thought himself the hero of their tale. in a moment of carelessness (or post feast bliss), zeke was caught & cut in half, the old man saved & despite the agony, the wolf ...lived to see another day. many other days, but none without the woodsman on his mind. the thirst for revenge a driving force, but not the sole purpose of his existence. the woodsman bested him once, that... wouldn't happen again.
the hunt was on.
the forest is gone.
in its place stand neat streets, traffic lights and the steady hum of a town that never truly sleeps. nowadays, ezekiel lopez spends his days behind the grill at luna's diner, trading hunts for breakfast rushes and fresh kills for burgers stacked too high to fit comfortably in anyone's hands. the food is good, the coffee is always hot and the portions generous enough that no one ever leaves hungry. he doesn't smile much, doesn't waste words when a grunt will do, but people come back anyway. maybe it's because they know the food will be waiting. maybe it's because, beneath the permanent scowl, there's something oddly dependable about the man running the place.
hunger has always been a language he understood. these days, instead of answering it with teeth and claws, he answers it with sizzling grills, generous portions and the quiet certainty that no one leaves his diner with an empty stomach.
the diner becomes his territory long before he ever thinks to call it that. he knows which regular prefers the corner booth, who takes two sugars instead of one, whose footsteps belong to the morning crowd before the bell above the door even chimes. rowdy customers rarely stay rowdy for long. ezekiel never raises his voice; he simply points toward the exit with spatula in hand, and somehow that's enough. no one quite knows why.
still, the work only keeps his hands busy, not whatever restless thing sleeps beneath his skin. closing time leaves the silence stretching too wide around him, his feet carrying him from counter to kitchen and back again as though he's waiting for something that never arrives. on nights when sleep refuses to come, he wanders the treeline surrounding the weathered house he calls home, tracing the same familiar paths until dawn begins to creep over the horizon. habit, he tells himself. nothing more.
and yet there are evenings when the wind shifts just right, carrying the scent of pine through the open window and something ancient stirs inside his chest. his pulse quickens. his teeth ache. for one impossible moment, he can almost remember what it felt like to run instead of walk... to chase instead of cook... to feast instead of serve.
then the moment passes.
the stray dogs of pellar have an uncanny habit of gathering behind the diner around closing time. ezekiel calls them freeloaders, mutters that they'll scare away customers one day and complains every time another muzzle appears at the back door. somehow, despite all that, they always seem to leave with full bellies.
if anyone asks, ezekiel lopez is simply the gruff owner of luna's diner who likes his coffee black, his steaks rare and his town quiet.
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