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braden rory o'hara
You were born in Dublin, Ireland. Your mother worked as a prostitute and you're not sure who your dad is; could have been a client, could have been a boyfriend. We don't know and we don't talk about it either. After you turned 2 years old, the both of you packed up everything you owned (which wasn't a lot to begin with) and moved to the United States.
Mum believed in the "American Dream" and that hard work would equal success like she didn't already know you'd stay in the social class you're born into - end of story. She didn't tell you what city you were in and where you would be staying but being so young, those things didn't matter as long as you were with your mummy. Well, things don't last forever, and in the dead of the night, she plopped your sleeping self into the car, drove to the nearest foster home, and plopped you down on the doorstep, still strapped to your carseat (at least she had the decency to put you in a carseat in the first place). You woke up unsure of where you were and cried for a week before settling into what was your new home now.
"Why do you act that way?" was a question you were asked a lot. You weren't shy by any means but you were reserved and kept to yourself out of fear that the other kids might tease you. Your Irish accent was fading but still detectable so the other foster kids made fun of the way you spoke and pronounced words. Your social skills also weren't the best and you didn't understand social cues and what was considered appropriate or not. The social workers just told you to not speak unless spoken to so there would be a higher chance of you being adopted but you didn't understand that and kept talking anyway.
You were moved to a new foster home after an incident with one of the other foster kids. Her hair was really pretty and you just wanted to know if it felt as soft as it looked so you pulled on it and apparently pulled too hard because a clump of her hair ripped out and she screamed and cried and the foster care workers decided that was the last straw with you and shipped you across the city to another foster home. It was there you met Atlas. He took an immediate liking to you which was great because you'd never made a friend so quickly. He took you under his wing and was like a big brother to you. The two of you were best friends and vowed to always be best friends and protect each other and stick with each other no matter what.
You're 12 years old and in middle school. You're in the remedial classes because reading and math are hard for you and the guidance counselors say you might have ADHD or dyslexia but they don't bother running tests on you because they don't really care that much. And the foster home has no money to actually send you to the doctor so they put you in the remedial classes and leave it at that, which is fine for you because nobody bothers you in these classes and you actually feel like you're learning something.
There's a redhead in the class who always tries to partner up with you during group projects. She's nice and has freckles on her face which kind of look like a flower if you connected all the dots. You think you're just friends but she has a crush on you and tries to kiss you on the bleachers after school. It's gross. You think she's nice but she's gross and you reject her kiss. She doesn't talk to you anymore after that.
Maybe it's because you're 15 and all teenagers do stupid things or because of something a little deeper but you commit your first crime at 15. It wasn't anything serious: stealing some snacks and lottery tickets from a gas station. Your "friends" convinced you to do it. They had a plan: they'd distract the cashier and you'd snatch the stuff. It worked out great until you announced you had the goods in the middle of the store. Your friends immediately booked it and left you to take the blame.
The cashier felt pity for you after seeing your confusion and sat you down to talk. She was a nice lady and after talking for a while, she mentioned that her nephew was a lot like you. He had something called autism. You wanted to ask more about it but she said she had to get back to work and that you needed to find new friends - which you did.
The foster home kicked Atlas out when he was 18 and he convinced you to run away with him. There was nothing left for you at the home so you packed what little you had and ran away with him. Atlas was your best friend and was always there to protect you so it was the easiest decision you've ever made and it was probably the best decision you could have made. Nobody else in the foster home understood you except for Atlas and he was the only one who cared about you and he was the only one you cared about as well.
You two were going to build new lives together and that excited you. Anywhere else was better than here and you wouldn't want to spend it with anyone else.
You and Atlas are on the run. You never stay in one city for long. You've resorted to petty crimes as a means for survival. Atlas assures you that what you're doing isn't that bad - you could be murderers instead - so you don't see thieving as that big of a deal anymore. The two of you don't really have any means of protection besides two small knives. You don't like inflicting pain onto other people so you usually let Atlas do the threatening. You both look intimidating with your dark hair, tall stature, and multiple tattoos but Atlas has the actual attitude to back it up.
The two of you are in San Diego and attempting to mug a guy in a suit. He pulls a gun on the both of you and gives you an ultimatum: get shot or work for him and the answer is obvious. He pays for your clothes, groceries, basically everything. All you have to do in return is give yourself up to him but when faced with the facts, that's not a bad trade. Both of you agree.
The collar around your throat tightens when Lysias pulls the leash towards him. You trip over your own two feet as your body lurches forward. You fall to your knees beside his chair. He spins around, looking at you with his dark eyes and sly smile. His hand runs through your hair and you find yourself leaning into his touch, almost mewling when he roughly pulls on it so you're on your feet.
You miscounted the money given to you from your last deal - you were never good at math anyway. It wasn't a substantial amount, Lysias won't be harmed by it at all but you still made a mistake and thus need to be punished. Most people would look at punishments with fear but not you. When Lysias has one hand on the leash and the other on your neck, a huge grin spreads across your face. Bring on the pain.
panic from hercules
occupation: drug dealer
birthday: november 5, 1992
face claim: ash stymest
member group: exitum
Braden didn't have the best luck in the foster system and that has certainly shaped him! He's gotten in with the wrong crowd more than once and now he is working for Lysias! It will be incredibly interesting to see the development happen between Braden and Atlas with their long history and same with Lysias. I'm certain those three will get into loads of trouble. Don't forget to make your claims!