#redford.intro

[wildquiet]

(  the  basics.  )

›  name:  sloane  temperance  hollis

›  nickname(s):  none  that  stick

›  gender:  cis  woman  (  she  /  her  )

›  orientation:  bisexual

›  date  of  birth:  january  9  (  26  )

›  occupation:  card  dealer  at  crimson  pine  casino

›  main  location:  redford,  usa

(  the  physical  &  mental.  )

 ›  height:  5’7”  /  170cm

›  weight:  125lbs  /  57kg

›  body  type:  slender,  athletic  build

›  eye  color:  brown

›  hair  color:  dirty  blonde,  sunlit  in  places

›  dominant  hand:  right

›  tattoos:  fine-line  snake  wrapping  around  her  forearm,  a  tiny  playing  card  on  her  ribcage

›  piercings:  ears  (multiple),  small  nose  stud

›  scars:  faint  one  across  her  knee  from  a  childhood  accident

›  conditions:  mild  anxiety  masked  by  humor

›  schemas:  abandonment  /  trust  issues  /  survival  /  independence

(  the  personality.  )

›  6  qualities:  quick-witted  ・  independent  ・  sharp  ・  perceptive  ・  self-reliant  ・  confident

›  6  flaws:  cynical  ・  guarded  ・  reckless  ・  stubborn  ・  sarcastic  to  a  fault  ・  emotionally  avoidant

›  mbti:  estp

›  moral  alignment:  chaotic  neutral

›  temperament:  choleric

›  enneagram:  8w7

›  soul  type:  survivor

›  animal:  fox

›  greek  god:  artemis

›  zodiac:  capricorn  sun  ・  sagittarius  moon  ・  aquarius  rising

(  the  background.  )

›  intelligence:  street-smart,  emotionally  perceptive

→  type:  adaptive  thinker  ・  reads  people  effortlessly

›  skills:  card  dealing  ・  reading  body  language  ・  poker  bluffing  ・  fast  talking  ・  quick  memorization

›  likes:  late  nights  ・  cheap  whiskey  ・  thunderstorms  ・  old  rock  songs  ・  beating  people  at  their  own  games

›  dislikes:  clinginess  ・  losing  control  ・  pity  ・  small  town  gossip  ・  dishonesty  (even  though  she’s  a  pro  at  it)

›  triggers:  betrayal  ・  feeling  trapped  ・  being  underestimated

›  touchstones:  a  deck  of  battered  old  cards  ・  a  locket  she  never  opens  ・  the  heavy  sound  of  slot  machines  spinning  at  night

(  the  facts.  )

•  sloane  could  count  the  people  she  trusts  on  one  hand  —  and  still  have  fingers  left  over.

•  she  can  shuffle  cards  so  fast  it  almost  looks  like  a  magic  trick.

•  she’s  better  at  reading  people’s  tells  than  she  is  at  reading  her  own  heart.

•  nobody  has  ever  seen  her  cry,  not  once,  not  even  after  the  world  fell  apart.

•  she  tells  herself  she  doesn’t  believe  in  luck  —  but  she  carries  a  worn  silver  coin  in  her  pocket  anyway.

redford  was  supposed  to  be  a  pit  stop  —  one  more  town  on  the  long  stretch  between  nowhere  and  somewhere  better.

sloane  hollis  rolled  in  seven  years  ago  with  a  duffel  bag,  a  deck  of  cards,  and  no  plans  to  stay  longer  than she  had  to.

but  seasons  blurred  into  years,  and  somewhere  along  the  way,  redford  stopped  feeling  like  a  layover  and  started  feeling  like  a  trap.

then  october  2024  came.  the  departure.

overnight,  the  world  cracked  at  the  seams.  people  vanished,  futures  shriveled,  and  the  idea  of  packing  up  and  leaving  started  feeling  a  lot  more  dangerous  than  staying  put.

crimson  pine  casino  wasn’t  glamorous,  but  it  paid  in  cash  and  anonymity  —  enough  for  sloane  to  keep  dealing  hands  and  hiding  behind  quick  smiles.

she  built  a  life  in  the  background  of  redford,  never  truly  belonging,  never  really  trusting.  sharp  when  she  needed  to  be,  slippery  when  she  had  to  be,  and  always,  always  keeping  one  foot  out  the  door  —  even  if  she  never  quite  made  it  out.

she’s  not  looking  for  a  way  home.  she’s  just  trying  not  to  fold  before  the  next  round  gets  dealt.

[debtdealt]

high on amphetamines the moon is a light bulb breaking it'll go around with anyone but it won't come down for anyone and i won't come down for anyone

general.

full name — michael gerard hopley. ( yeah. it's what you think. ) nicknames — mikey, mick. age & d.o.b — 24 & april 8th, 2001. gender & pronouns — nonbinary & they/she/he, no preference. sexuality — unlabeled, queer. ethnicity — white. occupation — bartender at altitude 22.

background.

place of birth — redford, california. residence — redford, california. ( located in the cove, in a run-down one story, ranch house by the ocean. ) known languages — english, ASL. accent — like if a valley girl should've spawned on the east coast but ended up over here. ghost of new jersey slips out of him sometimes. don't worry about it. : / education — high school graduate. parents — katrina and james hopley. both estranged, 'disappeared' status completely unknown. never met their dad, mom walked out when they were about fifteen. siblings — james hopley, vanished. 5 years older. pets — yeah, uh, do not give this guy a living thing to care for. please. he's a doink and he's barely alive by himself.

phys.

face claim — sophie thatcher. height — 5'6" ft. hair color — changes all the time, usually box - dyed blonde or something dark, like red/black/brown. had spray-dye blue hair ages 12 to 15 with the worst roots you've ever seen. eye color — green. details — frequent nose scrunching type. freckles on the shoulders, nose. has glasses that he won't wear and he's too scared of contacts to try. lip biting. one eyelid hangs just a little lower than the other, perpetually sat at half open. cartoonishly expressive at times because she doesn't know how to make her emotions seem earnest otherwise. style — mix of picks of made from ease of comfortability and punk & goth inspirations. always carrying a cane with a skull at the head of it, which is mostly used for mobility assistance but also a nonzero amount of swinging at adversaries. build — noodle. tattoos — snail from adventure time on her left ankle. piercings — left eyebrow. physical health — poor eye - sight, as previously mentioned. typically seen wearing a brace on her knee — it's never really been the same since a heely's accident. ( dead serious. wiped out so bad, surgery was required. )

a closer look.

traits — captivating, perceptive, unfortunately also stupid ( high wisdom, low intelligence, alright? ), absent-minded, erratic, mischievous, flirtatious, friendly, compassionate, impulsive, self-destructive, irresponsible, idiot, constipation of the emotions to a degree, shockingly capable but this only seems to be in the regard of caring for others. zodiac big three — aries sun, cancer moon, pisces rising. alignment — chaotic good ( ? ). character inspo — marceline ( adventure time ), rue bennett ( euphoria ), nat scatorccio ( yellowjackets ), ryan atwood ( the oc ), francis wilkerson ( malcolm in the middle ), klaus hargreeves ( the umbrella academy ), shane mccutcheon ( the l word ), doodlebob ( spongebob squarepants ), peter parker ( marvel, if he was stupid though ). mental health — generally struggles with substance abuse of all kinds. isn't struggling with autism but definitely has it. bipolar i, medicated. ptsd. pinterest — here. playlist — here.

overview.

do you know where your children are? . . . the 2010’s aren’t the point in time of the relevancy of this advertisement ( 1960s ), and no one then really listens to the radio anyway, but it’s just as well; katrina hopley wouldn’t have known the answer even if she had held her head up long enough to hear it. and james i? the baby daddy of her first and her second kid? yeah, split before the little one was even fuckin’ old enough to be able to hold a memory. james ii, five years older than mikey, makes it his job to know the answer to that question for all of them after their mom drops the ball for the last time and leaves mikey to walk home three miles by herself after school when she’s just eight and he’s just thirteen. it’s because of his devotion to keeping them both afloat that she was cared for at all, and it’s for this reason that james vanishing eighteen months ago all but destroyed her.  even though her mother walked out when she was fifteen and even though that introduced a grief of it’s own kind into her life, she was still well looked after; and really, the absence of them didn’t change much when he was more her parent than either of theirs ever had been. she was loved by the person that mattered the most to her and that was enough. love is leaking all over the house she grew up in ( it suffocates her ), in the form of pictures on the wall that her brother cared to put up of the two of them and in all of the furniture he either bought with his own money or fixed with his own hands. in the way he used to set the table for her, even on days where she didn’t think to call home and let him know she’d be late, leaving him to worry ( and they were frequent. god, were they frequent ) — she regrets those types of things the most in his absence, and she hasn’t moved that last plate he’d left in her spot. never ate the food he saved, either. that had to go about a week after the departure. the seaside’s lonely when it’s a singular pair of boots tracking in sand and especially when she can’t hear james laughing down the hallway at a rerun of golden girls that he’s seen no less than eighty times.  mikey does things now without much direction, without much purpose — and they can blame that all day on the fact that they lost their north star, but the truth is that they were born aimless ( the way we all are ) and then never found something to make their reason. reason to work hard, reason to try at anything. they’re unregulated and unpredictable on their worst days, devastatingly charismatic and sweet on their best, and generally fumbling through life with almost an impressive level of mediocrity on every day in-between.

[wildquiet]

(  the  basics.  )

›  name:  everett  james  carrow

›  nickname(s):  ev,  rhett,  spooky

›  gender:  cis  man  (  he  /  him  )

›  orientation:  heteroromantic  demisexual

›  date  of  birth:  october  18  (  40  ) ›  occupation:  lead  funeral  director  (  redford  morgue  )

›  main  location:  redford,  usa

(  the  physical  &  mental.  )

›  height:  6’2”  /  188cm

›  weight:  175lbs  /  79kg

›  body  type:  lean,  wiry

›  eye  color:  blue-green

›  hair  color:  dark  brown

›  dominant  hand:  right

›  tattoos:  minimal—small  hidden  script  on  ribs  (“memento  vivere”)  and  a  faded  old  dagger  on  inner  forearm

›  piercings:  none

›  scars:  thin  scar  at  his  temple,  a  few  faded  ones  on  hands

›  conditions:  mild  insomnia,  emotionally  repressive  tendencies

›  schemas:  grief  /  abandonment  /  inadequacy  /  duty

(  the  personality.  )

›  6  qualities:  empathetic  ・  reliable  ・  humorous  ・  intuitive  ・  quirky  ・  loyal

›  6  flaws:  emotionally  guarded  ・  socially  awkward  ・  slightly  morbid  ・  avoidant  ・  secretive  ・  stubborn

›  mbti:  infp

›  moral  alignment:  neutral  good

›  temperament:  melancholic-sanguine

›  enneagram:  4w5

›  soul  type:  caretaker

›  animal:  crow

›  greek  god:  hades

›  zodiac:  libra  sun  ・  virgo  moon  ・  scorpio  rising

(  the  background.  )

›  intelligence:  above  average

→  type:  emotional  intelligence  ・  observational  thinker

›  skills:  embalming  ・  woodworking  ・  grief  counseling  (awkward)  ・  minor  restoration  work  ・  record  keeping  ・  creative  storytelling

›  likes:  antique  stores  ・  thunderstorms  ・  black  coffee  ・  cemetery  walks  ・  horror  movies  ・  fixing  broken  clocks

›  dislikes:  small  talk  ・  performative  grief  ・  tourists  ・  empty  platitudes  ・  being  pitied  ・  being  rushed

›  triggers:  abandonment  ・  loss  without  closure  ・  feeling  powerless  to  help

›  touchstones:  his  father’s  old  pocketwatch  ・  an  unfinished  letter  from  his  mother  ・  the  sound  of  rain  against  the  morgue  windows

(  the  facts.  )

•  everett  talks  to  the  dead  while  he  works,  treating  them  like  old  friends.

•  he  is  deeply  uncomfortable  in  churches  despite  being  around  death  constantly.

•  collects  broken  clocks  but  never  bothers  fixing  them  all  the  way.

•  has  never  left  redford  again  after  coming  back, he  feels  he  owes  it  to  the  town  somehow.

•  despite  his  quiet  reputation,  everett  has  a  ridiculously  dark,  dry  sense  of  humor  once  he  opens  up.

•  he’s  secretly  terrified  he’ll  die  alone  and  no  one  will  come  to  his  funeral.

you  could  miss  everett  carrow  if  you  weren’t  looking  for  him.

the  funeral  director  at  the  redford  morgue  isn’t  loud,  isn’t  flashy  —  he  just  sort  of  exists,  like  a  loose  floorboard  you  keep  stepping  over  without  fixing.

he  grew  up  here,  once.  drifted  away  for  a  while,  chasing  nothing  in  particular,  before  the  departure  pulled  him  back  like  a  tide  he  didn’t  have  the  strength  to  fight.  now,  he  spends  his  days  among  the  dead  —  straightening  ties,  writing  names  on  toe  tags,  humming old  songs  under  his  breath  while  he  works.

everett’s  the  kind  of  man  who  talks  to  corpses  like  they  might  answer  back,  who  keeps  broken  clocks  around  because  “they  still  have  character,”  and  who  shows  up  to  every  funeral,  even  if  nobody  else  does. people  in  town  say  he’s  odd.  he  says  it’s  better  than  being  boring.

and  somewhere  in  the  quiet  between  embalming  fluid  and  cigarette  smoke,  everett  carrow  keeps  the  last  pieces  of  redford  stitched  together  —  awkwardly,  stubbornly,  and  with  more  heart  than  he’ll  ever  admit.

[bcdysntchers]

“  something  in  me  vibrates  /  a  dusky  dreamy  smell

/ dying  moons  steeped in milk and  shadows.  ”

pinterest.

basics

full name: anthony mei thorne

age: thirty two

pronouns: she/her

sexuality: queer

star sign: gemini

label: the siren ( used in reference to the appeal of something that is alluring but also potentially harmful or dangerous. )

occupation: bartender at hackett's ax throwing bar

theme song: inertia creeps by massive attack

aesthetics:

bracelets that jingle like spells, rings coiled around fingers, soundtrack of every movement. perfume of tobacco smoke, crushed herbs, and something sweet enough to make you dizzy. whispers in town that you’re less woman than omen. dresses that slip off shoulders. desire hanging in silence. eyes that don’t blink often enough, reflecting back more than they should. candles burned down to crooked stubs, wax dripping across the floor like veins. an old velvet chair that sags as though it remembers the shape of every body.

backstory:

redacted

headcanons:

she's this like mysterious woman that showed up a few months after the departure and moved into a house in the rewilded district. eventually she pushed herself closer to town and began working at hackett's, while still keeping her residency in the district. which is insane considering the situation and all the possible danger, but that's the whole point.

she knows people whisper behind her back. she gets it, she wouldn't expect people not to be wary around her, both because of her random appearance and also because her eyes shine with a kind of deceitful mischief. costumers often comment on how perhaps a stranger shouldn't be trusted behind the counter of a bar famous for throwing axes, and she has to remember they're the ones holding the weapon, not her. possibly children gossip about her being a witch, an idea she loves and entertains with growls.

the whole point of her character is living on that blurry line between danger and fear from sensuality. scary and sexy at the same time. she flirts, she dangles, shoulders and collarbones exposed by slipping fabric, the siren as in she has that something that lures you in but you're not fully sure you can survive.

she wears so much jewelry, especially stacked up rings and bangles, that you can hear her coming from a mile away, metal jingling before her feet can make a sound.

biggest men hater in history. like she is attracted to them but her patience always wears thin whenever she has to deal with them. that's why she often prefers women. maybe men are more of a plaything while women actually hold some kind of meaning.

very vocal about her opinions, rolls her eyes like she's getting paid for it. if she's not interested or doesn't like something or someone she will make it obvious, same thing with the opposite. has a very black and white view on the world.

big cynic and very morally ambiguous. kinda seems not to car about the whole departure thing? at times, it actually looks as if she's thriving under such unnerving times.

wcs

anything and everything. from people that are extremely wary around her to flirtations. maybe also someone she hookes up with from time to time?

[bcdysntchers]

“  pretty  boy  / 

consumed  by  death  /

with  the  holes  in  his  sneakers.  ”

pinterest.

basics

full name: oliver finn

age: twenty five

pronouns: he/him

sexuality: for now identifies as heterosexual but feels a certain curiosity towards men

star sign: scorpio

label: the flashpoint ( a place or stage at which violence might be expected to begin )

occupation: mechanic at duke's

theme song: he would listen to something like carry me ohio by sun kill moon but his actual theme would be dust bowl by ethel cain

aesthetics:

worn jackets that smell of grease and smoke, sleeves fraying like the edges of your patience. abandoned porches where the paint curls like dead skin. a crooked silver ring and a dangling necklace. an old radio humming between static and old songs. the taste of rust on your tongue. biting your lip instead of speaking, swallowing shards of yourself with every word unsaid. survivor's guilt like an echo, the world feels brittle and you want to bite, count how many seconds it'd take to break.

info: ( tw: death tw )

oliver remembers sunlight like a lie. his mother's voice still drips between his ribs, something he swallows and spits and the same time. it was her death that emptied him out and stitched him back together with grief, anger and teeth bared quite. sure quiet, but bared nonetheless. he remembers his fists reaching places his feet hadn't reached yet, and sometimes the bitter taste of copper felt like the only honest thing left in this world.

now the town also resembles dust. half of it gone, half of it hallow, and sure he'd care more, he wish he did, but there was a certain kind of morbid comfort in seeing himself reflected in the streets he had always walked, now full of cracks and bad weeds. the houses hum with absence and he moves through them like a ghost with sharp edges, listening to the way emptiness bends.

he thinks of the red watch sometimes. maybe there he can twist his teeth into something that don't just sink into soft skin, but something useful that bites back. maybe he can hit and bite at the world and call it justice.

headcanons:

he came up to me on a whim while i was listening to ethel cain's new album and was scrolling through tumblr, randomly coming across his gif packs which just hit me with a vision. so like his whole vibe is southern gothic, rural america haunted boy who turned into anger like a religion after he didn't know what to do with his grief.

he always has rosy cheeks and red lips that contrast with pale skin and often flaunts bruises honestly ... anywhere. but it shows the whole dynamic between boyhood and anger. he's the personification of the quote 'i'm not a violent dog i don't know why i bite.'

loves hanging out on his porch, often just sits there cleaning things or smoking and drinking a can so if you're ever walking by the sweeps it's likely that you'll find him there.

talks little, only speaks when spoken to and if he has something to say that matters. kind of pushes everyone away.

his hands are callous, nails often dirty and knuckles often scraped. he cuts his own hair and has this kind of shaggy mullet that sometimes his hides under caps.

doesn't know how to read too well and has bad handwriting because he dropped out of high school.

wcs:

old friends that he pushed away and now it's kind of weird and strange because they grew up together and now barely say hi. ( we were in a race to grow up yesterday through today 'til tomorrow but when the plant blew up a piece of shrapnel flew and slowed that part of you )

ex girlfriend that he was soooo in love with but then pushed away after the departure.

people he gets drunk with, people he maybe got in a fight with and also would maybe love someone who's kind of a confidant except they don't talk and instead sit in silence drinking packs together.

maybe like ..... someone he sleeps around with and maybe for him it's more out of comfort and escape while your muse's motives are up to you, whether they're genuinely interested or also finding a way to cope.

[spcrrcws]

✉️ — [ victoria pedretti, 26, woman, she/her ] — Hey, is that ALICE OWENS listening to LET DOWN by RADIOHEAD? They’re known around town as THE SPARROW, because they’re KIND and OPTIMISTIC, but ever since the Departure, they’ve become more INSECURE and WITHDRAWN. They’ve lived in Redford for ONE YEAR and work at THE REDFORD PUBLIC LIBRARY as a CLERK. If you need them, you can find them in BIRCHWOOD APARTMENTS. — ( ooc - fern, 27, they/them, pst )

— 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎.

full name: alice elizabeth owens. date of birth: jan. 30th, 1999. age: 26 years old. place of birth: san francisco, ca. pronouns: she/her. orientation: bisexual. occupation: library clerk at the redford public library. faceclaim: victoria pedretti (namely in the haunting of bly manor). height: 5'6". style: stereotypical librarian / school teacher; cardigans and button downs, graphic t-shirts from museums or bookshops, not afraid of color or patterns. prefers more "masculine" clothes - pants over skirts or dresses, but occasionally indulges in them. dresses for comfort; won't wear fabric that's too scratchy, or shoes that hurt, even if it's fashionable and she likes it. lots of knitwear, oversized sweaters and jeans atop well-worn sneakers.

— 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃

Even before nearly half of the population of the world disappeared, Alice had felt alone. It wasn't what her mother had always implied, that she viewed herself as superior to others - on the contrary, Alice had always been deeply conscious of her own averageness. (tw: vague references to parental abuse and neglect) It wasn't so much that her parents pressured her to be great, in any fashion. The only child to a police officer mother and a firefighter father, the major emphasis they imparted on their child was the importance of hard work. It was their commitment to their jobs that kept them away for long hours, weeks at a time for her father, leaving a below-ten year old to take care of the household and herself. Of course, her mother was around more reliably... but 'reliable' itself she was not. Alice and her mother always harbored a strained relationship. Her mother was moody, temperamental, and seemed to vent her frustrations at life in general on her. Alice's father, by contrast, was a more positive and stable presence, though often absent and - perhaps even worse - tolerant of her mother's treatment of her. (end of tw) Unfortunately for the two of them, Alice applied her familial lessons of work ethic to learning, rather than following in their footsteps and getting a 'reputable blue collar job'. Though perhaps odd to say that a family graced with a child eager to learn did not support her endeavor for higher education, Alice had grown up in an environment where she was not understood by her parents and largely left to her own devices. As she grew, Alice struggled to make friends. Acquaintances came easy, but no one who knew when her birthday was or became excited to celebrate the day. She drifted through life a ghost. Even the promise of escaping to college after reaching adulthood, going to Berkeley and leaving her hometown of San Francisco, left her bereft of substantial connections save for the very parents she had left behind. By summer 2024, Alice had finished her masters in library science. No one attended her graduation. Still, she moved back in with her parents in San Francisco while she searched for jobs. On October 3rd, 2024, her parents did not come home when expected. Granted, with all the reports of missing people, perhaps they were out searching. They never came back. 43% of the population had vanished - easier odds than a coinflip - and still both of her parents were among the vanished. Still, life moved on relentlessly. Even as the economy struggled, Alice pocketed her grief, tucked it into a small corner of her mind, and found a decent job offer. A small town in Redford, Oregon, a bit farther than she's ever gone before (nor is it even a full-fledged librarian position, but that of a clerk), but promising. A new start, among the wreckage of life as known. A little under a year later, and Redford's been made her home.

— 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐂.

"Sparrow" was a nickname her father gave her after she grew excited and rambled about a topic at him, her hands fluttering about like the bird.

has a bunch of house plants. decent green thumb.

[rootsrotted]

INTRODUCING: SALEM AZZAM

[ josie totah, 23, trans woman, she/her ] — Hey, is that SALEM AZZAM listening to WITCHY WOMAN by THE EAGLES? They’re known around town as THE OCCULTIST, because they’re OUTGOING and LOYAL, but ever since the Departure, they’ve become more CONNIVING and BIZARRE. They’ve lived in Redford for TWELVE YEARS and work at LOVECRAFT’S as the ASSISTANT MANAGER. If you need them, you can find them in THICKET APARTMENTS.

GENERAL

character name: salem azzam

nickname (s): n/a

face claim: josie totah

birthday: june 3rd

place of birth: malibu, CA

zodiac: gemini

mbti: entp

moral alignment: chaotic neutral

occupation: assistant manager

place of work: lovecrafts

affiliation: nobody

3 positive traits: supportive, organized, quick-thinking

3 negative traits: insensitive, self-absorbed, sarcastic

languages: english, arabic

love language: words of affirmation

character summary:

weird girl time

QUICK FACTS

she moved to redford twelve years ago from malibu, CA. her parents were fairly wealthy but the company her dad worked for required that they relocate. she's still bitter about it to this day, even though she loves her life here and won't leave.

she used to have a summer home in malibu (parents' timeshare) but post-departure, nobody has any idea what happened to it.

she has a pet tarantula named princess that she takes everywhere with her in her purse, like a more fucked up tea cup chihuahua.

obsessed with the occult, more so since the departure. she lost her mom in the event and is hopeful she can find a way to bring her back. she is NOT happy to be left with her dad & step dad (mom's 1st and 2nd husband).

POSSIBLE CONNECTIONS

rivals: she is an annoying, out of touch rich girl who is ALSO a weird girl, so i can imagine that she has more enemies (or at least, people that are annoyed by her) than friends. maybe people that wish she was in the departure instead of [insert person here]? lol

neighbors: she lives in thicket apartments so i'd love to get some things going with people there? i wouldn't say she's a terrible neighbor but things DEFINITELY get a little weird sometimes. whether or not people approve... up to you!

anything else: please... the world is our oyster <3

[rootsrotted]

INTRODUCING: JAMES HERNANDEZ

[ nonso anozie, 46, cis man, he/him ] — Hey, is that JAMES “BEAVER” HERNANDEZ listening to ALL ALONG THE WATCHTOWER by JIMI HENDRIX? They’re known around town as THE MOUNTAIN MAN, because they’re RESILIENT and PATIENT, but ever since the Departure, they’ve become more MISTRUSTFUL and PESSIMISTIC. They’ve lived in Redford for ALL THEIR LIFE and work at BEAVER LIQUORS as the OWNER. If you need them, you can find them in NORTHERN VALLEY.

GENERAL

character name: james hernandez

nickname (s): beaver, jim

face claim: nonso anozie

birthday: january 29th

place of birth: redford, OR

zodiac: aquarius

mbti: isfj

moral alignment: neutral good

occupation: liquor store owner

place of work: beaver liquors

affiliation: nobody

3 positive traits: reliable, accepting, thoughtful

3 negative traits: resentful, isolated, stubborn

languages: english, spanish

love language: quality time

character summary:

guy who lost his first and only love has to try and keep himself and his family together in the face of a massive global tragedy.

QUICK FACTS

1st gen american from mexican parents. they first lived in arizona, then california, and then redford where they settled. his dad was a carpenter and taught him the trade. he was originally who gave him the nickname beaver.

he and his family got really close to another immigrant family that lived across the street. he became best friends with their son, who later became his husband.

said husband had a passion for mixology and they opened beaver liquors together partly in honor of his dads passing from heart disease. once the business became more sustainable, they adopted their daughter astrid.

he has picked up hunting and re-picked up carpentry post-departure, mostly as a way to be productive about becoming a shell of his former self.

POSSIBLE CONNECTIONS

in-laws: they used to live across the street from the hernandez family back in the day and have always been close. they would also be hurting because of his husband/their family member's disappearance (among any others that have occurred). we can hash out the rest of the details!

hunting buddy: most of the time he goes alone, but sometimes he doesn't. maybe it's by choice or maybe they're tagging along and he can't get rid of them.

moonshine: someone who makes it and sells it to him so that he can sell it back to people... or maybe they have some kind of other arrangement. either way, i don't think he makes it himself but he does have it in stock, which is where your muse comes in!