poet Edgar allan poe perishes
under mysterious circumstances

• SoundCloud

• Periscope

Trivia

Former name: Edgar allan poe
Name: timothée beaumont
Age: Twenty four
occupation: doctor
Orientation: bi
Blood Type: A+
Height: 5'11"
pet: raven

(and a noire kitten "catterina")

BACKGROUND

❝ they were all so wrong. death is not a wicked thing, nor some holy retribution. a true punishment would be to never know its sweet kiss, awaken from the harshness and be born once more. ❞

he was consumed by death, peace at last from the unbearable strain of life. yet, subconscious indignation seeped through the cracks within his tormented soul, denying him the solace of quietude, of release. It had been an internal conflict, to desire better or concede defeat, to succumb to the cold embrace of oblivion or implore another attempt at survival.

He could not shake the feeling that he was treated unfairly, tragedy after tragedy to befall him, as though he'd become the plaything of a sadist master, watching his sanity ebb away until the remnants of it were lost to the sight of his wife bleeding before his very eyes.

❝ These wild oceans shake what's left of me loose, just to hear me cry mercy. The strong wind at my back, So I'll lift up The only sail that I have, This tired white flag. ❞

His mother was taken from him to tuberculosis at the mere age of two, orphaned with his siblings to be adopted later on into a wealthy family which cut him off and denied him his will following the death of his beloved foster mother and the remarriage of his foster father, who only ever treated him like dirt. You'd think life would get better after he gets married but his wife suffered frequent illnesses and ultimately passed away at the young age of twenty-five, leaving him utterly devastated, which led to his death two years subsequently.

Perhaps that is why he'd chosen to become a doctor in the middle ground, in order to defeat the perennial death in his prior life, to save himself the heartache of watching yet another loved one die in his arms, helpless to the power of illness and death.

PERSONA

He depleted nothing but bottles of liquor and ink, saturated with the utmost escapism to evoke a silver of tolerance to the desolation his life brought upon. intoxication the only anchor to saneness the lad was offered, drowning in its numbing qualities until the pain began seeming a rather comforting sting. for as long as he could remember, life was nothing but death pending. Perhaps that is why he abstains from alcoholism and poetry in the new life he was given, for it only defeats the purpose of being happy, to escape once more.

OOC

We don't have to brainstorm, just interact with my character and we will certainly come up with smth. I cant write in 1st, I can only write in 3rd and para to multipara based on the plot and my muse.

Please do not rush me or poke me for replies under any case. I do not do so and similarly, I expect you not to. I can be quite busy OOC, please try to understand and remember that we are here to have fun so don't take matters too seriously.

If you've gotten this far down, pleasure to meet you, name's noah. Hit me up in pms if you'd like to plot with me.