why'd you ever make me choose? i don't wanna be like you, i thought i knew you, but i never knew you would turn us into animals. i don't wanna be like you. realized i'm living in hell when i was given the news. why'd you let the evil win? how'd you let 'em sell it to you? i remember growing up, mama used to sing me the blues, and now the kids are making noise just because it's something to do.

18+, mature content ╱ multiverse and multiship. charlie simmons, a riverdale partly fandomless portrayal, this account contains heavily triggering themes and sensitive content. including forms of abuse and substance use / addiction, violence, gang related activity, mentions of blood and so on. if you're uncomfortable with heavy themes proceed with caution. as penned by pines !

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miscellaneous !

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note; this verse is primarily an au of a character based in the riverdale verse, and so i don't have an entire backstory written for him for this verse. it's built on his original backstory. you may find things to make more sense if you read that first, trigger warnings apply.to those who haven't watched riverdale i will give a little rundown of some things to make sense of for the backstory. when i refer to the southside it refers to the 'bad' / less fortunate side of riverdale, there's a lot of crime and a lot of people struggle. the ghoulies refers to one of the two gangs on the southside, the serpents are the other, the ghoulies are the more rough of the two and are often stationed as the antagonists against the serpents who one of the main characters leads at one point. or as the antagonists against all of riverdale. they are basically the center of the entire drug trade of riverdale, and a lot of other illegal business. they have a lot of punk imagery while the serpents are presented more as a biker gang. the mayflower family is not real in the show, however the church in riverdale has been behind or involved in a lot of shady business. such as the sisters of quiet mercy. a home for troubled youth and parentless children. they are seen to drug the kids who stay there, use methods to instill terror into the kids there and are highly abusive, they also do brutal conversion therapy. although the mayflower family do not run this they are involved in it, often sending pastors to visit and speak to the children. although the town is not they are very aware of what's happening there. the house of the dead refers to the ghoulies 'home base', some ghoulies live there and others don't but it is where many parties are and where they all meet. even if someone does not live there they are very likely to be there very often.

[ about sketch ], [ powers ] , [ stats ]

about sketch

as people who end up in his situation often do sketch grew up in a rough environment filled with a lot of criminal activity, he was born in gotham. crime is all he had ever known, his mother is an addict who didn't care much for him as much as he tries to convince himself she loves him, and he doesn't know who his father is. he started out as a kid with small forms of misconduct such as graffiti. often sneaking into places he wasn't supposed to be to do it, late at night. his mother never really cared where he was or when he was there, so he didn't need to sneak out.when he was nine he came home to the scene of his mother being threatened by various intimidating figures that are part of a drug cartel, an intimidating gang primarily ran by one family in gotham. he ends up saying he'll work for them to pay off his mothers drug debts. his mother ends up telling them of his powers while he's not there, because she thinks it may be useful for them. she also tells them she's pretty sure he used to go invisible, she remembered seeing it once, but she says he doesn't know. since he shows no signs of it they don't believe it. he can get in nearly anywhere with them, after all. at twelve after a particularly tense smuggling experience with them he ends up becoming an official member. he doesn't enjoy it, but he doesn't have much of a choice.he works for the for several years, but around fifteen there's trouble in the gang as their leaders get busted and sent to jail. with what's left the gang collapses, and his time with them is over. though the thought looms that they may come back, and he knows they will see his commitment to them as for life. in his time with the gang he's met several of the more well known villains of gotham, either in the clubs the gang owned or during business the gang has with them. when the gang absolves he thinks he's done with it all, and he's trying to find a new way to get money to pay for his mothers apartment and make sure she doesn't end up hurt because she doesn't pay back her debt. then one of said villains show up at his door, they wanted his help breaking into a high security facility - he doesn't want to do it, not because he really cares about the law but because it seems dangerous and he's scared some super hero will swoop in and kill him when he's only doing what he has to. but he ends up agreeing, he needs the money.this becomes something of a habit, people refer to him as sketch and although most people know nothing else about him and they don't know his face they know he can get in anywhere. he ends up doing many jobs like this, some try to give him more of a proper alias but he always tells them to just call him sketch, he's not interested in that. he eventually gets a reputation, and he earns decently doing the work he does.

powers

phasing
when sketch was a kid he learnt that he was capable of 'phasing', it lets him make his body or parts of his body not physically solid in the sense that they can move ( phase ) through objects or people or really anything. it is something that often triggers unconsciously when he gets startled or from unexpected touch. being a kid in the household he grew up in it developed as a defence mechanism. it didn't always help or always let him escape from the abuse though, far from it. in part because he was often told things that scared into making himself stop or screamed at to do so till he did.invisibility
although he isn't aware of this power he can go invisible in moments of intense stress / fear. he used to as a child, but considering the situations he was in and that he can see his own body even when he is he didn't realise. it usually happened while he was already hiding and so he simply believed he wasn't found. he may gain control over this power / realise during later storylines or development. he may also do it as an adult without realising.x-ray vision
seeing through things has been something sketch has also been able to do his entire life. he is usually very capable of controlling it now, but as a child he wasn't always. he often found the power scary when he was little, since he could look at people and see their skeleton without meaning to. or see organs and other things he found scary as a child. he has a habit as an adult to often look down at the floor instead of at people due to this that he doesn't really think of. due to this power he also has great technical understanding of many things since he was capable of seeing the parts inside of them and how they worked. such as technology or all sorts of machines. it helps him break in places, so he doesn't always need to use phasing everywhere. or he uses that to get in and further knowledge in tech to unlock everything for whoever might have hired him to get in as he sometimes does jobs for various vilains.

stats

stats
full name charlie simmons / charlie mayfloweralias(s) : sketchage : 21 / 22 usually.languages spoken : english, korean, spanishpronouns : he / himheight : 5´7"hair colour : blackeye colour : dark brownscars, tattoo (s) :
- multiple scars from his childhood and his mothers ex boyfriends. mostly on his arms but some on his shoulders or other places.
- some scars on his knees from scraped knees.appearance : sketch has kinda messy / fluffy hair, he likes it that way. he wears a lot of black and worn clothes from thrift stores, a lot of hoodies too, he's nearly always covered in paint on his hands. and is decently scrawny. he usually wears a lot of layers of clothes he hides himself in since he's not very comfortable without it. he looks very unassuming and unthreatening in general.

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backstory !

note; there are triggering themes and sensitive content within sketch's backstory. please proceed with caution and be mindful of that.

the blue lights of the hospital were bright enough to blind someone; or at least adeline felt as if they were in the moments she was giving birth, painful like nothing else she had ever experienced. she didn’t want a child, she especially didn’t want this child. the pain wasn’t worth it, but despite her best attempts she hadn’t been able to end this pregnancy. it was too late for an abortion by the time she found out, and those times she threw herself down the stairs of a nearby apartment complex hadn’t helped her. nor did anything else. the cries of her first born baby boy didn’t arise any care in her, nor did the sight of him cause any warmth in chest, it only gave her a headache. screaming at him to shut up despite the fact he had no chance to be able to understand the words she said; screaming at the nurse to get him the fuck out too, because she didn’t want to hear all that crying, and despite meek attempts of saying that holding him may help she didn’t care to hear it.the nurse, daisy, was still young, pulled away by the midwife still gripping the baby in her arms. it was lucky, or unlucky, riverdale hospital wasn’t very busy so for the rest of the night she could sit there. holding him in her arms, cooing at him and feeding him with a bottle after his mother made it clear she had no intent to feed him herself. just as she had no intent on giving him a name herself, every inquiry left with a request to leave her be. in her own time the nurse began calling him charlie, little charlie like she always wanted to name her own child if she could have had one. by the time adeline was leaving the hospital she had asked one last time about the baby’s name, only to get a ‘haven’t you been calling him charlie or something? just write it down’ brushing her off.and she had, staring at her as she got into someone’s car and drove away. it wasn’t till she got home she realised the car was the same as the one that always stood outside her neighbours house, she lived on the southside; having moved there when she got her job at the hospital in riverdale, it wasn’t her home town. although she knew she shouldn’t she’d sneak over and give charlie a bottle whenever she saw his mother left him out on the porch. he was such a small baby, it concerned her. and they always seemed to be screaming inside. sometimes she’d change him too, take care of him however she could without being noticed.it seemed like the man living in the house at least did the bare minimum sometimes, even if he clearly wasn’t very happy about it. he was part of one of the two gangs on the southside, a ghoulie. mostly daisy stayed out of it, it didn’t seem a good plan to get involved. one winter charlie had been left outside once more — his lips were blue when she came back from work. and despite knocking no-one came to the door, and in her panic daisy took him into her own home. heating him up and wrapping him in blankets. daisy had called social services, just as she had many times before, but no-one cared to show up. it took four days before adeline showed back up, it didn’t seem she was too concerned with the loss of the baby she had left on her porch, only scoffing and telling daisy she needed to mind her own business when she had to give charlie back again. the man living with her seemed to be bothered to have him back more than anything, but she knew she couldn’t keep him; he wasn’t her baby. she could be arrested for kidnapping. in that moment she almost regretted not risking it and keeping him despite the law.as charlie grew older it seemed he was left outside a lot, often sat on the porch picking at the grass and drawing on his arms. sometimes daisy would invite him over for dinner, concerned about how thin he was. it was clear he wasn’t getting fed much at home. it was partly concerning how he always said yes and seemed to have no thought of stranger danger, and how when he fell asleep on her couch no-one came looking for him. it kept going like that for a while, sketch was three and a half one of these many times. he had slept on her couch and his mom spotted him in the window, maybe she just had a bad day because the second she saw him she began banging on the door. screaming to open it the fuck up and calling daisy a condescending bitch.it wasn’t the first time sketch had heard language like that. sat there as his mom barged in and grabbed the nurse and begun screaming profanities at her until she dragged her outside by the hair. people gathering by their windows and watching as she slapped her across the face and tried to start a fight. not seeming to care if she returned them when she began throwing punches eitherwat. it wasn’t that she particularly cared about charlie being away, more so that she was mad she dared to ‘imply’ that she somehow needed the help. what charlie remembered best was when he walked outside and daisy was left crying on the dirt ground, bleeding from her nose rolled up into a ball there. and his mom had picked him up for the first time in long, she had held on to him and went inside. even if she gripped him so tight it hurt he was ecstatic she even held him at all, so much so that he couldn’t stop himself from smiling. clinging on to his mother in her arms and telling her he loved him even if she didn’t care to respond... he had tried to sleep besides her that night, but she had pushed him out of bed— and so he slept on the floor nearby; gazing up at his mother with big loving eyes.daisy had to move away, and he never saw her again. she didn’t even dare to look at him anymore after the state his mother left her in, when he tried to ask his mom she didn’t really care to give a response as to why it all had happened. eventually he asked if she was looking out for him, because he’d heard that was a mothers job, and adeline said yes just to get him off her back. charlie was happy. his mother never payed much attention to him, every moment he tried to get close to him she’d push him away. but he wanted nothings more than her love, so he still tried, certain that eventually she’d want to cuddle him and hold him — if he was just good enough she’d want him. he did his best to be, and every-time his mom stumbled through the door he’d sit with her. brush her hair carefully and tell her he loved her like he saw people do on the television, even if no-one told him that. he was always so excited for whenever his mom would tell him so too; though he supposed it’d just take a while. and he could be patient. he’d earn it.there were often people who came to their home. usually giving his mother bottles of pills he didn’t know what was for, or small vials or packages of something, she was always so happy to get them he assumed it was important. he hoped she’d be that happy looking at him someday. his mother often had parties at home, scary tall men would come that made sketch uncomfortable, one was around more often than the others. a man in a jacket with a skull on the back of it he knew even back then represented the ghoulies and a tattoo on the back of his neck, he always seemed to stare at charlie though he didn’t acknowledge him much beyond that he’d always been over a lot. it made in uneasy with the way he looked at him. sometimes the man would argue with his mom, and he’d mention ‘the kid’ but he never managed to understand exactly what he was talking about. he couldn’t remember what else he had said later in his life since he didn’t quite understand it, though be knew it had been important. one day when he was four he had come over as he had many times before telling his mother he was done with ‘all this shit’, laying a stack of money on the counter, not looking back to the much younger charlie stood in the kitchen watching him, he didn’t come back again. for a while his mother had been very angry, she had screamed — broken glasses. thrown things at the walls. it made him sad she was so upset, even as he crawled under his bed and hid his head to attempt to stay safe from her. he did so nearly anytime she got mad, even if she wasn’t directly mad at him he’d get hurt from just being in the wrong spot, getting hit by glass shards or whatever else. when she eventually passed out he’s climb out from under the bed and do his best to clean up after her. pick up the glass from the floor so she wouldn’t get hurt, putting a blanket over her body. eventually she calmed down, at least about that; things were back to normal, even if normal wasn’t good.on charlie’s fifth birthday he woke up to arguing in the living room — he knew it was his birthday because he had been told so by one of his neighbours, they said it was a special day. so he was excited for what would happened, climbing out of his bed and going to the living room where there was stood a man who looked much like his mother. he was dressed neat, and had a cross around his neck. clearly not very happy with his mother at all, charlie didn’t really understand why, he just asked if he was there for his birthday; he wasn’t. and so he asked who he was, his mother had locked herself in her room because she didn’t want to deal with this. the man told him he was pastor thomas mayflower, which charlie thought pastor was a weird name but he didn’t want to be mean and say so. rather focused on the name mayflower, because that was his name too. pastor mayflower wasn’t mean to him — rather he just seemed deeply concerned with the situation. sometimes his mother would talk about her family, but before then charlie had never met them. they had shunned her years before he was even born, she was a shame to the family name in their eyes — by extension as was charlie, maybe even more so. the mayflower family owned the church of riverdale, their reputation was an important thing to them. now that he was starting school they couldn’t have that besmirched by having their last name attached to him, his mother had changed her last name already. long since pressured to do so. the records and id’s she had had just been old when charlie was born, and he ended up with his families name they thought he never should have had. it wasn’t his right, and he was something to be removed.thomas explained to him they’d need to go visit the courthouse a bit, because it was important, and since he was so big now and he’d be starting school soon they needed him to use something different. despite many things charlie had always liked his last name, he thought mayflower sounded pretty, and he’d asked why — said he didn’t want to. there had been a frown on thomas’ face when he said that, he didn’t get angry, struggling to come up with something he could say to him that wouldn’t hurt a boy so young when it was already so inherently hurtful. despite not wanting to charlie came with him, thomas had gotten his birth certificate from his mother along with everything he needed to do this with or without her agreeing to cooperate. with their political power legality didn’t really matter, and his name was changed with a small check of hush money not to speak about it every again there at the courthouse and to deal with all the papers. when he was being driven home charlie asked him if he needed to change his name because he was bad, and they didn’t like him. thomas didn’t answer, he just pushed his eyebrows together and looked away the way adults did when they didn’t want to answer his questions. so he knew he was, and that they didn’t. he didn’t like special days like this.as he started school and grew older he was free to do nearly whatever he wanted — he stayed out later than other kids, went places they weren’t allowed. didn’t have rules about what he ate or did as long as he didn’t annoy his mother, charlie though that meant she was cool — and that she was nice. letting him do whatever, but she just didn’t care about him or what happened to him. for his age he was always a small kid, particularly thin, it made sense with his diet. left to decide what he had himself, usually he ate uncooked noodles and macaroni or ice-cream for dinner — never as much as he should, not that it would have mattered either-way, it wasn’t nutritional. he didn’t really know what made a good meal, or how much he should have. he just knew to eat till his stomach stopped hurting whenever it did, and enough he didn’t end up feeling dizzy too often. he took up tagging early on, all his life he’d loved drawing it had earned him the nickname sketch when he was little — so little he hardly remembered getting it — he loved graffiti more than anything though. climbing up buildings and leaving whatever he made there, he’d started with finding abandoned spray bottles littered around the southside, it seemed to be his calling. graffiti became a comfort, art always had been, he didn’t really have friends in school — many of the other kids tended to tease him. he didn’t really know what he was doing wrong to make them dislike him, but they just did. sometimes as be got older he got beaten up at school too, but most of all they bullied verbally.one day when he was nine he came home from school to see his living room filled with the same sort of people that always seemed to come over; two tall men and a woman, all ghoulies, they were arguing with his mother. saying that they couldn’t let her keep not paying up, that ‘he’ had left a long time ago and their goodwill was up. it was about drugs, of course. money she owed she wasn’t paying back. he wasn’t sure who the ‘he’ they were talking about was, but he knew better than to ask. it never was a good idea, although he lingered in the kitchen while they were in the living room. anxious with the argument, and scared they may hurt his mother. though she seemed more pissed she wasn’t getting her fix than anything, she didn’t even really seem to notice he had come home — not that she tended to acknowledge him often, he’d grown used to it. so much so it made his heart raze whenever she even as much as looked at him, or exchanged a few words. it made him so happy.but now his mom was in the living room, yelling about this, he was sure she was partly reacting so strongly because one of her recent boyfriends had left. and she was upset, charlie was ashamed to say he was happy he was gone. none of her boyfriends ever treated him well. usually they were drunks, addicts, and rough, mean to him. some claimed they needed to do so to make him a man — that he was too soft. some didn’t even bother to make up an excuse for the things they did. even if they beat him or thew bottles his way or whatever else they thought best to punish his apparent wrongdoing. whether that was just existing or something he actually did. it didn’t really make a difference, and he didn’t want to tell his mother since they made her happy. they never did the things they did to him to her, maybe he was just a better victim. he wouldn’t fight back. it was impossible she didn’t know, but charlie had long since convinced himself she loved him and wanted what was best for him despite there being no signs it was true, it wasn’t hard to ignore this too and pretend she wasn’t aware. he thought maybe the moments she didn’t complain when he sat down besides her to watch her movies or he could just sat with her meant something to her, they meant a lot to him after all.

the situation in the living room only turned worse as he watched, the woman grabbed his mom by the throat, a knife pulled out and pressed against her cheek — charlie had tried to move forwards to defend his mother but one of the men took hold of him before he ever had the chance, soon exclaiming; “no! don’t hurt her!” and the woman had laughed, pushing his mother to the floor leaving a cut on her cheek as she turned towards charlie, trying to struggle out of the arms of the man who held on to him. he didn’t have much of an issue stopping him from getting anywhere, though he still tried. “oh and what are you going to do about it if i do kid? your mom needs to learn to pay for her shit. gotta make good on her debt, maybe we can cut off some of those little fingers of hers and she’ll learn?” the thought terrified him, still struggling in the grip of the man, only to feel something sharp point against his back he knew was a knife even if he didn't see it, that managed to make him still. “.. don’t .. don’t hurt her, please .. i can do something, anything to pay back what she owes .. just don’t hurt her. i — i’m .. i can do it.” his breath shook as he spoke, looking over at his mother on the floor, she was leaning her back against the couch holding on to her throat. the woman looked back at his mother in that moment, almost seeming amused by his offer, or of the situation. “and you’re okay with this mom?” the tone she spoke with was mocking, but his mother looked down at the floor, and she nodded. “.. he can go. he’ll work hard.” she stated, not seeming in the slightest worried for her son. the woman laughed, or crackled rather. “hah — you’re a really shit mom, you know? but you, kid, i bet you can do some real good for us. i’m camila, but friends call me cammie, aint that nice? now what’s your name?” he wanted to defend his mom, frowning at the claim she was a bad mother — she couldn’t help it, he told himself. she was doing her best. but he knew now wasn’t the time, the grip of him let go. “.. charlie .. but .. people usually call me sketch .. i don’t really have many friends though ..” camila smiled, charlie’s eyes turning to his mother once more, her hand was on her cheek now. “well, i bet we’re gonna be real good friends, huh? so ya don’t have to worry.” he didn’t argue about that, even if he didn’t imagine they would be.

despite his first impression camila turned out to be nicer than many people he had met. he began doing all sorts of jobs for her, usually drug related. she’d send him to make deliveries often, dealing, she send him through areas others might have been pat down or questioned but he wasn’t since he was still a kid. he’d help with extra jobs no-one wanted, like destroying burner phones or those sorts of things, whatever she asked. in that time camila began teaching him spanish, he already knew some, but she said it’d be useful working with the ghoulies. the martinez family who ran them were spanish speakers, as were many members. he began picking up on it pretty quickly. he’d learnt korean from his mother, she often switched between that and english throughout his life. though he was more confident in his english, often missing words or phrases in korean. spanish he became talented in quickly though, even eventually becoming fluent, he spent so much time with camila she didn’t exactly lack the time to teach. she’d pick him up from school most days to do whatever work she needed, often she’d stay nearby when he did whatever she tasked him with. he hated to admit he liked her when she’d been so mean to his mom, and said she was a bad mother, he didn’t think she was. she did her best, he kept telling himself that.although camila was nicer than expected that didn’t mean all of the gang were pleasant — far from it. the ghoulie’s king scared charlie. as did his inner circle, they were all scary. they made him uneasy with how they spoke or conducted themselves, or how they treated others. things always felt tense when any of them were in the room, charlie was often ended up around them with camila. she clearly knew the danger, was uneasy herself from her body language, it made him more scared when she always seemed to secure everywhere else. she never seemed scared of anyone else. he could tell she didn't like leaving him alone with them. charlie always wished he could disappear in their presence, go invisible. though he wished that a lot of the time. he hated their eyes on him, or how they spoke to him. he couldn’t say a word against them though, of course. rather he had to put up with how they spoke or the things they did, he needed to do this for his mother, she needed him to make sure she was safe.one night he was woken up being shook by camila, another man in the doorway as she told him to get dressed. he didn’t know what was happening but they had soon explained he needed to come with cross the border for a deal they were doing, camila was staying back but he needed to go. there had been more police presence recently because of a bust, patrolling and checks to cars but they didn’t want to lose the money. so they were sending him along — the police was less likely to completely search a kid.he was still half asleep when he was pushed into the car with two men he’d never met before. parked outside when the ghoulies king himself came outside, opening the door to the back where charlie had been sat down. he’d never spoken to him much directly, but now he was looking directly into his eyes. ".. hey kid?" the older man had gripped on to his shoulder, squeezing on to it so hard it ached. fingers digging in. ".. if you fuck this up .. i’ll kill both you and your junkie mother. i’ll find you no matter where you go .. don’t doubt that." chills ran down his back, and his throat felt right. he knew he meant the words he said, knew he would do just that if he messed up somehow; kill him and his mom. swallowing hard, and nodding. ".. i won’t fuck up .."they drove away without even the slightest bit of concern from his mother, who didn’t even say goodbye to him. the drive was long, words ringing in his head of what would happened if he somehow made a mistake even though he didn’t really know what he was even doing. he wouldn’t fuck up. they reached their destination hours later, a dim lit diner where he had to undress down to his underwear so they could put everything under his clothes with the reason they were less likely to strip search a twelve year old even if they thought they wouldn’t even be stopped with the route they took.they were wrong. and the police stopped them as they tried to go back the other way over the border, telling them they had a lead sent in that someone may be smuggling illegal substances. charlie’s throat was so tight he could hardly breathe, though he did his best to stay calm. soon taken out of the car by the police with the two men who had been driving. the two men were patted down, strip searched right there on the street. and one of the officers focused on charlie, looking him over before he spoke. "why don’t you take that sweater off son?" he drew a breath. looking over to the two men he’d come with, trying his best to come up with something to think of to say to stop this. ".. no .." it seemed like a silly answer, so small. ".. i .. i .." his mind was racing. swallowing hard. "can’t ya at least take him back to the station so he can call his mom before you try any of that? jeez! he’s just a kid, fuckin’ searching a little kid, what’s wrong with you?" one of the ghoulies he had come with said, and charlie nodded. unable to speak as he was placed in the back of the police car. the two men he had come with stayed back, and he went to the station. as soon as he was there he was asked a million questions by one of the officers working there. including who the men he had been with were, he told them they were friends of his mom — they were coming back home from a trip out of state. it felt like everyone knew he was lying, trying to hide something. it took hours of questions and repeated requests he denied for him to take off the sweater before he was allowed a phone, all the officers were watching him as he tapped in the number to call; it was camila’s number. not his mother. he knew she wouldn’t pick up.".. hi mom .." he started, even if she wasn’t his mom, he had to pretend, surely she'd pick up on that something was wrong. ".. uhm .. we were stopped on the way back from our trip .. i .. they wanna search me .. can you come please —" he didn’t need to fake the tears, beginning to sob into the phone. camila on the other side of the line knew exactly how wrong this had gone, but she answered calmly either-way after he told her where he was. ".. i’ll come right away, kid, don't worry"to her credit she had been there in less time than should have been able to be, with a woman he had never met. it wasn’t his mother, he didn’t even really think she looked a lot like her, but she had his mothers id and his birth certificate so it seemed she’d have to pass as her. he knew it'd have to mean his mother hadn't agreed to come, he'd have to pretend. he sprung up from his seat the second he saw, running over and hugging her, to pretend. "mom—" despite the fact she wasn’t his mom he couldn’t help but feel like crying more when he hugged her. face already completely tear stained after the night he had. "hi, baby — oh god .. i can’t believe they did this .. treating you like this .." the woman wrapped her arms around him, and camila put her hand on his back. even if he couldn’t completely feel the touch through everything packed on him it felt less tense now. no longer alone. he didn't usually like strangers touching him."how dare you keep a kid like that here for hours huh? not let him call the second he got here? trying to strip search a little boy too? come on, charlie, we’re going home .. you don’t have to stay here .. i’m so sorry baby .." even if she wasn’t his mother it felt good to have someone talk to him like that. leaning into her as she began leading him outside, one of the officers tried to stop her. but she told him if they didn’t let them leave she’d be suing for treating ‘her son’ like this. clearly they didn't think it was worth it. they let him leave then, despite the fact they clearly didn’t want to. a court case was the last thing they needed. camila and the woman who had come with drove back to riverdale with him. exchanging a few quiet words as charlie slept in the back seat, exhausted by the night he had — even if now it was turning to morning. camila woke him up when they were back in riverdale, and he could see the morning sun shine through the blinds in the room he was led to as he took off the layers covering the contraband. boxing it all up so he could bring it back outside soon after, met with the ghoulies leader as he opened the door.".. i heard what happened kid. got brought to the police station for hours, and you still didn’t break. heh, got us our shit. good job." he smacked his back so hard charlie had to take a step forward to keep balance. adjusting his hoodie. ".. of course." and he drew a breath. ".. i didn’t want to disappoint." was soon added. eyes moving between the box and the older man, who gave a little laugh. as if he was amused by the entire situation despite the fact that under a day before he had threatened to kill him should he fuck up.".. ya didn’t. you didn’t fuck us over, that’s worth somethin’. kid like you deserves a jacket after all this shit you’ve done, welcome in, you're one of us." this time he met his eyes without the focus on threatening him, he still felt threatened though — even praising him it felt like there was a looming threat over him, that he shouldn’t fuck up now either. even if he was a ghoulie that didn’t mean he was immune, or that he would be spared should he fuck up. and being a ghoulie was a lifetime commitment. the ghoulie king walked off as he stood there, in shock. only brought out when camila put her jacket over his shoulders, patting him on the back far less hard than the man had. ".. you take this, huh? ‘got another one at home. good job."being a ghoulie had always seemed to be something inevitable in his life — he was a southsider, everyone had to make sure they had someone to look out for them, and he had been born far too close to the ghoulies for the serpents to ever trust him, but he never thought it would be so soon. though, things didn’t always happened as planned, he knew that well. with them something was always happening, their supposed king could so such awful things. he was a cruel man, he could do horrible things. charlie had always known that, but he only proved it more everyday he was around him. he gave him nightmares of all the blood, the awful things he did to those who betrayed them. he was terrified that one day they would think he had, and he’d experience something so awful in his final moments. it seemed to be inevitable he would someday be all that much closer to it, one day working on some things at the house when he heard camila screaming as she was dragged in by the hair. she was accused of betraying them, scheming against their leader. she didn’t think he was doing good for them anymore, she thought he was driving the ghoulies — her family — down a dangerous path, though the concern didn’t stop her from being beaten bloody. the woman who had once pretended to be his mother all those years ago, who he’d learnt went by flora, held him back by his arm. gripping tight as she learnt down to his ear. “.. don’t run into this, she’ll have to take it, she’s tough, it’ll get you both killed if you’re involved, you’ll help more if you stand back, wait for the right time.” he listened, despite the fact watching her get beat made his stomach turn. watching someone hurt her. “.. they won’t kill her, not yet, we’ll have am opening. you have to get down there, they’d never let me go, she’ll know where to meet me. i’ll get everything ready, we can do this. just get her out.” flora took a breath, looking over him. he was just a kid — but they didn’t have a lot of chances. he loved camila. he was the only one flora could know she could trust.the beating ended eventually, and like flora has said they didn’t kill her yet. they put her in the basement, bloodied and bruised. of course there was a party afterwards, for getting her, quelling the rebellion. and charlie was there, cleaning up bottles, itching closer to their leaders table. everyone was drunk, so while they wouldn’t notice from their intoxication he itched closer to be able to push one of the bottles just where their leader swung his hand so often. it smashed to the floor moments later, seemingly to no fault of his. but he was nearby, and so he was the one told to go down to the basement to get more alcohol for them. just as he knew they would do, that got him past the guards with no questions. camila was there, barely conscious. covered in her own blood, once he knew the door was closed he went over, nudging her awake. “camila .. you have to wake up, i’m letting you lose. flora has an escape car .. you gotta go now ..” and he took a deep breath. eyes shifting between her and the door, it could open any second. “.. kid .. if they find you let me loose they’ll just kill you instead.” she mumbled, but he’d already cut the ropes. “.. i know, i just .. i can’t let you die.” he bit down on his lip, removing the ropes that were there. “come with me, flora and i can find somewhere better than this for you. you’ll be safe, you won’t have to do this shit ..” and he stared on the floor, bloodied. it made him sick. “.. i can’t. i .. can’t leave my mom behind .. she needs me .. you have to go. but ..” he took another deep breath, dropping his knife to the floor. “punch me in the face, and push me into that shelf, it’ll look like you just overpowered me. then you climb out the window and meet flora ..” he could see camila hesitate, but he took her hand. smiling, even though he could feel his eyes burning from his tears. they could both hear the steps coming closer, and camila kissed his forehead, she knew there was no other choice at this point. “you’re a damn good kid, never stop being a good, i’m sorry ..” and her first met his face, pushed into the shelf right afterwards. glass smashing into a million pieces as his ears rung, he could feel the cuts over his body — the sting from the alcohol meeting broken skin certainly didn’t help. but camila was gone before the door opened. charlie staring up at the flashing lights above him as people swarmed the basement.the next thing he noticed was being pulled up by the collar of his shirt by the ghoulie king, screaming as he smashed him into a table, knife pointed at his stomach as he already coughed up blood. “you did this! you helped her escape! i’ll gut you right fucking here!” he knew he meant it, charlie’s head shaking as he spoke. still coughing. “no— no .. i swear .. i needed to adjust her ropes, they were loose, and she .. she grabbed my knife and overpowered me. i didn’t think she was awake ..” he didn’t know how he managed to keep his voice so steady — like he was telling the truth even as he saw the fury in his eyes. it worked in the end even if he couldn’t understand how, their king pulled back from following through with his threats as charlie coughed up more blood. he had to be stitched up multiple places, but camila escaped. she was never seen again despite the people sent out to catch her, get her back.

charlie had hoped that maybe once their old king died she would come back, when malachai took over — a better king. a better man. and the old guard was chased out of town, everything was better, they became like the ghoulies camila wanted them to be. and who he could like too even if they were criminals and did bad things for their own reasons, but she never came back. even as much as he waited he never saw her again. things were better though, at least with the ghoulies.despite everything nothing seemed to change at home, his mom was just the same. he continued to believe things would get better. at the age of fifteen his mother got a boyfriend worse than any of the others. violent, just like the rest. but more unsettling, and this one stuck around. sketch could always feel his eyes following him, watching him when he walked out of the bathroom after a shower. brushing his hands up against his body or staring at him when he laid in bed. his name was adam, he was thirty year old, thirteen younger than his mother, a handsome man, not an addict. which only served to make sketch more suspicious of him, rightfully so.adam scared him, he scared him so much he installed three locks on his bedroom door, begun getting dressed in the bathroom instead of those three steps it took to walk to his bedroom because he could always see him looking when he came out. for some reason finding him in the hallway right outside. only becoming worse as the years passed, seeming to find more reason to touch him, more of a right to his body. running his hands over his sides when he stood in the kitchen, or feeling his thighs. despite how much he hated it he never said a word, never told his mother the man he was. how he treated him. and he didn’t know that there was no need to tell her. because she knew. she just didn’t care. just like she never had.

stats !

stats
full name charlie simmons / charlie mayfloweralias(s) : sketchage : 18 - 26, depending on the place in the timeline and if it is pre or post timejump.languages spoken : english, korean, spanishpronouns : he / himheight : 5´7"hair colour : blackeye colour : dark brownscars, tattoo (s) :
- multiple scars from his childhood and his mothers ex boyfriends. mostly on his arms but some on his shoulders or other places.
- his ghoulie tattoo is on the inside of his lower left arm, more so on his wrist than anything. it isn't super big but it is noticable.appearance : sketch has kinda messy / fluffy hair, he likes it that way. he wears a lot of black and worn clothes from thrift stores, a lot of hoodies too, he's nearly always covered in paint on his hands. and is decently scrawny. he usually wears a lot of layers of clothes he hides himself in since he's not very comfortable without it. he looks very unassuming and unthreatening in general

tidbits !

- sketch is out nearly every-night working on his art. it's all he does. he often climbs up dangerous places for fresh canvas. it's rare he shows up at school in his teen years because of it, at least on time. though, when he's there he's great student, to his teachers frustrations. he doesn't care much for school or the restrictions it comes with, and he never cared about university both because it never seemed like something for him and because he knew there was no way he could ever afford that.- when he was a kid he once got sent to the hospital for eating a lot of green paint since he learnt that greens were healthy. he wasn't upset to be there, he loved the hospital since the nurses are nice and bring him food and snacks from the vending machine and the bed was comfy.- he's always struggled socially, he can be kind of awkward and he doesn't really know how to make friends always. he especially didn't as a kid, in part also blamed on the fact he is shy.- when people are 'too' nice to him he can sometimes get very flustered, with that comes him getting blushy too. he can't help it.- sketch doesn't really know how to make food, no-one ever taught him how. he's spent all his life doing his best to just get something himself. he doesn't eat enough and often ends up with just pasta / cup noodles or candy or ice-cream for dinner.

solos !

all solos will be linked here in the form of twitlonger links !