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the boy hadn't been too alarmed at Moonie's comment. "Yeah, dude, art is rad," he told the boy, happy to receive relief from reading the business bible he'd been assigned. "The arts are what keep us human, I think. Without them we'd probably be one jerk of a species and end up killing ourselves off." Maybe he shouldn't have gone so dark so quickly with someone he'd just met. It'll be fine, he told himself. (No it won't) Moonie took a deep breath. Yes it will. (Are you sure?)
"Of course, I don't really do art myself. I stick to music, cause it's what I'm good at. But I definitely can appreciate the work that others do, ya know?" Moonie told him, pushing his thoughts out of his mind the best he could. He knew that he probably shouldn't be talking in the library, but hell, there were several groups making quite a bit of noise throughout the place so it couldn't matter too much.
Moonie leaned back in his chair a little, reaching into his bag, grabbing a couple of his CBD gummies from a small container and popped them into his mouth. He couldn't smoke everywhere. One of the small problems with his medication could easily be solved with edibles, and in situations like these, Moonie was thankful. "So how long have you been drawing?" he asked. (He hates you) Shut up.
was rare for Moonie to have to go to the library for a book. These days nearly everything is available digitally. Thankfully. However, this wasn't one of those situations. Moonie bit his lip, pushing his way through the crowded halls towards the Bellefonte library. While it was nice having such an extensive library at his fingertips, it also came with situations where he'd be assigned to read extremely old books that could only be found in this library. Well. Unless you were an important book nerd with lots of access to obscure books that you probably wouldn't want to read in the first place.
As the door to the library closed behind Moonie, he realized what he had just gotten himself into. The library was packed, full of groups of younger students bustling and whispering amongst themselves. Must be group project time for the highschool students. This is what happens when you procrastinate. You go on the last day and it's the worst time. Nodding to the woman behind the desk, Moonie made his way to the oldest section of the business category. Probably didn't help that the professor for the class was several centuries old.
Sliding the book off the shelf, Moonie looked around for a place to sit. It was an opportunity to push himself to be more social, but it didn't help his anxiety too much. Of course he could check the book out and just do everything at home, but it was likely that he'd probably get distracted in his apartment and miss his due date. Moving towards the back, head on a swivel, Moonie finally found a nearly empty table. Seated at the very back was a younger student, probably a good idea to occupy the back area, since it was much quieter.
Moonie sat himself down into a chair at the table. "Hope you don't mind too much, everywhere else is full up and super loud," he told the boy sitting at the table, before digging into his assigned reading. Realizing that he had forgotten to grab his notes, Moonie's arm stretched out abnormally, flicking through folders in his bag before producing a newer looking composition notebook and shrinking back down to normal length.
The book was boring. Holy hell was it boring. It was probably the most dated, uninteresting thing he'd ever been assigned to read. After a while of taking notes and trying to transcribe the seemingly 12th century language, Moonie's gaze sought after the books on the table. Nearly all of them seemed to have one thing in common: art. Doing his best not to be rude or intrusive, Moonie stretched his neck a little bit to get a good look at what his table-mate was up to.
"Oh that looks cool," Moonie said to the boy quietly, hoping that he'd hear despite the low roar that permeated the front of the room.
seemed pretty clear to Moonie that he should change the subject. It was hard. And everyone had to work through things in their own way. Gwin hadn't asked for any help, although it seemed clear that she needed it. It wasn't hard for Moonie to back away from Gwin, he'd only just met her. The last thing anyone needs is for a stranger to come up and give you lectures on life. Everyone thinks they've got it all figured out. They have no idea.
As Gwin stood, Moonie's gaze shifted away towards the shore line. The sun was beginning to lower itself towards the beautiful surface of the Oregon beach, and it was getting much colder. Looking over at his jacket, Moonie's arms stretched unnaturally far, grasping the cold black leather, before sliding it around his lanky silhouette. Standing, Moonie looked back at Gwin, now fully dressed.
"It's getting dark and cold as fuck, so I'm gonna walk back. You're welcome to walk with, but do what you want," Moonie told her before turning to walk away. He'd thought he'd come have a nice stoney time on the beach, and that's what he got. Well. Sort of. Any amount of face to face social interaction was good for him, he knew this, but whether or not someone like Gwin could be good for him remained to be seen.
Most people see life as a journey, but that idea seemed silly to Moonie. Journeys always have an end that people are racing towards, and the end of life is death, so it didn't seem to make much sense to run straight towards death. Even if you're having a particularly bad time, there's still something inside that compels you to keep on living, no matter the cost. And once that thing dies, soon shall you. What happens after death means nothing. Death implies life, and like always, the spiral tightens.
Moonie's elasticity had manifested, it was a lot to control and get a handle on. It was nearly like growing a new arm and having to find out how to control it. It was painful. It was exhausting. And it was frustrating. So Moonie empathized with Gwin very much.
"I know it sounds cliche, but it really does get better. The more you work at it, the less it gets in the way, and the less you feel out of control. It took me a long ass time to reign in control of my elasticity. It hurt. I didn't even really notice a difference until years later. For some people it comes naturally. They're lucky," Moonie spoke softly, relaxing into the sand.
"Losing everything is absolutely hard. I'm lucky enough to still be in contact with my family. They're too poor to visit very often, so it's still been pretty lonely. I've been here forever but you're the first person I've spoken to purposely in years. But it doesn't have to be that way, ya know. When things are out of your control, you have two choices. Sit in place and be bitter about it, or take your shitty situation and run with it," tufts of curly hair blew into Moonie's mouth and nose causing him to stop for a moment and brush it away, his curly locks blending back into one another, "I don't mean to preach at you at all. You can choose to do whatever you want. I've only just met you, and I have no plans of forcing you to do anything. Not that type of guy. But I've been thinking about it this way: You've lost everything. You have nothing. When cities get hit with massive natural disasters or bombs or whatever, they don't just disappear. They rebuild. And they move on."
Moonie was very aware that it was easier said than done. He was still trying this technique himself. But he couldn't not try and help. That wasn't who he was. "It's ok to be not ok. I don't have everything figured out. And that's ok. We'll get there, ya know?"
Turning on his side, Moonie dug through his jean pockets, quickly finding his wallet. He produced a small piece of cardboard before returning the worn leather wallet back into his jeans. It felt weird having a "business" card at 21, but it was something that his professors insisted on business majors having. Might as well get used to the situation before it comes, they say. The card included his place of employment, his position, and several different ways of contacting him all tucked neatly underneath his full name. Moonie handed his card over to Gwin.
"I'm not a shrink or anything, and I can tell you don't want one. But I'm a person who understands, even just a little. That's my 'business card'. Don't be afraid to hit me up if you need anything. And I mean anything. Just don't call if it's not an emergency. You can text me, or whatevs though, that's chill. Everybody needs somebody in their corner."
I'm cool with pretty much anything. When it comes to specific scenarios, it's probably better to talk to me out of character about it so we can find the best way doing it. Other than that, I can pretty much write my way out of most situations. Just talk to me, we can work nearly anything out.
ACTIVITY
► How often can you reply to a thread?
I reply whenever I feel like, so it can be from anywhere between immediately and two weeks (tops). I work full time and also struggle with personal issues so it can really vary, but I try and limit myself to a week. Basically get ahold of me if you're curious and I'll let you know. If you bug me enough I'll reply for sure.
► How long are you willing to wait for a reply to a thread?
I'll wait a week before I contact you about it, and I'll probably get bored and forget about the thread if two weeks pass. Just let me know if you're not feeling up to it, I'll definitely understand.
► What about volleying?
I love to vollley when I have the time, cause it really gets my creative juices flowing and thats hot. But I'm a busy person so it doesn't always happen.
► Tagging
Tag me, honey, I don't care.
► Contacting you?
If you DM on Discord, I will absolutely reply to you, as it comes directly to my cellphone. If you can't use discord, it's also effective to use the message system built into the forum.
While I'm on central time, I work erratic hours, so don't even worry about "well he might be asleep I don't wanna bother him."
► Anything else?
Just talk to me.
LIMITS
► Godmodding
Please no. I'm absolutely against godmodding. Maybe if we talk about it beforehand, otherwise absolutely not.
► Romance
Romance is wonderful. I love it when it's natural, I love everything romance in general. I'm okay with my character being stomped on emotionally, or being lifted up, it doesn't really matter. That's what makes it a human experience.
My characters will respond differently to situations, so check in with me first if you're feeling a situation come on or if you might have something in particular in mind.
► Violence
I don't like physical or sexual abuse whatsoever. So lets keep that in horror stories and depressing backgrounds, eh?
Shouting fights and combat are fine with me, I'd just like a heads up if something big like that is coming. If it's in character and makes sense, I'm all for it.
I started forum roleplay on an extremely old Naruto AURP so I'm pretty familiar with combat role-play. However, this forum doesn't really focus on combat, and I wouldn't like to either. So if a fight is necessary, I'm down, if it isn't let's try and find something else interesting.
► Sex
Flirting and sexual diologue is fine, but please please please don't expect me to write smut. Let's leave it to extremely vague discriptors and maybe a fade out scene if things get steamy. I can't deal.
had become very clear to Moonie by now, that most things that would shoot lightning bolts of anxiety through the core of his being were disarmed by the occupation of THC in his system. Talking to a nearly naked stranger was up there on that list, for sure. Moonie mused these thoughts around in his head, slowly letting himself sink into a lying position in the sand next to his companion.
Gwin seemed to have such disdain towards being a mutant, and in turn herself. It made a lot of sense. You spend all of this time building a sense of who you are, for it to all be ripped out from under you. Moonie closely examined her, his tan eyes matching the sand beneath him. She looked old enough to be starting college. How did she manage to cling onto this type of self hatred for so long? It wasn't any of Moonie's business, but alas, he couldn't help but think about it.
"I used to always get asked what I wanted to be when I grew up," Moonie began, "and I think that's kind of a silly thing to ask a child. Like why would you make this kid figure out a plan for his life before they even know who they are? And then you get people like us, 'fucking mutants'," he chuckles at the phrase, "who are getting close to it, only to be set back again by manifestation. Like I had friends and a girlfriend. And then before I knew it was being dragged off to butt-fuck nowhere Montana, where these people were supposed to teach me how to be a 'regular person' like I wasn't one anymore. I think that's probably why we have counselors and stuff, but not everybody wants to go to talk to a spook because of adjustment issues or whatever's bothering them, ya know." Moonie wasn't asking a question. He wasn't even really aiming anything particular at Gwin, only rambling whatever was going on in his head.
Moonie turned his head in the sand to look over at Gwin, doing his best to ignore the bareness of her skin, and smiled. "Sorry for rambling. If it ain't out loud, it's for sure gonna be in my head," he spouted. He winked at her before turning his head back to look up at the sky. If only he could be like a cloud, unpressured in which direction to go, only drifting along wherever he needed to be.
turned away very quickly at the sight of her bare skin, blushing. He was glad that she accepted the jacket, but he hadn't anticipated seeing her so exposed. He looked off into the horizon, trying to brush off the fact that his face was beat red. It wasn't like he had never seen anything like that, or anything, just a bit of a surprise.
Moonie sat in her company for a while, listening as she changed the music. It was nice to be out of the apartment. He couldn't remember the last time he went somewhere that he didn't have to go to. Doing things for the sake of doing them. Life is hard. That's one thing that's undisputable.
Gwin's reaction to seeing Moonie's powers wasn't much of a big deal. Of course some people aren't going to like mutants. Hell, people start wars over skin tone and religion, so this wasn't much different. Still, Moonie felt like he had to clear the air a little.
"Yeah, I'm a 'fucking mutant'. But we don't really get a choice in the matter, you know? One second you're normal, and the next you're being shipped off to some school in Montana because the government says so," Moonie explained, almost like he was recalling a story from long long ago. "I have just as much choice in being a mutant as you do in being a beautiful woman. You just are. You don't get a choice," Moonie stopped for a moment to laugh, before beginning again, "My body being able to stretch is just the same as my hair being a perennial Jew-fro. It's the cards we're dealt. You just kinda make the most of it. It's part of who you are."
Leaning against one arm, Moonie looked back at Gwin, offering his blunt. "You want a hit off of this? It's got a pretty nice flavor. Way different than a tobacco blunt." Moonie smiled warmly at Gwin, waiting for her response. Having a medical card had many benefits, including access to lots of different types of weed. And each strain available had a different smell, taste, and effect, which was more than he'd known before he'd started medicating regularly.
seemed pretty dismissive. That's fair, Moonie thought, they didn't really know each other. To be honest, Moonie probably wouldn't have even approached her if he hadn't been high already. That type of interaction would have been too much for him to even attempt. But cannabis was an effective medicine for his needs, and there he sat.
Of course she was cold. How could she not be? A towel doesn't do much in the way of warmth. Moonie placed the blunt between his lips, and began to remove his jacket, taking a drag here and there out of one side of his mouth, while letting the smoke out through the other side. He was wearing a sweater underneath, so it didn't make much of a difference to him either way. Moonie took his jacket and placed it into the woman's lap. "You're welcome to borrow this. My sweater is fine enough to break the chill," he explained.
Moonie's attention turned back to the blunt, as he took a few more drags, enjoying the nice even burn. There was something about smoking that relaxed him, other than the drug itself. It was such a wonderful medicine, and he was very happy he decided to make the change in medication when he was given the opportunity. "I just got this Cookie OG strain. I hadn't tried it before now, but I quite like it," Moonie said, his arms lifting above his head for a stretch. They didn't stop where normal arms would, however. They stretched much further, nearly quadrupling in length, and Moonie sighed in relief from his stretch. His arms slowly shrunk back town to their original length, as he reached for the blunt sitting between his lips, almost halfway smoked already.
"I'm Moonie, by the way. It's nice to meet you...?" Moonie said, his sentence forming a question at the end, curious of his stoney beach companion.
had been quite a while since Moonie had gotten out of his apartment for anything other than class or work. This new regime seemed to be working wonders for his mental health, and so there he walked across the beach's sands, each step creating a boot imprint that would soon be washed away by the call of the ocean. It was cold; the type of cold that makes you want to sit inside and watch movies all day. But Moonie embraced the cool air. It was far better than a hot and sticky summer, and that's all there was to it.
Maybe it wasn't exactly a good idea to carry cannabis in public, but it didn't really matter too much. Who'd come to the beach this time of year anyways? For all that it was worth, Moonie wasn't in public. It would be fine, he assured himself, the cannabinoids taking ahold of his brain ensuring that he wouldn't spiral off into an anxiety hurricane. Hurricanes. Those were giant spirals. Extremely destructive, but even those had a calm in the middle. Much better than if it only intensified the closer you got to the center, never actually reaching the middle before it tears you into bits and pieces.
Soon, a woman came into view. She had just been sitting there on the beach, wrapped in a towel. Moonie thought he had been alone on the beach. He had been wrong, it seemed. He analyzed the towel quickly. A towel means she's wet, but why would anyone be trying to swim in this weather. To each their own, he decided to himself. Maybe it would be a good idea to check on her to make sure she didn't need any help or something. It couldn't hurt too much, and she seemed to be upwind, so there wasn't much of a chance of her catching a whiff of the loud that sat permeating inside the pocket of Moonie's leather jacket.
Moonie approached carefully, as to not surprise the stranger. "Hello, there," he said in the friendliest fashion he could muster. "Are you okay out here?" he asked. The smell pointed him to the joint in her hands very quickly. Oh. It was okay. She gets it. Without asking for permission, Moonie lowered himself into a sitting position a couple feet from where the woman sat. The Clash was playing softly, causing Moonie to mouth a couple of the words. "Ain't nothing wrong with The Clash," he declared, his reddened eyes sizing up the stranger.
Quickly, Moonie reached into his jacket pocket, and turned a hemp blunt over in his hands. "Hope you don't mind if I join you, I just like nature sessions sometimes," he gushed, before placing the sweet tasting hemp wrap to his lips and igniting the end. Moonie leaned his head back and drew the smoke into his lungs before puffing it into the air, a massive cloud permeating between the mixture of the smoke and the warm moisture in the cold Oregon air.
Moonie doesn't have many friends at Bellefonte and just recently decided to try and be a bit more socially involved. Moonie is pretty easy to get along with on a good day, as he's pretty laid back and respectful. On bad days, he often retreats into himself and seems spaced out. It could be very beneficial for him to find someone to help him come out of his shell a bit more and push him to be more social. But Moonie could also find himself friends with someone who doesn't mind his mental illness and can relax with him on those off days in a stress free environment. Moonie likes to play video games, talk about music, and smoke marijuana, and he'll be pretty likely to mesh with someone with shared interests.
ENEMIES
Moonie is pretty respectful and easy to get along with, but that doesn't make everything rainbows and daisies. He absolutely hates people who are disrespectful. Moonie also doesn't tolerate thieves or cheaters, and once you get on his shit list it's pretty difficult to get him to forgive you.
LOVERS
Moonie hasn't had any real lovers since he was a young teen, which had been broken off once he was forced to move after he showed his first signs of manifestation. He's been a little reserved about sticking his neck out again, but he loves romance and craves it. He's only romantically attracted to feminine people, and hasn't really thought much about opening himself up romantically, because he's generally been trying to focus on himself.
OTHERS
Moonie might also benefit from a mentor. Any other ideas feel free to message me on here or on discord, and I'll get back to you.
“I was beginning to learn that your life is a story told about you, not one that you tell.”
I think too much. I wonder very often if the reason why I don't have any real life friends is because I'm too much to handle in real life. They see you struggle, but they just assume you aren't trying hard enough. But that's not the case at all. If I could try any harder to end all of this, why would anyone in their right mind continue to live like this? I don't think you get it.
I'm getting better. Don't get me wrong. The worst part is it doesn't matter how much better you get, you'll never be cured. It doesn't go away. Best case scenario is you learn to cope with and learn to live with it. Those are the cards some of us are dealt. But lately I've been able to get out more, and I've even shown a bit more cheer around work and in class. Even under the darkest skies, we remain.
The spiral tightens. Never outwards, only infinitely inwards. I end up waiting, examining a choice or a situation for so long that it either passes me by or I end up a ball of anxiety. Maybe I should just go for it.If I fail, that's fine, I guess. It's not like I was going to win if I used my old strategy anyways. Maybe instead of trying so hard to write my own story, I should just live it. Huh... Oh well. Here's to new beginnings.
ORIENTATION: Bisexual/Heteroromantic POSITION: College Student, Assistant Manager at Stagfort's music store: Attitude City
♦ THE ABILITY ♦
POWER: Elasticity and Superhuman Durability
Elasticity power holders can become extremely malleable and elastic, allowing them to stretch, flatten, deform, expand, and contract their whole body, including limbs, torso, neck, etc. They can control how elastic/flexible they or parts of them are, allowing user to change their bodies into various tools or other constructs.
Superhuman Durability is enhanced fortitude of the human body. The increased durability of one's body can help it withstand traumas that normal bodies simply can't.
LIMITATIONS:
Elasticity is very susceptible sharp edges, so knives and the like can be very dangerous. In addition, Moonie can stretch his torso only twice its original size, and no further than four times for any appendages. Moonie's durability is superhuman, but only just. It seems his mutation has only gone so far as to minimize the damage his elasticity could cause to his own body. Between the elasticity and durabilty, Moonie can only take about three times the trauma a normal person would be able to handle before it's traumatic.
Moonie can only maintain a stretch for up to five minutes before returning to normal. Overuse can lower the range at which he can stretch himself until rested.
SIDE-EFFECTS:
Stretching too much may cause disalignment in the body when returning to normal, causing pain and discomfort. Frequent doctor checkups are recommended to make sure that everything is in place.
Restlessness at night can be a problem in addition to a very high metabolism, cause by the body desperately trying to replace the energy used. Due to the restlessness, Moonie may find himself sleeping for longer periods of time when he finally gets to sleep. Loose skin.
♦ THE CHARACTER ♦
HEIGHT: 6'2"
HAIR COLOR: Brown EYE COLOR: Brown
MISC:
Due to Hebrew blood running through Moonie's veins, his hair is very curly. His skin is also very strechy, similar to those with Ehlers-Danlos syndrome, where the skin doesn't seem to be attached to the tissue.
PERSONALITY:
Moonie is a pretty laid back person; he just kind of goes with the flow. He's not really one for long drawn out plans or detailed goals for his future. He takes life as it comes, only really making short term goals for himself. He mostly sticks to doing the few things that are his hobbies, but if he's not doing anything, he doesn't mind stepping out of his comfort zone to do what others want to do.
Respect is a big deal for Moonie, and he believes that if everyone could just respect and be kind to each other, that the world would be a much better place. Moonie respects the opinions of others, and tries to keep them in mind when making decisions, or just living out his daily life. Once his trust has been betrayed by another, his respect has to be earned back, which could be difficult depending on the situation.
Moonie like turn based strategy games, where he can plan ahead and defeat his opponent. He's very eccentric when it comes to these types of things, and loves the competition. If he can optimize everything he can in a card or video game, it pleases him to no end.
Romance is important to Moonie. He loves rom-com movies and cheesy coffee dates with people he's just met, and the whole long walks on the beach shindig. Moonie believes in love, but isn't too sure that he'll find the real deal. He's very faithful to his friends and significant others, and tries to be as honest as he can.
Moonie struggles with commitment issues, finishing very few of the things he decides to start. He often decides to start doing something, but by the end of the month forgets all about it. He's very wishy-washy when it comes to life decisions, and doesn't like to stick to doing one thing for too long, unless he really really likes it.
Humour is Moonie's bread and butter, and he enjoys it in most any type of form. He likes to kid and joke around a lot, and sometimes he hurts people's feelings. Moonie doesn't ever try and hurt someone, except on certain occasions, but sometimes he can be joking around and accidentally offend or hurt someone.
Everybody has hard times, but sometimes those types of things can send people spiralling out of control into depression. Moonie is in a lifelong battle with depression, where his darkness comes and goes as it pleases. Through therapy and occasional self medication, he's been able to keep it from impacting his life too much, but it's still always there in the back of his head.
SECRET(S):
While it's not particularly a secret, Moonie doesn't exactly advertise his usage of marijuana. Many people judge people who use drugs, but it's one of the few things that actually helps him even out when he's feeling off.
♦ THE HISTORY ♦
Moonie Abram Hayes was born in a small town in Missouri to Fay and Henry Hayes. Henry barely graduated highschool and found himself working as an electrician at the time, and Fay skipped out on nursing school to stay with Henry after she graduated high school. Fay had one child already, a boy named Mitch who was 5 years ahead of Moonie. While Mitch and Moonie shared a mother, they had different fathers.
Moonie's early years were full of trouble, most of which came from his father, who was a raging alcoholic and addict. Henry Hayes was a walking mental illness, working hours and hours at a time on cocaine not to provide for the family, but so he could fuel his addictions. He was an abusive spouse. Henry beat his wife physically and abused her emotionally until she finally snapped. When Moonie was 4, Fay packed up their things, and she, Moonie, and Mitch all left Henry that night.
Henry wouldn't let it go. For a while he stalked Fay; he'd even show up where she worked. After a while, things cooled down, and the divorce was finalized. Moonie, Mitch, and Fay found a place with the help of assisted living while they got back on their feet. Eventually they were able to get out of it all, and it got even better when Fay got back together with Mitch's dad, Jerry, and moved in with him.
Moonie and Mitch had to adjust to living with stepbrothers, which wasn't too awful. Moonie caught the tail end of a lot of jokes and torment, though, because he was the youngest of all of the children. One night they convinced Moonie that wolves would come and get him through the windows at night, and then went out in wolf masks to scare him through the window. It was a hard time for Moonie, but he managed to handle all of the tormenting that his brother and stepbrothers dished out.
Henry ended his life a year later. Fay and Jerry sat Moonie down after he got home from school one day to deliver him the news. Fay never sugar coated anything to her children. She told him the whole story: Henry was running from the police to escape jail time for drug charges, and shot himself in the head. He'd always said that he was worth more to Mitch and Moodie dead than alive. He may have been right. Moonie didn't attend his father's funeral nor the visitation. He never even went to the gravesite even when he grew up.
Eventually things blew up at Jerry's as well, so again, Fay, Mitch, and Moonie moved out and found a place on their own. There, they grew very close to one another. At some point it even felt like it was Moonie and his mom and brother against the world. Moonie made lots of friends in his new school and finally felt some stability since he didn't have to change schools anymore. There for a while, it felt like he changed schools every month with how many new places they had to live, so it was nice to finally stick around somewhere.
After a while, Moonie's mom started dating again. She finally said yes to a guy who'd been asking her out for a long time. Rick was a really nice guy. He would even sit down and play video games with Mitch and Moonie, something that they loved to do. They were always either at school or playing video games. After about a year, he proposed to Fay. She agreed, trying to get hitched before her dad passed away because her dad really liked Rick, and his health was fading from the cancer.
Soon enough, the deal was sealed and everyone was living underneath Rick's roof. Times were pretty good, even though the house was crowded because Rick still had two sons living with him. After about a year, Fay's dad finally passed away in his sleep. Moonie and Mitch weren't sure if that's what triggered it or not, but that's where it all started to fall apart.
The Rick that they knew ended up falling away to show his true colors. He was a selfish man, who held nothing but disdain for Mitch. Scuffles would happen all the time between those two, leaving Moonie and Fay right in the middle. It soon became clear to Moonie that Rick only saw Mitch and Moonie as slaves. He provided housing, so the kids were to clean and do work for Rick, while he sat around on his behind. So much for a happy life again.
Eventually Mitch went off and joined the navy, leaving the house to just Rick, Fay, and Moonie. This reduced the tension in the home by a whole hell of a lot, but Moonie still hated Rick. Fay's health had begun to fade exponentially under her autoimmune disease. From here, the rest of her life would be drenched in pain and weakness. Moonie had to pick up the slack around the house, because he knew for a fact that Rick wasn't going to lift a finger to help.
Moonie's life might seem tragic at this point, but it never really bothered him too much. He was able to brush most of everything aside and stay positive. Everything became amazing for him in fact when he met Sydney. She and Moonie ended up dating for two years and loved each other dearly. They were truly some of the best times of his life. Sadly, they ended as soon as his mutation began to manifest.
Moonie was thirteen when his powers manifested. On a school day much like any other, Moonie had been sitting around in his government class when he began to yawn and stretch out. He'd just gotten out of gym class, and so he was a little tired. Moonie's arms began to stretch further than they should have, and before Moonie noticed what was going on, his arms put holes in the soft ceiling and blew one of the light fixtures in the classroom. This was the first manifestation of Moonie's mutation.
It didn't take long before representatives were at the Hayes's door. The few years after that went by in a blur, as Moonie sank into a depression due to the drastic change in his lifestyle. Moonie spent a lot of his first months at Bellefonte in a daze, trying out different doctors and different treatments for his depression.
Moonie spent the majority of his time at Bellefonte off on his own or online. His depression rarely offered him enough energy to participate an anything social, so he found himself delving into online communities for his social interaction needs. His studies rarely afforded him any challenge, but he would often get into trouble by skipping his classes. Eventually, Moonie graduated and started college at which point he was forced to declare a major by his parents. Even while having no idea what he'd do after his education concluded, he decided to choose business. Of course, he didn't care much about the subject, but it seemed like the most useful blanket major he could declare. This could get his parents off of his back, while also producing something useful for his future, even though he wasn't thinking too much about it.
Eventually, Moonie was drawn to the solice of music and medical cannabis which helped him gain a foothold after the school was relocated to Oregon. He quickly procured himself a job at Attitude City, a local music store, and a medical marijuana card soon after his arrival. Pulled out of his usual depressed and lethargic self, Moonie finally decided to try and become more active in the community around him. What's the point of living life if you can't make connections and enjoy it?
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USERNAME: Drastic AGE GROUP: 20s EXPERIENCE: Off and on since 2007-2008 WHERE DID YOU FIND US? email
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