Congratulations Sweet Tooth, and welcome to Skybourne University! You’ve been accepted as your desired character Marco Castillo. We loved your writing sample for Marco. You really showed the emotional struggle he was dealing with after being fired and are excited to see you play him on the dash. Be sure to set up your main account within 24 hours and sent it to us with the ask box open so we can send you a link to the OOC blog. Also be sure to do everything on the new member checklist.
OOC INFORMATION
nickname: Sweet Tooth (ST) time zone: EST age: 22 pronouns: he/him/his contact: removed password: removed how did you find us?: I saw your promos in a couple of the RPG promo tags. do you have any triggers that need tagged?: removed
CANON CHARACTER APPLICATION
character name: Marco Castillo sexuality (if up to roleplayer): Bisexual major (if up to roleplayer): N/A hero name (if up to roleplayer): N/A secondary choice: N/A why this character?: what drew you to this character? While I was looking through your character list, Marco immediately stood out to me due to his personality and history. I am very intrigued by the idea of playing a character who is “past his prime,” so to speak, and is perhaps not dealing with that in the best way, which is the impression that I get from his bio. I also really like his intense and arguably tumultuous relationship with music, and I think that would be really interesting to explore. Overall, he seems like a really enjoyable character to play, and I think that his story could go in some interesting directions. headcanons:
Marco used to listen to his own music all the time, manipulating the sounds as they came out of the stereo to experiment with new sounds, but after his fall from grace he hardly listens to music at all anymore. This is not something that he does consciously.
While he would never admit it, Marco sometimes browses around the internet to find remixes of his own work. While outwardly he scoffs at it, he is actually very interested by other’s interpretations of his work, and sometimes uses those influences when composing new works.
While working on his Masters, he fancied one of the professors at Julliard and flirted with him for years. They ended up having a one night stand after he finished his Masters program, but the professor rejected any further advances from him, saying that it was a mistake that would never be repeated. This still bothers Marco to this day, as he is used to getting his way.
additional connections?: N/A anything else?: How publicly known outside of the university is the fact that he has powers? I know in his bio that it mentioned that he was able to mostly keep it a secret from his peers when he was younger, but is that still the case? sample in character:
The music that sounds throughout the room is slow, soft, the sweet sounds of violin trailing easily through the air as if they’re the most natural sounds the world has to offer. At the center of it all stands Marco Castillo, breathing slowly, steady, his eyes shut as he gently bows the beautiful instrument that he holds so delicately with his chin, shoulder, and hand. Legato, legato, staccato, legato. He switches between the two with ease, deciding as he goes that he likes the slur better, and with an exhale, he switches the sound so it all blends more easily.
He’s done it thousands of times before, the motions of it as natural to him as breathing. As he plays, he allows himself to become lost in the music, the sounds lulling him into that creative space that has become so elusive to him, and a feeling of warmth flows into his chest. It’s like being under a pile of blankets that smell like jasmine and lavender, familiar smells - it’s like home. The music slowly becomes louder, but maintains that gentleness, and he smiles to himself, moving his torso with his arm as he bows.
I’m sorry, but we’re going to have to let you go.
His smile twitches downward into a frown at the unwelcome memory, and his gentle crescendo morphs rather suddenly into a sforzando. It’s not the sweetest of sounds that he could possibly make, and he feels a pluck of anger. Nonetheless, he presses forward, although the words begin to repeat themselves in his head over and over. We’re going to have to let you go. Three notes in legato morph into three notes into staccato. We’re going to have to let you go. The three notes again, harsher this time, the melody moves from major to minor. We’re going to have to let you go. It’s a motif now, and he’s playing faster as he lets the motif transition into something else, and with each note the sound becomes deeper, more and more distant from the sound of violin.
It’s the end of the Hasta Luegos, and yes, it’s because of you.
His frown deepens as the notes become stranger and stranger, and before long it’s not even recognizable as violin, the once gentle crescendos turning into something too alien to be understood by human ears as string music. Up. Up. Work with me. They rise up again, once more sounding like the natural tones of the violin, although in the ominous notes one can almost hear voices, their words like curses echoing throughout the room. What was once peaceful and beautiful has become faster and darker, like a thick smoke and a hot fire burning rapidly through a tranquil forest. It’s okay, breathe, just breathe, come back down. And they do for a moment, a soft moment where he feels himself breathe easier. And then, as it always does, another memory comes back to him, an intrusive thought that he has not learned how to shut the door on.
I’m leaving you, Marco.
Suddenly, the notes become alien once more, and his heart thuds against his chest, his jaw clenches in anger, and the tune becomes a cacophony of noise, the sound of a great rage bubbling bubbling bubbling to the surface - and abruptly he stops bowing, and the sounds die with a great scream.
Fuck it.
He opens his eyes to the empty room around him, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath. Even the soft blues and yellows of his living room seem to fill him with a great anger, and as he continues to hold the violin he must resist the urge to smash it to the ground. Don’t think about it. You’re so much better than all of them. You’ll get it back. He thinks those lies to himself as he lowers the violin, at last stepping forward to place it back in its rest. He looks to the window, out at the beautiful garden, the gentle sunshine beaming in through the windows. He forces a smile onto his face, trying his hardest to push the echoes of the horrible sounds out of his mind. It’s not the first time that it’s happened, and he knows that it’s not the last. Taking a deep breath, he stands up straight once more, his eyes fluttering shut.
You’ll prove them all wrong.