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Buried under faith and doubt

CONTENT WARNING: Very, very heavy warning. Contains mentions and references of verbal, sexual, and physical abuse of a minor, victim blaming, death of a loved one, abandonment, and suicidal ideation. [break][break]
His short life has been a hard one, please do not read if you believe it may cause you harm. I do not ever want to cause anyone mental distress with my writing. [break][break]

Personality

Although at his core Milo is a kind soul with trust issues, he’s often described as distant and cold by those who aren’t close with him. He tends to speak when spoken to with most people. It isn’t necessarily that he doesn’t care, but more so that he just has little to say most of the time. It’s thanks to these qualities, among how difficult he tends to make it to get close to him, that he’s managed to live in Tokyo since the age of 17 and not really met anyone he’d call a “friend”. He’s generally reserved when it comes to himself and is hesitant to talk about his interests, life, or anything of the sort. It does little but make him deeply uncomfortable and registers more as “prying” to him rather than trying to get to know him. If he feels that someone is doing so for nefarious purposes or overstepping a boundary, he tends to lash out verbally. The raven tends to say cruel things that he doesn’t mean out of a blend of fear and rage. It’s something that has made a handful of people dislike him, rightfully so, and has also caused him a good deal of remorse and guilt. He has the tendency to let his emotions get the better of him and often feels that he experiences the negative ones more deeply than all others. His existence is marked by periods of near manic happiness, usually spanning no more than a month, and then either sudden down swings into weeks of incredibly deep hurt and sorrow or periods of fragile stability; no doubt caused by his horrendous past.
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The Seattleite is, as I’m sure you may have guessed, a deeply troubled young man. His propensity to overthink and replay painful situations in his head has kept him in a perpetual cycle of healing and then reopening some of his deepest wounds. His own head is seemingly out to get him with his memories and actions as it’s ammo. Although these things occurred years ago now, for him there was no justice, no peace to be found. Even now that he’s thousands of miles away he can’t outrun it yet can’t bring himself to ask for help. He experiences many of the markers that tend to plague those with histories like he has, such as periods of hypersexuality, which only impacts him and is never something he projects onto others, it tends to only feed into the distress and shame that he experiences. To him, it seems that each time he begins to heal, his head will drag him back down to where he started, without him even understanding why. Some foolish part of him thinks that if he tries to stop thinking about it, it will eventually go away or he’ll just become numb to it.
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In spite of some of his qualities and unfortunate past and present, his life and personality are not just a list of negatives. Though much of who he is as a person is hidden away behind walls of distrust, Milo makes one of the best friends or lovers that one could hope to have. When he’s comfortable around someone, he can become quite talkative. His communication then is marked by warmth, softness, and he can genuinely be quite captivating; especially given the way with words that he has. Milo’s circle, if he had one, would be kept quite small. He has an affinity for caring for others more than he should and shows his affection through acts of service. Although his observant nature is often used to keep people from getting too close, it’s also something that he’s able to use to be there for those that he cares for. If there’s something wrong, he will often sense and pick it out in the nuances of someone’s actions. The raven will be your defender, shoulder to cry on, giver of advice, and biggest cheerleader without question when he considers you a friend or something more. It can be a bit of a jarring contrast, given his appearance and the first impression that he tends to give off; though that’s better left unsaid. It might come as a surprise, but Milo is a bit sensitive to the words of others. If he’s newly opening up to you a careless sentence can make him vanish from your life instantly and without explanation. He’s especially touchy when it comes to his singing and writing, which he’s incredibly talented at given that he’s received no formal training. Much of his knowledge and ability was gained through trial, error, and a desire for perfection. He’s a dreamer who has an otherworldly voice and an equal way with words, one who is dedicated to his craft. Perhaps one day he will use it to rise above his circumstances.
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Physical Description

HEIGHT: 5 FT 11 IN // 180 CM
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WEIGHT: 140 LBS // 63.5 KG
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EYE COLOR: Muted Blue
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HAIR COLOR: Jet Black
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SKIN TONE: Very fair, near ghostly
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TATTOOS: Considering how young he is, he's collected quite a few, some of them with meanings assigned to them, though the most noteworthy one is the quote around his throat meaning: "I can live neither with you, nor without you" in Greek.

In addition to that, a brilliant sun can be found on the left side of his chest over his heart, along with a variety of other tattoos along his arms and hands. Some, such as the sun on his chest, serve as a reminder of better things, while others are simply things that he thought might look pretty; he was right.
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PIERCINGS: A close set on the right side of his lower lip, two dermals on the left side of his face: underneath the outer corner of his eye and the other on his brow bone. In addition, Milo has an assortment of piercings on his ears with the left ear having the majority of them. The piercings on his left ear are as follows: earlobe, upper lobe, conch, and helix. On his right ear, you'll find that his earlobe is pierced, along with having an additional helix piercing. He'd love to get more dermal piercings or a septum.
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SUMMARY:[break]
Milo is best described as relatively tall and lanky with a fair, but not impressive amount of muscle to him. He's been likened to a dead tree before, which hurt his feelings but definitively holds a touch of truth to it. Given his height of 5'11, he's considered slightly underweight at 140lbs, though he avoids looking gaunt or too sickly by the grace of god alone. His less than stellar weight can be attributed to his constantly shifting mental health and therefore his eating habits, when it's better he tends to eat as much as he should, when it's not great he tends to consume significantly less or do without entirely. It's unfortunately pretty common for him to just eat a few grapes and call it quits on a particularly bad day.
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The raven is and has always been a near ghostly white and is as fair as the light of the moon, this can be attributed to him being nearly nocturnal. Most of, if not all of his business is conducted at night, no matter how mundane it may be; which is how he prefers it and thankfully his work schedule lines up fairly well. Given how pale he is, and the fact that he almost exclusively dresses in shades of gray or black, Milo can have an almost haunting appearance, the only time any color really comes to his features is when he's extremely upset. Some people might be put off or unsettled by it, though it's certainly attracted it's fair share of unwanted and unwelcome attention. Milo, much to his dismay, looks nearly identical to the father that walked out on him, the fine, pretty facial features, the slim build, down to the very coloration of his skin, hair, and eyes all came from him.
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His irises are a cool, muted blue, akin to a gloomy sky and there are times that they can appear listless or completely devoid of warmth. However they have a funny way of brightening up depending on how he's feeling at the time. Even though he may try his best to hide when he's hurt, they always give him away. There's a dreary sort of beauty to them, especially when put into perspective with the rest of his appearance. In addition, they're framed by relatively thick, pitch black eye lashes, which isn't too far off from the rest of his hair. Though it's seen as more than a bit unusual, Milo wears his jet black, shoulder length hair parted heavily to the right side and shaved in an undercut at the left. Perhaps there's some deep symbolism behind it, like he's cut off a part of himself; though it's more likely that he just thought it might look cool.
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As stated previously, Milo dresses almost exclusively in a monochromatic color scheme. Tank tops with oversize jackets, skinny jeans, shirts three sizes too big, sweat pants, you name it and he probably has it in black or something close to it. For footwear, if he's not wearing his pair of busted in, black leather combat boots, he's likely wearing slip-ons or black sandals. His style of dress is relatively basic, especially given the color scheme, however it makes things particularly easy on him. No way for things not to match when they're all in the same color family...right? Although it makes getting dressed for work or going out a bit more straight forward, it does nothing but emphasize his already ghostly appearance. Even still, he values his clothing and possessions, there was a time when all he had were the clothes on his back.

History

Milo's story is unfortunately not a very happy one, though things were not always bad for him. In fact, his youngest years were relatively good ones and he finds himself yearning for those days and wishing he could remember them more on particularly bad days. If one attempted to read into the nuances of his life to find where things truly went wrong, they would likely, according to him, pick the wrong day and time. If you ask him, his life was express mailed to Hell when his father walked out on him and his mother when he was around 7 years old. It wasn't a particularly violent event, more so that the man just vanished and could no longer be reached, not even by his mother, any friends, or relatives. All he remembers is that he came home from school one day, and he'd simply gone, none of his possessions remained, the drawers cleaned out; it was fairly obvious to Milo that he'd just walked away. Even still, sometimes he wonders if that's really what happened, his father has still not contacted anyone, even his paternal grandparents have no clue where he went. Though there's no way for Milo to be privy to such information any longer, given his circumstances. It was and is easier for the young man to assume that he'd just gotten tired of being a husband and parent, and had simply chosen to walk away from it; for that reason he resents him and likely will until the day he dies.
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So, you might wonder why he chose that as the day that everything truly went wrong if that was all that happened. It wasn't so much the contents of that particular day, but of every day to follow it. From then on, life for his middle class family went spiraling downward. His mother managed to keep them in the same house he was born in, but it was only after she began to work two jobs and get help from both sets of grandparents. Previously, he'd been very close with his mother, as he was the only child she'd ever meant to have and was his best friend in a sense. She loved him dearly, and would've done anything in the world for him, in some ways she did just that though it's unlikely that she intended for it to have this sort of affect on him. So to have her suddenly be incredibly absent was more distressing than it was a relief. Though things didn't really start to look hellish for him until he turned 9 years old, when his mother began seeing a security guard at one of her jobs.
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At first, the man seemed nice, though there was something about him that Milo simply did not like and, being a child that wore his emotions on his sleeve, he made this abundantly clear. His mother, though she meant well, dismissed it as Milo being worried about this new man "taking the place of his father" and being "unwelcoming of change". As far as she saw, he was nothing more than an incredibly sweet, handsome man who was in love with her and would be the father that Milo deserved to have growing up. However she couldn't have been more wrong. Once this man moved in, Milo's afternoons and nights at his paternal grandparent's home came to a screeching halt under the guise of getting "bonding time" with his new step-father. It started with uncomfortable glances, staring too long, then progressed from there, touches to the arm, the hip, and then things far more nefarious, agonizing, and humiliating. Any hesitation or resistance was met with violence, cruel words, and countless hours of manipulation to never tell a soul, though he was always careful never to leave marks on his visible parts or cause serious injury. According to his step-father, this sort of thing was normal for boys to be doing with their fathers, and it only hurt because he was bad. This caused Milo an immense deal of distress and he began to slowly wither away. His social circles disappeared, he became moody, couldn't pay attention in class, his grades plummeted, he could hardly eat, his body ached and burned; yet still he never told a soul. Why would he? It was normal, he'd be seen as a brat if he complained...right? The years flew by like this, with the sexual abuse escalating in severity and frequency as he became older and yet it went unnoticed due to his abuser's manipulations and his mother's constant shuffling between work and home. Although it wasn't until he got to high school that he realized the true gravity and depravity of his situation; this was not normal, not in the fucking slightest. Some part of him had known it all along, but being forced to confront the evil, twisted nature of what was being done to him sent him spiraling into a pit of despair. His resistance came back with a vengeance, and he was met with more brutality than he'd ever imagined. Even still, he remained silent and withdrew even further into his own dark world where there was no light or future to look to.
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As he became older and turned 16, some part of him reckoned that he would not live to see adulthood. Milo reasoned, that in view of his current circumstances, that his step-father would either accidentally or intentionally kill him, or he'd die on his own terms. There was simply no way, according to him, that he would get old enough to escape this Though he preferred the thought of the latter, going out on his own free will and with his consent; something that he was frequently robbed of in his every day life, he never had the guts to do it. Dying young became something of a dream for him, it sounded more grand than the Garden of Eden considering the world he found himself living in. The notion of simply ceasing to be was something that he grew to accept with something close to fondness; like it was an old friend.
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The only things that made him even close to happy in those days was music, singing, and his only friend; another boy named Jericho. Jericho, or Jeri as Milo would call him, was everything Milo wasn't. He was warm, friendly, outgoing, and seemed at peace with who he was as a person, a stark contrast to the self loathing and withdrawn Milo. Jeri meant more to Milo than he could've ever expressed, he was one of the first people that the raven ever trusted enough to sing in front of or show his writings to; and Jericho's support and friendship gave Milo the will to carry on...even though it didn't seem like it at times. There were many precious days in their time together that he held near and dear to his heart. Evenings at Jeri's house, watching movies, playing board games, getting into trouble; getting the freedom to just be young and new to the world. The luxury of getting to sleep at night without having to worry about footsteps down the hallway or leaving his room. The 3AM vent sessions they had about their troubles, classmates, and Jeri's dreams of college and adulthood. They were, what Milo would've considered to be brothers of sorts, some part of the raven even wondered if he'd grown to love Jericho in a way other than a friend...yet he never was brave enough to confess or act on it. What if he was grossed out and left? Considering the times, Milo didn't favor the odds of such an endeavor and opted to stay silent about his feelings. Yet still he trusted the other boy with his life, though not with his worst secret and he went above and beyond to keep the horrendous nature of his home life away from his friend. It was the least he could do for him considering how supportive and uplifting the other boy had always been. However, unfortunately, Milo's friendship with him would be put to a test that it had no hope of passing soon enough.
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He'd managed to carry on with his life as it was, even making it to his 17th birthday without so much as a lax in the abuse from his step-father. If anything, it seemed worse because he was "almost old enough", as his abuser so eloquently put it. The nights became worse than ever with his mother's change in work shifts and exhaustion soon began to overtake him, pushing him to his absolute limits both mentally and physically. For a time, he gave in, he couldn't fight and take the beatings and cruelty that came as a consequence; it especially haunts him now that he was broken down this much. Though he held on, clinging on to some foolish notion that once he turned 18, everything would magically stop. He was so close to turning 18, that the possibility of him seeing adulthood became more real, his dream of dying before then began to fade slowly into the background; though it wasn't replaced with a will to live either. Perhaps he could've held out until he was 18 and then everything would've been fine, had a knock not come on their front door that fateful evening.
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Given that he was no stranger to movies, Milo's heart sank almost as soon as he saw the two police officers when he opened the door. It was a rare night that his step-father "didn't feel like it" and he'd spent most of the evening hiding away in his room, praying to not hear footsteps coming down the hallway. Though given the news he received, he would've taken that a thousand times over instead of what happened. His mother was gone, killed in a head on collision due to a drunk driver, she died instantly. The sensation of shock was so intense, that at first he didn't believe what he was hearing, how could his mother just be gone? Just like that? Seeing this, the officers suggested that he stay home while his step-father be taken to the morgue to identify his mother's body; or what was left of it at least. It was only when his abuser was safely out of the home did the reality of what had just happened, as well as what this meant for him, sink in. There would be no more reprieve, no more few hours of peace while his mother was home and a wake. There would be no one around anymore that his abuser would have to be careful around. He saw the writing on the proverbial wall, the future filled with pain that likely had no escape, and all at once he found his will to fight for himself. Though his first instinct was the wrong one, which he had no way of knowing at the time. In a flurry of panic and exhaustion, he called Jericho and told him the full breadth of everything, the abuse, his mother's death, and the future that awaited him, in the hopes that his friend would do something. It was his first and only time reaching out for help, yet it fell on deaf and unsympathetic ears. Much to his surprise, instead of the support he expected to get, he was berated and called disgusting for making up such things. There was simply no way that his kind step-father, an officer of the law, would ever do such a thing, and that Milo was just horrible and probably deserved anything that happened to him. With a click, his best and only friend dealt him a heavy blow and effectively ruled himself out as his only remaining support system. Perhaps some divine power intervened then and told him what to do, his grief was so immense that he hardly registered stealing the money out of his mother's safe, the combination being his birthday-
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In a numb daze, he called a cab, taking only a hairbrush, toothbrush, toothpaste, his wallet, and around $800 in cash in his schoolbag to the airport. He didn't have a plan of where to go, simply picking the furthest place from where he was then, which happened to be Tokyo, Japan. By some stroke of dumb luck, he managed to get a last minute flight there and not be questioned by anyone the entire way there. He sat in silence the entire flight, still unable to process the fact that he'd truly lost everything he'd ever cared for. There was no home to go back to, his grandparents were far too old to help him, his friend blamed him and called him a liar all at once, and his mother was gone like dust. He couldn't figure out why he'd done what he did, why he'd run instead of just taking his own life; it's something he still couldn't explain if it was ever brought up. It was as though he'd just refused to give in at that moment, he'd determined that his story wouldn't end here and that his life would be more than one tragedy after another. Perhaps it was his love of music that kept him alive, if he was dead he couldn't be around to enjoy it or make something of himself with it. He knew no Japanese at the time, so the idea of what to do when he got off of the plane wasn't something that even remotely entered his mind. Time flew by and ran like water then, and before he knew it he was standing in the middle of a shady motel somewhere in Tokyo without the foggiest idea of what he was going to do. He couldn't go back, there was nothing there for him anymore in America; he didn't even want to know what sort of hell awaited him there. It was then that the raven went to look out the window at the city, filled with lights, it's tiny sections and cracked concrete; in that moment it was better than the Garden of Eden to him. More filled with hope for his future than any fabled place could've ever given him. It was only then that he allowed himself to break down under the weight of everything, collapsing in front of the window and completely losing it in the glow of this strange place.
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Although it was almost 4 years ago now, he still remembers this night vividly. In his eyes, its the night that he truly began to know what it felt like to have hope. He was determined not to go back to the life he'd been living, he wouldn't be someone's plaything or toy to beat up when they felt like it. After a year of struggling, applications and rejections, stealing to make his money last longer, and then being put out onto the street for a month, he finally managed to land himself a job working at a ramen booth for the night hours at the age of 18. He still isn't quite sure how or why he was picked, but if whatever deity was out there wanted to send him a blessing, he wouldn't ask why it was sent. Slowly but surely, he managed to build himself a life of sorts, learning Japanese, getting himself a tiny studio apartment in a questionable district, and working towards a citizenship. Nobody ever found out how or why he'd come to be there, it was something that he liked about the owner of this booth; he didn't pry nor ask questions he didn't want to know the answer to. After a year and a half, he managed to obtain a citizenship and complete what was left of his high school education. Turns out that Milo is a pretty good worker and quick learner when he's able to get enough sleep and isn't under constant stress.
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For all intents and purposes, his life went on a dramatic upswing. Now that he was free to simply work strange hours, he decided to pour his soul into his writing and perfection of it, his vocals have aged like wine. Milo is far away from the nightmare that he once lived, he's free from that part at least. Now all he has left to deal with is the after effects.