general information.
full name judah isaac fisher
nicknames fish / jude / judy ( if you're feeling cheeky )
age 34
date of birth november 22
place of birth staten island, new york
zodiac sagittarius sun
gender cis man
nationality american
religion agnostic
orientation bisexual
physical attributes.
face claim aaron taylor johnson
voice claim aaron taylor johnson
height 5'11
weight 184
build athletic / muscular
exercise habits daily hard manual labor
allergies hay fever / red wine
hair color dark brunet
hairstyle long-ish wild curls
eye color blue
glasses/contacts no
dominant hand right
tattoos this man looks like a sticker book / refs to come
scars several small scars on hands + arms from metalwork / left eyebrow
piercings earlobes / nose ( closed up ) / a secret third thing
jewelry / accessories tree of life necklace / leather cord bracelet
background information.
hometown staten island, new york
current residence the wexley, new york
spoken languages english + bad english
driver’s license yes
occupation piercer / mechanic / scrap artist
familial information.
relationship status single
mother sylvia fisher
father mark fisher
siblings jonah fisher / fraternal twin
other none
children none
pets none
personality.
positive traits charismatic + persuasive + logical + hardworking
negative traits cocksure + obtrusive + manipulative + argumentative
likes urban exploration + a heavy indica + carhartt coveralls + cold metal on skin
dislikes egotism ( unless it's him ) + head highs + sci-fi + performative kindness
fears losing his brother + being alone + rejection + flying insects
moral alignment chaotic neutral
mbti estp
supplies.
mess kit
spare clothes
two and a half packs of newport 100s
slightly less than a quarter of gorilla glue #4 that’s dry asf now but still smokes
small glass bowl
engraved zippo that’s getting dangerously low
crowbar
vintage swiss army knife
travel tool kit
rope
9mm pistol + ammunition
biography.
When Sylvia and Mark Fisher discovered that they were expecting twins, it was an unanticipated but wholly welcome surprise. They were in love, after all, and Sylvia was thrilled at the thought of settling into their modest Staten Island home and putting down roots, building a family, even if the thought of twins did come as a shock to her unsuspecting husband. He quickly acclimated to the idea, but his sense of security was ripped from beneath his feet just as swiftly when a tragic complication during the cesarean left Mark a widow and a single father of two infant boys, Jonah and Judah. Long hours at the fire station and a dedication to his community meant that Mark relied heavily on his sister to help raise his sons, frequently looking after them alongside her own brood of children. They didn’t necessarily have a bad childhood; Judah wasn’t ignorant enough to be blind to the fact that they had more than many, able to boast a father that tried to raise them right, a handful of close family, and a consistent roof over their heads. It never stopped them from staying out of trouble, but it was enough to keep them in check. Although he’d never felt in any way that he had to compete with his twin, it was almost as if being the younger of the two — even if only by seven minutes — had instilled in Judah an innate drive to compensate. Or maybe that was just growing up in a household with so many heads that it became easy to slip through the cracks. Their father did their best to raise them and look out for them, but Judah still hungered for attention from the start. This inherent yearning encouraged his mind and his mouth in equal part as he grew up, carving out a sharp wit and gilding his tongue — he caught the attention and accolades of his teachers when he was young, even if he did grow into something more of a beacon for wasted potential by the time he reached high school. A warning. Whether he had the aptitude for it or not, he was never meant to succeed within the confines of conventional higher education. The world had bigger plans for the Fisher twins, Judah was convinced of this, even if he didn’t know for certain the specifics when he was burning college acceptance letters over the sink and workshopping possible futures involving the pair of them from the counter of their aunt’s kitchen.
( He’d been pressured by counselors to send out applications, but he was never going to go. Not without Jonah. )
That plan, as it turned out, involved renovating an old auto shop that had been in their family for several generations — it belonged to an uncle and was left to their father nearly a decade earlier, sitting abandoned until the boys were given an opportunity to get their hands dirty and turn it into something more. The idea itself came from Jonah, as did most of their better schemes; his older brother had always been the more creative of the two of them, always full of thoughts and theories and plans, and Judah had an eye for spotting the diamonds in the rough. Perhaps the most promising of them all? A combination tattoo-piercing-and-chop shop. The first of its kind, to the brothers’ knowledge. Judah never had the same proclivity for art that his brother did — if the pair of them shared a brain, there was no doubt Jude was the left lobe, all logic and analysis and mechanical parts — but he found his own place among the scrap metal, whether piercing holes in clients or stripping parts from the boosted cars that ended up in their garage. And maybe the shop was never a raving success, but the boys did well enough to get by and look out for each other, and it was a staple location in Staten Island, well-known by the locals.
It was no wonder, then, that when the outbreak occurred, the Fisher boys’ shop swiftly became a safe haven amidst the chaos. And it was no surprise either, was it? How many years had Judah spent entertaining his brother’s long-winded theories about the apocalypse and end-times, nodding along and offering questions and scraps of opinion to hypotheticals he figured would never come to light? He would’ve been biting his tongue in the moment if he’d actually had the time to process and not just act, but Jonah didn’t need to speak his ❛ I told you so ❜ out loud for Judah to hear it. They were surprisingly prepared when the shit hit the fan and it didn’t take much effort to fortify the shop with the materials they had on-hand and the handful of employees that were either lingering around the shop that morning or had found their way there upon hearing the news. With a well to provide fresh water and a series of solar panels spanning the roof in conjunction with a generator, the shop maintained many pre-shitshow luxuries long after the rest of the city had been robbed of them. Society might’ve gone to Hell in a handbasket, but like cockroaches, if you were to ask Judah, the twins thrived in the chaos of the new world order.
Or, at very least, they did for a while. The winter was long and cold and unforgiving, but they holed up and hunkered down and, damn it, they made it through. Judah spent the winter brainstorming and workshopping new ways to improve their camp — securing the perimeter with reinforced fencing, plotting out locations across town to scour for supplies once the thaw finally hit — and had high hopes for the success of spring. What he hadn’t anticipated in all of his thinking and planning was the possibility of a mutiny. These folks were his friends, after all, his community. Christ, he and Jonah had taken them in out of the kindness of their own damn hearts when they could’ve just as easily barricaded everyone on the other side of their wall of half-gutted cars. Maybe they should have. But the Fisher boys were raised better than that, their father made sure of it. There was never a world in which they would’ve kept anybody out. It might not always look like it, but they had a half-decent moral compass. ( Half-decent, Judah thinks, because he’d still had to talk Jonah down from burning the entire building to the ground when they fled. Was that a morality thing, though, or was it more selfishly motivated? There was always a chance they could return. ) There was never a world in which they would’ve kept anybody out. When they were forced to flee their safe space — their home — Judah and Jonah packed everything they could carry on their backs and sought out refuge in the first place they could. What Judah couldn’t have anticipated was safe harbor coming in the form of an actual harbor. Neither one of them knew how to operate a boat, much less drive one, but the twins were nothing if not resourceful, and with their working mechanical knowledge combined, it wasn’t too difficult to find their sea legs. They stayed on the boat for a while, but the sight of a rather impressive pyrotechnic display on the shore captured their attention. Survival instinct kept them from rushing in to investigate immediately, but the twins eventually found their way into the city. Carefully and methodically, they building-hopped their way through Manhattan, keeping an eye out for survivors until they were eventually led to the Wexley. The place is a far cry from the familiar comforts of their Staten Island shop, but Judah is determined to make the most of their time there while they reset, recalibrate, and start to establish a plan to get their home back.
