CHARACTER INFORMATION
face claim: Chris Wood
full name: Lincoln Andrew Scott
nickname(s) / goes by: Linc/Lincoln
pronouns & gender: he/him & cis man
sexuality: heterosexual
birth date: April 19th, 1988
birth place: Thomasville, Georgia
arrival to merrock: December 2022
housing: Apartment in Historical Downtown
occupation: Firefighter
work place: Town hall - Fire Dept
family: Elizabeth Stewart (estranged wife)
relationship status: Legally married to Libby Stewart, but single
PERSONALITY
Give him a pint of beer or whiskey, and some kind of activity to do (like fixing trucks, or playing cornhole) and he’ll be your best friend. Country boy at heart, he never says no to helping people. He has a big heart, and isn’t afraid to show that. Always driving around in his red pick-up truck with the windows down blasting various country artists.
WRITTEN BY: Kay (she/her), est.
BACKGROUND / BIO
Trigger warnings: mentions of teenage pregnancy, childhood cancer, cancer, death, miscarriage, divorce.
Lincoln Andrew Scott was born and raised just outside of Thomasville, Georgia on a small farm. His parents were always around, and he had grown up the oldest out his siblings. Being in a household of all males, he quickly became accustomed to helping out on the farm, doing some yard work for his father, and driving into town with his family to go shopping every weekend. Don’t let him fool you though, he’s absolutely a mamma’s boy. Since, he was the oldest, Lincoln felt as if he needed to continue to be the role model for his two brothers.
Walking to school for most of his life, he really started to enjoy the outdoors more and more. He did pretty well in school. Wasn’t really one for the best grades, but he enjoyed the social aspect of it all. Being a football player, on prom court, etc. Lincoln would tell you he wasn’t on the “popular” side of school, but he was. He didn’t let it go to his head. In fact, he did everything he could to make sure people saw him as the “sweet boy who helped people with their groceries,” or “the one who helped their kid with homework.” He always got a sense of pride and appreciation when he knew he had helped someone.
Growing up, Lincoln had a lot of friends. He was always surrounded by friends in his life, and he wouldn’t have had it any other way. One person in particular stuck out to him. Elizabeth Stewart. Libby. Best friends, forever. He was always protective of her. After finally gathering the courage to tell her how he felt (and she had miraculously not found him repulsive), they had started dating. He had already loved her with his entire heart since they were younger. He couldn’t see himself without her in his life. He was surprised when she came up to him claiming that she was pregnant. He had done everything correctly. At least he thought he had. He was a junior in high school. Seventeen. He wasn’t expecting to have a baby. Either way, he wasn’t going to let her go through it alone, and he was okay with whatever she had wanted to do. He loved her. When his daughter was born, it was like the world stopped. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to catch his breath again. Freida Rose Scott was the most beautiful baby he had ever seen, and he felt so proud of have both Libby and Freida that school didn’t matter much to him anymore.
Lincoln did everything he could. Helped out around the farm, changed countless diapers, never forgot to kiss Libby goodnight. He proposed after graduation, and they got married not too long after. Lincoln had been keeping an eye on a small house on the edge of a street for a while when Libby had said she was pregnant, and was able to buy it with the help of their parents. He had worked towards becoming a firefighter during the first few months of marriage. He knew he liked to help people, and quickly became attached to the idea. Working as a firefighter, he knew he belonged there. The family he had grown attached to, the feeling of accomplishment. Knowing that he was doing what he could to be a good man, son, brother, husband, and father.
It all came crashing down when Lincoln and his wife found out their baby girl had been diagnosed with a rare form of leukemia. They had been twenty-one. That entire year, they spent it in hospital rooms. About a year after getting diagnosed, Frieda Rose passed away in her sleep. Lincoln became a bit lost for a while, picking a few fights with Libby. He felt as if he had failed in the sense of not protecting his baby girl. The overwhelming feeling of not being able to do anything to help. Twenty-three year old Lincoln had sat down one night with Libby and asked to try again for another baby. He wanted to be a father. He wanted to heal the wounds of his family, and thought another child would help that. Libby had gotten pregnant, that much he knew, and he was excited again. A few weeks after she told him she was pregnant again, she miscarried. Lincoln’s heart cracked a bit down the center, but he wanted to make sure he was there for Libby and held her when she cried that night. The next day after he came home from a few hours at the firehouse, there was a note on the table. His wife had left him. Nothing except for “I’m not coming back.” His heart had officially been torn in half. He didn’t go look for her, knowing that she probably needed her space.
He stayed in the small house on the end of the street for three years, stuck with the memories of his wife and babies. He worked, overtime. Drank on his nights off. After finally giving up on the thought that Libby would return, twenty-six year old Lincoln sold the house, and decided to move down to Tallahassee, Florida. Just enough space from home, but close enough to go back had she ever returned again. He kept in touch with his parents, and younger brothers. Tried to keep in touch with both his mothers-in-law, and siblings-in-law, but it ended up just turning into birthdays, and holidays that he would call them. After he had turned 31, his mamma had called him. His pop had died from a heart attack. The grown man that had taught him who to be was gone. Lincoln did everything he could to push away the pain of the past ten years, but ultimately the weight of it all was too much. Being 34 now, he recently got served with divorce papers. It had been ten years, and Elizabeth Stewart and Lincoln Scott were still married on paper. He happened to glance at the address on the papers, and decided maybe it was time for him to take his life into his own hands again, and confront the ghosts of his past.
Now he’s here in Merrock. Just arrived in December. Have barely even unpacked his boxes just yet on account of not knowing if he was planning on staying. He got transferred to the firehouse in Merrock and is currently trying to get the lay of the land in this northern state where he’s freezing his balls off, and doesn’t understand the accents.
