Physically, the average Ethan is built
like a dropped
lasagna: wide, confused, and oddly
dense. They seem to possess their own gravitational pull — not metaphorically, but in the very real sense that small objects left unattended might begin to orbit them. While they claim a devotion to combat
sports involving heavily padded fists and dramatic grunting, their physique suggests significantly more experience with buffet lines than training lines. Every Ethan insists he's "in a cutting phase," yet somehow stays permanently in bulk mode.
Ethan's
aesthetic is a wild card: usually sporting an unbrushed curtain of shoulder-length hair that looks like it’s been soaked in gym sweat and
regret, but occasionally opting for a sudden buzzcut. This transformation is often accompanied by declarations
like “new me” or “just focusing on the
grind,” which last about as long as their latest attempt at meal prepping.
Colorblindness is a recurring Ethan trait, tragically evident in their wardrobe — a chaotic blend of camouflage, neon accents, and gym merch that looks like it was selected in a blackout. Emotionally, Ethans are deeply invested in energy drink flavors, YouTube fight commentary, and their belief that they could have gone pro if they hadn’
t “tweaked something in their shoulder back in high school.”
