Your character directory doesn’t seem to work for me! :(
Yeah it doesn't work for me either and I'm not sure how to fix it :(
Here is the text that's meant to be inside it though:
I tend to write these guys in a lot of different AUs so this isn’t fixed, but these are general vibes for each of my guys.
John Hall (m 75) His face crinkled in ever deeper lines when he smiled, never raising his voice above a gentle chiding. When winter came he carried a spiked cane for the ice. A pair of glasses hung by a beaded chain next to his lanyard, tucked into a breast pocket when it wasn’t being used. It all gives an image remarkably close to a kindly grandfather with fragile bones.
Flora Perrin (f 10) The world tastes bright and big and Flora’s eyes are wide to it all. Everything is so, so pretty. How can people differentiate between sunsets and stomach aches? Baby kittens purring and dead bugs curled on the windowsill? Nobody will explain so Flora learns to lie about what she likes. Mostly, she gets it right.
Edmund Mercier (m 41) Doing his best to hide a growing paunch and receding hairline, Edmund smokes and eats in exhausted denial. It’s been years since he’s been the loudest in the room. Still, some nights he forgets his divorce and goes out to lurk in the corners of bars, hoping to be approached. He often ends up paying instead. His wallet aches on a data entrist’s wage.
Roger (m 29) Odd jobs and wandering feet lead people all sorts of places. Having run away at eighteen Roger hasn’t stopped running since, his travels spanning across the country through train hopping and sneaking on ferries. All gangly limbs and terrible posture, he’s always looked older that he was. With a toothy smile and an arrogant quirk of his mouth the boy will eat the spiders off the wall to watch you shriek.
Peter (m 75) Being reasonable is a part of life when one lives among people. Peter has always been the most reasonable, picking up scutwork and pesky emails until they only remember him for how helpful he is, how pleasant and accommodating. He can always find the budget for the next project, and if he lives in an empty white manor then that isn't so different from the rest of them. Nobody visits to stumble across the pristine basement.
Viola (f 17) She wonders sometimes if she was born wrong. It doesn't seem like other people see the world separated as clearly as she does, with things to care about on one hand and everything else to be thrown away. What must it like to be them? But oh, the things she loves. She can't imagine anyone else happy elbow deep, crawling into a precious someone's head.
