MITCHELL, ryan joshua

[moo]

TWENTY SIX. LOCAL. PANSEXUAL. SHY. ADAM LAMBERT.
( RYAN JOSHUA MITCHELL )

I SEE YOUR EYES, YOU'RE BARELY SOBER.
I HEAR YOUR VOICE, YOU'RE CALLING OUT FROM ME TO YOU.
the character

Um... hello. I guess this is the part where I tell you about myself... there's not much to say about me. My extremely loud outward appearance would make one think my personality was just as in your face, but in reality, it's the exact opposite. I.. can barely talk to someone without turning completely red in the face. My shyness makes it nearly impossible for me to speak with anyone -- if I am indeed brave enough to talk to someone, it would most likely be stammered out to the point where what I was trying to say would be either inaudible or choked out. It might make me look like a fool, but as people have told me, my intelligence is actually much farther than what my speech implies. My mind just works so fast that I can't even really get words out quickly enough.

I despise anything that resembles conflict, which makes me a complete pushover. I would much rather walk away from an argument than actually confront someone. People call me chicken because of it, and I always agree... I was always fresh meat for bullies to pick on in high school, and based on how I would always shoulder the blame for the people I care about the most, I find myself being a scapegoat for the people I love.

If you happen to be lucky enough to break through my shell and bring my more fun side out more, I can be a very fun person to be around. If I'm around friends that I trust, I will slowly come out of myself and joke around. People tend to make jokes that are sexual in nature near me, knowing that I'll never understand what they're talking about... although, most of the time, I do know, I just hide my knowledge and act naive for their entertainment. However, this is an extremely rare thing to see if you haven't worked extremely hard at being gentle with me. I will only sink back into myself if you even jokingly make fun of me because my self esteem is so extremely low.

... I suppose I should start with my birth, how my mother thought I was some freak of nature. I... I guess I am. I'm a hermaphrodite, my... my mother never had enough money to get me the surgery I needed, and I still don't have enough coverage to fix my -- never mind. I hate talking about my past, it always makes me so nervous... kids would bully me in school constantly about my so called "secret," they'd pants me in the middle of the hallway and laugh at my genitalia. They never saw the rest of my body, though. I wouldn't give them more ammo.

My mother was paranoid schizophrenic. She didn't take care of herself, and certainly didn't take care of me. She hated me, I was the bane of her existence... and I'm still sorry that I was. There's no amount of apologizing I could ever give her that would make her hatred go away, though. She was convinced I was some devil child, and she just... snapped one day. She pushed me out the door, couple days before my fourth birthday in August, and she set my back on fire.

I laid in the grass in my backyard for twenty minutes, just... burning.

Finally, an elderly couple found me, and after I went to the hospital, they took me in as their own. That was when the teasing began in school. Bullies would crush me beneath their fingers, it seemed, and each time I found myself begging for forgiveness for things I never did wrong. High school came, and so did hormones. I was never kissed, never flirted with. I didn't care about that, though. Nobody would want to be with someone who couldn't even decipher themselves if they were a man or a woman. I'm still unsure most of the time.

SO SAY THAT YOU JUST WANT TO RUN AWAY.
AND REPLAY ALL THE THINGS THAT I TRIED TO SAY.
behind the character

hhey bitches, it's moo and i've been pimpin' these hoes for about 6.5 years. i know right, it's great isn't it? need to get a hold of me? hit me up by PM. i'm also in the central time zone just so you know. don't need to be telling you people twice. also meet the rest of my lovely babies, nada mas!

After the Lucifer fiasco, Ryan hadn't really slept much. His mind had been whirring from the start of it all, fretting and worrying about everything, from Ky to Luc to Ollie to Juliet ... everything seemed to be occurring at once. Maybe that was how this town worked, everything happened at once and then there was a giant lull in things to worry about... God, he hoped so, he knew he was prone to ulcers. In fact, at that very moment, he was quite pale and wincing a little, clutching at his stomach and staring with venom at his cup of coffee. He couldn't even drink the damn thing without throwing it back up later. Fuck... "Nnngh..." he groaned under his breath, doubling over for a moment before letting himself rise again. It felt like his stomach was burning... burning... his eyes dilated for a moment, the fear of God being put into him for a split second at the very mention. Burning on the outside was probably nothing compared to burning on the inside...

Christmas, a time for fire, stove lights and matches, candles everywhere... the worst time of year for a pyrophobe. He tried his best to usually ignore it, but sometimes it didn't work out. Sometimes, he'd go into a lapse, his mother would be standing above him, laughing in his face, "Devil child! Burn it out!" ... Ryan suddenly scrambled, taking a few glugs of his coffee, barely feeling the scalding liquid slide down his throat. Anything to get him from being trapped in that perpetual nightmare. His mind drifted to the present again, his burn scars that littered his back tingling as a violent memory of what he was. He sighed a bit, running a hand through his hair. His stomach cramped up again, and his mind went back to the hospital... Ollie... he was the one that worried Ryan the most. He needed to understand that cutting wasn't the answer to whatever he was trying to deal with... panic set in once again at the notion of him lying dead in the hospital, and Ryan had done nothing to stop him... His eyes widened and he took another sip of his drink, his stomach screaming as the ulcers began to set in. "D-damnit..." he whispered, his eyes filling. He needed a sign, something, anything to let him know that everyone, Luc and Alecia and Ky and Juliet and Ollie... he didn't even really know them. He didn't care, either. He just wanted to know they were okay.