forum “ I never meant to hit you with my Roomba, I just accidentally left my door open and forgot I was on the second story.... Yes, it does have eyes drawn on it.” // oxo // open

Started July 02, 2020 by @PaperHats business

tune

I just have a really soft boy who needs somebody.

I’m thinking this takes place in a sorta apartment complex, that my character just moved to, and character 2’s room is directly below him. That’s honestly all I got. Whatever else happens, happens.

Rules:

• Have fun, my friend
• No controlling others characters
• No one-liners, 3 line minimum
• Decent grammar/punctuation
• Whatever you’re comfortable writing, go for it. Explicit language is totally ok, as long as it’s not derogatory toward another writer. _{(Racially/sexually derogatory terms are also not okie-dokie)}

Guess we’ll figure out templates/setting/time period/etc once we get there?

(Hey If this is still open can I join with a guy oc or are you looking for b/g)

(Literally any, I just know my boys gonna be real soft and wholesome lol. And yeah, you can totally join :)

Full Name:
Nickname(s):
Gender:
Age:

Physical Appearance:
Usual Apparel/Clothing:
Other Features:

Personality:
Mannerisms:
Mental Age / Maturity:
Hobbies:

Background:
Family:
Pets:

Full Name: Finn Bishop
Nickname(s): None
Gender: Male
Age: 20

Physical Appearance: Tall and muscular. light brown skin and brown eyes. His curly black hair is cut in a nice fade.
Usual Apparel/Clothing: A random shirt and distressed jeans. He occasionally wears light makeup. Usually eyeshadow or eyeliner. His nails are usually painted bright colors because of his sister.
Other Features: Small scar on his hairline and a bigger one that runs up his leg from when he played football in high school.

Personality: He's extroverted and loves to meet new people. He gets attached easily and can be very protective of those he cares about. He's constantly putting others' needs before his own and tries to please everyone at once. He's very soft and loving unless you hurt someone he cares about then he can turn murderous.
Mannerisms: He rambles, has a habit of biting his lip, and plays with his hands a lot.
Mental Age / Maturity: He's known as sort of the mom/dad best friend. Acting very mature when needed especially since he had to grow up fast.
Hobbies: baking, playing football,

Background: his mother passed away when he was 10 and his sister was not even a month old. His father took care of him and his sister. He went off to college on a full sports scholarship. Dreaming to become a doctor just like his parents. Everything was going great until his father passed away last year. Now he is juggling school, a part-time job, and taking care of his sister. He did get a small inheritance from his parents but he has barely touched that money.
Family: only living is his 10-year-old sister Poppy. His friend Willow is also basically a sister to him. she helps a lot.
Pets: A grey cat called Bell

Full Name: Oliver Collins
Nickname(s): Ollie
Gender: Male h/h
Age: 19

Physical Appearance: Ollie’s hair is a light brown with natural blonde highlights. It’s short and messy, holding a slight wave to it. It never goes where it’s supposed to and falls into his eyes often.
His eyes are a stunning emerald green with specks of amber, always holding the youth of juvenility. His skin is a nice white chocolate mocha and he has a scar running along the side of his right eye. He’s slightly skinnier and shorter than he should be, at about 5’7” with an extremely lithe muscle structure.
Usual Apparel/Clothing: Often actually professional clothing. He is often seen wearing a collared shirt and black slacks with a chain from the pocket and deck shoes.
Other Features: He wears a small rainbow braided bracelet on his left arm, and never takes it off. He often also wears round thin-rimmed glasses.

Personality: A timid, lawful, and hopeful person with a knack for unwanted trouble. He tends to follow rules by anyone who holds authority, and has trouble when he’s gotten two contradicting orders. He can be extremely awkward when talking to new people and has minor anxiety, although always seeming calm and composed. He often needs time to himself, but can get too far inside his own head easily, and needs to be pulled out.
Mannerisms: He fiddles with the end of his sleeves when he’s nervous and purses his lips if he’s thinking.
Mental Age / Maturity: Much older than he seems, but his anxiety evens it out slightly.
Hobbies: Playing piano (he has a keyboard in his apartment) / listening to music / following DIY dioramas and small building projects. He has a few of creations lying around his apartment, his favorite being that of a waterfall and lake he created with resin, clay, and other supplies.

Background: Grew up with his mom and little sister, but he decided to move out and make a living on his own for the beginning of his college career. He’s a scholar through and through, and is to major in biochemistry. (I’ll probably add more to this as we go)
Family: His mother, Emily, and his 9 y/o little sister named Jess.
Pets: none, but I mean this Roomba seems to have a mind of its own

(Sorry that took longer than expected, I had to revise more than I thought)

Ollie grabbed a few boxes from the bottom of the stairs, making his way back up to the balcony and eventually to his new room. This was his last trip— all the other moving boxes had already been placed in the apartment.
His door had been left open because of the whole process. It wasn’t like he had a lot of stuff anyway. The only thing relatively expensive was his Roomba, something his grandmother had given him for his move. He didn’t understand why he needed it, but with the googly eyes he had pasted on the thing, he came to the conclusion that it wasn’t that bad.
There was a small space between the railing and the floor of the balcony, a place that the Roomba could easily fall through, and being the ignorant person Ollie was, he hadn’t put two and two together. It wasn’t until he heard a sputtering, a crash, and noticed his open door, did chills go up his spine. He quickly set down the boxes and looked over the side of the building.

Finn walked outside onto his balcony to water the small garden his sister set up and to take in some fresh air. He was pretty sure he heard someone moving into the apartment upstairs and planned on greeting them later in the day. What he didn't hear was the Roomba falling from above him before it landed on his head. He cursed slightly loudly. he brought a hand up to the throbbing spot on his head before looking up. He saw a man looking down and looked at him confused. "Is this yours?" He asked pointing at the now dented and scratched up Roomba. other than that it was surprisingly all in one piece.

Ollie’s eyes grew wide, a hand over his mouth and visibly shaken. What was he supposed to do? He had just hit a man in the head with a slightly less inanimate vacuum. What was the standard apology for that?
His other hand gripped the railing tightly.
“Ah— y-yes, I’m so sorry about that— my door was open, I didn’t know— I’m sorry,” he stuttered, mind racing. “It was an accident, it slipped under the rail.”

Finn gave a pained smile at the man. "It's okay! nothing some ice can't fix. Do you umm want it back," He asked biting his lip slightly. He picked up the Roomba looking it over. He nearly laughed a the eyes. "Are these googly eyes?" He asked looking up again. His head was throbbing but this was a nice distraction.

While Ollie internally screamed, he returned the smile with an extremely nervous laugh, holding the edge of his shirt sleeve tightly.
“Y-yeah, uh, those are googly eyes,” he said, his voice breathy. “I’ll, uh, yeah I’ll come down and get it— sorry again!”
He hastily stepped back from the railing, taking a full while to calm himself and run through a greeting in his head a thousand times. Although, besides “hello,” he couldn’t really think of anything else besides, “sorry I almost knocked you out with a seemingly sentient portable sucker.”
Slowly he slinked down the stairs, making his way to the door in which he believed to be the man’s. With a deep breath, he knocked on the door.