[carlos miranda — 35 — he/them] Introducing ARLO NAVA BELLO. Word on the street is they are a PRIVATE INVESTIGATOR, having been around for SIX MONTHS. Though they are NOSY and PRIDEFUL, they can also be CHARASMATIC and ASTUTE. In the chaos of New York City, they’re sure to fit right in.
✉ FUN FACT: makes the ugliest ceramic pieces known to man, but still fires them and uses them in his dinky office.
CONNECTIONS
SUMMARY .
investigator / informant for hire. civilian for now.
can and will handle himself in tight situations by being extremely resourceful, but isn’t for unnecessary harm. the aftermath’s too much of a hassle and he’s not made of money. lawyers are expensive as shit.
passionate about cooking / ceramics but isn’t…… that great at them. makes the ugliest and most wrangled looking cups ever.
though still new in town, they're connections spread like wildfire. friendly, a huge flirt. not unheard of to accept objects / favors as payment ( yes, they should take money — he’s aware ).
BIOGRAPHY .
There’s always been a bit of anger in them from the very start. Something their mother claimed to have come from their estranged father, but that's okay because they also had parts of her, too — gentler ones that would hopefully quell any uprising of temper.
Being born into a family of two failed fathers created a continuous breeding ground for rumors. Ones for each Bello sibling’s respective peers, their families, and even the adults spread within the neighborhood. How their mother dealt with such backlash ( both upfront and passive ) will never be known to either of them. Although, Arlo often debated that their brother gleaned more from her example than them.
It’s bad luck that Arlo’s peers were of the nasty sort. They continuously picked on them for things that didn’t matter, just as a leeway to stir up trouble and have them take the blame once caught. And though their brother told them time and time again that fighting back wasn’t worth it.. Well, even their saint of a brother couldn’t uphold his own words sometimes. Even he cracked and let vitriol guide his fists to shut the sneers and unjustified taunting. Not that he’d ever let Arlo see that, of course, but word traveled like wildfire.
Just into their teens, Arlo was caught in yet another dumb argument. They'd been in the way of this posse’s route and had the nerve to bump shoulders with one of them. They hadn’t touched a single hair on their straggly head, but what did it matter? They pushed and shoved at Arlo, testing their thinly kept patience until it snapped just like they wanted.
Six against one — needless to say, things were rough throughout the spat.
And if that wasn’t bad enough, there’d been two older kids around. Both of which were there to pick up their younger siblings to walk home. Just like their brother was sent to do, albeit a little late due to his own close call with a fight right at the dismal bell. Yet their brother arrived just in time to see what was about to happen. How those ingrates had the intent to seriously harm Arlo for standing up for themselves. Thus, their brother flung himself into the frenzy, blinded by red for seconds until he had the sense to grab Arlo and run.
The cleanup afterward is what sticks to them the most. How they cried and cried about how unfair everything was. Hadn’t they suffered enough already? Why do they keep saying such shitty things about them? What good does it do to act right if they don’t do the same? It’s unfair, unfair, unfair. And their brother agreed. He let Arlo spit out their emotions and hurt while he carefully patched them both up. He wiped their tears, told them how strong they were but this shouldn’t happen again. Nothing good ever comes from destruction and hatred. Yet even his brother's words sounded weak to his own ears and it’s clear that Arlo didn’t agree.
Still, his brother hugged Arlo until they stopped crying, made sure that they had something ready to eat for dinner, and then left for his part time as if nothing happened. And that was the worst of it all. How easily their brother took things in stride even when it didn’t get better because of it. So they decided to callous their fists and sharpen their wits right then and there. Just to survive school. Just for a little while...
Except the penchant to shoot first and ask later rooted itself too deeply. It wasn't until years later did they try ease the rage. Truly think through things and use words as both sword and shield into their growth as a PI.
