Noodles

LostlyWandering

Info


Created
5 years, 2 months ago
Creator
rookksan
Favorites
65

Profile


Disgusting.

BASICS

NAME Anathema
NICKNAME(S) Anth
AGE None
PRONOUNS They/It
GENDER None
ORIENTATION Ace/Aro
SPECIES Monster
OCCUPATION None
HOBBY None
THEME TBA

FUN FACTS

LIKES

  • Masks
  • Food
  • People
  • Monstrosity

DISLIKES

  • His eyes
  • Hugs
  • Intruders
  • Mice

TRIVIA

  • Anathema is often hungry and has to be fed often.
  • He's often never let outside.
  • He's 5'7 when standing, from toes to ear.
  • He cannot speak! Only growl, hiss and bark.

DESIGN NOTES

  • Hazel eyes!!!
  • Yeah his hair n turtleneck are the same color
  • He would never wear neons, dead or alive
  • Blood as okay with his design but less vibrAnt-

BACKSTORY

My Youth

My, the earliest memory I truly have is of my father. He look me to get ice cream, and I found I was allergic to peanuts when I woke up again. I was only four- I think. As I grew I knew I wasn't normal. Crushes weren't the most common for me. They weren't there for me, actually. I grew and began to talk to a boy, I never felt any romantic attraction but he was sweet enough to me. Maccoy Lennon. He died in a car crash amd my heart shattered. I needed him back.

The Machine

I couldn't bare being alone. I had a loving family, yes. But I fell in love, to my own extent, with Maccoy. He made me feel loved and appreciated. It hurt to not feel that anymore. I needed to bring him back, how? I took body parts from others. Cut out his brain and heart. And sewed it all together, it hadn't fully worked. It hadn't worked at all really. I began to research anything religious that could relate. Native Americans, Christians, anything for Maccoy to come back. It was- incredibly spiritual actually.

Failure

It failed.

RELATIONSHIPS

My son...

My son, made with my own flesh and blood. We have a strained relationship, I love him but he refuses to work with me or do anything I tell him to. I can't fully process why however. We share our refined love of science.

My hands

How beaten and bruised you are. Thank you, my hands.

That's all you are.