𐚁𓇢𓆸𓄀˚☽˚.⋆
Name
Cash Belle Callahan
Nicknames
CB, Bells, Cass, Cay, Cal, Lan, Open for More!
Name Pronunciation
KASH, BEL, KA-luh-han
Name Meaning(s)
Empty/Hollow/Vain, Beautiful, Contention
Gender
Male
Sexuality
Bisexual - Male Leaning
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Appearance
Cash stands at a solid 5 '10”, built like someone who works hard but doesn’t show off about it, lean muscle layered just right, not too bulky, not too wiry. His blonde hair’s short and fluffy, got that kinda careless look that’s not really meant to stand out, but still suits him better than it has any right to. Eyes? Emerald green, but not the bright kind. They're dull, almost quiet, like a warning, like something that shouldn’t be that sharp but is anyway. You can’t stop looking, and you’re not sure if you’re supposed to.
His skin’s smooth across most of him, real clean-cut, but his hands say different, rough, calloused, worn in like old rope. He wears dark bootcut jeans pretty much religiously, always black or a deep grey, and his boots are black too. Cowboy style, of course, with a little skull painted onto the left heel, something to do with a family member he loves but pretends not to. It’s a whole story.
First look, he’s got that “don’t mess with me” vibe, hat tilted low, black and matching the boots, plain and completely off-limits to touch. Seriously. Don’t even try. Shirt-wise, he keeps it simple. Plain black or something muted in brownscale, the kind of stuff that doesn’t ask for attention. Some shirts have logos but he never wears those, not his thing. If it's chilly or just feels right, he throws on a worn black leather jacket that’s definitely seen better days, but he’s not about to replace it. It’s got history. Like him.
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Personality
Cash isn’t the kind of guy you just walk up to and get to know. He’s got that quiet "don’t come near me" energy that does most of the talking for him. Not rude, just real selective with who gets his time. He says what he means, no sugarcoating, and if the truth stings… well, you asked. He doesn’t really do the whole share-everything thing either. You could be around him for years and still not fully know what’s going on under the surface. He keeps his world locked up tight unless he wants you inside it, and honestly? Most of the time, he doesn’t. He seems cold, but he’s just unbothered by most things, he’ll clock what’s going on, think about it, and move on without a word. Nothing shakes him easily, and that includes people.
Under all that distance, though, Cash is someone you can count on. He’s reliable, plain and simple. You don’t even have to ask, if it needs doing, he’s already halfway through it. Never loud about it, never bragging, just gets things done. And if he cares about you? He’s loyal in that quiet, bone-deep way. Doesn’t matter how bad things get, he’s there. Doesn’t even need to say it, you’ll just know. He’s the type to encourage you without making it obvious. A look, a nod, a low “you got it”, and somehow, that’s more solid than a whole speech. He doesn’t lie, ever. If he’s keeping quiet, it’s not to dodge the truth, it’s to stop a mess from starting. He works hard and never complains, not because he enjoys it, but because quitting isn’t an option in his head.
Still, he’s got his own issues. He’s emotionally closed off, always has been. He feels stuff, but it stays locked up where it won’t mess with anything. He acts like appearances don’t matter, but he knows exactly what look he’s giving off and makes sure it stays that way. There’s pride there, just not the loud kind. And yeah, jealousy sneaks in sometimes, it doesn’t come out in words, more like long stares and colder silences. He doesn’t expect life to be fair, either. People disappoint, systems fail, and he plans like the worst is always around the corner. And when his mind’s made up? Good luck. He’ll hold that line no matter how much sense you're making, once he digs in, he’s staying there.
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Mannerisms
Adjusts his hat when uncomfortable. Tilts it forward or taps the brim to avoid eye contact.
Scans a room without moving much. Just his eyes do the work; always reading the space and people in it.
Stares way too long when he’s thinking. Just his eyes do the work; always reading the space and people in it.
Keeps his hands in his pockets until he has something to say or do. Closed-off by default.
Bounces one knee when he’s irritated but doesn’t want to show it. Subtle, but there.
Nods once instead of saying “thanks” or “okay”. Actions over words, always.
Rests against walls more than sitting down. Never fully relaxed around others.
Squints slightly when he's unsure about someone. It’s barely a change, but you’ll feel it.
Hobbies
Writing short notes he never gives to people. Sometimes he’ll write stuff down just to get it out, thoughts, confessions, things he wishes he could say out loud. He never actually gives them to anyone, just folds ‘em up and keeps them or tosses them, like it's enough to have it out of his head.
Exploring off-trail areas. He’s not the type to stick to marked paths, he’d rather go where no one else does. Wanders off just to see what’s out there, like the unknown makes more sense than people do.
Listening to old country or rock. Cash likes music that’s rough around the edges, stuff that sounds like it’s been through something. It’s not about the lyrics most of the time, just the feeling, familiar, steady, loud enough to drown out the rest.
Riding horses. He’s always been better with horses than people. There’s something about the quiet understanding, the trust without words, it just fits him better than conversation ever did.
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Morals
Lawful Neutral
Cash doesn’t sit around thinkin’ about morals, but he’s got ‘em anyway. He’d walk through fire for the people he’s loyal to, no hesitation. He hasn’t had to face the kill-or-be-killed type of choice yet, but if it came down to it, yeah, he probably would, if it meant keeping someone safe. He’ll stand by you, even if you’re in the wrong… though you’ll get the look, and he won’t let you forget it later.
He likes to believe he’s a good person, deep down. Not law-following kind of good, not always clean-hands kind of good, but solid. The kind that doesn’t back down, doesn’t betray, and doesn’t cross his own line unless he’s absolutely sure it’s worth it. He’s proud of that part of himself, even if he doesn’t talk about it.
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Angered By
Betrayal. There’s no scar deeper than betrayal in his book. When you trust someone, you’re giving them a part of yourself, and when that’s ripped away? It doesn’t just hurt, it changes everything. He’s not one to forget easily or let it slide quietly. Betrayal breaks the unspoken code he lives by, and after that, you’re dead to him.
Disrespect to Him or His People. Disrespect isn’t something he takes lightly, especially when it’s aimed at him or the people he’s loyal to. He’s not loud about it, but the cold stare and silence that follow are worse than any argument. Loyalty means standing up for your own, and if someone messes with that, they’re messing with him, and he doesn’t back down from that fight.
Fake Behaviour or Fake Kindness. He’s got no patience for fakeness. People can hide a lot, but pretending to care or putting on a show? He sees right through it. It’s like a noise in the background that just won’t shut off, and he’d rather deal with straight-up silence than sit through that kind of act. Realness is all he wants, even if it’s harsh.
Others Taking Credit for His Work. He’s not the type to brag or shout about what he does, but he’s damn sure aware when someone else tries to take credit. That kind of disrespect isn’t just annoying, it’s a direct attack on his pride and effort. When he puts in the work, it’s his, and watching someone else reap the rewards feels like a punch in the gut he can’t ignore.
Touching His Stuff Without Asking. His stuff is like a piece of his own space, his zone. Especially his hat, nobody gets to touch that, no exceptions. When people mess with his things without permission, it’s not just about stuff being moved around, it’s about boundaries being crossed. That quiet edge that shows up means you’ve stepped too far, and it’s best not to test how far he’ll take it.
Being Lied to. Lies are poison to him, no matter how small. He’d rather hear a harsh truth than a sweet lie because once the mask drops and he knows you lied, the trust is gone. It’s not something he forgets overnight, and every lie chips away at whatever respect he had left. Once you’re caught in a lie, you’re already on thin ice with him.
People Who Don’t Keep Their Word. Words mean weight in his world. When someone promises something, it’s more than just talk, it’s a bond he counts on. So when that bond is broken, when promises are just tossed aside, it’s like a punch straight to his pride. He won’t always say it, but disappointment in those moments cuts deeper than any argument.
Loves
Quiet mornings before anyone’s awake.
Loyalty without question.
Campfire nights with barely any talking.
Being trusted without having to prove himself.
That rare feeling when he actually relaxes.
Fears/Phobias
Aphenphosmphobia.
Philophobia.
Nosocomephobia.
Catagelophobia.
𓇢˚☽
Favourite Quotes/Sayings
“Speak low, if you speak love.”
“I’m not in this world to live up to your expectations and you’re not in this world to live up to mine.”
“The truth does not change according to our ability to stomach it.”
“Better to be hated for what you are than loved for what you are not.”
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Voice
Cash’s voice hits low and calm, like it’s always been there and doesn’t care if you notice it or not. It’s got that dusty cowboy edge, slow and steady with a little gravel tucked underneath, not from yelling or smoking, just from life. Every word he says feels like it’s been filtered through quiet judgment and a couple bad experiences. Doesn’t talk loud unless he needs to, and even then it’s more like a controlled warning than actual volume. His accent’s southern, real natural, not thick enough to feel forced but strong enough to tell you where he’s from without askin’. He talks like he moves, deliberate, unfazed, never in a rush unless something’s actually burning. You hear it and don’t question if he means what he says. He always does.
When he’s tired, the edges of his voice get even softer, drawl stretches out a bit more, almost like molasses over warm bread, slow, low, and a little more human than usual. Kinda soothing in a weird way, even if he’s not trying to be. Might mumble a little more, voice going raspy at the end of certain words, but it never slips into lazy. Still sharp. Still aware. When he’s mad though? That’s different. Doesn’t yell, doesn’t need to. His voice drops lower, clipped and cold, that kind of tone that makes you feel like you’re about to get wrecked without him raising a hand. No bark, all bite. And if he does raise his voice, just once? That’s when you know something real bad’s about to happen. Real talk, you don’t want to hear that tone.
But the strangest part is when he cares. He doesn’t really soften, not the way most people do, but there’s a shift. Like, he drops the weight out of his tone, lets it sit light for just a second. He’ll say your name differently, slower, with just a hint of warmth that wasn’t there before. It’s not sweet, but it’s safe. Like he’s handing you a part of himself without saying it out loud. Doesn’t happen often, but when it does, it sticks with you. His voice ain’t meant to be pretty, but it is striking, not because it’s loud or dramatic, but because it’s steady, raw, and real. Sounds exactly like someone who’s been through some things, didn’t break, and doesn’t need to explain why.
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Strengths
High Pain Tolerance. Pain doesn’t hit him like it does other people. He feels it, sure, but it’s more of an inconvenience than anything else. He’ll grit his teeth, shake it off, and keep moving like it didn’t happen. Might not even mention it unless it’s life-threatening, and even then, it’s more of a “by the way” than a cry for help. He grew into it, earned it, and now it’s just part of him.
Pattern Recognition. He notices things without trying. Doesn’t matter if it’s someone’s twitch when they lie or the way a trail looks different after a storm, his brain clocks it and files it. He might not always speak on it, but it’s there, quietly helping him figure things out before other people even know something’s off. Half the time it looks like instinct, but it’s just him paying attention when others don’t.
Spice Tolerance. He could eat fire and not flinch. Doesn’t even blink when the heat hits, just keeps chewing like it’s nothing. Some folks try to challenge him, thinking they’ll watch him squirm, they don’t. He doesn’t even gloat about it, just shrugs and says it’s not that bad, while everyone else is dying over a single bite. Kinda funny how something simple like that turns into legend.
Grip Strength. His hands are rough for a reason. You shake hands with him, you’ll feel it, solid, strong, like he could crush bone if he really wanted to. Comes from years of hard work, riding, pulling, lifting, doing things the old-fashioned way. It’s the kind of strength that doesn’t look like much until it’s holding something steady when everyone else lets go. He doesn’t flex it, but it’s there.
Self-Control. He doesn’t snap. Doesn’t yell, doesn’t throw stuff, doesn’t fall apart. You can push him, piss him off, even try to get a rise out of him, he’ll just stare you down, cold and unreadable, like a wall that won’t budge. There’s fire under the surface, but it’s locked up tight, only let out when he chooses. That control? It’s scary if you’re on the wrong end of it.
Stamina. He doesn’t burn out. Doesn’t matter how long the job is, how far the ride, how heavy the load, he just keeps going. Might stop for water, maybe a stretch, but he won’t quit until it’s done. It’s not about showing off or proving something. That’s just how he operates. Durable as hell, like someone built him for the long haul.
Weaknesses
Overthinks Everything. Cash’ll play a conversation back in his head a hundred times before letting it go, even if it didn’t mean anything. He catches little looks, small shifts in tone, and turns 'em over like puzzle pieces, trying to make sense of things that probably didn’t need all that energy. Sometimes he’s quiet not ‘cause he doesn’t care, but because he’s still stuck back at something you said two hours ago.
Won’t Ask For Help. He could be neck-deep in a problem and still tell you he’s fine. Doesn’t matter if he’s drowning, if it ain’t killing him, he’ll handle it alone. Asking for help just feels like weakness to him, even if he knows that’s not true. Pride’s a hell of a thing, and Cash carries his like it’s armor.
Sensitive to Cold. He’ll never say anything about it, but the cold gets to him bad. His hands go stiff, jaw clenches, movements start getting slower, tighter. Still won’t stop working, just means he’ll be miserable and quiet about it. You’ll only know if you’re really paying attention, and even then, don’t expect him to admit it.
Pushes Past Limits. He doesn’t know how to stop. Could be exhausted, limping, half-dead tired, he’ll still keep going like he’s got something to prove. It’s not even about pride most of the time, it’s just how he’s wired. Quit isn’t in his vocabulary, and rest feels too close to weakness.
Bottles Everything. If something’s bothering him, good luck getting it out. He doesn’t rant, doesn’t cry, doesn’t spill his guts he just locks it down and keeps walking. Every now and then, it slips through the cracks: a sharp tone, a colder look, silence that lasts a little too long. But most of the time? You’ll never know.
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Affiliations
TBA
Other
Cash’s main horse is a Rocky Mountain mare named Cimeron, Cim for short, pronounced Sim. She’s got a black coat with bright blonde hair that somehow matches Cash’s own messy blonde, like they’re a natural pair without even trying. Cim’s steady and calm, built to handle the long, rough days at Big Lake Ranch, and Cash trusts her without needing to say a word. His family has other horses under his name, but Cim’s the one he rides through thick and thin. Seeing them together out on the wide-open land, it’s like they’re cut from the same cloth, quiet, solid, and ready to face whatever the West throws at them.
𐚁𓇢𓆸𓄀˚☽˚.⋆
Spring Month: 1 
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