Post by Maddox Kane on May 30, 2022 21:56:38 GMT
Maddox Kane the basics full name • maddox benji kanenickname • max age • twenty-two birthday • october 29th, 1996 gender • male sexuality • bi occupation • barista the looks face claim • finn wittrockheight & weight • five foot nine inches, one-hundred and fifty pounds overall looks • gentle blue eyes. medium-length, straight black hair, parted down the middle. thick, dark brows. clean shaven. slight muscle definition. scar above his left eyebrow, along with dozens of others. pale mole on the right side of his chin. the personality likes - alex - babies - hugs - sugary drinks dislikes - crying - eye contact - his parents - unwelcomed touch strengths - kindness - resilience weaknesses - anxiety - naivety dreams - to be happy fears - that his step-father will find him and hurt him again overall personality • max is a sweet, wounded man. he has deep-seated trust issues after being neglected by his mother, abandoned by his father, and physically/sexually abused by his step-father. he is extremely naive and riddled with anxiety, constantly on edge and worried about being hurt again. despite this, he is a kind, giving, and caring person. he is known to offer what little he has to help others. he can be perceived as stand-offish, but he is really just scared. tends to be deep in thought listening to the negative voice in his head, which causes him to worry more. he can be a bit clueless as far as social cues go, for he was never truly parented or taught. he has convinced himself he is an omen for death after two young women he encountered were slaughtered by werewolves. perpetually, he is terrified. the history mother • darcy, 40, waitressfather • william, 52, travelling salesman step-father • chris, 47, mechanic siblings • no siblings he knows of overall history • max had been an accident. his mother had been eighteen when she was sexually assualted by a man twelve years her senior. working late at a diner in a shady part of the heart of new york city, she’d been pulled into an alleyway and violated on her way home. it had been a patron she had served early in the evening, a man who was handsome and she had given flirty smiles to get a bigger tip, but by no means had consented to. she hadn’t known who it was until he dropped money at her feet and told her how she earned her tip. she could smell the liquor on his breath the way she could feel what he’d left inside of her. she didn't even know his name. she couldn’t remember getting home. couldn’t remember the shower she’d taken–skin rubbed raw and blood bubbling from her pores. darcy had dreams of making it big on broadway. she had no family in the city and no honest friends–just a small apartment a few blocks from central park. she had no one to turn to when she discovered she was pregnant with her rapist's child. she had attempted aborting him twice, but failed. when she named him, she was high on pain medication. she hadn't thought twice about the name, had heard it in passing or on a show. she wanted something dramatic and obnoxious for the little baby boy she already had grown to loath. she wouldn't hold him at first, dead set on getting rid of him, but after a nurse insisted she had taken him and realized she couldn't let him go. darcy didn't love him, but he was hers. she lived in a small one bedroom apartment. she kept him in the bassinet in the living room, letting him wail through the night as she slept in the other room. max had never known love. it was a miracle he was alive at all. she fed him as little as she could and changed his diaper only when it became overwhelming. she didn't have a mothering bone in her body. when he turned three, she brought home chris. he was significantly older than her, but he promised to take care of her and her son. he was handsome and charming and she couldn't resist the temptation. he tended to max. showing him affection and care for the first time in his life. the toddler ate it up, depending on the man. when he was five, chris touched him inappropriately for the first time while bathing him. his mother hadn't been home and max hadn't known any better. it only got worse. at ten, after years of work-worn hands exploring his body, chris brought the young boy's hands to his own. at twelve it was his mouth. at thirteen it was his virginity. when darcy was at work or asleep in the room, chris would hold max facedown into the couch while he sought pleasure in the teen. max would cry out for help, in pain and eyes wet with tears. that made chris want it more. once his mom walked out, eyes round and lips parted. she caught max's eye and frowned before turning on her heel and locking the door. chris stopped hiding it then, using max whenever he'd like, threatening his life if he dared to tell a soul. at fifteen, he brought a friend with him. for the next three years, he was nothing but a body for other people to use. he had no one to tell, no one to protect him. in school, he'd always been alone. teachers turned a blind eye to the boy. he couldn't remember the name of anyone who'd he'd been close enough to call a friend because they were all fleeting. he was a small, nervous boy who was skittish and often covered in bruises. he kept to himself, scared of who else would hurt him. he was small in stature from being malnourished as a child. it made him an easy target for bullies. max had no safe place. school was rough and home was hell. at sixteen, he started working at a corner store–spending long hours to avoid being at home. between school and shifts at the store, he’d work as a babysitter for the families in the apartment building. he’d grown to love children, only feeling safe when around them. he saved up what he could, hiding the money in a bank account his guardians didn't have access to. one night on his way home, he'd been robbed. he'd nearly been beaten to death. at the hospital, with an officer taking his statement, he'd had the truth of his step-father on the tip of his tongue, but as if on command, chris walked through the door and played the role of concerned parent. his eyes, however, were all knowing. max wished he'd been killed when he got home that night. when he turned eighteen, the beginning of his senior year, he fled the apartment. he dropped out of school and put all of his savings in the only vehicle he could afford. he took his meager belongings and left the state. he didn't know if they looked for him, he didn't have his first phone until he reached pennsylvania. he'd been on the run ever since, crossing the country but never staying in one place too long. he was scared chris would find him, that he'd show up at whatever motel he was at and bend him over the bed and punish him. he was twenty when he slept with a woman for the first time. no one had touched him since he'd run away. but she was sweet and kind and flowery. she worked with him in a small cafe in kansas. she was like sunshine, a breath of fresh air. he thinks he would have loved her if he knew how to. it was the longest he had stayed in one place, nearly a year when he'd caught sight of blonde hair and a square jaw. he doesn't know if it was chris, but it looked enough like him that max ran without saying goodbye. he drifted for another year before settling in beacon hills at twenty-two. motel glen capri was just on the outskirts of town, but it was his home for now. he had set up in a one-bed room, finding comfort in the small town. though, it did make him harder to be unnoticed. he applied for a job at the cafe in town. while filling out the application, he found himself chatting with a young girl named charlie who used his table to tie her shoes. she was incredibly kind and for the first time in a year, he felt calm. they parted as nothing more than strangers, but she had settled his nerves. a week later, he had attempted going on a night jog when he caught a man shifting from a wolf-like creature to human. he'd fainted and woke up to the man-wolf wearing his underwear and threatening to kill him if he told anyone about this. max didn't leave his room for another week. after his first shift at the cafe, he'd gone back to the motel to watch trash tv when he realized he'd left his snacks in the car. he had been rummaging in his car for the bag when a scream pierced the air. he jolted upright so quickly that he hit his head on the doorframe of the vehicle, but he didn't feel the ache as he ran towards the scene. he couldn't fathom why he ran to them, would never understand it, but he did. he was glad he did. bobbi died in his arms as her dog whimpered at her side instead of alone–the werewolf dead a few feet away. max struggled to make sense of the situation, but the girl that bobbi had saved helped him back to his room. louly was as strange as him, but kind in her own way. she made sure he was taken care of and he did his best to help her back. she boarded with him for a week before splitting. he wishes she would have stayed to take him to the funeral, but she hadn't. he couldn't not go. he'd tried to start his car, but it wouldn't turn over. he walked towards where he had learned the cemetery was, standing in the far back in black skinny jeans and a dark shirt that had lost several buttons. he was a wreck on his way back, having stolen a pink bike from outside his work place and attempting to ride it back. unfortunately, he didn't have a parent who cared enough to teach him how. but he was thankful for that, for crash landing in alex's yard had been the best thing that had ever happened to him. alex had welcomed him in, despite his own painful circumstances. the man had just found out he was a father to a nearly year old baby. he was lost, but he didn't hesitate to offer max water and a place to rest. they spent the afternoon putting the crib together, with max holding little elena and reading directions to max and some man named sam. his scary twin sister was sat back and would laugh when the pair messed up, keeping a watchful eye on max with the baby. he turned down alex's offer to drive him home, too embarrassed to say where he was staying. alex hadn't let him leave without getting his number, though, claiming it was purely for if he needed help with elena after learning max’s affinity for caring for babies. max had almost fallen for the excuse, had it not been for the heated look in his eye. it was the first time max hadn't been scared of that look in a male's eye. it was the first time he wasn't scared of a man. they spent the next month getting to know each other better. alex would show up as he knew max's shift was ending, saying that he was already there so he could just take him back to the house so they could hang out. max was all pink cheeks and bashful smiles. he hadn't felt like this since the girl in kansas. he spent less time at the motel and more time beating alex at monopoly and curled up in his bed with elena in his lap cooing softly while alex slept beside him. when young charlie was found dead, max locked himself in his motel room and wouldn't answer his phone. he convinced himself he was a beacon for death and didn't want to put anyone else at risk. didn't want to out alex at risk. he hadn't been prepared for the man to come pounding on his door in a fit of worry. alex admitted to turning on max's location after worrying about where he was staying since he wouldn't tell anyone and then told him he really should put a pass code on his phone before bringing him in to a tight hug. he had mentioned charlie once before and was surprised alex remembered it at all. rose had watched elena that night while alex stayed with him, distracting him with awful commentary about whatever was on tv and falling asleep beside him. alex admitted that he had asked max to come over so often because he knew he was at the motel and didn't want him to be, not just for help with ellie–though it was a plus. it was so strangely natural and domestic and fast that max didn't have a moment to panic or hesitate. and when he did freak out, alex easily talked him down without making him feel small. he didn't know what they were. they didn't do anything intimate, but things felt romantic at times. max was too scared to ask. he was naive and could have been misunderstanding signals. he didn't want to ruin the one good thing to happen to him. he spread himself thin, working as much as he could and then going to help alex with elena. he was tired, but he didn't care because he was happy for the first time he could really recall. even kansas girl hadn't made him feel like this. in september of 2018, a month before his twenty-third birthday, max was asked to join alex to a reunion for his high school. he hadn't called it a date and max didn't assume as much. he knew he was there for comforting elena and possibly alex too. he knew it was meant to be in memory of bobbi and he wasn't ready for that. but he was here and determined to be someone that alex and elena and even scary natalia and tall sam would be proud of. at the drink area, he stood with his hand in alex's as he contemplated how to handle this situation without letting anyone down. the visuals home • the motel glen capri in a room with only one bed and a small attached bathroom.car • a white 1998 chevy cavalier, but with that broken down he resorted to stealing a pink bike that had been abandoned outside the cafe he worked at. outfits • being that he has very little income, he is known to cycle through the same few long sleeve shirts he has with a worn out pair of jeans. he has one jacket that he wears often to keep himself covered from prying eyes rather than from the cold. for this reason, he also is known to dress in layers. he tends to wear dark, muted colors to help hide himself. he has one nice shirt: a turtleneck sweater he saves for special occasions. he's had the same wardrobe since he left new york. the threads from first to recent:temporary fix | charlie & max upward spiral | bobbi, louly, & max cliff's edge | alex & max anti-paean | alex, clayton, evans, max, natalia, & sam |