Obadiah Mercer

_____________________________________________________________________________ | Someone else has taken this photo of a super chill looking dude. He is | | leaning against a perfect Mystery Machine replica smoking and laughing with | | a | | woman with platinum blond hair and striking blue eyes. | | This is a bronzed skin man with tousled brown hair in his early thirties. | | He is lightly spattered with blood. | | He is 5’9″ and has sun-kissed bronze skin, and brown hair. | | You can see his face, neck, legs, arms, and hands. | | His hair is a dark, unruly wave that is thick and touchable, with a slight | | curl that grows more pronounced the closer it gets to his collar. It always | | looks like it’s just barely recovered from a sea breeze, artfully tousled | | without seeming styled. A few strands fall over his brow when he leans | | forward, and though he occasionally ties it back with a leather cord or | | lets it fall messily around his face, it somehow suits every look he throws | | together. His forehead is smooth but expressive, with a slight crease that | | appears whenever he’s concentrating, or pretending to. There’s a faint | | weathering to it, the kind of soft wear that suggests years under sun and | | moonlight. A faint scar, nearly invisible, runs diagonally through his | | right brow. He sports a narrow jawline that tapers into a clean, shadowed | | chin, usually brushed with a short, deliberate stubble. His lips are full | | and frequently fall into a “resting tease face.” There’s a certain roguish | | curve to his mouth. When he speaks, it’s often with the corners of his | | mouth tugged slightly upward, like he’s in on a joke no one else has heard | | yet. His neck is lean and smooth, lightly freckled along the sides from | | long days in the sun. Just under the collarbone, the faint edge of an inked | | symbol occasionally peeks out: a knotwork anchor wrapped in thorns. From | | left jugular to just about his Adam’s Apple, in a diagonal slashing motion, | | are three parallel scars that are consistent with a powerful clawing wound. | | His forearms are wiry and expressive. Veins trace just beneath the surface | | of his weather-worn skin, speaking to a life of practiced, physical work. | | Faint scars- too neat to be accidents -mark the inside of his left forearm, | | the remnants of old adventures. A delicate, swirling script curls around | | his right wrist like a bracelet that shifts subtly when viewed from | | different angles. His hands are long-fingered and dexterous, the kind of | | hands that can palm a coin, pour a flawless drink, or tie a sailor’s knot | | without looking. His nails are clean and a few faded scars crisscross his | | knuckles. His calves are lean but toned, shaped by constant movement rather | | than training. A few nicks and small scars dot the skinremnants of a life | | lived around saltwater and driftwood. Wrapped around his right calf is a | | tattoo of a Kraken‘s tentacle, grasping the leg as if to pull him under. | | He smells faintly of expensive rum, citrus, exotic spices, and the sea. | | He is using: | | (E) a newer generation iPhone protected in a blue OtterBox | | (D) a pair of generic black UV-protective sunglasses | | (S) an artistically crafted, ivory puka shell and jute necklace | | (D) a dark heather grey cotton t-shirt showing a love for tacos | | (S) a braided cord bracelet with oceanic glass beads | | (adjustable) (D) boardshorts with a light blue Hawaiian print | | (D) a well-worn pair of men’s taupe leather Birkenstock sandals | |_____________________________________________________________________________|