( JESÚS CASTRO, CIS MAN, HE/HIM ) — Look who it is! If you take a look at our database, you’ll find that DAVID ROJAS is a THIRTY year old DOOMSDAYER that has been in Chicago for ONE YEAR. According to government files, they’re a MUTANT on LEVEL ONE with the power of OMEN EMBODIMENT & DEATHSENSE. That must be why they’re PROTECTIVE and SCATTERED. If you ask me, they remind me of A THOUSAND ALL-SEEING EYES, THE FIVE STAGES OF GRIEF, AND THE QUIET DESPAIR OF A DYING MAN. They are affiliated with NOBODY.
background.
( tw: familial death, death in general, self-harm ( graphic! ), neglect, etc. )
david was born shrieking and inconsolable. for the first many weeks of his life ( among various specialist visits ) the only break from his incessant panic was when he had finally exhausted himself to sleep. it improved little as he grew older, even with the thousands of appointments in the search for answers that he attended. his first word was a recognition of a relative, but was quickly followed by one he should not have known—dead. an entire fleet of behavioral psychologists still wouldn’t have understood why.
the first thoughts he ever expressed were equally dark, nonsense coupled with the disturbing, twisted visions of demise. specifically, his parents’. growing older, it took a more meaningful shape, but never changed in results. you’re going to die. you’re going to leave me alone. you’ll go away in your car and never come back. never in a million years would they thought it anything more than the most bizarre, persistent anxiety anyone had ever seen. they reassured him every day when they left that they would be home. and almost every day, that was true... until he ended up being right.
david had been eight. he had begged them, more fervently ever before, not to head off in their car for their date night. even the babysitter, a close family friend, couldn’t console him once they had left. and certainly, nobody was able to console him once the calls came in about a massive crash they had been burned alive in. he was moved in with his grandmother after that, a widow that lived nearby. the story was the same—he would demand to check up on her after every nap, demand holding her hand while she walked up the stairs—and ended in the same way as before. he came home from school, already resigned to the fact that he would stumble across his grandmother, now dead.
puberty took a turn for the worst, and not only for himself. his horrible visions began to extend beyond a personal reach, winding their way out into the world—into the past, present, future—and snaking back into him. he grew feathers cut from stone, becoming more than just a frightened boy, but an omen of the very same wolf that he cried. death. even with his changing appearance, he tried to warn people of what he had seen. you die playing football. don’t play. they play. their head gushes red out onto the pavement. over and over and over again. don’t smoke. heart attack. it happens in the middle of class, frightening his fellow students. over and over and over again.
it all came to a head in high school. the further his reach grew, the most desperate he became. he tore his eyes out rather than be subjected to the visions he was cursed with, crushing them in his hands in the hopes that he would never see again. two others, hard and cold and glowing, broke down not only his hopes, but also his spirit. now, the sight of him alone was enough to evoke fear, even when he tore out the feathers. he was forced to quit school long before graduating.
fear had been his first sensation, but now it turned to ash and mud in his head. he refused to go out, preferring instead to rot in the basement of what had once been his grandmother’s home, left to him. he carved every death he could ever experience into the dirt and stone below it, even as his nails bled for it. going out meant facing a world that would continue to die around him... unwilling, unable, to heed his message. that was before the universe itself broke around his mind, every soul of every time evaporated in the confines of his skull. it was now not a message of urgency, but of defeat. give up.
quick facts.
fluent in english and spanish! although technically david has heard every other language that has and will exist, that doesn’t mean he understands them.
was originally raised catholic, but was never much into the belief of it all. it’s too optimistic to him to think that anything is out there beyond the reach of death.
has really tough, almost stone-like skin. this man has never suffered a bug bite, ever.
bi... :)
does not drive. or take cars in general. it’s walking or nothing.
possible connections.
fellow group homers. where the unwanted peeps at... this guy sees absolutely no point in keeping relationships of any kind, so they probably haven’t talked in a while.
people looking for answers. they don’t have to care about his end-of-the-universe-is-inevitable schtick. maybe someone they were close to kicked the bucket and they want to know how. or maybe they’re morbidly curious to know their own fate?
anything else! literally anything!














