who: @preyfm
what: a reunion!
where: pucks apartment
Boxes still littered the place, and the couch hadn’t been moved from the center of the living room, but it already felt like home. For the first time in his life, Puck had his own place, completely his, and who cared if it was a shithole, it was his damn shithole! He hadn’t been able to hold it in for long, firing off a text to Micah, the first time in months, to invite the dude over.
Then, he’d cracked himself a beer, kicked his legs up on an unpacked box, cause he knew his buddy was coming. It was the same energy he answered the door with, beer still in hand, “Dude! Did you sprint here or something? I barely had time to get into this beauty.” He gestured with the can, allowing his friend inside, “Come and check out the place, its pretty cool, if I do say so myself..”
when: early evening
where: eve’s place
who: @pucksanders
x.
The stale taste of desperation hung thick in the air, a tar in the lungs as men and women gathered around the stages like half starved dogs begging for scraps. With a gentle salute of his half empty glass to the girls on stage he continued nursing his glass against the crook of his arm. The day had felt long, at the end of a long week, in the middle of a long month somewhere in the middle of a long life. He was tired, but would never admit it. No, Julian Connor was the type to hide behind a mask of raised voices and the promise of violence.
“Really. Puck? You couldn’t think of a better name Dylan?!” A whispered snarl rolling off his lips at the use of the ridiculous cover identity Dylan had crafted for himself. Running a hand across his face he begged for the strength to go on. While he might not be the sort to guide and teach others, those that had the misfortune of having him as their mentor had left a lasting impression on him. There were times in prison when he found himself anxiously hoping they were still alive, only to remember that he was the one that helped train them. Of course they would be fine. Well most of them, those more like Micah and Puck had a tendency to lean into the wilder side. “Name aside, it is good to see ya here kid.”
- - -
New place, new HQ, and so much had changed. But, to Puck, it felt so eeriely familiar to before. He couldn’t tell these days if it was deja vu, or rose colored glasses, not that he really knew the difference between those two. Brina had tried to explain it to him once, she had always tried to explain things to him, but he never understood it. More importantly, it was fucking good to be back.
“Look, I didn’t know the Glee thing when I picked it.” He held his hands up in innocence, hoping to soften down the reaction from Julian. Was it weird to admit that he’d even kind of missed being told off? “The chick I was fuckin’ told me that it was something Shakespeare. I googled it, and she’s right, but no one fuckin’ knows that!” His face betrayed the fact he wasn’t all that annoyed, as it shifted into a smile, “Its good to see you too. I bet you guys all missed me heaps, huh?”
☽ [ Cody Christian, He/him , Male ] ☾ [ Dylan ‘PUCK’ Sanders] has lived in [ the waterhole ] for [ 3 weeks ] now. the [ 26 ] year old [ human ] is the [ prospect ] for the [reapers ]. but they also make an honest earning as a [ trainer ] for [ the crowbar]. truthfully, they remind me of [ sheepskin jackets, the haze of city lights from afar, the dregs of a whiskey bottle ]. whenever it’s their turn to be the getaway driver, they blast [ angels and demons by JXDN ] on full volume. ☼☼
Basics
NAME: Puck.
BORN: Dylan Sanders
GENDER: Cis Male, he/him
SPECIES: Human
AGE: 26
SEXUALITY: Pansexual
GANG: Reapers
OCCUPATION: Trainer
Biography
Dylan, as he was once known (And still responds to, that idiot) was born on a sunny August day in California. It was incredibly apparent from the time that Dylan was young, his dad was not planning on being any kind of parent.
Which was fine. His Mom and him were fine, although barely making ends meet while she worked long hours as a nurse. His dad drifted in and out of the picture, mostly having a negative impact on Dylan when he was around. Dylan learnt the smell of loser well before he even knew the word.
When he was 6, his dad left, for good. Or so he thought. Two years later, he popped back up, just long enough to convince Dylan’s Mom back into the house, and to father yet another kid, Sabrina, before he finally did fuck off for good.
With two kids now, it was even harder to make ends meet in a state that wasn’t very kind to the lower class. Dylan’s Mom worked more, leaving most of the raising of Brina to Dylan. They were fine, though, Dylan told himself, until he got to highschool and had his first experience with the idea of family.
He wasn’t great at football, but it was nice to have something to put all his anger into, and a crowd of guys who really felt like they could be brothers to him. His feelings were misplaced though, because the moment he started hindering the team more than his meager passes helped them, he got kicked off the team.
Which was fine. He went back to spending all his afternoons with Brina, forgetting to do homework, and cursing the world for being cruel. He skated by, barely graduating at all, with no purpose in life.
That was until, he discovered the reapers, and hunting supernaturals became incredibly fascinating. He quickly became a prospect, not quite making it up the ranks before the gang ‘disbanded.’ With Brina only 10, and no way for his sister to survive without him, Dylan couldn’t follow. All he could do was reband himself, never telling anyone more than his name, Puck now, and he ambled through life trying to find another purpose.
With Brina gone off to community college now, Puck really had nothing tying him to California. It didn’t take long until he was setting himself up to move, to Skull Arizona, and he’s been here for three weeks now, setting himself up.
