Full Name
Aaron Bryce Smith
Nicknames
Doc
Gender
Male
Pronouns
He/Him
Sexuality
(Closeted) Bisexual
Age
26
Personality
Aaron is a rugged, no-nonsense type of man who exudes the quiet authority of someone who has lived through both triumph and hardship. He carries an air of wisdom and experience, though it’s often masked by his gruff demeanor and sharp tongue. He’s a man who’s seen it all—the glory of standing at the top of his game, the sting of failure, and the aching loneliness that comes when the cheers fade and the dust settles.
Once a high-class bull and bronco rider who could command a crowd’s attention with just his presence, Aaron now keeps his glory days locked away, hidden behind an almost impenetrable wall of sarcasm and stoicism. He doesn’t talk much about the accident that left him paralyzed from the waist down, and when someone pries too much, they’re usually met with a cold glare or a biting remark. It’s not that Aaron is mean-spirited—he’s just fiercely protective of his pain, preferring to shoulder it alone rather than burden others with it.
Aaron doesn't bother hiding his grim outlook on life, one he wrestles with daily. To him, losing his ability to ride wasn’t just the end of his career—it was the end of his purpose. The thrill of the arena, the connection with the animals, and the freedom he felt on the back of a bronco were everything to him, and without them, he feels like a shadow of the man he used to be. He often wonders what the point of it all is if he can’t do the one thing he loved most. This despair eats away at him, leaving him distant and irritable, even around those who care about him.
Aaron isn’t a natural mentor, and he doesn’t pretend to be. His approach is anything but gentle—he’s rough, short-tempered, and unafraid to bark out harsh criticism when his students make mistakes. His voice can cut like a whip, and his blunt words often leave those he’s teaching feeling inadequate. But beneath the tough exterior, his anger stems from a deep-seated fear—fear that they’ll get hurt, that they won’t respect the dangers of the rodeo, or that they’ll squander their potential. His harshness, in its own twisted way, is born of love, though he’d never admit it aloud.
For Aaron, life has become a battle against his own bitterness and frustration. He avoids sentimentality, scoffing at the idea of hope or second chances, but there are cracks in his armor. On rare occasions, when no one’s looking, the softer side of him emerges—a quiet sigh as he watches a sunset, or a fleeting moment of pride when a student finally gets something right. Those glimpses are fleeting, buried under his layers of grumpiness, but they’re there. Aaron may act like he’s given up, but deep down, there’s a part of him that still wants to believe he can matter, even if it’s not in the way he once dreamed.
Appearance
Aaron has short, no-nonsense brown hair that’s always neatly trimmed, though it’s beginning to show flecks of gray at the temples—a reminder of the time that’s passed since his accident. His face is defined by sharp angles and a strong jaw, though the faint lines etched around his eyes and mouth betray a man who has spent many sleepless nights wrestling with his thoughts. His eyes are a piercing shade of green, keen and observant, though their sharpness is often shadowed by a grim, brooding expression that makes him seem unapproachable at first glance.
Aaron’s skin is sun-kissed from years spent under the open sky, though his complexion has paled slightly since the accident kept him from the outdoor life he once cherished. His arms, however, remain strong and muscular, a testament to the sheer determination with which he’s adapted to his wheelchair. The calluses on his hands tell of the effort he’s poured into regaining his independence, whether it’s rolling himself across uneven terrain or working on repairs in the barn.
He tends to wear practical clothing—rugged denim jeans or work pants altered to fit his new needs, paired with flannel shirts or worn-out T-shirts that cling to his broad chest and shoulders. A weathered cowboy hat often rests on the back of his chair, a symbol of the life he refuses to fully let go of. His boots, though now more symbolic than functional, are always polished even though they dont really get much use anymore.
Aaron’s build speaks to the years he spent wrestling broncos and going head-to-head with bulls in the arena. His upper body is broad and muscular, his shoulders wide and strong from the countless hours he’s poured into adapting to life in a wheelchair. His biceps and forearms are particularly well-defined, a product of the physical demands of pushing himself across uneven terrain and tackling the day-to-day tasks on his ranch. Veins snake across his forearms, a stark reminder of the strength he’s worked tirelessly to maintain even after his accident.
His chest, while still broad and sturdy, carries a subtle softness now that his legs no longer share the burden of physical exertion. There’s a visible shift in his physique from the days when he was an all-around powerhouse, but his core remains firm from the balance and control needed to navigate his chair. His hands, thick and calloused, bear the marks of a life spent working hard—both before and after the accident. They’re the hands of a man who hasn’t stopped fighting, even if he no longer believes in the dream he once chased.
Aaron’s lower body, in contrast, tells a different story. His legs, though still long and strong in appearance, have lost much of their muscle tone. They rest motionless in his chair, a silent reminder of the accident that forever changed his life. He keeps them covered in well-fitted jeans or work pants, maintaining his rugged cowboy style even though they no longer carry him. His boots, always carefully placed, complete the image of a man who refuses to let his injury erase who he was. Even in his stillness, there’s a quiet dignity to the way Aaron holds himself—a testament to the strength he carries, both physical and emotional.
Beneath Aaron’s rugged exterior lies the physical evidence of the accident that changed his life forever—a jagged scar that runs down his lower back, stark against his tanned skin. The scar, a deep, uneven line, starts just below his ribcage and trails down past his waist, disappearing beneath his jeans. It’s the result of the devastating spinal injury he sustained in the arena, a grim reminder of the day his life took a sharp turn. The skin around it is slightly raised and discolored, a vivid contrast to the rest of his body. Though he rarely speaks about it, the scar is a constant presence, a mark he feels even when he can’t feel anything else below it.
Aaron’s wheelchair is as no-nonsense as he is—a sturdy, custom model designed to handle the uneven ground of his ranch. It’s not flashy, but it’s well-maintained and practical, much like everything else about him. The chair has scuff marks and scratches, evidence of his stubborn refusal to let obstacles stand in his way.
Voice & Accent
Lucas Till
Eastern KY / Georgia
Strengths
Resilience – Despite his grim outlook, Aaron has an inner strength that keeps him going, even when he feels like giving up. His ability to adapt to life in a wheelchair and continue working on his ranch shows a level of determination and grit that others admire.
Sharp Mind – Years of bull and bronco riding have made Aaron quick-thinking and strategic. He’s able to assess situations with a level of insight and precision that makes him a natural problem solver, even if he’s reluctant to step into a leadership role.
Loyalty – While he may be rough around the edges, Aaron cares deeply for those he’s close to, even if he struggles to express it. His protective instincts and fierce loyalty make him someone people can count on, especially when the chips are down.
Weaknesses
Short Temper – Aaron’s frustration with his situation and his stubborn nature often lead to quick flashes of anger. He can be harsh and overly critical, especially when teaching or trying to communicate under stress.
Isolation – His reluctance to let others in and his grim outlook on life have left Aaron emotionally distant. He struggles to accept help or open up, which creates barriers in his relationships.
Self-Destructive Mindset – Aaron often falls into a cycle of self-doubt and negativity, believing his life lost its purpose after his accident. This mindset not only hinders his growth but also impacts the way he interacts with others, sometimes pushing them away unintentionally.
Backstory
TBA
Fears/Phobias
Bovinophobia - Fear of Cows, caused by the accident
Equinophobia - Fear of Horses, caused by the accident and not severe
Nosocomephobia - Fear of Hospitals
Trypanophobia - Fear of Needles
Favourite Quote
"Life's tough, but it's tougher when you're stupid." - John Wayne
Theme Song(s)
TBA
Affiliations
TBA
Other
TBA
Winter Month: 2 
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