cardinal kismet >> TATE
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‧₊˚✧. 𝕷𝖊𝖌𝖆𝖑 𝕴𝖓𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 .✧˚₊‧
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𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄: Tatum Reginald Rowe
𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄: Tate𝐀𝐆𝐄: Eighteen
𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄: Lubec, Maine
𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇: March 15th
𝐙𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐂: Pisces𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐒: he/him
𝐒𝐄𝐗𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘: bisexual𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄 & 𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐘: Half African-American and half Caucasian
𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐋: Max Fieschi
𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐑 𝐂𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐒:
#AA515A
#D9AC82
#7C91AA
#6E0034 -
‧₊˚✧. 𝖁𝖎𝖘𝖆𝖌𝖊 .✧˚₊‧
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𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑: Floofy, chin-length curls that are light to dark brown
𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒: Deep brown, almost black
𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓: 6'4''
𝐁𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐃: Lanky
𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐍: Olive-toned, melanated
𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒: A smattering of tattoos. Pierced ears. A small nose ring.
𝐒𝐓𝐘𝐋𝐄: here
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‧₊˚✧. 𝕻𝖊𝖗𝖘𝖔𝖓𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖙𝖞 .✧˚₊‧
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𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐖: eyes always seeing, unapologetic, self-assured, logic-based, driven, eloquent, devious, witty, focused to the point of having blinders on, sardonic, pessimistic, egotistical, chronic liar, competitive, tactless, always awake at odd hours and never free when you need him, actions over words, obsessive, existential, morbid
𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒: days spent looking at old articles with the microfiche, theories of any sort, cold coffee (but not iced; just coffee that was brewed and left out to cool), a fresh mint vape, the feeling of a plastic bottle cap opening for the first time, baking brownies, solving any sort of logic puzzle, Thus Spoke Zarathustra, swimming, the smell of fish and the look of their gills flapping open and shut, the absurd, thunderclouds, hiking, braiding hair, and March 15th.
𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒: when things don’t make any sense, music that he deems is just noise, choking on smoke, falsified carbohydrates in the form of junk food (though potato chips are his one vice), the feeling of a pill sliding down his throat and getting stuck, the smell of liquor, mathematics (ironically), texting people, seeing people cry (he has a bit of a complex about it), 20/20 specials about murders they know nothing about, and people making comments about his life𝐇𝐎𝐁𝐁𝐈𝐄𝐒: studying like he has a gun to his head (even though 90% of it is for fun), sticking his nose in other people’s business (preferably those of the dead), spending times in cemetaries, looking into ancient texts about the supernatural, worrying his family, not sleeping at the proper times and disappearing for long hours
𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐒: making friendship bracelets when listening to other people talking, knowing a bucket-full of useless information he’s convinced will be useful some day, fixing things (the internet, the TV, the toaster, your emotional issues) other than himself𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐑𝐊𝐒: You’re read his info up until this point. You fill in the details!
𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒: Never finding out what happens when we die𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐋𝐘 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃: in the cemetery, behind his desk, in the library
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‧₊˚✧. 𝕭𝖎𝖔𝖌𝖗𝖆𝖕𝖍𝖞 .✧˚₊‧
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𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐖:
⠀⠀ coming soon bc i’m lazy𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐒:
⠀⠀ Tate’s infancy isn’t much to report. In fact, nothing about his life up until the past three years is anything worth writing home about. He has always been an oddball kid. A sore thumb. A black sheep, though more so with the world and his father. The one constant has always been these three things: fish, murder, and his mom⠀⠀ Living barely long enough in Lubec to even recall the town, Tate still adores the smell of fish. His father, Nigel, was a Swedish fishing-hand living on the coast. His mother, on the other hand, was a waitress working for tourists all-day. A one-night stand led from one thing to another, and out popped Tatum Reginald. Before moving, they were a quiet family, even if they weren’t very happy. Money has and always will be tight, not to mention the fact that Nigel and Dahlia weren’t each other’s biggest fans. Where Dahlia was warm and lively, Nigel was hard-lined and ruminous. Their move from Lubec would spell absolute disaster for the wreckage that already lined Tate’s living room.
⠀⠀ Sometimes, he wonders if it was the constantly screaming, the swearing, that turned him so twisty and turvy. Truthfully, Tatum doesn’t understand what has brought him to who he is besides the obvious: an unfortunate brain chemical soup and the lack of an ability to control it. Maybe, to his father’s credit, a touch of parental issues. However, even Tate can’t fully commit to such an idea. Even now, after the pair have finally divorced, he doesn’t see the ways in which his father harmed him, wrapped him around a pencil like he was a pipe-cleaner. Some memories, Tate decided long ago while getting high for the first time and recalling some unpleasant things, are better left buried. It isn’t just people that die, he realized
⠀⠀ This though occurred freshman year, when he learned of more than just long-forgotten secrets. Tatum always had an affinity for the extreme, the most logical, and his own view on things. Then, he started smoking weed full-time, and quickly, his world turned nightmarish. It started slowly, with the shadows of people appearing in his peripheral vision. Then, he wouldn’t be able to sleep at night due to the sounds he thought he heard. Finally, he started talking of being a god, believing he created the world and everyone else was secondary. It was finally with these talks, coupled with the fact that she saw a smear of blood on the sink after he went to the bathroom, that Dahlia realized her son needed help. Nigel grumbled at the news that they would have to pay for him to go to an in-patient program. However, as always, Tate’s mother won. He was put on paliperidone, and over the years, he’d grown to accumulate a collection of medications meant to stabilize him.
⠀⠀ Thankfully, the past three years have gone by rather uneventfully. Unpleasant past-rememberings remain locked in a box, sunk into the seas, in favor of Tate spending his new-found emotional stability discovering the secrets of the world. His ultimate challenge: tackle religion and discover what happens when we die. Without actually dying. Tatum tends not to bring this up to his mother, instead opting to talk constantly about his conspiracy theories regarding certain serial killers (particularly the one local to their town). The only downside to his life is that every other weekend, he’s subjected to ‘family time’ with his father. Like with memories, he prefers to keep these moments to himself, tucked far away like a landmine that might explode at any moment. For the most part, Tate’s managed to keep himself under the radar, passing through high school simply known as the mythical, local weirdo (and proud of it! Ask him about his famous author’s teeth collection!)
⠀⠀ Now, with the murder of the Prom king/queen, Tate has a renewed obsessed with the seeming serial killer in their midsts. How can he resist?
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