Leslie Forsythe

Face-up artist(s):

Ephemeral Skin

Body blushing artist(s):

Chthonic_Song

Tattoo artist(s):

Chthonic_Song

Provenance:

Head purchased secondhand on DoA from Byakko
Body ordered directly from Granado

Reason for choice:

b e e f c a k e

Wig:

Alice’s Collections

Favourite colours:

denim, chocolate, slate

Fashion style(s):

American western

Key fashion accessory:

Cowboy hat

Character age:

38

Character gender:

Cis man

Offsite roleplay:

This doll's character is not available for offsite roleplay.

Leslie’s grandfather was in the Navy, Leslie’s father was in the Navy, and sure enough, Leslie was in the Navy. With a knack for direction and physics, Lez worked his way to the rank of Quartermaster - modernly, the navigator of the ship. It was his duty to direct the course of the ship, and with nearly fifteen years of service under his belt, Leslie was well on his way to perfection of his craft.

And then he tripped over the lip of a watertight door and tore his ACL.
Oops.
It healed poorly, stuck Leslie with a permanent limp, and earned him a medical discharge with a nice little pension. Though he wasn’t aware of all the cosmic brownie points he’d accumulated with the Charioteer, Lez did understand that being sent back home to Wyoming was boring as fuck when you’re used to being a professional Uber for the Marines (hardy-har, Seth). Retirement was miserable, and a new job was in order. Something with lots of travel, and ferrying something from place to place, and didn’t require going back to school. He was pushing forty, as country as cornbread, and screw sitting in a classroom.

Truck driver? Truck driver.

Leslie traded his sea legs for a rig, and set traversing the great American expanse in the name of shipping goods. It was monotonous but fulfilling - up until he made roadkill out of a... something? A chupacabra? Some sort of cryptid? Whatever it was, it was horrifying and Lez intelligently decided that he was going to forget all about it. The cosmos, of course, had other ideas.