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Posted: Jul 11 2016, 01:27 AM
Marley Jacinta Reine Rodriguez.
29 years old. Drummer for Degenerate Youth. Witch. Sandra Alvarenga.
Rhy. 23. PST. AIM/Skype.
BASICS #01Full Name: Marley Jacinta Reine Rodriguez.
Nickname: Bobby (Careful with that one), Mars, Spitfire.
Birthday: June 17th.
Species: Witch - Black affiliation. Combustion talent.
Height: 5' 5".
Weight: 168 lbs.
Face Claim: Sandra Alvarenga.
BASICS #02Sexual orientation: Demisexual/gynoromantic.
Gender: Doesn't care.
Pronouns: They/She/Him/Whatever. No 'it.'
Occupation: Drummer for Degenerate Youth, co-founder.
Hometown: Corbin City, New Jersey.
Relationship Status: Complicated.
Family: Amarone Rodriguez, mother, deceased - and Mars's father, left unnamned.
So, almost no musician has a happy home life, and this can be said the same of Marley Rodriguez, the young half French, half Spanish witchling from a mother who spoke with kindness and almost unnerving certainty (premonitions, after all) and a father who knew nothing about his French wife being a witch, him just a lowly human with drinking problem, born in the state of New Jersey.
Marley's conception was far from planned, and for the first few months, all the couple did was fight about keeping the baby, but by the time any decision was set, Marley's mother, Amarone, already knew that keeping her unborn was top priority. Something about the babe told her to keep an eye out for them, and soon enough... well.
Not every vision she had was right, but her hopes stayed high, she wrote letters to have the babe read when they were older, to explain things... And she hid them away. Of course, the reason behind that was because she knew she didn't have much left on her life clock, and Amarone couldn't stomach letting her child be left at the hands of someone who wanted nothing more than to ignore life's problems. Because, after all, around her... life was pretty much 'magically' kept in order.
That no longer was the case when Amarone suddenly went into labour earlier than expected, and the results of the woman both not being prepared, a mere EMT who arrived at the distress call of Ama's workplace, and an angry soon-to-be father who had rushed to her side but refused to let anyone help her had served to do damage that couldn't be helped. Marley lost a mother that they dearly had needed... and Marley's father had no idea how to handle a screaming infant.
Apparently he did well enough by sending the baby to her grandparents' home when he could, finding it easier to work, come home, drink til he was nearly smashed, and sleep it off til morning. This of course wasn't a good idea with a baby that depended on him for everything, who had lost their other parent, and that was why Marley's family on their mother's side stepped in best they could. They couldn't very well hex this man, it would out them, and he was still the father to their wonderful little grandchild, who had been dearly loved by their daughter. Keeping the baby close, it wasn't til Mar was a toddler that her father received an ultimatum to clean up, or lose his child for lack of decency and responsibility. They weren't stupid, after all -- they knew what he really wanted, and parenthood was far from that area.
But, he tried to clean himself up the best he could for the time, and slowly, the grandparents allowed Marley to go back to living full time with their father. Of course, this meant that the man needed help, and Marley's first real friend was their babysitter. While they didn't grow up entirely alone, they had a babysitter on some nights of the week while their father worked a dead-end job and would often come home at four in the morning, incoherent, the little one seemed innate, knowing when to hide. That, of course, seemed to slide off as they got older, started asking more questions -- wanted to know why they didn't have another parent, why they lived in a run-down apartment that was barely ever clean, and why they couldn't stay with their grandparents.
And that experience was what rocked the young witchling into silence around their father ever since. Anger, bottles thrown, the very real danger of this man harming Marley was enough to throw them for a loop. This was the beginning of a rockier relationship, one that slowly, ever s slowly, came to a boil when Marley was just barely hitting their teens.
They moved when Marley was twelve to New York, in a small suburb, somewhere decently far enough away from the hustle and bustle that they would be further from the prying eyes of Marley's grandparents. It was sudden, that nippy summer, and with nothing to help the young one cope with losing their school friends and their babysitter, Marley of course became more rowdy. And this didn't spell well, because the further they were from the grandparents who were dubbed as 'weirdos', the less he had to act like some chivalrous parent.
There was such a hard shift in his attitude toward Marley, his tolerance for them wearing clothing that ranged from dressed to jeans, to blouses to nothing on top, he soon was calling it 'flirtatious', and it was the beginning of their questioning phase. Called a girl from birth, Marley couldn't help but feel pushed into a box of labels, and it was through music that she started to find some kinship with others, people who understood her frustrations, and likened their fans... to family. The first real positivity that Marley had since being uprooted from Jersey.
It wasn't an uncommon thing to hear the young Rodriguez tapping away a beat on their desk at school -- but through the band that made their life open up, their mind come out of the closet of hiding their own tongue -- Marley found passion in the beat. Music became much more than just a passing thing of enjoyment; it literally became Marley's escape within the first two months of living in New York. Their father got louder, so did their music. Their father rose a hand to them, Marley began to glare and step forward. It gave Marley confidence in themselves for the first time, and honestly, the fact that their father held their lives in his hands was seemingly less real with the more time he spent yelling, and more time Marley spent running from the sound, in music of literally bolting for the night and showing up at school the next morning.
Of course, this was soon noticeable to most of the adults -- Marley's attitude was getting sharper, talked less, often feeling cornered and provoked -- and they went to talk to Marley's father of this. And that, well, safe to say, didn't end well once he ha to stop being civil. Once they were home, it was the first time that he struck Marley, he warned them to 'watch their mouth' and threatened along the lines of 'giving it a better use.' Not that the young witchling knew what that meant at twelve, but all it did was spark their anger worse.
Outside of school, they were quieter for a few weeks, but soon enough, it was starting again, and Marley just couldn't control the frustration and anger building in their head. The headaches became constant, fueled their anger, and without meaning to provoke them, all it honestly took at fourteen (after a year and a quarter of heir father's strikes and angry words) was for a bully to press his luck and call them a cross-dressing dyke.
The lights along the hallway of the school's ceiling all shattered with seconds, and scared everyone shitless -- including Marley, who was later found hiding in the boy's restroom, in a stall, curled up and shaking.
The incident was blamed as a power surge, but what broke the camel's back for the young witch was when their father tried to come into the school to claim her (for they were frankly too shell-shocked to be there for the rest of the day). He had moved to grab their wrist, the witch had jolted, and the counselor saw the hidden bruises up along Marley's shoulders and lower neck when the jacket was tugged. it wasn't until a few days later, when child services were stepping in, that Marley told her algebra teacher about what was going on at home.
Quickly, she was put into the care of her grandparents back in Jersey while the courts handled the situation. While forced to stay in foster care for a month before they allowed Marley to go to Jersey, they at least were kind enough to let her stay with fosters who were easygoing, soft-spoken people.
Altercation. That's what they called the incident that took his life. He had been sentenced to jail, but child molesters never last in prison once the word gets out. Living with their grandparents for the remainder of their teen years, Marley's grandfather passed away and left them a small place in New York, a once-business that had failed when he was younger, and enough money to get them started up on their own. With a heavy heart and nervous footsteps, Marley left new Jersey to settle back into the city that made their stomach clench and their anger flare at nineteen. Beginning online courses was simple enough, and five years down the road, with a major in business and a minor in music, Marley was finally starting to feel at one with themselves.
Of course, all of that wasn't done alone, and while Marley became more reserved and less talkative, they remained rash and more likely to cause a fight with someone new over chewing the fat. Their friends in New York became not only other witches, but shifters, demons... anything and everything. Even a human or two became decently friendly around the half-witch, and while they aren't super close to anyone, at least Marley can say that they've done well for themselves.
That building was shit when Mars got their hands on it in the beginning. But, with time, love, and more than a little fresh paint and licences, the building became so much more. It was turned into a vinyl store below (musical instruments, too, but not nearly as plentiful), and the above became Marley's single bedroom flat. Nothing fancy, but with the right help and considerations, it slowly became a home, and the bad memories of their younger days finally began to shift away. With determination to bring music into the community that, the business was located, it wasn't long at all before the local musicians came around, they would play, draw crowds.... and it couldn't have made the non-binary any happier.
Drag King Days.
No place was better to discover a name for what they really were, than Pride. It wasn't anything that Marley had really know about, albeit being liberal and open minded, but it was one of these lovely events that Marley found themselves talking up with a young man who told them all about breaking the gender binaries. Something that Marley had been doing their entire life, unable to step into either realm for too long. While labels remained annoying, it was nice to have a title for what they had been feeling their entire life, and at twenty-one, Marley came out as genderfluid, if only to themselves... and correcting anyone who wanted to call them out as a lesbian. Any pronouns slid with them, honestly, but being labeled as a woman really slides high on their grr-meter. And, well, with comfort came understanding of more than just themselves, too.
Twenty-four and finally getting a stronger grasp on their ability, telekinesis, it was far from easy to grasp how to keep a level head. However, the headaches from childhood still come, but they're better managed... To a point.
Agitating the sleeping bear is never wise, and Marley's had to replace the windows in their shop once already... For the most part, it's drinking glasses or the like that shatter when their temper slides out of control, but safe to say, some customers just didn't see eye to eye with them. And calling Marley a few choice words was plenty to make them shoot a glare, and shit to go south. It wasn't exactly planned, after all, it just kind of happened when their temper broke past the chains and walls installed underneath. Back In Black Vinyls became a quick hotspot for musicians, and they say Marley can drum with the best of them.
In New York, You Can Be A New Man (Person)!!
So, come all ye musically-inclined peoples, to Back In Black Vinyls, and come be with your people!
PLAYER INFOAlias: Rhy.
Preferred Pronouns: He/him/his.
RP Limits: No child loss, domestic abuse, excessive gore -- but plot with me. I am logical. Touchy things need to have a reason to happen.
[FIRSTNAME] + [FIRSTNAME]
tagline, lyrics, whatevs.
plotting goes here!