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only for me or asteria, and yeah. bye. |
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Alrighty Here we go..
✧ AURORA MAY MONROE ✧ " Auri " - " May May " A song that she favors : Yellow - Coldplay Age: 22
Height: 5’5 Occupation : Emergency Services (Ambulences) Vibe: Clean girl | Soft soul | Quiet comfort
Appearance Blonde hair — long, silky, usually worn down or twisted into a loose low bun.
Soft amber eyes that almost glow in warm light.
Dewy skin, natural makeup, subtle gloss. She has a naturally small waist and soft, small hips — a delicate frame that makes oversized clothes seem even bigger on her. Gold jewelry only — thin hoops, delicate layered necklaces, simple rings that catch the light when she moves. Usually wears tight tops with sweatpants — simple, effortless, comfortable.
When she’s overwhelmed? Full baggy. Oversized hoodie, sleeves covering her hands like armor. She smells like heliotrope flowers — warm, powdery, comforting.
The kind of scent you notice after she hugs you.
Personality Gentle, but not naive.
Soft-spoken.
Emotionally deep in ways most people don’t notice at first. Seeing animals hurt genuinely ruins her mood.
She’ll look away, swallow hard, pretend she’s fine — but it lingers. She keeps her voice calm even when she’s upset.
Loves quietly, but fully. She doesn’t create chaos.
She absorbs it. She feels things deeply — she just doesn’t always show it.
What She’s Never Been Able to Find She’s never found someone she could fully go to. Not halfway.
Not temporarily.
Fully. She’s never had— Arms that feel like home instead of tension.
A voice that softens when she’s overwhelmed.
Someone who notices when her smile is forced.
A person who stays when she shuts down instead of leaving.
A place to cry without feeling dramatic. She’s always been the comfort friend.
The understanding one.
The “it’s okay, I’m fine” girl. But no one ever asks if she’s fine twice. She’s never had someone who— Pulls her closer instead of getting frustrated.
Lets her sit in silence without demanding answers.
Holds her face gently and says, “Talk to me.”
Stays. |
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▀▄▀▄Monty Hackmore▄▀▄▀ "Hack" or "Hackmore" Goes by either ▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀ 23 DOB is April 22nd, 2002 POB is St. Louis, Missouri ▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀ Professional Motorcycle Racer Been in the system for two years now Finally making his way up to higher levels Has only crashed twice, and he walked out mostly unscathed. ▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀ Monty's personality is usually open to most people, yet his close friends and family are his first priority. Anxiety unfortounately decided to stick with him all throughout his life, leading him to working himself up even before races---yes, some have lead to panic attacks, yet they're rare. ▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀ He grew up in a middle class home, having always had an interest in watching cars and such race past his window as a kid at night, he realized that the ones which were alone were never racing, yet it didn't stop him from always finding it fascinating. Starting the sport at twenty, he started competing at twenty - one. ▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀ He has tanned skin from being on the circuit so often, with green eyes, and brown, short yet styled hair. He also has a scar running from the top of his forehead, across his eye, and across his top lip from yes, the most dissapointing story for an awesome scar--a rooster incounter as a kid. Usually he makes up some elaborate story since saying 'oh yeah, a chicken tore my face up' is more embarassing than saying 'I fought a mountain lion a couple years back' or something along those lines. Monty stands at 5'10", typically wearing some sort of outift along the lines of either a hoodie, t-shirt, or polo, and either sweats, shorts, or some sort of slacks. Typically he wears minimal jewelry, just a simple thin silver chain around his neck. His track suit is typically blue and black leather, with of course, all his team's sponsor patches sewed on. ▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀ One thing he doesn't talk about often is that his panic attacks can lead to him absolutely shutting down, perhaps a hand shaking, jaw tight, grinding his teeth, or gaze flickering everywhere are all signs. Best thing to do in that time is talk about something simple, such as the weather, or even about somebody's odd clothing to try to get him to laugh. ▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀ His music taste typically consists of rock,such as Theory of a Dead Man, Green Day, Nirvana especially, Seether, and many more. And please, do not be alarmed if you see on his Spotify he's playing 'I Hate Everything About You' it's nothing, just one of his favorite songs. Speaking of, Heart Shaped Box, and Remedy are two of his other favorites. Has been playing electric guitar since he was twelve, currently owns five of them, all stored in his house. In his freetime, you'll most likely catch him playing, or trying to get into running (it's been six months), oh yeah, and doing the occasional work out. Trust me, he's tried to like heading to the gym but, he finds it rather boring, and also, why do people just like to wreck themselves? Good question, he doesn't know the answer. |
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Aurora stepped through the sliding glass doors of the emergency services entrance just as the early morning sky blushed pink over the city. The air inside smelled faintly of antiseptic and coffee, radios crackling softly behind the front desk. She adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder, blonde hair falling neatly down her back as she clocked in, already hearing the distant wail of sirens approaching. Her posture straightened instinctively — calm, composed, ready. Another shift. Another set of lives that might depend on how steady her hands could stay. |
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MONTY, 7:50 AM VIVA CIRCUIT Monty Hackmore adjusted his headphones, turning the volume on his music down a smidge as he sat off to the side, watching as Leo worked on his bike. "Yeah, seems to be all set for today." The worker noted, standing and glancing over at Monty. He nodded, standing as well before thanking him, walking off to the side, attempting to swallow down the panic already growing. CALEB, 8:20 AM CIRCLE WEST HOSPITAL Caleb walked along the hallway, eventually finding Aurora, haivng been sent to remind her they'd need to leave around 11AM to Viva Circuit, as they didn't have enough first responders. And to be fair, not enough medical staff at a high speed motorbike race? Somebody was bound to crash. He leaned on the doorframe, knocking twice on it to gain her attention. "Hey, we better head out around 11, race starts at 12. I got put as captain of the team, shocker, I know. Once we get there, though, try and find the racers, figure out anything medical or mental about them. Anxiety, disorders...things like that, 'kay? Just makes it easier to deal with them and not freak 'em out even more if they crash." He explained, walking back out. |
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Aurora didn’t look up immediately when he knocked — she was finishing off a report, pen moving in neat, deliberate strokes — but the moment he spoke, her attention shifted fully to him. Calm blue eyes lifted, steady and unreadable as always, though there was the faintest flicker of amusement at his “captain” comment. “Captain, huh?” she murmured lightly, setting the pen down and closing the folder with quiet precision. “Try not to let it go to your head.” At the mention of the race, her posture straightened subtly. A high-speed motorbike event. Loud. Chaotic. Adrenaline-fueled. She could already picture the inevitable. “I’ll talk to them before it starts,” she nodded, already mentally organizing how she’d approach it — softer tone, less clinical language, keep it grounded. “Anxiety, prior injuries, medications, panic triggers. I’ll keep it low-key so they don’t feel like we’re expecting them to crash.” She stood, slipping her jacket on and grabbing her radio, movements smooth and efficient. “And Caleb?” she added just before he fully disappeared down the hall, voice calm but pointed. “If someone goes down at those speeds, I want full scene control before anyone swarms. No hero spectators.” There wasn’t fear in her tone — just quiet authority. “I’ll be ready before eleven.” |
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MONTY, 10:30AM 1 HOUR AND 30 MINS. BEFORE RACE START VIVA CIRCUIT He walked along the halls of the rider's lounge, walking to one of the fridges and grabbing a white Monster out of it, cracking open the can before taking a long, refreshing sip. The tempature had already rose to around 75°, leading to a cool, humid morning in Arizona. As the man strode down the halls, he started his pre-ride ritual. Simple, really - music, read something for a minute, text his parents, test his bike, and get in the correct mindset. Monty walked back over to his race 'den', the small building where all the team stayed, as well as where his bike was stored. He set the Monster down, putting his headphones back on as he clicked on Nirvana, playing a random assortment of the band's songs. Grabbing a microfiber towel, he started rubbing the fabric across any marks or dust, making the motorcycle look even cleaner than it already was. The soft click of a container opening sounded barely through the mute of his music, grabbing a black paint marker and starting to cover up all the scratches. |
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Sooner Rather then later,
Aurora and her team arrived. (currently at work) |
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Bright Sunshine with a few High Clouds
