<div class="floatleft">(https://image.ibb.co/kMDRQ6/muscular-metalhead.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Devon Daniels (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=308599.msg15007879#msg15007879)<br/><strong>Age:</strong>28<br/><strong>Sexuality:</strong>Heterosexual<br/><strong>Hometown:</strong>New York City<br/><strong>Date/Time:</strong>1 July, 2019<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Villa backyard<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong>Black leather jacket, sunglasses (https://i.ebayimg.com/images/g/bDwAAOSw2gxYrZs7/s-l300.jpg), denim jeans, black boots, and a DTP Ziltoid t-shirt (https://cdn.shopify.com/s/files/1/0110/6296/8401/products/5c403ba1fc683c57845ae7c0-original_1024x1024@2x.jpg?v=1564756720)<br/><strong>Coupled with:</strong>Cleo Balleta<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Cleo | All Islanders | Open<br/><br/><hr/><br/>It was quite a parade of characters after Devon’s arrival. He stood in his spot, hands in his pockets, chewing his gum as he gazed at the different men and women coming in. The first one (Logan) was certainly the quiet sort, but had the looks that could pull it off. When a man was handsome like that but spoke little, women would often project the fantasy of “mystery” onto him. In the end, he was just a guy. Devon didn’t mind that, though. To him, Logan was forgettable.<br/><br/>The fiery redhead, on the other hand, sure made her presence known. Overly enthusiastic is certainly how he’d describe her. Nevertheless, he smirked at her heels, even if the spikes looked like they were designed for the bad guy from Super Mario Bros. It was her comment on his shirt that truly arched his eyebrow, though.<br/><br/>"Nice shirt!  You ever heard<em>'The Boys Are Back In Town'</em>by Thin Lizzy?"<br/><br/>Devon couldn’t suppress the chuckle from her words. A band that wasn’t on the current Billboard Top 40! That was better than he’d have assumed from just about any contestant that would be on here.<br/><br/>“I mean, I have seen Toy Story,” he replied, though the comment was swiftly swallowed up by her attention to their hostess. He was starting to wonder if she was just an endless bundle of energy as she then asked how everyone was doing. No one had a chance to reply before the doors opened once more, and… well, speaking as a bartender, the fellow (Owen) sure looked as if he could use a drink. Another man of few words, he seemed unreasonably nervous despite the fit shape he was in. The loose button of his denim shirt? Yeah, that bit of cheese caused Devon to grin in amusement. The grin was swiftly replaced with an expression of near disbelief, however, as the next guy came in. Once more he lowered his sunglasses, but more to see if this guy (Johnny) was for real.<br/><br/><em>Your name is now finger-guns,</em>the metalhead thought to himself. The man was so clearly fake and artificial, the sort that pretended to be the life of the party that would show women a life of adventure, that the only surprise was the<em>absence</em>of finger-guns. If he was somehow able to keep it up long enough to get married, he’d become so boring his new wife would inevitably start giving it up to the mailman just so she could<em>feel</em>something again. This guy was the sort of New Jersey trash that washed up on New York’s streets all the time, lookin’ to score sexy girls and then discard them in the gutter. It was written in that smile, in those awful lines, and the forced amount of energy required to pretend he was the most interesting man in the world.<br/><br/>He replaced his shades as the man extended his hand to the others, pretending to be good-natured, but Devon didn’t trust a single second of it. He just shrugged and resumed chewing his gum. “Not my hand, man,” he said. “I got the curse of the gypsy, I’ll bring you bad luck.” He flashed his teeth in a big grin, just as artificial as the man’s before he looked back to the door for the next entrant.<br/><br/>Devon’s jaw went slack, any genuine or artificial smile wiped off his face as he watched Captain America (Terry) run on in wearing nothing but a pair of swim shorts. American flag swim shorts.<em>Should I call you Steve Rogers or Trump?</em>he contemplated, though he’d honestly have to find out what sort of fellow he really was. At the very least, his enthusiasm was sincere. So he was already one point towards Steve, as opposed to Finger-guns over there.<br/><br/>The metal contestant ran a hand through his hair, suppressing a sigh of disappointment in his fellow men. Granted, they weren’t all bad, but none of them were just…<em>real</em>, man. That is, until the next fellow (Corey)  stepped up. Devon smiled once again, but only because he saw the type all too well.<em>You’re Gilligan,</em>his brain chirped. It was not an insult at all, as the bartender from New York had seen plenty of fellows just like him. Stepping out of their comfort zone, wanting to try something new, but held back by all the questions and doubts that plagued him. Many of which were put upon him by society. The same thing that told Silent Haircut down the line that he’d look better if he resembled every other male model in a copy of Cosmo was now telling this kid that he couldn’t measure up.<br/><br/>All these types needed was a proper guide. A Gandalf, if you will, to introduce them to some music with<em>real</em>testicles, get them some kick-ass leather jackets and butt-whipping boots. Soon enough they developed enough confidence to become some of New York’s Most Wanted Pussy Slayers.<em>Oh yes, Frodo, Gandalf shall reveal unto you the secret to mad pussy slaying.</em><br/><br/>After that seemingly endless parade of penis, a woman finally stepped through the doors (Rhonda). She looked to be dressed in a nightgown disguised as a dress, one that showcased her flesh nicely. She was quiet, however, and didn’t really stand out beyond her nice looking rack. She could be cool, but she could be relying on her tits because there was nothing else to her. Stepping in after her was another fellow, looking awfully generic himself aside from that crewcut on his head.<br/><br/><em>You’re Jarhe-</em><br/><br/>“Hello everyone, I'm James.”<br/><br/>...huh. Dude actually introduced himself. Come to think of it, Devon never introduced<em>him</em>self. Just took it for granted, what with the names written on these totally lame heart pillows and all. He hadn’t even been keeping track of what each woman was named. Well, guess this guy’s name was James, and that was that! So we had Silent Haircut, Quiet Muscle, Finger-guns, Captain Trumperica, Gilligan, and James.<br/><br/>Yeah, that worked.<br/><br/>The next woman (Cleo) announced herself by immediately calling attention to the hot tub and pool, a potential tactic to get the male guests envisioning her in a bathing suit. Or, she could simply be interested in taking a dip! Yet the tactically placed “rips” in her dress indicated she was interested in showing off, and boy howdy did she have a posterior to be shown off.<em>And your name is badonkadonk,</em>he grinned internally. Almost immediately after came another woman, a blonde number this time wearing… were those overalls? Pure denim overalls? Huh, that’s kind of co-<br/><br/><strong>"Hi! How are y’all doing?"</strong><br/><br/>Oh God, at best she listens to Kid Rock…<br/><br/>The final entrant finally stepped forward, and she… well, aside from the Aussie accent, she was just kind of… plain. Which wasn’t always a bad thing. Leather jacket and a white t-shirt, with a cute enough face but absolutely<em>nothing</em>to indicate what her real personality was. He'd seen plenty of her come into the bar, and they came in all flavors of personality. He'd need an actual conversation to determine what she was like, and unfortunately he didn't have that kind of time.<br/><br/>As Caroline explained the rules of the game -- even though they’d already been briefed on the proceedings -- his eyes scanned the different women. He had to step forward, huh? Well, that’s the impression they gave, but if he wanted he could just stand there and step forward for no one. It would certainly mark him as a rebel, and if he wanted to get booted off the island as soon as possible that was the best choice. But while Devon really didn’t want to be here, he didn’t want to just go home without trying, either. After all, what fun would it be to the guys back home if he didn't at least raise some Hell, eh?<br/><br/><em>Guess it’s you, Red,</em>he thought to himself. She had engaged directly with him, and brought up a band that wasn’t actually horrible. Not to his taste, but certainly an inspiration to later metal bands that would arise. So even if it was the most radio-played of their tracks, it was<em>something</em>, which was more than any other girl in the line-up was able to really offer him in terms of appeal to personality. Plus, koopa shoes!<br/><br/>So he observed as Platinum head, Grace, stepped forward first. She had given no real indication of personality before, but he had also arrived after her. The cost of arriving first, he supposed. Now she seemed the shy and nervous type, which is why his mouth spread into a wide grin when she chose Gilligan.<em>Hell yeah! Got your Mary-Ann already!</em>he thought, his applause genuine. He was shocked, actually, at how the two looked together.<em>Worry not, young padawan</em>, he thought in Yoda's voice,<em>Ways of the force I will teach you.</em><br/><br/>Then came the whoo girl, who had continued to go whoo, and who was evidently named Elsa. She certainly had a nice body, and her personality was certainly…<em>whoo</em>... but seeing the other fellows that stepped forward? Not a lot of variety between 'em from Devon's perspective, but maybe he'd get a sense of her real taste in a man.<br/><br/>...and it was<em>the worst possible taste she could have picked</em>. His jaw went so slack the gum nearly fell out. She bought it. She bought the facade hook, line, and sinker. She chose the most artificial of the lot.<em>Whelp, have fun with that,</em>he thought, turning back to the row of women and resuming his gum chewing. Next was it. Red. The only woman he’d be stepping forward for. This would be her moment of truth. So he stepped forward, his smile still on his face as he tossed his hair back, and watched her approach…<br/><br/>...and then veer away and hand her heart cushion to Quiet Muscle instead. “Oh ho ho!” he said, eyes crunched tightly shut but his mouth spread in a smile. He said nothing more, but everything about that move just told him he took a chance on a<em>cruel</em>one. Intentionally misdirecting everyone like that, an effort to play with his heart as she played the camera... yeah, he gave her a chance, and she flopped it so hard.<br/><br/><em>Too bad, Red,</em>he thought, and stepped back in place. At least he wasn’t Finger-Guns.<br/><br/>For a moment he reconsidered his stance to step forward for only one girl, but as his eyes reviewed who remained, he realized that the only other one that gave<em>any</em>sort of potential compatible vibe was the last one. The Plain Jane. So, may as well stick to his guns and be the last one chosen. He watched as the next woman, Rhonda in the Fancy Nightgown, stepped forward and nervously selected Silent Haircut.<br/><br/>The real shock came for Cleo, however. He looked to the other guys, and even those remaining failed to step forward.<em>What the Hell?</em>He turned back towards her and almost stepped forward. This must have been humiliating for her. True, the other girls had already chosen plenty of fellows, but there were what, two others left? Did Captain America and James seriously not want some of that badonkadonk? What the Hell were their factors of choice that made her undesirable?<em>Dude, step forward, don't let her be humiliated,</em>one half of him said.<em>Wouldn't it be just as humiliating to her if the only reason you stepped forward was pity?</em><br/><br/>Fuck.<br/><br/>So he stood his ground, feeling like a heel. He followed her movements as she walked down the line, and... stopped before him.<br/><br/><strong>"You shouldn't be so quick to judge a book by it's cover.. I'm sure you wouldn't mind hearing about the stories I have of all the metal concerts I had to go with my older brother to. The guys from Morbid Angel and Testament have both babysat me when I was 8 or 9 and my older brother played on stage with his band in the Philippines."</strong><br/><br/>Devon couldn't help but smile and chuckle as he took hold of the heart, listening to those words of hers.<em>Citation needed,</em>he thought to himself.<em>Fucking members of Morbid Angel and Testament were too damn old and taking care of their own grand-kids when you were 8 or 9.</em>He was skeptical over the facts of her story, but hey, she at least<em>knew</em>'em. It's possible her older brother<em>did</em>play on stage. However, she also said that she<em>had</em>to go to those concerts with her older brother, meaning it wasn't by choice. She had knowledge, but did she have taste?<br/><br/>These thoughts flashed by in a couple of seconds, but the smile never left his face. He was a rebel, but he didn't want to step on her heart by calling her a liar<em>after</em>she just had no one step forward for her. He wasn't going to give the cameras the satisfaction of that drama. So, instead, he playfully gnawed on the heart cushion with a snarl before pulling it away, with an "I'm just kidding" chuckle.<br/><br/>"Can't say you're wrong about the cover judging," he said, tossing the cushion in the air and catching it as he offered his other arm for her to wrap hers around. "Lookin' forward to pickin' your brain."<br/><br/>He then looked up at Caroline and gave a nod, as if to say<em>Yeah, I'm cool with this. Let's keep rolling.</em>