Echo Van Den Berg

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<div class="badguy-name">Echo Van Den Berg  </div>

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<x><y>occupation</y> artist</x>
<x><y> location </y> SoHO</x>
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<div class="badguy-nickname">Echo, <x>25</x> </div>

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<x>a social media status, quote or something here. Live it up! </x>
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<traits><span style="width: 60%"><x>Apathetic</x></span></traits>
<traits><span style="width: 75%"><x>Introverted</x></span></traits>
<traits><span style="width: 95%"><x>Creative</x></span></traits>
<traits><span style="width: 80%"><x>Unambitious</x></span></traits>
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cosmic void
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  <div class="badguy-inf2">
  <hi>BASICS</hi>
<inf1>
<inf><y>birth name</y><x><o>Echo Van Den Berg
</o></x></inf>
<inf><y>other names</y><x><o>none</o></x></inf>
<inf><y>birthday</y><x><o>April 2nd</o></x></inf>
<inf><y>age</y><x><o>25</o></x></inf>
<inf><y>occupation</y><x><o>Artist</o></x></inf>
<inf><y>workplace</y><x><o>Self-Employed</o></x></inf>
<inf><y>education</y><x><o>BS in Fine Arts</o></x></inf>
<inf><y>residence</y><x><o>SoHo</o></x></inf>
<inf><y>hometown</y><x><o>Amsterdam</o></x></inf>
<inf><y>ethnicity</y><x><o>Dutch</o></x></inf>
<inf><y>nationality</y><x><o>Dutch(recently Dutch-American)</o></x></inf>
<inf><y>pronouns</y><x><o>he/him </o></x></inf>
<inf><y>gender</y><x><o>male</o></x></inf>
</inf1>

<hi>physiology</hi>
<inf1>
<inf><y>face claim.</y><x><o>Dylan Fosket</o></x></inf>
<inf><y>height</y><x><o>5'9"</o></x></inf>
<inf><y>build</y><x><o>slight, lean.</o></x></inf>
<inf><y>physical ailments</y><x><o>none</o></x></inf>

<inf><y>addictions</y><x><o>tbd</o></x></inf>
<inf><y>distinguishing features</y><x><o>pale blonde hair</o></x></inf>

<inf><y>style</y><x><o>here</o></x></inf>
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<hi>familial</hi>
<inf1>
<inf><y>mother</y><x><o>Fenna Jansen (</o></x></inf>
<inf><y>father</y><x><o>Levi Van Den Berg</o></x></inf>
<inf><y>siblings</y><x><o> Older half sib, Older Van Den Berg, Fawn Van Den Berg (age here), Half sib 1, Half sib 2, </o></x></inf>
<inf><y>children</y><x><o>none</o></x></inf>

<inf><y>other</y><x><o>Best friend 1, Best Friend and Art dealer 2</o></x></inf>
<inf><y>pets</y><x><o>two shorthair cats - named Everleigh(black) and Pierce(grey tabby). </o></x></inf>
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<hi>personality</hi>
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<inf><y>mental ailments</y><x><o>bipolar, social anxiety, occasional selective mutism</o></x></inf>
<inf><y>likes</y><x><o>vodka, s e x, sweets, black coffee, the smell of oranges, music, cats. </o></x></inf>
<inf><y>dislikes</y><x><o>people, interpretation of his work, art critics (the pompous assholes), redheaded women, bananas </o></x></inf>
<inf><y>habits</y><x><o>neglects himself when he's in a painting frenzy,paces when he's anxious,bites his nails, chews pens/pencils/paint brushes. </o></x></inf>
<inf><y>fears or phobias </y><x><o>claustrophobia </o></x></inf>
<inf><y>aspirations</y><x><o>he never really had too many tbh, every thing he achieves is a weird bonus he just does not get. </o></x></inf>
<inf><y>vices</y><x><o>smokes weed, partakes in party drugs, and definitely drinks booze.  </o></x></inf>
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<hi>intimacy</hi>
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<inf><y>relationship status</y><x><o>single</o></x></inf>
<inf><y>partner(s)</y><x><o>tbd</o></x> </inf>
<inf><y>seuxality</y><x><o>homosexual</o></x></inf>
<inf><y>romanticality</y><x><o>aromantic </o></x></inf>
<inf><y>type of lover</y><x><o>the type that wants to please but also be controlled. </o></x></inf>
<inf><y>turn ons</y><x><o>hands, lips, eyes, genuine emotion, being restrained (especially being pinned in place by a stronger lover), dirty talk, when they're bigger than him. </o></x></inf>
<inf><y>turn offs</y><x><o>genuine emotion, feelsy talk, clinginess, poor hygiene.  </o></x></inf>
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wear me like a locket around your throat. i'll weigh you down. i'll watch you choke.
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It wasn't always good. This is a thought that seems to linger in your mind. Long after the cigarette smoke is gone and the paint has been washed away. Long after the smell of that carpet stained with a whole host of unmentionables has left you in your bed.
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In fact, if anything it was <i>rarely</i> good at all.
<br><br>
Still, what was certainly made you. It shaped you into the person who stands better on his own than with a crowd of so-called supporters at your back. It shaped you into the person who looks at happy couples and finds the flaws in their relationship. <b>It shaped you into the person who's voice is mute but who's paint brush is fluent in every language imagined.</b>
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You're an artist who paints his feelings and paints them well enough to make more than a living. You paint them well enough to make a name. And it baffles you how much a stranger is willing to pay to own a piece of your soul.
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The twist of your mouth is cynical even if your eyes remain innocent - despite the permanent shade of sad in their blue depths. The way your arms fold defensively across your middle as you stand in a room full of men and women all too willing to dissect what they see on canvas. Like you're not even there. Like you don't matter.
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(Do you matter? Does anything or anyone think you actually matter? These are the things that haunt you while you stand - cold and secluded amongst a crowd of aggressively avante garde people.)
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<b>"I think this piece speaks of the fragile state of humanity."</b> You hear the words, look at the piece that inspired such wise words and fight from scoffing. You'd painted that one while you were stoned out of your mind. Even you don't know what it means...just that it felt right to use that particular shade of violet. You supposed it spoke of your own fragility. Your own sense of self-worth (or rather the lack thereof). You were going to just throw it away anyway but somehow it got saved and stuck up on that wall.
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The recommended price tag was at a two thousand dollars but people had already offered twice that. They were battling to own it. To own you. You just turn away, and turn your hearing aids down so you don't have to listen to it as much.
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You'd heard it said that it wasn't the paintings that sold but the artist. That they paid as much to get a look at the skinny young man with the moody mouth as they did to get a gander at what he'd put on his canvas. Somewhere in your mind you know it's true. Somewhere in your mind you <i>know</i> that once these paintings...these <i>pieces</i> of you find a home on whatever wall they nail it to...they own a part of your life.
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Mostly though, you wonder how long it takes for these pieces to wind up in a dumpster. To become last season and bring the 'art lovers' out in search of the next big thing. It's a morbid way to think of things,  you suppose...but in your deepest part you know that it's the proper cycle of things. Adore you, let you linger, then discard you.
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It's always been the way of things with you....

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<div class="badguy-title3"><span class="th th-users"></span><x>platonic</x></div>

He honestly tends to keep people at a distance as the idea of getting close to too many people fills him with panic. That's not to say that he doesn't have friends, because he does have people he feels comfortable enough around to let them know him. He just keeps that circle small and his innermost circle smaller (and his innermost circle, well they know pretty much everything there is to know about him - all the gory, dark details). The rest, well, they fall into the line of acquaintances - people he tends to deal with only on the surface. He lets them see the parts of himself he wants them to see and keeps the rest far away because he just doesn't trust easily and does not trust immediately either. It's not to say people in this category couldn't change status and become an actual friend of course, but it does take time and persistence (and most people kinda tend to give up). If you are considered a friend or a close friend, though...well these are the people he tends to go to for true emotional support, treating them more like a found family than anything. He's very open for new relationships that fall into this category, and old ones two (especially two best and closest friends that have definitely helped him through the hardest parts of his life). He needs everything from people who just use him for his seemingly neverending supply of certain designer drugs (and that good kush) and the money he seems to have no problems throwing around to the people that actually matter to him and know him.


<div class="badguy-title3"><span class="th th-broken-heart"></span><x>romantic</x></div>

In the area of love, his experience is limited to only the physical. When he was younger he sought connection, and did it almost frantically - often falling in with the wrong sort of boy just to feel alive and human (when most times he feels like he's alienated from the world). As he grew, he became more selective, choosing connections that he knew would be brief due to his instincts telling him he wasn't really long for the world. Currently he goes through periods where he is manically searching for partners and then stagnates out to not bothering to seek out this type of physical interaction at all and then returning once again to repeat the cycle. He generally steers clear from people that might have feelings or want feelings from him as he just generally thinks he's terrible at expressing these things in ways most neuro-typical people would want (he tends to express through his art rather than through his words). Despite the difficulties present, honestly he's incredibly open for just about everything here - fwbs, flings, flirtations, hate sex and yeah, eventually even one solid person to be patient with him and let him learn to love them back.

<div class="badguy-title3"><span class="th th-knife"></span><x>antagonistic</x></div>


Echo is the sort that is probably easy to at least dislike. He actively loathes most people and because of it isn't likely to be immediately polite to strangers. If anything he is immediately rude and if you last long enough to get around that, he softens up later. Just because he loathes people though, he doesn't go out of his way to pick fights because he just doesn't have the energy for it. Or the time. He says what he has to say and if someone else wants to hit him because of it, go ahead and then he figures that you can both move on from there. He has no time to be keeping track of 'enemies', and not enough care in him to worry about other people's opinions of him when he already has a shitty enough opinion of himself to begin with. I do enjoy this kind of chemistry though where two people just rub each other the wrong way but there's still something there you know? Honestly give me all the hateships to see where they go (and even at the base, hate sex is great amirite?).

<div class="badguy-title3"><span class="th th-sattelite"></span><x>other</x></div>


He never had much of a relationship with his mother, and though it's rumored that he does have siblings he's never met them as for some reason, he's the one child she managed to keep while the rest were taken away and sent off to foster situations. It's estimated he has two full siblings, and three half-siblings (only three of which he has any memory of). Honestly if one or two more were to come out of the woodwork it'd be interesting. Also, one of his closest friends is also his art dealer. Other than that, he could use people in the art world who would know him or of him, maybe even gallery owners he's done showings with in the past or present.


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<y>written by</y> <x>red </x>
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<x>age</x>years old <x>pronounshere</x>pronouns <x>timezone</x> time zone
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<x>adult content</x>
<y>yes</y>
<x>contact</x>
<y>pm, discord (thotpocket#3334) </y>
<x>triggers</x>
<y> ANIMAL ABUSE/DOG FIGHTING	 </y>
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