Navigation. ━
beyond bastardom ; ( man-made havoc )
beyond manufactured greed ; ( tales and liquors )
beyond the screen ; ( end note )
Biographical Information.
| Name | Graham Rye |
| Gender | Male |
| Height | 187 cm |
| Hair color | Silver white |
| Eye color | Obsidian blue |
GRAHAM RYE: hovering in the in-between of two fates, two syllables lolling from the tip of their speaker's tongue in a jarring staccato just like his namesake.Your mother fears you because you are your father's son; ambitious with goals grander than what you could achieve, dead set on an illusive finish line. Your mother does not matter, because there is always a loophole in the system. Great minds perceive, and great ambitions achieve. No one ever tells you that you how to achieve the milestones your father has achieved. You still manage, or at least you are still managing.There are hurdles, or rules—or whatever others might call it; they are meant to be broken. You are truly your father's son.
Mixtape.
1. Family Tree by EZI
"See, apple doesn't fall far from the tree."2. Broken Crown by Mumford & Sons
"But oh, my heart was flawed.3. A Little Wicked by Valeri Broussard
No once calls you honey, when you're sitting on a throne."4. Cocoon by Milky Chance
"Let me bleed instead if you.5. I Found by Amber Run
"And I'll use you as a makeshift gauge."
Fire dances a graceful waltz around him and he knows (of course, Graham is not stupid) he can never become the great guardian. He burns the brightest and hottest than any of his kin but because his fire is blue (blue as the sky, blue as the sea) perhaps it is not as hot as he thinks.(To dream everything and have nothing.)
THRICE HIS LIFE TAKES A SADISTIC TURN. Twice his heart has a beat, two, three, and it is for others who grow on the plain of his life like anything green and wild. Once it feels like a rebirth, like a catharsis after a long-suffering loop of nightmares.
THEY WILL TELL YOU THE TALE OF A DOG sculpted from icebergs and winter, of a son marked a bastard because the dogs of Rye are creatures born from the darkest night with eyes that bleed red and junkyard and graveyard for body, serrated claws and fangs that can slice through metals and bones. They stalk the ungodly hours with back ramrod straight under their tailored wear and features and pale skin, because they are dogs, dogs of Rye. But this the tale is a tale of a dog borne from winter and days where the sun shines brightest and what has died finally lives.His mother, Istas, an honored dog of Rye too, died as a hurting star, burning too bright her dying moments breezed as a joke passed among nosy kins and servants. (Because his grandfather's bleeding red eyes spun in their sockets as he said: FOOLISH CHILD, OH YOU ARE NOT FIRE-BORN AND ENSCRIPTED IN MOLTEN GOLD and Graham wonders from time to time if retaining an ocean of blue magma behind his eyes is a bad thing. THE UNFORTUNATE MUTT YOU ARE.) She was scorned for a deed she never served, a child born from her own blood and her beloved, a twist that ensnares after her passing and could never be straightened.At least Graham proved her wrong; because once a Rye will always be a Rye. He may be a half-blood, but he is still his father's son.
[1] You know the jazz. This is a roleplay account dedicated for roleplay and writing only. Maybe a splash of fun here and there, but still. Writing.
[2] Unless I deem something offensive (involve stuffs like supporting toxic behaviors), I welcome all kinds of interactions. Heck, ships are also accepted. Just slide into my DMs and we can have a nice, long discussion over a joke or two.
[3] I write in Indonesian and English. More comfortable with the latter. Crappy and super slow at both. Even without cooking oil, my brain gets fried easily. So consider this as an advance apology before the storm strikes.
[4] Like any of you, I enjoy writing but things been kind of rough and this actually puts me in a state of limbo, where I'm there and then but also not really? I am still trying to find my own writing style through a series of solo I will post from time to time. Interactions will be my number two priority but do not fret for I will reply. Just, kind of slow.