Character Questionnaire #1-5
Name:
Abel Eilan Elders
Abel was his maternal grandfather’s name, and he was given this name three days after he was born. Abel is an only child for the reason that he’s the first child his mother was able to keep, so they were waiting to see if he would last it out, and when he did, as he had his grandfather’s eyes, Ms. Dorothea Elders named her son after her father as Abel would never have known him otherwise. Eilan was Abel’s father’s middle name, one he and Abel aren’t fond of, but Ms. Elders liked it enough for the both of them.
Age:
39
He finds this young, for he feels ancient, like his bones are brittle and too tired to continue moving, he feels that thirty-nine years aren’t enough and far too little to contain all he has seen, can’t believe all he has known has happened in such a fleeting time. He is still the same man that married at nineteen, believing to be in love, and he is an old man waiting for time to pass.
Height:
5′9
No part of Abel indicates a large man, he holds little muscle, he has the body of a scholar, one that has spent hours staring at night skies and books and papers, never had the build to be a knight or anything of the like. In fact, his height is the same as his mother, and her mother before her.
Eye color:
Blue
The same as his maternal grandfather’s, his namesake, and he’s heard before that they appear as the night. Abel used to believe as a child that perhaps he absorbed the night sky in his eyes, captured them, now he finds such a thought almost disgusting, terrible, and cruel, a child’s daydream in an attempt for hope, but there are better ways, there are better things to put one’s faith in, the stars fade, and so has Abel.
Physical appearance:
Ragged, thin, unhealthy.
He’s thin, forgets to eat sometimes, forgets to buy his own food. He’s a drunk with little income and hasn’t had new clothes since he became unemployed, He’s a man who has given up on the world and has given up on himself, there is a beard growing on his chin, his skin is rough with dirt and grime, his fingernails bitten to the quick, and dirt in the grooves of the palm of his hands, he slouches more then he used to. He can appear as a bit of a ghost of what he used to be, for it can be seen, his eyes are still just as sharp, his clothes those belonged to a scholar, though dirty.
