F. Treial
F. is 21 years old.
He is the Turntable Artist of dead+ly.
F. is also known as "daemon".
F. is located in Los Angeles at The Chokin' Smurf.
F. likes to exercise at the gym during off hours and is trying to talk to media in order to get ahead professionally.
I love my sober weekends with my mentally stable friends.
[21/22|30]
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| Game: Popmundo |
| Points: 2730 |
| Days Active: 570 days |
Latest Blog Post
Nightmare
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Tossing turning side to side, like a maniac. Blanket on blanket off, sweating and shivering. To say it is just a restless night is an understatement. The moon's too bright, hurting his eyes. It's like he's being interrogated.
Something heavy is weighing him down, as if a demon's sitting on his chest, a stubborn one, unwilling to get off this ride regardless of how many times he tries.
He's restlessly wandering around the room, then pacing back and forth a dozen times; After hours of agony, exhaustion seeps in.
As he is about to drift off, some kind of sound, too close to his comfort, echoes in his ears, causing him to sit up and to inspect. Just out from fucking nowhere, thunder makes its presence known. He scoffs, annoyed at the fact that he can't catch a break.
It's like a cruel joke, like the world's mocking him - a lightning bolt hits way too close, making him feel as if he got struck. The room flashes white - he catches a glimpse of the door - open, and right in front, a gun aimed towards him.
Blood's already flowing from his chest, painting the sheets red, the taste in his mouth, all followed by an excruciating pain. Sudden rain pounds on the windows, heavy and hostile, making it known it's not crying for him. The dark figure behind the gun stalks closer, eyes glowing in the dark, pouncing on top of him, pinning him down, ready to devour.
A sweet scent hits his nose. Flowers? He attempts to focus his blurry vision - a familiar face looks back at him, smiling. Pain. She claws her way into his bloody chest, pushes her hand down into it, trying to get to his heart. He's unable to do anything about it.
Red lips. Red eyes. Red like blood.
She grins. Her teeth, sharp like the devil's.
He smiles back - there's nothing.
_
Posted 4/18/2025, 5:00 PM
All characters in Popmundo are fictitious. Any similarity to any person living or dead is merely coincidental.
Prominent Clothes & Tattoos
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Left wrist
my ɗєmoηѕ vibing
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Left hand
ᴀᴋᴜᴛᴇʀᴀᴛꜱᴜ
Note: Tattoos might be covered by clothing.