Wyatt

Wyatt's main place of work is at RJ's shop, a small business owned Clyde Johnson, the grandson of the famous RJ. Clyde has carried on the family tradition of being a place of second-chances. A lot of ex-cons and clean and sober types make a living here. They build custom motorcycles as well as handle repairs and towing. The door to the small lobby out front reads, "Since 1974" and there are often an array of motorcycles out front either owned by the people who work there or the regulars that often come by the shop. He works here Monday through Friday, 10am - 6:30pm.



Wyatt works at a small diner in on the shabbier side of the city known for being a bit of a slum. Pop's Diner is a traditional greasy spoon known for cheap breakfasts and an oldschool atmosphere. The place is usually pretty busy through the week. Wyatt is one of the short-order cooks, generally working a few week-nights here and there to supplement his income.



Exterior
Sundown Meadow's Mobile Home park has been a staple on the west side for years. It sits on the poor side of town just a few streets down from Pop's Diner but the area isn't the worst. Commonly lower income families live in the area dotted with old apartment buildings that surround the little park.


Wyatt lives on Sherman Lane in a small two-bedroom he's been renting for a short while now. The exterior is white and blue, and while it could use a little tlc, there are far worse places one could live. It has a small open yard with an uncovered spot for him to park his vehicles normally occupied by either truck or motorcycle. A red wagon and a plastic turtle-shaped sandbox sit off to the back-side of the home.

Interior
Through a creaking screendoor is the living room of the aging mobile home with a dingy brown carpet carrying ancient stains from past tenants. It's furnished in Goodwill finds, an old couch upholstered in red and green Southwestern designs, a small coffee table, a burnt orange reclining chair and a small entertainment stand with a 32 in television still carrying the sticker from the pawn shop he retrieved it from. Very little decorates the walls beyond a couple recent photos of Owen and a large, framed poster of a white, 1967 Harley Davidson Shovelhead.


After a rather standard looking kitchen with gaudy old-fashioned wallpaper and a cluttered dinner table with two chairs, is a long hall. The first door down it on the left-hand side, is Wyatt's bedroom which is situated next to the bathroom. Wyatt's bedroom is at the end of the hall, his door bridged on either side by the bathroom door and the back door.


Wyatt's bedroom isn't anything to write home about. As small and cramped as the rest of the trailer, most of it is taken up by a full-sized mattress supported on a cheap bed-frame. The bed is often haphazardly made covered in mismatched sheets and a small blue throw-blanket. He has one pillow with a maroon cover. In the corner by the small closet is a short dresser with an old tube television with a built in vhs player sitting on it, a relic from some twenty five years ago.


If there is one room in Wyatt's humble home that has any level of real thought put into it, it's Owen's bedroom. It's small but tidy with a small twin bed. The curtains and bedspread are a matching set and there are posters on the walls of various superheroes. A bright yellow, plastic, toy chest peaks out from beneath the bed. As modest as it is, its easily the least used yet nicest part of the trailer-home.


Sparse and rather plain but clean, the little bathroom isn't much to look at. Two mismatched rugs take up most of the floor and a red and black shower curtain hangs off the rod above the tub. Hooks on the back of the door hold a plethora of towels that could probably use a good wash.


Wyatt owns a 1995 dark blue Chevy S10 with a camper shell. There is some fading in the paint around the front end and some rust damage around the wheel wells and bed of the truck. The interior is a little messy with bottles, receipts and empty cigarette packs often scattered on the passenger side's floor. The passenger seat is often cluttered with random belongings like jackets, hats, books, mail and so on. A pair of orange fuzzy dice hang from the mirror along with a few strands of purple and green Mardi Gras beads.


Still something of a project, a 1982 Harley-Davidson XL Sportster bought cheap off one of RJ's clients can be found either at the garage or in Wyatt's driveway. The bike runs, barely, and has trouble starting but most of the wear on it is cosmetic with some rust damage here and there.



A young mutt of undetermined breed though one would suspect perhaps German shepherd and maybe Shiba Inu just looking at her. Rowdy is a rescue that Wyatt brought home a short while back. The dog is young and excitable but good with people. Her tendency to jump on visitors and bark incessantly is something Wyatt has been working on but that doesn't seem to have appeased the neighbors yet as they often complain about the noise.

.

---

*Owen Mason

Bud / Buddy | Long-Lost Son / Everything | Trust ★★★★★ Loyalty ★★★★★ Affection ★★★★★ Stuff about his budding relationship with his son... will work this out soon maybe... under construction. Getting a feel for just how much can fit here to fill this space and all that jazz. "Blahblahblah"

---

Emma Mason

Em, M'n'M | Ex-Wife / Mother Of His Child | Trust ★★☆☆☆ Loyalty ★★☆☆☆ Affection ★★★☆☆ Emma and Wyatt have had a turbulent history. Both have done things to destroy any possibility of a functional relationship but Wyatt does his best to mind his manners for Owen's sake. "If it wasn't for Owen, I'd have written you out of my life for good..."

---

*Natalie Ward

Nat | Estranged Mother | Trust ★★☆☆☆ Loyalty ★★★☆☆ Affection ★★★☆☆ Stuff about their absolutely dysfunctional relationship with each other... will be written soon... I maybe promise >>; "Blahblahblah"

---

*Angela Barns

Ang, Angie | Previous Guardian | Trust ★★★★☆ Loyalty ★★★★☆ Affection ★★★★☆ Stuff about their really really good relationship with each other... will be written soon... I maybe promise >>; "Blahblahblah"