Post by deepwallow on Jan 28, 2014 21:47:20 GMT -5
It wasn't everyday that he got out. Ok, lets be honest, he NEVER was allowed out of the house. Or, more specifically, the basement. His home sweet home. But someone needed to get Greg and...ugh.....Tyler, from school. And that's what brought the normally hidden eldest son of the Virgsons out, driving in the family's Ferari.
Faux, for one, was happy to get out. With blonde hair and blue eyes, he didn't seem like the victim of abuse. But I guess that's how it goes sometimes. Oh well. He got the whole basement to himself, away from his parents and Tyler. Greg would bring him movies from time to time, so it seemed like an ok life. Though Greg always asked why Faux had to stay in the basement and why Greg was t allowed to be down there with him. Faux always gave him vague answers, but he himself knew the trust, or some of it.
It had to do with his mom. No, not the evil a**-hat of a stepmom he had now. HIS mom. His biological mama. She was, from what Faux could gather from the very fleeting moments her talk to his dad and the things she left behind, different. Exactly in what way, Faux was never sure. It had something to do with who she was. She wasn't famous or anything, but she was just..... Different.
Though it frustrated him, Faux didn't pry into it too much, since his dad would get angry, but his step-mom even worse. So he quite asking and instead did what they said the few times they spoke to him. Which was how he got here. Truthfully, this was the first time he went to visit His step-brothers' school. It was a grad school to highschool kind of place, though the two were seperated building, but not too far apart.
Faux pulled up in the parking lot near the school and got out, locking the car before heading over to find his brothers. He was dressed in tore jeans and a punk like shirt, combat boots completing the look. He didn't care what others thought of him. After all, he'd likely never see them again. His arms were, to be frank, ripped but not enormous and visible since his sleeves were torn. Guess that's what happened when all you had to do was exercise and watch movies everyday. Ah well.
Faux crossed over to the two building of the school as highschool kids filed out. They were about his age, though younger. Faux was 17 going on 18, so he should've been a senior if his dad had actually entered him into school. But oh well. Faux learned at home. Instead he passed by, not caring about whatever looks the teens through at him. He just wore a crooked smile, glad to be outside again as he headed for the gradeschool and to find his brothers.
Faux, for one, was happy to get out. With blonde hair and blue eyes, he didn't seem like the victim of abuse. But I guess that's how it goes sometimes. Oh well. He got the whole basement to himself, away from his parents and Tyler. Greg would bring him movies from time to time, so it seemed like an ok life. Though Greg always asked why Faux had to stay in the basement and why Greg was t allowed to be down there with him. Faux always gave him vague answers, but he himself knew the trust, or some of it.
It had to do with his mom. No, not the evil a**-hat of a stepmom he had now. HIS mom. His biological mama. She was, from what Faux could gather from the very fleeting moments her talk to his dad and the things she left behind, different. Exactly in what way, Faux was never sure. It had something to do with who she was. She wasn't famous or anything, but she was just..... Different.
Though it frustrated him, Faux didn't pry into it too much, since his dad would get angry, but his step-mom even worse. So he quite asking and instead did what they said the few times they spoke to him. Which was how he got here. Truthfully, this was the first time he went to visit His step-brothers' school. It was a grad school to highschool kind of place, though the two were seperated building, but not too far apart.
Faux pulled up in the parking lot near the school and got out, locking the car before heading over to find his brothers. He was dressed in tore jeans and a punk like shirt, combat boots completing the look. He didn't care what others thought of him. After all, he'd likely never see them again. His arms were, to be frank, ripped but not enormous and visible since his sleeves were torn. Guess that's what happened when all you had to do was exercise and watch movies everyday. Ah well.
Faux crossed over to the two building of the school as highschool kids filed out. They were about his age, though younger. Faux was 17 going on 18, so he should've been a senior if his dad had actually entered him into school. But oh well. Faux learned at home. Instead he passed by, not caring about whatever looks the teens through at him. He just wore a crooked smile, glad to be outside again as he headed for the gradeschool and to find his brothers.
