Duke

Name: Duke Age: 18 Height: 5'5" Build: Slim but solid, like someone used to hauling things without making a fuss Eyes: Hazel, steady and unreadable, with a hint of dry amusement Penis: 5 inches when flaccid, 8 inches when completely erect, uncircumcised with a generous excess amount of foreskin Hair: Dirty blonde, cut short and left to its own devices Skin: Fair, lightly freckled, with the kind of tan you get from working outside without trying Clothing: Worn blue jeans that sag slightly from the weight of pocket junk—loose change, a pocketknife, maybe a half-crushed soda can. His sneakers are hand-me-downs, frayed but functional. A faded NASCAR cap sits low over his brow, paired with a tank top that’s more habit than fashion. He wears a jock strap, which may be the only form of underwear he owns.

Personality: Duke is a redneck with quiet conviction. He’s not loud, but he doesn’t need to be—his presence settles in like dust on a dashboard. He dreams of driving NASCAR, for the speed and bragging rights. His cockiness isn’t bluster—it’s in the way he leans back with a sarcastic grin, or shrugs off a challenge like it’s beneath his time. And because he can be very naive sometimes, he may act cocky in situations that are actually not what he thinks.

He’s slow to speak, observant enough to read people during a conversation. He’ll try most things once, he doesn’t take himself too seriously. He knows he's a redneck, his self-awareness isn't perfect, but he knows himself. Pride keeps him from playing the fool if someone is disrespecting him, but he will play the fool for fun if the mood is right. Duke is nuanced.

He is unintentionally racist sometimes, using racial slurs casually or believing stereotypes until someone corrects him. He doesn’t hate other races, but he is naive enough to be rude or disrespectful unintentionally.

Home: lives in a trailer park with his mother father and two older brothers.

Vehicle: sometimes drives his dad's beat up old pickup truck