Allen Stevens

{“Welcome to the Red Maple Motel. Please don’t break anything.”}

General

Full Name: Allen Stevens
Nicknames: None
Gender: Male
Pronouns: He, Him, His
Birthday: April 1st
POB: Ivywood, Vermont
Sexual Orientation: Pansexual {too busy to care honestly}
Spirit Animal: Cockroach
Accent: American

Drinks: Frequently
Smokes: Sometimes
Drugs: Whatever he finds that’s left over at the motel

Body

Body Type: Average to slightly lean, most of his working out consists of cleaning and moving bodies around so nothing spectacular
Height: 6’0
Hair: Dirty blonde, typically kept short on the sides and a bit long on top; occasionally has facial hair from scruff to a small beard
Eyes: Dark blue
Skin: Fair, a few moles and freckles around
Scars: Frequently has paper cuts
Tattoos: None
Piercings: None
Scent: Bleach and eucalyptus

Face Claim: Dan Stevens

Personality

General Personality: +friendly, +helpful, +jack of all trades, -easily agitated, -exhausted, -delusional

Bio: One would think someone would have had to have a pretty messed up childhood to be okay with cleaning up dead bodies at least a couple times a month. Surprisingly enough, at least in Allen’s situation, that wasn’t the case. He grew up with a mother and father who loved him and cared for him like a mother and father should. They owned the Ivywood’s most popular motel where Allen somehow never experienced any traumatic sightings in his childhood and just had a fun time running around all of the different rooms. It was like his parents owned a castle. Allen got normal grades, made plenty of friends, didn’t face any real bullying. Just…a normal type of guy? Your average Joe. He always did enjoy things being clean but not in an obsessive or compulsive way, just a preference of sorts. Other than that, he was happy, content, and had his whole future ahead of him.
His aspirations were limited, as all Allen really valued was being happy, so when he turned 18 and his parents told him they were going to move down to Florida, he eagerly overtook their motel business. The Red Maple Motel of Ivywood. It was an honor in his eyes to carry on his parents’ legacy and continue to provide residence to the people who lived in and visited the small town. Running the motel seemed simple enough, Allen had watched his parents do it his entire life and had never seen them have any troubles or issues before beyond occasional squatters that were easily dealt with. Allen truly believed Ivywood was a good town with good people and nothing could go wrong.
On his first night taking care of the motel by himself, he found his first dead body. It was in room 13, Allen going to clean it up as the last resident had just checked out earlier that day and there was a strange stench coming from the outside of the room every time he walked by it and didn’t want to wait till the next day for the maid service he hired to come clean it up. The first thing Allen did when he saw the body was throw up which didn’t really make the room smell anymore pleasant. He also might have briefly passed out at the sight of blood but he was awoken quickly when the stench hit his nose again. The panic was rising in him. Who would do this? Who would kill someone and just leave it? Wasn’t it obvious they were going to get caught? Allen had all the records of the people who stayed in the motel and the sheriff’s number at his fingertips. However, Allen called his parents first, hoping they’d help calm him down a bit and he was introduced to their business, their REAL business. Allen’s parents explained rather plainly that the way they were able to make so much money and keep their lives nice and peachy was through the backdoor business they had. Yes, they ran a motel, a motel specifically advertised to shady deals, prostitutes, and criminals of all sorts. It was a word of mouth business and it was Allen’s turn to receive the word. His mother and father sounded so…nonchalant over the phone, encouraging how they believed in him to continue their legacy as he felt his mind spinning and world crumbling around him. He freaked out, screaming how he was going to call the police and his parents…laughed? Laughed and said if he did that, whoever killed the man in room 13 would come after him. And then they hung up. And Allen threw up once again.
Learning his whole life was a lie that night, Allen cleaned up the blood in the room, disposed of the body by rolling it up in the rug and driving out into the woods with it bury it, throwing up a few more times between all of that, and went back to the motel to sleep it off, hoping that maybe this was all some sick dream of his. But it wasn’t. And now, Allen has been stuck running the motel for murder since then. He was still friendly and cheery when he could be, though he was more…on edge, looking behind himself all the time, jittery, was set off easier. Allen had never done drugs before but the first time he found left over lines of cocaine in a bathroom he was cleaning up, he felt compelled to do them. So now he was also a bit of an addict. Great.
And even though it had been years, he never did get used to the blood.

Habits: Chewing on bottom lip
Phobias: Blood {yes, it does interfere with his job frequently}
Likes: Clean carpet, cocaine, aquariums, breakfast food
Dislikes: Dead bodies, early mornings, getting sick, rats
Turn ons: Shower sex, blindfolds, overstimulation
Dom/Sub: Top leaning/switch, submissive leaning/versatile

Family

Father: Rodney Stevens – happy, friendly, loving parent, ran a murder motel with his wife for the majority of his life, criminal, now relaxing with millions in Florida
Mother: Miranda Stevens – happy, friendly, loving parent, ran a murder motel with her husband for the majority of her life, criminal, now relaxing with millions in Florida

Song: The Queen of White Lies – The Orion Experience

Appearance: