Party Animal | Bro - Professional Slacker - Self-Assured
Young Adult | Mechanic
private dl if chosen hi hello howdy
Bio: (deals a bit with mental illness(Strangerville-related but still), substance abuse and sexual themes so please skip to the TL;DR to avoid details!)
It’s nothing short of a miracle that Jonesy O’Dowd is as well-adjusted as he is which, truthfully, isn’t all that much.
Dad wasn’t around. His mother was never married, though she had three children to different men. Jonesy was the eldest, his two sisters four and six years younger than him, in kind. Their dads didn’t stick around either. Their mother, Orla, lived with the fear of scientist spies taking the place of everyone around her because she saw a UFO as a child. What she needed was help, but what she got was spurned by family, by friends and by a system that should have taken care of her.
Jonesy couldn’t look after all three of them. He knew what she did and said to her children was a symptom of her illness, a symptom of her fear and the thought that someone had taken her real children and replaced them with enemies. But he’d woken more than once to her tugging him into an embrace in the middle of the night, her hands reeking of gasoline and hand soap.
Living with someone whose idea of reality was warped was a bit like swirling around in space, never certain which way was really up or down. He questioned how real he was sometimes.
Jonesy couldn’t stay out of trouble to save his life. He got into drugs and booze early, too early to think that it would change him forever. All he knew then was that he hurt and he wanted it to stop. He didn’t want to be the only parent his sisters had. He didn’t want to have to care for his mother, to run errands because she feared what lay outside her house almost more than what was inside. Jonesy didn’t want to carry so much, and it was selfish and wrong but he couldn’t help hating them as a boy for needing him. Orla couldn’t work, and all they ever knew were her small disability checks that came every month.
Drugs, alcohol, fighting and sex proved as a way to escape it all. Not forever, but for a while. And maybe some part of him hoped that coming home fucked up, convulsing on the floor until the ambulance arrived would make his mother snap, make her kick him out so he didn’t have to face the guilt of leaving her and his sisters all alone. But she never did. He bought groceries with the money he made selling weed at school but never told them where it came from. Sometimes Orla would take his hands in her thin ones(she was always so thin, like food was also an enemy) and she kissed his knuckles and praised his courage. They were brittle moments that he imagined other children felt all the time with their mothers.
The O’Dowd children came home one day to firefighters at their home. Orla set fire to their bedroom and got trapped by the flames. And Jonesy was sad, as a son should be, but in a way he was relieved. In some sick horrible way, he was glad.
The girls were still a bit young, so they went off to live with their grandparents. Jonesy was eighteen, so he took his small inheritance and set off on his own. He attended trade school in the day and worked as a bouncer at night to pay for his schooling, selling a bit on the side to make some extra cash. When he was through, he secured himself a job at an autoshop in San Myshuno. Something about it felt cathartic; he felt that the O’Dowds had always worked with their hands.
No longer working nights, it was back to partying. At first it was just the weekends but soon it was weeknights as well. He didn’t know when to stop. He had a reputation in bars and clubs for being an absolute lunatic; always ready for a fight, ready for shots, to do a line in the bathroom, to take home the first pretty thing to look his way. Passersby could hear Jonesy O’Dowd’s whooping laughter from the street. And after partying it up with Cyrus King and Don Lothario all these nights, it only seems natural that they take it up a level; partying on TV, of course!
That, and it’s as good a time as any to tell his old friend how he feels by... showing up on his... love... romance show thing... right?
Bio TL;DR:
• born to a single mom, eldest of three with two sisters
• mom lived with the belief and fear that spies were trying to replace her children
• Trouble Incarnate. got into drugs, sex and booze way too young and got into shit at school for fighting. surprisingly never got caught selling pot at school but definitely did
• mom passed away in a fire she lit when he was 18
• he went off to live on his own, attending trade school and working nights
• now a mechanic, parties hard af at night and is semi-functional by day
Personality:
• party animal to a T. Jonesy loves good music, dancing, drinking games, honestly the whole party scene is where he belongs
• not altogether truthful. Jonesy loves telling tall tales about himself to keep the truth at bay, and it kind of trickles down into just not being honest as much as he should be
• scrappy little weasel. Jonesy loves to fight and will throw hands with anyone for any reason, though he almost never takes it personally, he just likes to tussle
• in a crowd he’s a lunatic and usually the life of the party, but one on one Jonesy’s a pretty warm guy, if a cheeky bastard
• he has a hard time taking things seriously and there’s almost no scenario in which he can’t or won’t crack a joke. he loves making people laugh and has replaced being a well-adjusted man with being funny af
• always running from, hiding or smothering the things that hurt. he doesn’t know how to cope with pain, just kinda... smoosh other things on top of it until he forgets
Fun Facts:
• very Irish accent, sometimes a little hard to decipher
• a surprisingly good singer, will break out an Irish drinking song at the drop of a hat
• he did meet his dad once, it ended in a fight in the street and Jonesy spending a few hours in a holding cell
• sent a dick pic to Judith Ward
• has piercings in places that see the light of day more often than they should
• sends a bit of money to his sisters every month to make sure they’re doing alright
• his shortest relationship lasted less than twelve hours; they got together in the evening, he made waffles in the morning, she told him she doesn’t like waffles and he broke up with her
• has pretty rough and scarred hands from working with machinery
• fell asleep with a cigarette in his mouth and burned his couch
• is 6′3″, very gangly boy
• broke his nose falling out of the back of a truck. it wasn’t moving, he just fell.
just a challenge to brush off the dust of that old yearbook and show the world how your oc or ocs looked when they were teenagers! were they edgy? were they more on the nerdy side? you can share as many pics as you’d like but please if you do join I’d love to see your entries, so tag your posts using the tag #yearbookchallenge and have fun!
i was tagged by no one, just wanted to show my boys as their high school disaster selves
tagging anyone who i’ve ever spoken to who hasn’t done this yet :p
Rules: Take or find pictures of your sims at each age and post them all together so we can see how they’ve grown! Created sims, legacy sims; it doesn’t matter. You can share one sim or all of them, from babies though elders if they’ve gotten that far. Just have fun! Tag it #MySimThroughTheYears so I can see! 💜
I was tagged by no one, I just thought it would be fun to show Cyrus’ evolution. The man may be a disaster sometimes but he’s much better than he used to be.
I tag @waysims, @himbosims, @signal-echo, @ohsosims, @simmei, @crowfootedsims, @lilypixels and anyone else that wants to give it a try!
GINO: I think what you’re doing here is really amazing. I’d be lying if I said I expected it from you.
CYRUS: Yeah well, I’d hate to have kids have to go through what I did.
GINO: Your family wasn’t the accepting type, then?
CYRUS: What tipped it off? The drug habit or just my general disdain for saying anything about myself?
GINO: How much you care about everyone around you.
CYRUS: What?
GINO: That’s what told me. Not the things about yourself you think are broken, but the ways you try to make sure that no one else is.
CYRUS: Careful, you’re getting dangerously close to figuring out I’m not just a stupid rich playboy. You might not like what out find.
GINO: I’m still here, aren’t I?
CYRUS: For now.
GINO: You can’t push me away, Cyrus. You’re not that man. Not anymore.
CYRUS: Shows how much you still don’t know me.
GINO: I could if you let me. You don’t have to build your walls so high.
CYRUS: Maybe I just want to see who cares enough to climb them.
GINO: Even those who care the most get tired eventually. You have to meet people in the middle, you can’t keep testing them until they prove you right.
