Karl "Trash Master" Magnusson

Name: Karl "Trash Master" Magnusson
Age: 24
Eyes: Green
Hair: Black
Height: 6'
Weight: 170lbs
Race: Human
Ethnicity: Swedish
Gender: Soft masculine male
Sexuality: Bisexual (Prefers masculine or soft masculine men)

Profession:

Bassist for hire.

Distinguishing marks:#

Has a tattoo of the lyrics "Rebel Rebel" on his right forearm.

Pets:

Has a pet male Scarlet Kingsnake called Våg which means "Scales."

Abilities/talents:

Karl can play the bass guitar, acoustic, piano and drums. As well as his musical talent he can also cut hair pretty well being an amateur barber, often tidying up his band mate's hair when needed. He likes to make and paint little miniature fantasy models in his spare time too. Karl is also an expert at playing video games, often beating his opponents with his dexterous fingers and quick eye.

Personality:

Karl is the life and soul of the party, often loud, crude and full of energy. He wears himself down with doing as much drink, drugs and fucking as he can fit into his hectic life. Being a bass player he often likes to live up the rock star lifestyle, getting into trouble and being a rebel. At heart he is a kind soul who loves to make new friends, helping those around him and wouldn't think twice about putting himself on the line for those he cares about. He can often be stubborn, impatient, act rashly and has childish naivety to life unlike his older brother. Beneath all the showy behaviour is a young man with a passion for life and likes to bring optimism to those around him.

Background:

Karl grew up in the Swedish city of Göteborg or Gothenburg and grew up as the youngest brother out of three older brothers; Johan, Ivar and Sigurd. Being the most unruly of the brothers at a young age, Karl often got into trouble with his peers and wasn't much of a good student at school.

He tended to play truant and just chill out with his friends, playing pranks on passersby in the street or doing crazy stunts in his spare time. Drink and drugs soon entered into it during his later teen years and he got arrested a few times. His parents were ready to give up on Karl until he eventually quit school and began an apprenticeship at a local barber in his town. It was something to keep him off the streets and out of trouble and earn money at the same time, yet it wasn't what he wanted to do for the rest of his life.

The one thing the kept Karl grounded and focused was music. He loved the bass guitar and followed the latest rock acts to come out of Sweden and neighbouring Finland, Denmark and Norway. Glam rock was his scene and at the age of seventeen got his first guitar which he had to save up money for at barber job since his parents refused to pay for it due to their youngest son's rebellious behaviour.

This was fine with him since he then left home at eighteen to join a local glam metal band which took off with flying colours. Becoming bassist was his dream and he hadn't looked back since.


Special people:

Older Brother: Sigurd basmastare

Sigurd was half sighing and pinching his nose as he looked out through the bus window at the LA scenery. Maybe this was a huge fucking mistake inviting his trashy brother along to the tour. Karl had messaged Sigurd a few days ago saying he was swinging by LA to do a tour with some of his friends. Them being fellow musicians. He said they were touring with him for a few weeks and then going to New York. So this would give Karl time to split from his friends and join the tour instead of flying straight back to Sweden.

Now, it was time for Karl to meet up with Sigurd and the tour bus because he couldn't not invite his brother along because that would be cold. The bassist was strict and a little harsh but he loved Karl and knew he'd enjoy meeting the other musicians, even if the man was drunken, crazy trash. Was he dating that stripper from that bar in Stockholm still? Or was it that car cleaner boy from the countryside? Who knew. Sigurd couldn't keep up with his brother's love interests because Karl slept around a lot. He lived the rock star life of sex, drugs and rock 'n roll. Literally. Sigurd liked to think he was the more responsible of the brothers.

A few heavy knocks to the bus door had Sigurd pull himself out of his day dream as he realised his smoke had gone out in the ashtray on the table. Oh god. Was it Karl? Had he arrived already? It was late in the evening and Sigurd could hear the tell tale sign of a bottle rolling around beneath someone's foot outside. Was he drunk?

Fuck.

"Hey!---Anyone home? Is this the old people party bus? Where are the strippers and hookers?"

There was a loud drunken voice outside as Karl was now downing whiskey from the pack of bottles he'd bought at the local 24/7 store. Sigurd knew that voice and internally swore. Karl was here and he was trashed. Of course he was.