[attr="class","app-ban"]

16

TRANSMAN

GENDER-NONCONFORMING

DEMI-HOMOSEXUAL

STUDENT

It is a combination of curly/wavy and exceedingly well taken care of, which has allowed him to grow it to the point where it now brushes against his mid-thighs when loose. Technically he has bangs, but he’ll just as often pin them to the side giving the illusion of a side-part when he feels like showing some forehead.
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[break]While his hair is naturally medium brown, for the last six years it's transitioned into a flaxen blond ombré at the ends - That is courtesy of Laurent, who many years ago decided it’d be peak comedy to force-bleach Farrah's hair. It is pure stubborn energy on Farrah’s part that’s kept him from cutting it off, and instead trying to integrate it by adding similar flaxen blond highlights to make it look a little less stark.

Doe-eyed, curtained by thick brown lashes. Farrah has complete heterochromia, with his right eye being sage green, and his left rain-cloud blue.

4'8" / 143cm

Soft-bodied and pear-shaped, with most of his excess weight falling to his thighs and buttocks. At a glance his physique might make it hard to believe he has practiced ballet since he was five years old; It's because Farrah gains weight easily, and loses it only with significant effort, So he tends towards being a little plush at the best of times regardless of how much he exercises.

His skin is medium brown, sprinkled with pale freckles like stardust across his face and upper body. He blushes easily and prettily, flushing his cheeks, nose and ears warm red.

He is a non-op transman, having chosen to only transition socially. As far as his own perception of his body goes, he finds he has no desire to change himself physically, and is quite comfortable with his looks. Farrah’s masculinity is not tied to his appearance, his style, or even how he behaves. He is simply a man, and that's all.
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[break]As of right now, he is only out to his friends.

If he was forced to sit down and describe his own sense of style in terms of fashion aesthetics, it’d probably be as a mix of cottagecore and dark academia. He tends towards wearing earthy or creamy tones, and warm late summer to autumnal colors like yellows, reds and dark greens. He likes bold colors more than pastels, even though rose pink is his favorite color.
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[break]He wears a lot of knee-length flared dresses. Plaid or pencil skirts that reach at least mid-thigh, with turtlenecks, sweaters or blouses, with or without a vest or a jacket. On occasion shorts, at least in the warmer months. He dresses modestly, but isn’t actually that concerned about being modest, it’s just what he likes seeing on himself.
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[break]Farrah tries to shop conscientiously, avoiding fast fashion as much as he can, primarily because he hates being beholden to whatever is marketable at the moment. He thrifts a lot of his clothes, and the rest is custom ordered and thus custom fit to his proportions. What doesn’t fit perfectly, he’ll take in or let out himself to ensure it looks good.
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[break]All that is not to say he doesn’t have an oversized, ratty hoodie that’s stolen from a friend buried somewhere in his closet, to be taken out when he feels miserable and has zero energy to spare.

Original art, Farrah Deneir

We're ignoring the bunny ears, thank you <3

Calm, compassionate, collected. The image of a good student, nose buried in textbooks, diligently taking notes. It is the carefully cultivated image Farrah maintains among his classmates. The image he holds onto with white-knuckled force, scared to death he’ll be unable to piece himself back together if he lets go.
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[break]His grades are immaculate, his attendance at 100%.
[break]He delivers his homework early, he’ll patiently tutor any student that asks him for help.
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[break]All because he copes by keeping himself busy. An overachiever by necessity, who will work himself to the bone before admitting even to himself that he needs help. It’s nurtured arrogance in its gentlest form, believing it's okay for others to need help, but he needs to be perfect.
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[break]Bubbling barely below that perfect surface is anxiety so deep it’s grown its own heartbeat, choking him when he breathes. It shows in the irritability he feels when he thinks he could do better, or the way he visibly wilts at even the slightest hint of disappointment towards him from others.
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[break]Farrah needs constant validation not to fall apart. A praise kink developed from trauma, and kept alive by a persistent longing for affection. He is good enough, he deserves to be loved. He doesn’t actually know what love feels like, so he’ll take any interaction that doesn’t hurt as a substitute. It’s toxic in the way he attaches himself to someone, and offloads his entire self-worth onto their approval of him. Co-dependent, clingy, willing to forego his own comfort to ensure he is liked.
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[break]Sensitive to the last, it takes dangerously little to bring Farrah to unbidden tears. It’s his body’s one-size-fits-all reaction to negative events, be it anger, fright, sadness or stress. Unfortunately it's difficult to be taken seriously when his fury is overshadowed by a wobbling lip, cracked voice and red-rimmed eyes brimming with tears.

TW: non-descriptive CSA
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° Draws his feet up to sit with his legs tucked up against his chest when he feels vulnerable or anxious. If the chair is too small to do this, he will cross his legs at the thigh instead, with his knees held up tensely.
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[break]° Soft-spoken to the point where he can be hard to hear in a crowd, yet gets incredibly flustered if asked to repeat himself or speak louder.
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[break]° He has a slight stutter when stressed, anxious or worked up, which progressively gets worse as his mind spirals. It is most prominent when he has to speak with strangers, and as a result he tends to let others do the talking whenever possible. It doesn’t help that he sometimes forgets English words.
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[break]° Scrunches his nose when he laughs.
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[break]° Will go barefoot whenever he is allowed to, and it is reasonable to do so. It makes him feel grounded, calmer even.

° Reading. Farrah is a voracious reader, and practically magnetically pulled towards any bookshelf in his field of view. As far as preferences goes, he will read almost anything from autobiographies, to fantasy or sci-fi. Almost anything, because the one genre he cannot stand is horror.
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[break]° Dressage. The stable is his escape from anything that troubles him, a little bubble of sanctuary where Laurent would not follow when at home. He took up dressage primarily because it was a sport “suitable for a young lady”, a facet that his step-father took very seriously, but over the years he’s grown to love it. He has his own horse stabled at the academy, a nine year old haflinger mare named Calluna.
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[break]° Ballet. Once upon a time he dreamed of becoming a prima ballerina, but then puberty hit him like a truck around thirteen-fourteen, and crushed any hopes he had. But this didn’t dampen his love for the art, so while he is a good deal less rigid about his training than he used to be, he still dances several times a week.
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[break]° Watching movies/TV shows. He’ll watch anything except horror, but these days he’s been binging Gilmore girls.
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[break]° Crochet. A more recent hobby he took up more as an outlet for restlessness on high anxiety days about a year ago, he’s actually grown quite fond of it by now. That is not to say he is good at it, but he can crochet some cute rabbits and make anything that just needs to be assembled from a whole bunch of granny squares.

° Has an identical voice and speaking cadence to Aimee-Ffion Edwards.
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[break]° His favorite fruit is peaches.
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[break]° Tends to gravitate towards eating vegetarian when he can, but he wouldn't label himself as a vegetarian if asked.
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[break]° His native tongue is Spanish, but after he moved to Wales with his mother, he forced himself to learn Welsh (and English) with a good welsh accent so as to not get bullied for the way he speaks.
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[break]° Of all the seasons he enjoys summer and autumn the most.
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[break]° A self-proclaimed summer child, he finds winters to be harrowing.
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[break]° Farrah dreads the holidays and summer vacation, and would sooner stay on campus than go home. He gets increasingly anxious and irritable as any holiday approaches.

Anatomy & Physiology

Dance (Ballet)

Dressage

Student council, event coordinator

One of the Radiants! (purchased after acceptance)

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[break]Home was a tiny, one bedroom flat on the third floor of a well-worn apartment complex in Caguas. Blue doors with chipped paint, plumerias in a planter box outside the windows. The scent of his mother’s cooking wafting through every room. He was happy then - truly happy - when his whole world was the size of a block, and the most stressful thing in his life was homework. It’s the days he longs back for, but he supposes his mother must not have felt the same. He never knew how much she struggled, how difficult it was to make ends meet with no education.
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[break]A single mother, left bereaved after a workplace accident took her husband from them. She worked herself to the bone - a workplace ethic he’s since adopted - trying to keep them afloat. Long hours, hard work. Farrah spent as much time with the retired couple that lived downstairs as he did in his own home, and he misses them too. Honorary grandparents, always giving him old-fashioned sweets and helping him with schoolwork.
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[break]Perhaps it was inevitable that she’d want something more. Something better both for herself, and for her child.
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[break]To him it felt like it all happened in an instance. Farrah was ten when his mother announced she was getting married, and that they would be moving to Wales. He’d met Owain, his future step-father, only once in a passing while coming home from school. A virtual stranger shaking up the status quo of his perfectly imperfect life. But his mother had that gooey smile, she seemed so excited, so his exclaims rooted themselves to his tongue and was swallowed.
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[break]A month later he stepped onto the gravel of their new home in Wales. No, not so much a home as some kind of manor you’d see in English TV shows, as big as his entire world had been before. Owain was of old money, and a successful businessman to boot. The gardens were picture perfect, every piece of furniture like they’d been made in the same set of modern minimalism, and Farrah had never felt more out of place in such a house devoid of color.
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[break]That would be the feeling that prevailed over the next years: foreign, other. Owain’s son Laurent would see to that. Laurent was five years older than Farrah, and very much a product of his upbringing. Sheltered, pressured, angry and misplacing that anger upon anyone he viewed as too weak to fight back. In the spectrum of weak, who was weaker than a child living with them on his father’s mercy, barely even understanding their language?
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[break]It started as bullying. Calling him names, insulting his intellect and pushing him around. He was just a novelty, kept because Owain liked new and exotic things. He and his mother would be packed up and sent back to their pigsty soon enough. But ‘soon enough’ didn’t come.
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[break]Their parents were happily married. Rose-tinted glasses were so strong that the one time Farrah ran to his mother, crying that he wanted to move ‘back home’, she simply soothed his hair and told him that this was just how brothers were. He’d get used to it. She smiled so genuinely then that he couldn’t bear to ruin it, so he never talked about it again.
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[break]Then it was not just bullying anymore. It was Laurent demanding increasingly humiliating things of him. It was Laurent showing up at his bedroom door after the house had gone to sleep. It was pain, it was insults, it was reminders that everything he had he owed to Laurent’s father, and the least he could do was pay it back however Laurent wanted him to.
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[break]He silently endured that attention for years, convinced he was at fault. Too scared that his mother would hate him if she knew to utter a single word about it.
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[break]Until at last the fragile bubble of their circumstances popped.
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[break]It was the summer of his fifteenth birthday, and the first time Laurent had come home after enrolling in a prestigious university in England. Farrah had dared hope that distance was the end of it, but was so quickly proven wrong.. this time however, Laurent’s father found them. He cries while the two other men argue, so close to throwing up that he can’t speak. Just as well, because after Laurent has been sent out, Owain orders him to keep his mouth shut about this.
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[break]Laurent spends the rest of the summer in Italy, and by the time autumn rolls around Farrah has been enrolled into an expensive academy in Canada, all the better to keep them apart. There is probably nothing that could have hammered home how much he was to blame than that, why else would they send him away while Laurent gets to continue on scott-free?
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[break]Farrah’s mother cries at the airport, believing this was all to ensure he got the best education he could. It does not make him feel better. He is given a beautiful haflinger mare to mollify his hurt, and empty promises of visits that never happened.

Sana

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