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»» maximus fletcher atherton

all about you

name/alias: lorenn.
age/gender: fifteen, female.
contact info: AIM – luciusrocks3
other characters: none.
how did you find us: advertisement.

i'll be okay

full name: maximus fletcher atherton.
nicknames: max, fletcher.
age: thirty seven.
birthdate: may 21st.
year: teacher/graduate.
occupation: headmaster.
sexual orientation: heterosexual.

five colors in her hair

hair color: dark brown.
eye color: chocolate.
height: six foot one inch.
piercings: none.
tattoos: intricate Celtic design is carved in ebony ink upon his right bicep, a small circle with a few rings interlaced.
best feature: his freckles.
celeb claim: david tennant.

too close for comfort

ten words: (ten words about your character with bullets below.)

» eccentric.
» talkative.
» intelligent.
» crafty.
» honest.
» good-natured.
» curious.
» enigma.
» obsessive.
» temperamental.

likes: puzzles, teaching, knowledge, long walks, order, sex, talking, clubs, alcohol, summer days, honesty, debates, soft songs, fires, locked doors, cleaning, getting wasted on weekends, writing, running, bruce springsteen, unknown artists, pianos, open airy spaces, grand ball rooms, really old houses, large estates and mansions, history, poetry (Shakespeare), knowing what to do, learning, finding something he’s lost, peppermint candies, suckers, any thing he can chew on, Ipods, anything aesthetically pleasing, pictures, home movies, classic novels, tennis, company, one night stands, projects, arts n crafts, chocolates, flowers, kittens, the ocean, boat rides, candles, baths, experiments.
dislikes: relationships, failing, loud noises, hospitals, waiting rooms, infants, addictive drugs (sleep aids), orphanages, abandonment, endings, weakness, large animals, sad lifetime dramas, big trucks, macho men, leather, awkward silences, dealing with problems, death, emptiness, crusts on bread, needles, spiders, being judged, bad hair days, not getting answers, people being evasive, being wrong, apologizing, birthday parties, gifts, being chastised, getting up late, grandfather clocks, guns, blood, gore, horror movies, the supernatural, folklore, thinking about the afterlife.
goals:
‘ find love again.
‘ start a family.
‘ travel europe again.
‘ get over his fear of unlocked doors.
‘ move on.
‘ be able to eat an entire bowl of ice-cream, without getting a brain freeze.
habits:
‘ ruffling his hair.
‘ chewing on stuff.
‘ making messes.
‘ cleaning said messes up.
‘ talks incredibly fast when excited.
fears:
‘ being alone forever.
‘ becoming a father again.
‘ the afterlife.
‘ god.
‘ needles.
‘ eternity.
favorite movies:
‘ the net.
‘ jurassic park.
‘ a time to kill.
‘ premonition.
‘ the village.
favorite musical groups:
‘ the fratelli’s.
‘ spoon.
‘ kaiser chiefs.
‘ mika.
‘ third eye blind.
‘ counting crows.
‘ the beatles.
favorite color:
‘ red.
theme song: i don’t wanna get over you ;; magnetic fields.

general personality: Maximus Fletcher Atherton is an enigma if he’s anything at all. He’s one hell of a complicated man, hidden behind a thousand pieces of a puzzle that just doesn’t quite seem to fit together in any particular fashion, a mess of this and that, odd ends and various traits. If there is one thing Max knows how to do, it’s how to live life to the fullest. He’s been roaring to go ever since he was a child and he seldom stops long enough to take a deep breath, he’s forever moving, figuratively if not literally. You’d think a man of his age would have settled down with time but he just seems to get more and more hyperactive as the years go on, almost spastic in his demeanor. Still, there are times when he’ll just sit there, a pensive expression upon his face, his body as still as a statue. There seems to be some sort of switch that only he knows the workings of that drives him in his extremes. That being said, he’s still a rather personable chap with more than enough personality to get himself into trouble as quick as he can get himself out, sometimes to the annoyance of those who have decided he’s sane enough to be a friend.

While Maximus is always ready for a good time, he can be incredibly stubborn and stern. He’s not cruel, or sharp, he just knows what he wants done and how he wants it done, and if you deviate from the path, be prepared to defend yourself. Maximus can be quite quiet sometimes, not speaking unless spoken to and choosing his words wisely. These times, however, are rare and mostly caused by something upsetting him. He’s generally very open about his affairs, but he operates under the reasoning that he has no reason to share anything of import unless someone asks about it.

Max has a pretty good handle on his temper although he’s been told he can get downright cruel when something angers him well enough. He tries to keep his tetchiness in check and for the most part, he succeeds, but he can get into a bad humor quite quickly with little provocation. Not to say that he’s an angry person, it’s just that he’s incredibly protective of anyone he deems a friend. A part of him feels responsible for taking care of others although he tries to burry this feeling as best he can. It’s very easy to get him riled up if you challenge any of his beliefs, and he does enjoy a friendly debate, although he does have a line that once you cross it the debate ceases to be friendly and morphs into a personal attack. Moreover, he is apt at finding weak points in his opponents and won’t hesitate to take advantage of them. Sometimes, if enraged enough, he may become downright cruel and he will say things he knows he will regret just to get the edge in the argument. Of course, you can usually accept an apology after this, but it takes a while because he’s a very proud man.

Love is something he once had, but now that he’s lost it he’s almost afraid to embrace it again. He’s not the type of person who would declare his love for anyone unless he has reason to believe it is safe to do so. Harmless crushing and flirting he can abide by, even welcomes, but anything further than that and he’s cautious. He can be quite romantic, often times without even meaning to be.

Max isn’t too keen on being attached to anyone, although most of the time he can’t help but doing just that. He’s terribly fond of making friends or starting up small talk just for the hell of it, and he isn’t afraid to waltz on into a conversation if it interests him. He’s a very sociable person and likes to be immersed in company, although he does not object to solitude in short amounts. He’s very curious and loves any sort of stimulation, especially if it involves him trying to fit a piece of some metaphorical puzzle together, he’s particularly fond of people watching.

Some people may describe Maximus as obsessive, and he does have a few character traits of OCD, although he hasn’t been diagnosed with the disorder. He’s always been a meticulous person, although it seems that his cleanliness happens to lie within a mess only he can understand. He protests quite vehemently if anyone tries to suggest a way to change the setup of his living quarters. Quite a few things seem to upset him if they’re not right and he’s fastidious about certain things and won’t hear a word of anything about it. Some examples may be that he’s quite rigid in housekeeping, spends every Sunday cleaning every inch of his flat, down on his hands and knees ever, rubber gloves and whatnot. If for some reason he misses this cleaning, he gets very anxious and often times it’s just easier to let him go back to his apartment and clean, rather than deal with his anxiety. He has a phobia of doors being unlocked and will check to make sure his door is locked several times, often waking in the middle of the night just to make sure, or leaving during a lunch break to relock the door.

memory lane

hometown: birmingham, england.

mother: delilah olivia atherton (deceased).
father: tobias hunter garrett.
siblings: john hugo bennett.
other: isabelle elizabeth wylie-atherton– wife – deceased – former photographer.
oliver camron atherton– son – deceased.
pets: none.

general history: The streets of Birmingham, England were unforgiving, especially to a nineteen year old girl and her newborn son. Delilah Olivia Atherton was a quiet girl, shy and outspoken but incredibly pretty. One night she’d gotten drunk at a party and before she even had time to blink, her innocence was no more and she was with child. Of course, she had no idea who the father was, which did nothing to protect her when her parents found out. God fearing folk as they were, they wanted nothing to do with her and as soon as she had the child, a baby boy she named Maximus Fletcher Atherton, they banished her from the house. She had a good-sized savings account, and with no possible future education, she decided to use what she had to buy a train ticket to Birmingham where she would start life afresh, with a son in her arms nonetheless.

Once she got there, she found a small, cozy flat to rent that wasn’t too expensive. Raising a child alone at such an age was anything but easy; in fact, there were some nights that Delilah could hardly force herself to go home to the flat after her double shift at the corner spot, much less pick up her fussy infant son from the daycare down the way. When Maximus got sick at eight weeks old and had to be hospitalized, it all became too much for Delilah. She stopped working at the store and turned to selling herself to get money for the hospital bills, and she made quite a living. Gone were the days of being shy and introverted. Now she was out on the town every night, stopping in maybe once a day to check on her son in the hospital. When he was released, she left him at the day care for longer and longer periods of time. Then one day, when Maximus was about one year old, she failed to pick him up from daycare. Several calls were made to the flat, none of them returned. The day care owner turned the child over to the police who in turn gave the child to Social services.

Maximus Fletcher Atherton was given to an orphanage at the tender age of one and a half. His mother had failed to come back and there was no one else to take him. It wasn’t all bad, as the years went on Max grew quite attached to the people that worked at the orphanage and he had a rather fine childhood, better than some kids did at least. As far as he was concerned, he had nothing to complain about. One year turned into two, which turned into three, and all the while, he continued to grow mentally and took a keen interest in the world around him. Max was the kid that always needed to know what was going on, always had questions, a sharp mind and a perceptiveness that eluded some adults. The fact that he grew up not knowing who his mother or father was, at least not consciously, didn’t seem to faze the child much. He was intoxicated with being alive and could find the good in any situation.

When Max was ten years old, a couple, the Bennett’s, visited the orphanage and seemed to take a shine to the young boy. A few weeks later with the adoption process complete, Maximus found himself in a new home, back in London. They decided to let him keep his mother’s last name, because they believed the child should at least know who she was. The people were nice enough, he was grateful to them and grew to love them as the years passed. Mr. and Ms. Bennett were in their mid thirties, with a fifteen year old son, strict and unforgiving but loving all the same. Maximus continued to thrive there in his new home, a nice, big house in the better part of town. He was enrolled in a private school and pleased his parents greatly by bringing home perfect grade cards. At school, he was quiet but well liked, he’d surprise the class with a comment here and then that made them laugh and that seemed to be enough to get him accepted into their good graces. Maximus didn’t exactly get along with his older brother, John, who still resented his parents for bringing another kid into the house. Most of the time he kept his distance, and they never really spoke that much, and Maximus hasn’t seen him since he moved out of the house when Max was eighteen.

The years continued to ebb away until he was a teenager, proud and terribly temperamental at the age of fifteen. Suddenly nothing was good enough and the questions that had been repressed behind childlike naivety had begun to surface. He wanted to know who his mother was, who his father was, who he was. His parents, adoptive parents, couldn’t give him answers and he resented them for it. He spent more and more time away from home, but mostly he sought solace in his textbooks and studies, instead of rebelling against his education, he embraced it. Of course, that was a good thing, what parents didn’t want their kid to care about school. However, for Maximus, it wasn’t healthy. He still had friends, sure, but nobody solid; there wasn’t a soul he dared tell any secrets, confide his fears . It was like that for a while, although in time he settled, probably around the age of eighteen when his adoptive father died of a heart attack one morning. That sobered him up pretty quickly and he snapped back to the mindful, willing boy he’d been before, although that sharp curiosity and the inability to let anything go without being questioned was now more prominent. He got a job at the market as he continued schooling and soon enough he graduated. He put a lot of thought into what he wanted to do before he decided on teaching, english in particular.

With some effort, he managed to enroll in Oxford university and majored in English. He graduated and got his Master’s at the age of twenty-six. It was the year he graduated that he met Isabelle; she was studying photography and had decided that he’d make a great subject. She asked if she could take his picture and he hadn’t seen any harm in it so he’d agreed. Well one picture turned into two, which turned into ten, which then turned into a drink at a bar and a long conversation. She was twenty-four years old, enjoying life to the fullest, that’s what she’d always told him. After that night, they’d continued to each other as a sort of casual dating type thing. Within four months, it had become something much more, neither of them could have explained it if they’d tried and pretty soon, Isabelle had moved into his apartment. Two months after that he asked her to marry him and she accepted. A month after that they were wedded. Seven months in total, this relationship took place, blossomed and grew, a short amount of time but it seemed like a lifetime. At least at the time.

They went off on their honeymoon, not in one place but instead backpacking the Europe. It was in Norway that Isabelle became pregnant, oh was Max ecstatic. They both had discussed children but they hadn’t really been too sure about when or how many they wanted. The two quickly returned to their flat. Max got a job teaching and Issy continued to sell her photographs, making a good profit. Eighth and half months later everything ended with a beginning.

Issy went into labor a few weeks early, nothing to worry about, the baby, a boy they’d found out, should be fine. Of course, sometimes the world doesn’t always work the way it should and for some reason it was destined for Max and Issy’s time together to end. Maximus was right there holding her hand when the doctors figured something was wrong. The baby’s heartbeat was off and Issy’s pulse was weak at best. Even now, Maximus couldn’t tell you what went wrong, only that there was a flurry of movement, he was forcefully removed from the delivery room, and that’s the last time he saw his wife. Two hours later Maximus was left with a few sorrowful words and little else. Issy was gone, there’d been nothing they could do. They’d managed to keep his son breathing, Oliver Camron Gideon, they were going to name him, but it wasn’t looking good. They’d taken him to see his baby, he’d put his hand through the little window in the incubator and had watched his son, oh how fragile he had been, felt the brush of his fingers as they curled around his father’s.

Two days later his son died, peacefully he’d been told, while he was sleeping, but that wasn’t exactly consolation. After that, Max was completely and utterly devastated. He was only twenty-eight, but his entire life had already passed him by. Max threw himself into his teaching, perhaps a bit harder than was healthy. He moved to a new town and got a job in an all boys academy. He worked there, as an english professor, for about six years before he was promoted to headmaster. He’d been content to work there and head the school, and did so for four years before he was forced to merge the school with a girl’s academy. He can’t say he’s happy about this turn of events, but he’s eager to see where it’ll take him.

unsaid things

read the rules: screw the rest
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