NAME: Robin “Red” Caldwell AGE: 19 PROFESSION: n/a
you were eleven when you first realized how cruel and unforgiving this world could be. your parents were gunned down right in front of you, their lifeless, bleeding bodies crumpling to the pavement at your feet. the man didn’t stick around ( were you a liability? a pushover? or were you simply not worth killing? ) , leaving you to cry helplessly as your parents lay silently before you. there had been no goodbyes, no final reassurances that you would be okay. you were simply left alone. cold, hungry and still reeling from the shock, you wandered through the city streets, down boulevard after boulevard until the city was far behind you. you don’t remember how long you walked. eventually, you stumbled upon a dimly-lit trailer park. the residents tried asking who you were, where you came from, but you had no answer. it wasn’t until the news broadcast reported your parents’ murder that anyone had any clue about your identity or background. you couldn’t tell them your name. couldn’t speak, couldn’t offer a word. your hoodie, your figurative security blanket, earned you a new name -- Red. years later, you’ve gradually become more accustomed to the small community, and the shock’s worn off enough that your voice, hoarse from lack of use, can spit swears like fire at anyone that even thinks about looking at you the wrong way. caustic words spill from your tongue like venom, a guard to maintain and keep you protected from those that might hurt you. you’re alone, and that’s just the way it is. the way it’s always been.
TIDBITS:
she’s not a very open individual, and can come across as standoffish. it’s not intentional, and she’s far from a cruel person; she’s simply guarded and distrustful of basically everyone she meets
despite having lived in Camelot for a good portion of her life, Red isn’t particularly close to anyone in the park. she mainly keeps to herself and offers little more than a wary stare at anyone that so much as looks at her. honestly, she’s just lonely and has a lot of pent-up emotion, which, when provoked, tends to be released all at once in a rather explosive fashion.
she spent the first few years not saying a word, still too deep in shock to fully register what had happened. due to the severe trauma, some learning and development was impaired, and she tends to exhibit very childlike tendencies at times.
she will retaliate if touched unexpectedly, by physical means or simply pulling away.
don’t ask about the hoodie. just don’t.
