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Forums > Roleplay > 1x1
   1 

1x1 | Tea x BoeApril 27, 2025 07:59 PM


Boeing

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Posts:1853
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Alrighty. So.

PLOT:

Every summer, the golden children of Ashcroft Bay return to their waterfront estates, all Range Rovers, designer polos, and champagne-drenched secrets. But this year, the illusion cracks when Bennet Ashcroft, Boston College hockey star and heir to the oldest fortune in town, is found dead on the country club golf course. The police whisper accident. The old families close ranks. And somewhere between martini-soaked galas, yacht parties, and late-night beach fires, a killer hides in plain sight. Tensions rise as rivalries flare, alliances shift, and the glossy world of old money turns venomous. Everyone's watching, but no one of them knows what really happened.

(going to also say Tea wrote this, I just copied it in ;))

~

Standard rules also do apply though. Please don't post if you're not mentioned in the title. While I can't physically stop you, just don't do it. Thanks :D


Edited at April 27, 2025 09:57 PM by Boeing
1x1 | Tea x BoeApril 27, 2025 08:01 PM


The Tea Drinkers

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Posts:2824
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Full Name

Shiloh Avner Brooks

Nicknames

Brooky, Boo

Name Meaning

Sent, Light, Running Water

Gender

Male

Pronouns

He/Him

Sexuality

Painfully Straight

Personality

Shiloh is the kind of guy who can charm his way through any room, always with a smile that could talk anyone into anything. He knows exactly how to work a crowd, and he’s got a knack for making people laugh or swoon with just a few words. His confidence is through the roof: he knows he’s prettier, richer, and more talented than most, and he’s not afraid to let you know. But it’s not so much arrogance as it is knowing he’s got the “I can get away with anything” energy, and it makes him feel untouchable. He’s a bit bratty, teasing people for fun, and it occasionally can go too far, becoming mean-spirited.


While he’s competitive by nature, he’s also a bit lazy. Shiloh has a ton of natural talent, especially in sports: tennis, hockey, but he doesn’t always give 100%. He can coast through life without trying too hard and still come out on top, but if you push him hard enough, he’s more than capable of flipping the switch and dominating.


On the outside, Shiloh often comes across as a little shallow, obsessed with appearances, luxury, and all the perks of being rich. His social presence is flawless, and he’s always surrounded by people. But with a look closer, one can see that Shiloh’s more than just a pretty boy with a trust fund. He’s got a secret desire to get his loving but distant parents to notice him. Most of his life has been spent trying to earn their approval, chasing after their attention because it’s always felt just out of reach. No matter how many trophies or good grades he gets, it’s never enough to make them truly see him for who he is.


Flirty and non-committal, Shiloh’s always got someone on his arm, but he never sticks around long enough to form anything real. He’s just in it for the thrill and the attention. Even so, he’d never admit it, but there’s loyalty buried beneath all the bravado.


Appearance

Shiloh is a solid 6’1”, with a lean, athletic frame that screams effortless Daddy’s money. His face is all sharp jawlines and high cheekbones, like he was born to be on a yacht in the Hamptons. His lips are just the right amount of full, almost pushing feminine, and when he smiles, it’s got that cocky smirk, like he’s got the world figured out. His eyes? Piercing blue that can either make you feel like he’s reading your soul or like he’s just sizing you up. His hair’s the perfect mix of messy and styled, a little longer than most, falling past his collarbone in sun-kissed waves that say he doesn’t try too hard, and it works (on most girls).. He’s always dressed designer, but in that effortlessly preppy way: tailored shirts, fresh kicks, and polos or button-ups that fit just right. He’s always got a gold watch on his wrist, a couple of bracelets, and sunglasses perched on his face, because why wouldn’t he? He walks into any room, and you know immediately he’s never wanted, never had to work a day in his life.

Family Ties:
Garrett William Brooks (Father)-

Garrett Brooks was a man carved from stone, a monument to ambition and discipline in its most merciless form. From the moment he could walk, he had been pushed toward greatness, each step weighed down by the crushing expectations of a family that measured love in success and valued silence over sentiment.
Failure was never an option—not in the Brooks lineage.
Garrett had understood that from the start.
So he made himself unbreakable.
He attended all the right schools, climbed every ladder that was placed before him, and pushed himself harder than anyone dared to ask. His victories were never loud, never celebrated with champagne toasts or proud slaps on the back; they were expected.
Earned in sweat and sleepless nights, and acknowledged with a curt nod or a new responsibility to shoulder.
At twenty-eight, he married Evelyn Brooks—a woman whose name alone opened doors, but whose beauty and breeding made her a prize even in circles where everyone had money. She was one of the very few people Garrett genuinely admired, though true to his nature, he rarely expressed it.
Affection, to him, was a private thing.
Almost a weakness.
In public, they were the perfect pair: polished, poised, untouchable.
Behind closed doors, his loyalty to her was deep and unwavering—though often unspoken.
Fatherhood, like marriage, was simply another duty to perform flawlessly.
Garrett approached his sons the same way he approached his business ventures: expecting perfection, tolerating nothing less.
He demanded excellence, offered little praise, and viewed emotions as distractions best eradicated early.
Mistakes were not learning opportunities in Garrett’s world—they were embarrassments.
Risks were foolish unless they were guaranteed wins.
And softness?
Softness had no place in the Brooks family crest.
Still, somewhere buried under all the steel and pressure, there was a part of Garrett that felt pride for his boys—brief flashes he quickly stamped down before they could make him careless. Love, in his mind, was not the wild, messy thing the poets talked about.
It was quiet.

Evelyn Vera Brookss (Mother)-

Evelyn Brooks was the crown jewel of East Coast aristocracy. Tall, fair, and almost painfully beautiful in that effortless, old money kind of way, she had been raised in a world of pressed pleats, cashmere cardigans, and carefully calculated charm. From her first breath, she had been groomed for a life of polished perfection—private schools where the skirt hem was inspected more carefully than the curriculum, summers spent gliding between yacht clubs and seaside galas, and winters tucked away in ski lodges that smelled of cedar and legacy.
She had been raised to believe her life would unfold like a string of pearls: one polished event after another, culminating in the ultimate prize—a wealthy husband who could finance her endless clam bakes, charity balls, and shopping sprees without ever asking where the money went.
Children had never been part of her dreams.
But children were expected.
Evelyn endured her pregnancies with the same detached grace she applied to everything unpleasant—head held high, smile politely frozen in place, eyes already drifting past the cribs and baby showers to the next luncheon or polo match. She bore her two sons dutifully, gave them strong names—names that looked good engraved on silver picture frames—and then stepped back, her maternal obligations complete.
The boys were accessories to her life, much like her string of Mikimoto pearls or her gleaming white Range Rover: polished, presented, but rarely handled.
She made sure they looked right—pressed shirts, matching haircuts, perfectly staged holiday cards—but she left the actual raising to governesses, tutors, and the crushing expectations of the Brooks legacy.
She worked tirelessly to shape them into the ideal Brooks men: quiet, charming, handsome, and above all, unblemished.
No messy emotions.
No loud opinions.
No failures.
Love, in Evelyn’s world, was not unconditional.
It was a reward you earned by being better.
By being perfect.
And perfection, after all, was the family business.

Sutton Aubrey Brooks (Brother)-

Sutton Aubrey Brooks might look like a carbon copy of his older brother, but that’s where the resemblance ended.
Sure, they shared the same sun-bleached curls, the same broad, white, camera-ready smiles that made strangers sigh and family friends whisper aren’t they just perfect?
But the shine on Sutton was a little different.
Less polished, more dangerous.
Where Shiloh could be cold and cutting in a crowd—every move deliberate, every smile a performance—Sutton carried himself with a quieter, almost lazy charm. He flirted. He teased. He played the part of the carefree younger brother with an easy, lopsided grin and that golden-boy glint in his eye.
But the moment the air shifted—the moment tension cracked in the room—Sutton sharpened.
He listened, waited, learned.
There was a patience to Sutton that made him infinitely more dangerous than his flashier, more impulsive brother.
He didn’t need to be the loudest.
He just needed to be the last one standing.
Unlike Shiloh, who craved their parents' affection like a half-starved dog, Sutton had different ambitions.
He didn’t want approval, he didn’t even want acknowledgment.
Sutton wanted to be untouchable.
Stronger.
Smarter.
Self-made in a family that measured worth by bloodlines and bank accounts.
He loved his brother fiercely, but he knew better than to follow in his footsteps. Shiloh bled for the family. Sutton planned to walk away from it.
Still, beneath all the edges, Sutton was a rose, an absolute rose.
Soft. Sincere.
Someone who laughed too easily, who could make a room feel lighter just by walking into it, who still believed in something gentler than what they were raised for, even if he didn’t dare say it out loud.

Favourite Quote

“I desire the things which will destroy me in the end.”

-Sylvia Plath

Other

❤︎


Edited at April 28, 2025 08:18 PM by The Tea Drinkers
1x1 | Tea x BoeApril 28, 2025 02:16 AM


Boeing

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Posts:1853
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Valeria Rengel

Female (she/her)

q

~

Appearance;

Valeria stands at a respectable 165cm (fight me Americans >:D) with a ponytail of cholocolate brown hair falling down to about her waist. Hazel brown eyes and high cheekbones go with that too. It isn't about her physical appearance, though, usually when you see her.

While she doesn't have much physical strength to back herself (being about 55kgs?), she still has the vibe of "don't mess". Partly because of her stance - while shy of being aggressive, it definitely isn't submissive either. She's a bit proud, too - shoulders back, spine straight. A collected demeanour, at least in front of other people. Because while there's othe people, there's judgement. And judgement isn't good, unless it's good judgement. So while she's not excatly posturing - it's an ingrained habit for her to hold herself upright - it is still for the visual cameras - that she isn't really going to back down or be some submissive lady.

~

Personality;

On first impressions, Valeria can be a bit overwhelming. Slightly distant and reserved, not exactly conributing but not being a deadweight either. Somewhere in the middle, where she is helping and keeping the conversation up, but not really doing much. That's usually because she doesn't want to talk to you, so hey, heads up!

The cold and standoffish feel is only reserved for absolute strangers or people she doesn't like, though, and to most other people Valeria is... let's call it passionate. "Dedicated" might be a better word, honestly. Point in case, she's willing to go a long way to get something done - while she may be in the higher social circles, she also understands that money doesn't come for free in her family. As a first-generation American with Latino roots, in these cicles purely because of the status of her parents, it's a tall image to live up to and continue. Result is her dedication, understanding that she still needs to work to stay in these circles.

This has given her... a bit of disdain for all of those with old money that also flaut it by doing whatever they want. She holds quite a bit of a work ethic to herself, and for those who don't have any at all, she's a bit distant from them unless she's required to get something from them. It can be a bit annoying, true - but that's just how she is with people she isn't comfortable with.

This also comes with it's cons, however. Her work ethic strings he up to the point where minute errors can hang her up on for far too long. Debating and counter-debating in her head about major things is easy. For the more minor things... some tiny aspect that people would have moved on from, Verlia can just sometimes get stuck at. It's just the aspect that bothers her.

Valeria has a heightened sense of empathy - to the point where the ant on the wall will be moved onto a piece of paper and moved outside rather than being smacked. This also applies to people, however; she's able to empathize with quite a proportion of people, as long as they're not being what classifies as "idiot" in Valeria's mind. (Unfortunately, quite a few people qualify.) While it's not to the point of standing up for the new guy who no-one knows in the yard, she'd stillf feel for that person. Unless they got what they deserved, that is. Nonetheless, she isn't one to try taunt another.

Speaking of which, Valeria's friendship circles are significantly more defined than others. To most other people, she seems like someone who wouldn't be the greatest of friends, but to those who know him she really associates himself with those she forms bonds with. With association comes the will to be able to stand up for them, too. This is another defining aspect of Valeria's personality - she is loyal to those he believes is right. Even if they aren't. Loyal to a fault.

Emotions aren't something Valeria can express easily. With her straight-backed posture, it's easy to assume that "she's fine". Sometimes she isn't, and just goes to great lengths to hide exactly that. She doesn't want people to know about herself - she holds empathy to others and is willing to sympathize with them, but herself? Nope. No-one needs to know of her inner struggles of attempting to live up to her parents' name, or how some aspects of her personality clash all the time. They just don't need to know, so Valeria hides it. Problem solved... kind of.

Valeria rarely smiles. The world is a serious place, she's serious about what she's trying to do, and why the hell are you still standing in her way? With that is parts of her concentration - "posing for the cameras", as one would say it in modern terms. Valeria tries to cultivate the feel of somewhat distant (because she doesn't want to talk to you), focussed on doing what's needed with her work ethic. But then that's just with people that don't classify as a close friend, or when there's people at all. While not entirely stone-faced - her expression can change, thank you very much - it's sill posing for the nonexistent cameras.

~

... might add more later? Consider it done but I might add more e.e

1x1 | Tea x BoeApril 28, 2025 03:19 PM


The Tea Drinkers

Darkseeker
 
Posts:2824
#3095182
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Shiloh tugged at the tight collar of his suit jacket, glaring at his reflection like it had personally offended him. The dark fabric hugged his frame too stiffly, too properly, like it was trying to box him into the perfect son he was supposed to be. Everything about today felt off, like he was moving through someone else’s nightmare, and he was bone-deep exhausted from the endless grief parading through the house.


Being a Brooks had never exactly been a dream come true. It was more like a curated museum exhibit: polished smiles, manicured lawns, and rules you didn’t even know you were breaking until it was too late. But this? This was worse.


His cousin Isobel, sweet, bright, untouchable Izzy, was dead. And no one had answers, at least not good ones..

No warning signs, no whispered secrets about her health between the older members of the family. Just... gone. Like a breath of summer wind.

It didn’t make sense. Isobel had been one of the few good things in their world of coldness: smart, beautiful, different in the way he had only ever dreamed of being.


Shiloh swallowed hard, memories hitting him like waves against the rocks.

Sun-drenched afternoons tangled in beach towels, laughing so hard their sides ached. Secret mocktails made with too much whipped cream. Long hours floating in the Atlantic while their parents argued politics and history behind heavy glass doors.

He hadn’t seen her much in the past few years: life had gotten complicated, and it was easier to carry on than to reach back—but still.

He had still cared for her.

And now she was a headline.


The heavy oak door creaked open, pulling him out of the spiral. Sutton stepped into the room, looking about as wrecked as Shiloh felt. His brother's dark grey suit was rumpled like he'd lost a battle against sleep, but his eyes were red-rimmed and heavy, like he hadn't rested in weeks.


Shiloh didn’t say anything at first. He just watched in the mirror as Sutton crossed the room and collapsed onto the edge of the bed, slumped forward like all the air had been knocked out of him.


Their mother Evelyn, would certainly *not* approve.

She had built them like matching bookends: tall, blond, well-mannered. Given them identical initials, identical monogrammed polos, identical damn haircuts for half their childhood.

And then she had left them to figure it all out on their own.

To be perfect, quietly, and preferably far away from her.


Shiloh adjusted his tie with a sharp jerk, checking the knot like it would somehow armor him against what was coming.


“Well,” he said after a beat, voice rough, trying for casual and missing by a mile. “The car’s probably waiting.”


Sutton didn’t move, but stared down at the floor like it might give him answers no one else could.

Finally, he mumbled, "Why would someone hurt Izzy?"


Shiloh’s jaw tightened. He turned from the mirror, fists clenching at his sides without him even realizing.


“We don’t know that for sure,” he snapped, too harsh, too fast.

He knew he was arguing just to argue, and he knew Sutton knew it too. They fell into a tired silence, walking down towards the stairs.

----

The drive to the church was silent except for the soft hum of the car engine and the occasional click of Sutton anxiously tapping his thumb against the seat belt buckle.


Shiloh slumped deeper into the leather seat, legs spread out like he didn’t have a care in the world, though he was doing his best not to spiral into the memories again. He tilted his head against the window, letting the cool glass press into his temple, and watched the world blur by—rows of mansions with neatly trimmed hedges; stone walls and large gilt gates with familiar last names arching gracefully over them.


The car pulled up to the church, a bright white stone building that looked like it had been yanked straight out of some old novel. White flowers spilled down the front steps, too pristine, too fresh and newborn for what they were about to walk into.


The driver stepped out and opened the door, and the boys straightened, preparing for the blaze of the sun, the throngs of people.

Sutton slid out first, pulling at the cuffs of his jacket like it would somehow make him look less pained.

Shiloh hesitated, just for a second, and straightened his tie. Rolled his shoulders back. There couldn’t be hesitation today, not with so many people expecting so much, looking to them.


Smile, Shiloh. Look the part. Make them proud, for once.


He stepped out of the car and into the breezy summer air, feeling what felt like a thousand pairs of eyes flick to him.


Shiloh slid his sunglasses down from where they rested in his curls, hiding the fresh sting creeping into his eyes. No one wanted to see a boy cry, especially from his family.

That wasn't the brand.


The massive oak doors of the church yawned open, and the smell of lilies hit him like a punch to the gut.

He hated lilies.

Izzy had hated them too, at least that's what he thought he remembered. Whose idea had they been?


Sutton hovered at his side, looking like a little kid again, lost and furious all at once. Shiloh bumped his shoulder lightly into his brother’s, a rare show of affection neither of them would ever acknowledge out loud,and together, they walked up the steps.

Edited at April 28, 2025 08:19 PM by The Tea Drinkers

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