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Played by Amare ➢ Offline
Spouse ➢ Branwen Acidalia
Play-by ➢ Henry Cavill
➢ Not Sharing Play-by
|AGE||JOB||HAIR COLOR||EYE COLOR|
|28||Accountant||Dark Brown (easily mistaken for black)||Dark Blue (heterochromia in corner of left eye)|
PersonalityFriendly, is typically out-going by nature. He likes people, and has no difficulty breaking the barrier of communication by being the first at introductions or talking to strangers. He has a playful personality, zest for life and a wry, self-deprecating sense of humor. He sincerely enjoys conversation, and finding out what makes other people tick. He is very much a 'people person', yet oddly tends to be lonely. Due to his open attitude, he can be very blunt, which comes with an edge of sarcasm. He can come across as intrusive due to his talkative nature. Has plenty of eccentricities, but remains comfortable in his own skin.
Philosophical, a deep thinker who attempts to rationalize things. He doesn't study these topics in a studious form, just muses on them. Questions about existence, the universe and mankind are puzzling to him. He has a need for logic, and wants everything to have an answer, but is seldom convinced by those presented. Religion provides a frustrating thinking point, Taran can't decide if he believes in a higher power or not, he can't satisfactory prove spirituality one way or another.
Restless, gets bored easily. He isn't the type to enjoy doing the same thing over and over, he likes variety and exploring the unknown. Taran has difficulty with free time on his hands. He gets depressed (or rather his depression gets worse). Enjoying the constant distraction of a project, he tends to jump from one thing to another. Tossing bags into a car on a weekend for an unplanned day-trip, or changing a routine outing is commonplace. He likes adventure, pron to momentary inclinations and springing surprises.
AppearanceStanding at 6'2'' Taran has the height and coloring typical of his prominent parental family traits. Square jaw, intense gaze and a lopsided grin. He looks a lot like his father, muscular, broad-shouldered, with well toned arms and legs. He works out enough to maintain his physique (mostly weight lifting and jogging) but is graced with a natural athletic build nonetheless. He is a lazy shaver, usually sporting a day or two of stubble (this is more prevalent during his bouts of heavy drinking and depression). On the occasion of being cleanly shaved, the scar on his chin is more obvious (which is probably why he seldom shaves closely, even when otherwise well groomed). Although his swagger seems a byproduct of his persona, the gait is due to an injury at the age of 10 years. The hip healed, but his right leg remained weaker, and slightly shorter than his left. As he grew, the swagger developed, covering any sign of limping.
HistoryAny baby given a name like Taran Alexander-Bertram Worthington has a lot to live up to. Born into a family of good standing, The Worthingtons always went to church on Sunday, participating in civic duty, respectable people, who flaunted a reputation of social importance by being active in the community. If anything behind closed doors failed to meet this public image, it was never seen in the light of day.The Worthingtons were a practical and discreet bunch. His parents, Wolfric and Rosalind, had gone through a first year of marriage with some difficulty, but Taran's arrival into the world ensured a growing solid relationship.
When Taran was 2 years old, his mother suffered a miscarriage and was informed her child-bearing days were over. Being too young, Taran had no memory of the episode, but reaped the benefits of being an only child during his early years. His mother, Rosalind, took special care and interest in the upbringing of her son. She spoiled him, attempting to pass along her love of music and astronomy, while his father, Wolfric, got the boy interested in sports and the great outdoors. Taran was a lively child, loving, playful and talkative.
After Taran turned 5 years old, his parents began to consider the prospect of adoption, but the actual obtaining of a second child came under circumstances of family hurt and loss when Taran was 6 years old. One of Wolfric's sisters and her husband had gotten up to illegal activity, arrested, executed, leaving behind a two week old daughter. The other side of the family had no interest in the child. Working with the government, Wolfric and Rosalind officially adopted the baby, naming her Lyra. Taran's cousin was raised as his sister, and he never knew the difference in affection. The family secret was known by the family only, and stayed that way. For for all Lyra knew, she was biologically Taran's sister.
By the age of 9, Taran had already established a reputation for mischief among his cousins and friends. Spending much of the time getting into trouble and dealing with punishments seemed to have little, or no, lasting effect on his boyish grin. Introduced to the marvelous boyhood pleasures of arm wrestling and rough housing, black eyes and bruises were not the end of it. Around the age of 10, Taran fell out a tree, and injured his hip. He spent the better part of the year recovering in bedridden boredom. His parents (father especially) hoped the accident would be a valuable lesson to their son. But once Taran was out of bed, he was back at his old habits.
The transition into St Benedict’s School was a fairly easy one for Taran. Picking up a couple of new friends in school, Taran dragged his cousin Conwy into misadventures of adolescence. The foursome became partners in crime. They got into as much trouble as they could without landing themselves in serious offenses. Taran did gain time in corrections, to say his father was less than pleased would be an understatement. As she had when he was younger, his mother turned a blind eye, leaving her husband to deal with their wayward son. While Wolfric never raised a hand to his son, he did reprimand and deal out punishments in the form of losing privileges, being grounded after school, and having to preform extra household chores. Taran remained unabashed.
The death of Taran's grandfather signaled a passing of the torch in The Worthington family. The old man had suffered a stroke after his daughter's execution, and while he made a recovery, his declining health continued until Taran was 15. Taran's grandfather had cast a long shadow, which Wolfric's elder brother, Layton, attempted to fill upon the old man's passing. Layton had very defined ideas on how to recompense for having a sister who had fallen on the wrong side of the law. Family gatherings, and holidays transferred over to his house. Taran never particularly liked his uncle, but Layton always had a soft spot for Taran, (he too had been a wild child in his youth). There existed an odd sense of loyalty within their relationship. They understood each other.
As a teenager, Taran's grades improved. He was always smart, just lazy as a student. He favored subjects like art, history, and geography, and excelled in areas of mathematics and athletics. The sudden rise in grades was partly backed by a deal; Taran got good grades, his father would pay for extracurricular activities. With less free time on his hands, Taran didn't get into as much trouble. He did manage to still sneak in a misdemeanor here and there for the sake of reputation among his pals. He was punished accordingly, and again landed himself in corrections on at least one occasion.
The aptitude test rolled around. Taran knew the test was the first step into determining his future. Was he surprised by the results? No.Was he disappointed? Yes. 'Accounting'. The Worthington's always seemed to get employed into financial based professions. Taran had hoped to be the exception, (he was the 'black sheep' in the family, after all). He was more than a little envious, when Conwy broke tradition, scoring his own path in career. Doomed to be tied to a desk with endless rows of numbers, sums and tallying, Taran faced graduation and collage. He would make up for his boring career by having as much fun as he could on the side.
Sponsorship offered Taran a new form of distraction He was apprehensive at first, but in a short time, he discovered it wasn't so bad. In fact, most of it was pretty good. He enjoyed the female attention and companionship. While exploring his own forms of pleasure, he took interest in noting what seemed to bring pleasure to his sponsors, and started up conversations on this rather unorthodox concept. By the time he left sponsoring, he felt he had learned enough, and had a nice list of contacts for later use.
Taran was drafted 6 months before his 21st birthday. Wedded, and bedded, he had to admit, the girl was strange. She was 18 years old, her name was Alfa and that was the most normal thing about her. He sensed she was up to something, but wasn't sure what. She couldn't hold eye contact, and would faze out when he tried to keep up a conversation beyond surface level. Her homemaking skills were robotic, personality nonexistent. Their marriage (if it could be called that) consisted of sex and little else. She was distant, until she stripped, then suddenly there was life in the vacant eyes. He was bored within a month.
Still in collage, his studies and part-time job consumed his time, and he came to prefer it that way. Alfa never seemed to care whether he was around for not. It was nearly a year later she was arrested for illegal possession of drugs and affiliation with the underground resistance. Her entire family had unsavory connections and she had been more or less brainwashed. She did leave him a huge hidden stash of syn under a loose floorboard in the basement, he drank to her peace in the hereafter, if there was indeed one.
Not receiving a second draft right away, Taran enjoyed his freedom of bachelorhood, hanging out with friends. Playing pool, cards and drinking syn was fun and all, but Taran had a restless urge for the forbidden. He started an affair with the discontented young wife of a family business associate and friend. They were careful, the affair was short lived, but Wolfric suspected and confronted him.
Being chewed out by Wolfric was common, but this row was worst than usual. His father pointed out all the ways Taran had and continued to skirt the line of illegality. Did he realize what might happen if he got caught? Did he care? Taran felt his father was being extra harsh. He knew full well The Worthingtons were not entirely the perfect citizens they pretended to be, with the exception of Wolfric himself. Even Uncle Layton's fevered obsession with public image was fending off a guilty conscious. Taran pointed this out to his father. Wolfric ignored the accusations against the family, telling Taran he expected him to do better and be better. End of story. This episode created a rift between father and son. Taran did back off on charming married women, and made use of his contact list from sponsorship days instead.
Finishing collage, and landing a job as an accountant, Taran found his full time career every bit as boring as he expected. Nevertheless, the aptitude test rang true, it was a good fit. With a quick calculating mind, he possessed the skill (if lacking the love) of a dedicated bookkeeper. He was told if he kept up the good work, he could find himself being promoted to a financial analyst one day. Oh goody. Longer hours, extra paperwork and more stuffy meetings, what a tantalizing lifetime career goal.
Not long after getting settled into his full time job, he was re-drafted at the age of 24. Her name was Margot. She was 21 years old, having scored badly in her exit exam. He could find no fault with her. He gave her freedom and space. Sparks of attraction flew nonetheless. He found his new wife attractive, vivacious and frankly, Taran's general weakness for woman showed itself to true advantage. He tried to get to know her beyond physical intimacy. It was after a few months, Margot finally began to open up. She had some odd ideas about society. While Taran found the discussion points of interest, he wasn't inclined to act or seek out anti-trust groups, he was only interested in philosophizing. Margot had her oddities and Taran had his eccentricities, it seemed to click. For the most part, he was just happy his second draft was such a vast improvement from the first.
A year after being drafted, a letter in the mail alerted the couple they were expecting a child. Margot gave birth to a daughter, they named her Marigold. Taran was content enough with his home life. Margot surprised him by having a slightly different view. An argument arose over the prospect of birth-control. Margot wanted to hold off having another child as long as possible, while Taran didn't see the big deal. In the end, he gave in and let her have her way. He assumed Margot was just stressed out, and suffering from postpartum. He asked his mother to help with Marigold. He would let Margot alone, and things would get back to normal.
It was an evening in April, Taran was in the driver seat. He and his friend Jode were headed to Kraken Island to celebrate a work promotion. It was raining pretty hard, but Taran never paid much attention to weather when cruising. He was a confident driver with a need for speed. Besides, he had a lot on his mind. The last turn on a winding road saw headlights from another car. Swerving away from the impending collision, sent the car over the side. The passenger side took the brunt of the crash, killing Jode on impact. Taran blacked out as the car hit the ravine.
He got off easy, with a severe concussion, dislocated shoulder, broken ribs, and less extensive injuries. Bandaged, set, and stitched up, Taran recovered in the hospital for months. He only retained hazy memories of the accident, but they haunted his dreams in vivid detail. He suffered mild PTSD and was sent to a therapist. He resented the sessions and said whatever was required to get out of them. He was cleared medically on paper, but the guilt and nightmares remained.
Meanwhile, things with Margot were strained. They went through the motions of daily life, but lacked the signs of closeness there had been previously. She seemed on edge, emotionally triggered, and argumentative. Taran was not in his best moods either. It took two to tango. The days passed into uneasy silence, Taran had time to think. This wasn't how he wanted things between them.
Despite his own depression, he planned a trip to revitalize their relationship. He popped his surprise on her, including a confession of how much she meant to him, and that whatever the issues, he was committed to working it out. She seemed reluctant towards the trip, but gave in.
Sending Marigold to stay with his parents, Taran left Margot to finish the packing while he picked up a few last minute items. When he got home, he found her sprawled on the bathroom floor with an empty bottle of prescription pills not far. The pills had been the painkillers prescribed since his accident. There was a letter, unsettling and cryptic in it's contents, the writing hurried and frantic. The cause of death was pronounced suicide.
He accepted condolences, and drifted into a haze of disbelief, relying on syn to dull the pain for a few fleeting moments. He withdrew from his friends, took longer hours at work, and drank. His family tried to be supportive. Even his father reached out, their rift somewhat mended by tragedy. But no one could really understand the reasons behind his grief. He hadn't recovered from the accident that claimed his friend's life. Because of him, Jode's wife was a widow, and his children pushed into the hands of relatives. His own wife had willingly killed herself, and he still didn't understand why.
His life was a mess.
After the Ashpoint Incident, the new microchips were rolled out. Taran wasn't sure he liked being a human tracking device, but he saw the morbid logic behind the new chips. The new microchip was a reminder, no one was safe unless they played by the rules.
Approaching a year and a half since his wife's death, Taran faced his 28th birthday. He wanted a fresh start. To enjoy the simple things in life, and actually live instead of existing. He wasn't the same man he had been before. The former desire for foolhardy behavior and self indulgences had faded. He was ready to toe the line.
His daughter had spent most of her life with his parents, with Taran dropping her off for extended weekends or leaving her completely in their care. The guilt of everything that had transpired left him determined to do better as a father, being more present and involved in Marigold's life. He knew the child needed a mother, that he world likely to get a third wife. What then? Taran had to make changes. The past echoed painful and unresolved.
FAMILY[ Father ] Wolfric Wothington
[ Mother ] Rosalind Worthington
[Younger Sister] Lyra (adopted - biological cousin)
[First Wife] Alfa (deceased)
[Second Wife] Margot (deceased)
[Third Wife] *Branwen Acidalia
[Daughter] Marigold (nearly 3 years old)
Big brood of Worthingtons. Step-Grandmother, Aunts, Uncles, Cousins, nieces and nephews etc. Taran's Uncle Layton has assumed the patriarch role since the passing of his grandfather.
Birthdate: July 17th
Bad Habits: Lazy shaver. Puts feet on furniture. Gets restless. Drums fingers. Drinking Syn (when depressed), Piles clothes on top hamper. Casual swearing. Intrusive. Starts projects and never finishes them. Opens corks with teeth. Leaves coffee mugs around the house. Skim reads, skips to the end of books. Broods. Overthinks. Gets bored easily.
Turn-Ons: Playful flirting. Eye contact. Smooth skin. Being allowed to help with household chores. Conversation. Damp Clean Hair. Perfume. Foreplay. Spontaneity. Openly affectionate. Being needed. Thunderstorms.
Turn-Offs: Lewd Behavior. Deceit. Trash Talking. Selfishness. Lack of Interest. Overly Dominating or Pushy behavior. Smoking. Being undermined. Lack of emotion. The F-bomb (reasons).
hair color preference: Blonde, Brunette, Redhead (he likes em
eye color preference: Brown, Blue, Green (are Purple eyes a thing?)
draft position: For
premarriage y/n: No
Hard LimitsOverly Graphic/ BDSM / Not Too Kinky -
Player NotesNo Information
⇀ Timezone: MTD
⇀ Pronouns: She/Her
⇀ Last Post: Yesterday at 08:33 pm
skinned exclusively for the draft by saramonster
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