Kenneth Phelps

I JUST SAW A KENNTH X SAL EDIT ON NY FUCKING FYP AND IT WAS SPECIFICALLY SAL WHEN HE WAS SHOOT (like 4-7) PLEASE GET OUT IM SO SCAREF I ACTUALLY STARTED CRYING BC WTF

Travis shoved past the shorter boy in an attempt to avoid him, it was already bad enough that they had math together, why’d he have to see him outside of class? Bright blue pigtails didn’t exactly make him hard to miss, but it was a pain for Travis, ever since that day in the bathroom it’s been harder to escape the bluenett and the feelings he brought with him. The way he dressed didn’t make him fit in anymore, spiky boots or flowy dresses that were disgustingly alluring were often his go-to, it made Travis sick. No man should dress that revoltingly and still act proud. The ringing of the bell caught him off guard, shoving through the rush of students to get to his next class.

His first class of the day was English, he didn’t mind the subject, some may even say he was good at it, but he hated the work. Every year they just taught the same lesson and made the essays longer. He had a B, almost a C, held up by a poetry book assigned last week. The words spitting out of his teacher's mouth, and before he knew it a paper skimmed over his desk, hitting his chest promptly. The words on top read, ‘Pen pals’, some of the class groaned in frustration at the assignment while others were calm or even excited by the prospect of meeting new people. Travis was just annoyed, he never liked meeting new people since he was a kid, still having memories of hiding behind his mother during church, gripping onto her flowy skirt, nuzzling his then brown hair into her leg. Pretending not to notice the warm voice of the strangers cooing his name, but everyone has to grow up eventually, he learned the hard way once his mother left, once his protection left.

“Now” Mrs.Bailey started to speak “Everyone will be randomly assigned a partner from Mr. Lee’s class, you are not to sign the page, nor will you tell them your real name, however, fake names are fine. I will not read over your letters but I do suggest making them school-appropriate.” The bruised boy rolled his eyes and put his head on his desk. “Now” the blond woman began, “Your letter will be sent on Thursday, you can work on it after school but please don’t worry about proper grammar too much, that's not what you’ll be graded on-” at this point, Travis had begun to tune her out, scribbling his name in messy rushed cursive atop the page before scribbling it out after remembering the rules.

‘Hello’ Too formal ‘hey” too casual ‘nice to meet you’ they weren’t meeting but it’ll have to do, ‘you’ll be addressing me as M.P’ Too demanding, ‘Call me M.P’ Too laid-back, ‘My name’s M.P” There, naturalish. ‘I like to attend church and write, what about you?’ Mrs. Bailey didn’t say it had to be long, just a letter, plus, there wasn’t much to say about himself anyways, well, not anything he’d want someone to hear…

The bell screeched in his ears signifying it was time for PE. PE had always been a pain, running till his lungs burned, changing with other boys, and seeing Todd Morrison. Flaunting his sinful pride around with pins like the rest of his freak friends, it was truly sickly. Nevertheless, he dragged his feet across the cement hallways and into the lockers, Travis tried his best to stare at the ground, but sometimes he’d take shameful quick glances at the other boys. He knew deep down it was wrong, that no matter how many times he repented he would do it again. Mr. Tucker had made Travis sit out for running day because of his “asthma”, he had no trouble breathing, usually. The worst part was that he had to sit out with Todd, though Todd didn’t seem to care it rattled Travis. Todd looked like a normal guy, dressed average, nose always buried in a book, today’s book being some physics book, the only thing that stood out was his orange hair.

“Hello Travis,” Todd said quietly, Travis thought they both silently agreed to stay quiet, but it seemed the redhead didn’t get the memo.

“Hey… What are you reading?” Travis wanted to punch himself for trying to make conversation with a homo.

“'Quantum Field Theory for the Gifted Amateur' by Tom Lancaster and Stephen J. Blundell” The advage-looking boy replied as Travis nodded, not understanding most of the words fully. Once the bell rang Travis quickly pushed himself into the locker room, avoiding socializing as much as possible had always been the goal, yet, he always seemed to fail.

Now it was time for the worst class of the day, math. The subject was hard, the teacher was bitchy, but worst of all, Sal was there, dressed in a light pink knee-high dasiy-covered dress, white tights, and white Converses, matched with his blue hair in a braid to match the look. This was going to be a long day.

Travis had never been good at math but he’d never been as bad as he was in high school. He always blamed Sal, he was always there, ever since that dumbass moved here they've had math class together. Travis liked to blame most things on Sal, how he couldn’t focus in math, his yelling, his short temper, and most importantly, the one he would never admit aloud, his recent lack of faith. Sal was a test from god himself, though, despite being from god, he certainly wasn’t anything near a saint. Blue eyes and feminine traits that lured him into the devil, it was sickly, Sal had to be a curse, that would be the only reason god would make someone like him.

Travis's “deep” thoughts were soon interrupted by the swish of a paper landing on his desk, a note to go to the school counselor, he hated her office, it was off-puttingly welcoming and she always asked about his father, but it was better than 50 minutes with Sal Fisher. The blond stood up and began packing his stuff, though there wasn’t much to put away anyway.

The dark-skinned boy took long strides across the halls, he has always had his mother’s height from a young age, and it inraged Kenneth most times. His little weight on his body was spread out due to his height, making his bones visible when his shirt was removed. He stood in front of the pink-painted door with rainbow broader, he always hated it, he considered just leaving as a solution before regretting pushing open the door. The room had light pink walls and a white carpet that was surprisingly unstained, white wood shelves filled with house plants, and pictures of a family. In the middle of the room was a light tan desk with two pink seats on one side and a white office chair on the other. There seated Elizabeth Andrews, the school counselor, she was in her mid-30s but looked younger. Her pale painted fingers tapped lightly on the desk, and her black hair swished in the wind as she stared with far too welcoming blue eyes. Despite the uneasiness building up in his chest he quietly took a seat, refusing to look her in her eyes as she spoke.

“Hello Travis, I’m happy to see you,” Mrs.Andrews said sweaty, but even Travis, the most tone-deaf boy in the town, knew it was false.

“Agreed” Travis reposed bluntly with a small nod, once her blue eyes met his, he knew something was up. They didn’t hold the same probably fake happiness as usual, they looked concerned for once, it felt odd like he was being examined.

“Neil, from your father's ministry, called, he’s worried about you Travis… We all are,” She spoke softly as she placed her hand on his, just as his mother once would. “You constantly come to school with bruises and-”

“I don’t need your concern” Travis spoke harshly as he shooed her hand away. “I appreciate your hospitality but it is unneeded,” The woman straightened at the boy's words, she was in no way used to being pushed away.

“Travis, is there something going on at home?” She asked with a delict tone, watching the young man carefully for a falt in expression or a clue, receiving nothing but a sigh and a glare.

“For the last time Mrs.Andrews, everything is fine at home. I just get into a lot of fights with Johnson,” Travis spoke as bluntly as he had when others showed him pity, the waver in his voice unnoticeable, earning a small sigh from Mrs.Andrews as her brows drew together.

“I understand, you may head back to class,” She said, looking away with a drop of hurt in her eyes, but Travis was convinced, no, he knew, it was false. His black bookbag hit his back rigorously as he slammed the door shut, taking slow steps back to math, maybe if he did, the bell would ring before he arrived. But, just as with life nowadays, things didn’t go as planned. Spending 50 minutes with Sal Fisher was the worst part of his day, even having it cut to 35 didn’t help, not when Sal was sitting there giggling with the girl beside him.

The clock seemed to be ticking in slow motion at this point, it had only been 12 minutes and it felt like an eternity. The numbers on his worksheet had become scribbles in his brain, he couldn’t even wrap his brain around why there were letters in his math homework. Math was a man-made atrocity in his eyes, a work of Satan himself. He knew it wasn’t true, but it made him feel less stupid when the correct answer was 87 inches squared and he got 45 millimeters. He never dared to raise his hand to answer a question, or even to let himself be called on.

Travis was often cold, his body didn’t regulate temperature well, he had no fat on his bones to keep him warm during winter and he just didn’t handle heat well. It most certainly didn’t help that his assigned seat was right next to the air conditioner. He had been offered to sit near Sal, far away, under the heater, but Travis refused every time it was presented. He had to stay as far away from Sal as possible, or else he’d taint him with sin, just the thought of being near him made his heart race and his breathing heavy, he was disgusting, sick, and worst of all he looked more like a girl then a boy, and yet, he was a boy. Travis didn’t understand, his thoughts, his feelings, the way the blue-haired boy made him suffer every night, feeling small and alone as he scribbled pointless words onto a paper. Hoping it would help remove the feelings, or at least help him understand what was wrong with him.

Hey

Im kinda stupid at times so ignore that lmao

Pansexual

Polyamorous

She/they

Likes:

Sally face, TBHK, my gfs, Hazbin hotel, welcome home, Salvis (fight me istg), Sonic memes, and probably more lmao-

I just spent probably an hour on Pinterest saving Sally face memes for no reason other than obsession- so ya!

Draco Malfoy = Travis Phelps

Hermione Granger = Todd Morris

Ron Weasley = Larry Johnson

Harry Potter = Sal Fisher

Ginny Weasley (or Cho...maybe Luna?) = Ashley Campbell

Neville Longbottom = Chug (maybe?)

Lucius Malfoy = Kenneth Phelps

Lord Voldemort/Tom Riddle = Red-eyed Demon

Sirius Black = Terrence Addison (?)

Death Eaters = D.O.G. Cult

Dementors = The residents of Addison Apartments that were infected

Peter Pettagrew (or Umbridge) (sorry if I misspelled-) = Ms. Packerton

Dobby = Megan Holmes (or Soda)

Severus Snape = (?)

Dumbledore = (?)

Lily and James Potter = Henry and Diane Fisher

Any suggetions?

Name: Zodiac Ann Phelps

Age: 22

DOB: August 13th

Family: Kenneth Phelps (Father) Travis Phelps (Younger Brother)

Sexuality: Lesbian

Likes: Her hair, dresses, and cookies.

Dislikes: Homophobes, Racists, Kenneth

Cause Of Death: Sexual abuse by Kenneth

Anyone who simps for Kenneth has serious issues. /srs

There, said it.

Theory 1: Kenneth likely married his way into the cult for power.

From Chapter 5 we learn that the original leader of the cult is Citlali Grey, a Native American woman. The cult was based around her tribe's beliefs and way of life. Due to Travis' skin color I believe he is probably Native American as well.

However, I believe Kenneth to be a non-Native who married a Native woman in the Grey tribe in order to gain power and take control of the cult.

My evidence is Travis himself. When talking to Travis in the bathroom stall as well as the other little interactions with him in Chapter 3, it is very clear that Travis believes in religion-based internalized homophobia. "God doesn't love you, why should I?" and "It's not the way a boy should feel. Shame swallows me whole. My father would kill me but I can't live in his shadow forever I just..." are both lines from Travis. I am only semi-familiar with Native American beliefs due to talking with two-spirited folk (an LGBT+ Indigenous identity), but homophobia is not something taught as a Native American belief. Individual Native Americans may be homophobic (just as anyone can be), but the idea of "the one and only God doesn't love the gays" is a belief stemmed from Christianity (though it's obvious not all Christians think so).

Going back to the line, "my father would kill me, but I can't live in his shadow" makes me believe that these homophobic ideas were pushed onto him by his father, Kenneth. The ghosts of Megan (who's parents were also cult members) who died by the hands of Kenneth, also carried with her a cross necklace - a symbol of Christianity.

Not to mention their names, Travis and Kenneth. The original leader of the cult as well as the one descendant we know of (Tala Grey) are both Native American names. Travis and Kenneth are obviously non-Native names.

Lastly, looking at Travis himself it seems that he is a mixed-race boy. The blond hair could very well be to follow the cartoony vibes of unnatural hair (with Sal's being blue and Chug's being green), but I don't believe it is too much a stretch to say that Travis got his blond hair from his dad.

Theory 2: So where's the mom?

Okay, so Travis may be mix-raced with a white dad and Native American mom. Who's the mom?

This one is still fuzzy to me.

I was thinking he could have married a random tribe member and then worked his way up to becoming the leader of the cult - but I really don't think it works that way.

Thinking about the time frame from when we met Tala Grey in Chapter 5, she was looking for her grandfather. Travis was 28 at the time, which would make Kenneth around grandfather-age. It's possible that Kenneth married Citlali Grey and then killed her (framing someone else for her death or maybe claiming it was a suicide) when he wanted to take power.

Since Tala's last name is Grey rather than Phelps, this would have to mean that Citlali had children with another man before. Perhaps Kenneth killed Citlali's husband so that there'd be an open spot for him to slither his way into the cult.

We know so little about Citlali Grey that I can't say I'm even 50% sure this is what happened, but it's worth throwing ideas out there. I'm going to have to go over the time frame a bit more.

Theory 3: How did the cult change after Citlali's death and Kenneth taking over it

I'm hoping it originally wasn't a cult at all and Steve didn't just totally forget to research Native American beliefs. I've seen quite a few Indigenous people discuss disappointment at Steve's portrayal of Native beliefs.

However, maybe the cult wasn't really a demon-summoning, world-destroying cult until Kenneth came into the story.

Understandibly so, when Native Americans form groups based on their own tribes beliefs they normally don't include non-Natives (unless they married someone in the tribe and were welcomed in like family). However, we see that the ghosts of the cult members are not only all white (or atleast pass as white) but also show signs of Christian / non-Native beliefs (back to Megan's cross necklace).

After Kenneth took charge and Citlali, he renamed the tribe to "The Devouerers Of God" and let go of the original Native beliefs all together and turned the tribe into something it wasn't supposed to be. He began letting non-Natives in while still using Native folk's concept of spirituality against them (to talk to spirits and demons).

If this is true, I think it makes up for a very interesting story as well as commentary on how often people participate in the bastardization of Native American beliefs.