#luckcrowned

LAYER ONE : THE OUTSIDE

Name: Charles Harris Wilson Charon

Eye Color: Bright blue

Hair Style/Color: He inherited the same ginger-red as Martha. Likes keeping it short, but can’t manage to cut it often enough for it to be as neat as he’d like. Habitually tries to finger-comb it over at intervals. Post-ghoulification, just doesn’t care. Touching it might lose him the last of it.

Height: 6′4″ (+ - I haven’t completely nailed it down, but he’s about a foot taller than LW. Mine was female and I pictured her being fairly small, so I tacked a foot onto that, but I don’t think the male models are much taller. He could be anything up to 7″ depending on how you view your LW?!)

Clothing Style: Provided he has a choice, he likes pre-war casual - going on game options only, parkstroller or spring - but the red shade is a bit much, switch it out for something lighter. He’s awkward in that he doesn’t like short sleeved shirts but he doesn’t like long either, so he has to roll long ones to the exact right place. Post-programming, he doesn’t even entertain the notion of casual clothing. Always armored, light enough not to weigh him down (his agility is already pretty poor). 

Best Physical Feature: Probably his eyes. Which backfires pretty spectacularly when they’re the only thing he retains in ghoul form and they become creepy and too-real compared to the rest of him. He used to have a nice smile, but it was the rarity of it more than anything. It felt odd to smile - when he was surrounded by misery - even when it was his natural reaction to someone or something, so he had a habit of clenching his back teeth and trying to suppress it. The result was a kind of reluctant, delayed half-smile that made him look shy, and a certain type of lady liked that.

LAYER TWO: THE INSIDE

Fears: Younger: Losing his family or something happening to them, losing his own identity after he was bought by them. Older: Nothing - he’s not allowed to be afraid of things, it might impair his usefulness.

Guilty Pleasure: Younger: Stealing smokes from dead people. Slightly less guilty if they’re slavers. Older: None. Still does that, but no longer guilty. Every selfish thought he has produces a faint sense of guilt. Vague, fleeting thoughts of his own preferences, that kind of thing.

Biggest Pet Peeve[s]: Younger: More like an intense hatred; slavers pushing around people weaker than them, which he took to be women, children and the elderly. He got his ass kicked more than once trying to step in for them. Older: Employers who don’t know how to watch their own asses. He can only do so much; he’s one ghoul, not your guardian angel.

Ambition for the Future: Younger: Escape somehow, free his fellow slaves, clear out Paradise Falls so no one else ever gets taken there. After that, he never intended to go home. Fuzzy memories of cannibalism and incest no longer seem part and parcel of living. He’d rather go find his own home. Older: Haha, that’s funny.

LAYER THREE: THOUGHTS

First Thoughts Waking Up: Younger: “Collar’s still there.” Older: “Is [Employer Name] still alive?”

What They Think About the Most: Everyone else. This is pretty consistent. He can’t be called a Mom Friend at any point, but he has a natural inclination to look after anyone who needs it. Y’know... a real man protects his family, and all.

What They Think About Before Bed: Younger: He’s probably been worked to instant unconsciousness. Older: After the security of the area, his thoughts wander as far as they can. Sometimes he tries to count his employers backwards, hoping he’ll break through that strange barrier he senses somewhere in the past. Why doesn’t he remember anyone before that?

What They Think Their Best Quality Is: Younger: He knows he’s a grounding influence. He’s good at projecting a calm aura. Older: His shotgun.

LAYER FOUR: WHAT’S BETTER?

Single or Group Dates: Group dates sound fun. That takes off a lot of pressure and seriousness; and it’d be nice for a girl to have another girl to talk to, right? Maybe single dates would be better after something like that. Of course, older... neither. 

To be Loved or Respected: Younger: Both. Older: Respected.

Beauty or Brains: Younger: He’d like to say “brains” but he’s an absolute sucker for pretty girls. As long as they can tell a mole rat from a deathclaw, they’re probably good. Older: Definitely brains. Even if anything else weren’t hypocritical, he’s a lot more relaxed around someone who won’t get themselves killed.

Dogs or Cats: Dogs. There aren’t supposed to be any cats left, Todd.

LAYER FIVE: DO YOU?

Lie: Younger: Rarely. Older: Never.

Believe in Yourself: Younger: Oddly, yes. He’s confident for someone with a bomb round his neck. Older: Yes, but in a much more practical sense.

Believe in Love: Younger: What’s not to believe in? Older: ... 

Want Someone: Younger: Eventually. He’s a little commitment-phobic, but I think that’s understandable when you were engaged to your sister as a kid. Older: Pointless to think about. No.

LAYER SIX: EVER?

Been on Stage: No.

Done Drugs: Younger: (sheepish fidgeting, awkward smile)  Older: Yeah, occasionally - but he almost sees it as medicinal. Firefight taking too long? Employer tiring out? Psycho. Finish it.

Changed Who You Were to Fit In: Never - never been able to. If he were, he might have seemed less like a vault tec ad come to life in his younger years.

LAYER SEVEN: AGE

DOB: Between 17 and 30+ depending on timeline point. I talked to Nimriel about this yesterday - I think averages out about 26, assuming we’re post-F3. But he stops counting then, since he’s technically immortal and never any closer to death. The only thing that changes anymore is the amount of unmarked skin he has left.

How Old Will You Be: ^^^

Age You Lost Your Virginity: 15. He’s a little ashamed of that now.

Does Age Matter: For what? For friends, not at all. For proper, long term partners, definitely. He’s a little shallow and won’t go much older than he is, but neither will he go much younger, and by “much”, I mean she has to be a grown woman with the maturity to match. He’s not interested in teenagers, they’re still kids, and kids shouldn’t think about that stuff. Obviously, older!Charon doesn’t give a fried fuck, his employers could be 19 or 90 as long as they’re breathing.

LAYER EIGHT: IN A BOY OR GIRL

Best Personality: Younger: Genuine, kind, caring, monogamous. Seriously, he has the out of touch mindset of a 1950s poster for a new oven, besides the intense misogyny. That said, he still thinks women have a certain sort of role; he sees it as his job to keep her and the children safe, and hers to take care of the home they put together from within. That means more making sure everyone eats more than polishing the silverware, though. It makes a little more sense in a Fallout setting; having one of them focused on defence and one on offence is pretty logical. He wouldn’t want anyone he loved to be the one getting covered in raider blood. Older: This isn’t really something that ever crosses his mind, but he does admire people with a purpose.

Best Eye Color: Doesn’t matter. He’s weak. 

Best Hair Color: Again. Weak. But he likes blondes.

Best thing to do With a Partner: Younger: Never really had one for any extended period of time, if you catch my drift - but he’d probably like to travel with them. He loves seeing new places, but it’d be nicer if he wasn’t alone. Older: Survive?

LAYER NINE: FINISH THE SENTENCE

I love: [no words - just an image of an empty landscape view and the sun shining on it. seems to be the area surrounding Paradise Falls, but not viewed through a fence]

I feel: Younger: “Lucky.” (I know. But it’s the truth. He’s constantly thankful to still be alive after every owner and every fight). Older: “...”

I hide: Younger: His despair. That’s not something others ought to see, especially if it might affect them. He’s not as certain as he seems about being free one day. Older: Nothing, but he has nothing to hide, really. Just ask.

I miss: Younger: ??? How can he miss anything, when he never had it? Older: He has a vague sense that he used to be capable of a higher level of empathy and independence, but he’s not sure what that feeling is based on. If it’s true, it would be nice.

I WOULD GHOST HUNT WITH HER. also, I mean... he's kinda a ghost or COULd be, so like... maybe could do something what that also?? idk lol

teed z ,, you’re the good kind tho we won’t exorcise u PROMISE. I think translating to FFX she’d be a good tracker of big fiends or particularly nasty ones bc in her source material she goes off chasing this “feeling” she has like there’s someone who can’t move on without help and she can provide that help??? ? On her own she’d suck as an actual fiend hunter though, canonically weakest even if she can use magic better than the others. I am thinking about this now. Hmmm. hmmmmm 

luck-crowned replied to your post “.”

oh man what would that mean when she's around Unsent? would she be affected at all, or would there be some sort of low-level connection, or would she be a destabilizing influence on the Unsent's physical form?

Depends, I think if they were a malicious sort (eg Seymour), she’d be used really easily by them, she’s possessed once or twice in her game, though she threatens to kill Edward under the influence of a dead murderer she doesn’t actually go through with it bc she shakes him off before they get in a legit fight. The possibility is implied though. If they weren’t (someone like Auron, A Normal Non-Weird Person), she’d know they were Unsent and she might have an idea of what they were thinking or feeling as long as it was at the forefront of their mind - but not as a whole, if that makes sense. Like listening to someone talk to themselves from another room. Most of her ghostly interactions are just her hearing voices of dead people not directed at her, its how she figures out what they need before they can go. She does seem to aggravate certain personalities. Like the guy who threatened Edward did it because he didn’t want them in “his” place. The more violent ones and the ones who don’t WANT to move on find her intolerable.

He took a deep breath, chest rising and falling and that pause extending into silence, and let the moment of silence hang between them. Kaladin was sort of like himself in needing that Moment for important questions, wasn't he?

"What, /exactly/, did you mean by that?" Adolin looked up to meet those dark brown eyes and their fathomless depths, and held them. "And speak your truth, honestly, I—"

He steeled himself, from posture to mind, ready for accusations and incriminations, and deliberately did not break his gaze from Kaladin's. "If I'm going to do better by you and yours, then as a highprince, I need to know what I'm working with."

i want the lives of people like me to change—

yes, he had said that, hadn't he? and despite the varied forms of discomfort that often came in the wake of his slowly shifting, ever-changing views, he still means it... perhaps most of all, perhaps more than anything.

but— " it's... " he begins, letting the word trail off into silence, his expression hardening into a frown, thoughtful. his gaze becomes unfocused and he seems to shift inward, trying desperately to figure out exactly what it is he means in a way that adolin could understand, figure out exactly how to phrase it.

in truth, the words had come as more of a feeling, an until-then unspoken yearning to be something more than simply expendable, like some stone in a wall— useful but ultimately forgotten— like any other brick.

people like him— well, the man he used to be, before— they were never extraordinary. they were permanently bound in one way or another to the circumstances of their birth, their lives all-but already planned out ahead of them. and he should have been no different. how many times should he have surely died by now? it's unfair, truly. and honestly, it is that feeling, more than any other, that drives him forward now.

the question is genuine; adolin will try. he knows that by now, knows him better than he knows himself sometimes, somehow. even so, he won't like the answer given him. he cannot change the whole of the world alone. and kaladin does not expect that of him, truly. maybe then, to be simple heard is good enough for now.

" people like me— like who i was— if anything had been different, i would never have met you. i would have lived and died as any other dark-eyed soldier. we would not be standing here. how many walk that same path simply because they believe it the only one? that is what i mean.

important question, adolin says. and kaladin's head tilts ever-so slightly, a brow raising, concern and curiosity in his expression in equal measure... at least, for a brief moment. upon meeting adolin's gaze— and following it— it becomes glaringly obvious that the forthcoming conversation is likely not important at all. still, he can think of no reason not to humor him.

they are... friends now, after all.

and so, he stands there wearing a visible sort of patience that would only be apparent to someone who knows him well. and adolin does. and as the question— after a rather long wait— reveals itself, he is briefly, visibly caught off-guard. silent, he thinks, blinks.

" what? " it's not a real question, a real response. it's merely a reaction. he's correctly heard him, of course. and though, in truth, he is hardly surprised by the topic of conversation when he thinks about, there is something... amusing about how adolin manages to catch him unaware from time-to-time still.

he frowns slightly, almost as though he's really considering his answer; and though his tone is as to-the-point as ever, he's far from put off, in truth. " why would i need something special to wear? "

again, the question is almost rhetorical. nearly every middlefest he's ever had the time and freedom to celebrate has occurred in a far smaller setting than this. and he matters now; people will be watching... and even if they weren't, it's very clearly important to adolin. that's enough for him, for now, at least.

and so, his expression softens, though he continues to eye the other man, still seeming to consider him, thoughtful. the next question is the first that is genuine... even teasing in its delivery.

" you have a plan already, don't you? "

as i'm sure you are well aware, i haven't spent nearly as much time with artifacts and their lore as i should have by now... but, i'm actually not mad about the supposed best sets for each of these guys. so, let's discuss—

for ayato, the echoes of an offering is his best set and i actually really like the lore tidbits we get from it. i think it suits him well, particularly because of the goblet: this teacup forever overflows with fresh water; perhaps it was a gift from an adeptus, one of their relics, or just something they left behind. yeah, i just know he likes the idea of the moon on his desk.

for tighnari, the deepwood memories is his best set and, though i know it's quite popular with a lot of builds— for good reason— i do really like the goblet in particular: this was originally an oil lamp in the style of the desert realm, but has since sprouted fluorescent green leaves. i don't know about you, but that sounds rather a bit like him to me.

when hp is reduced to 0 while under the effect of living dead, instead of becoming ko'd, most attacks will not lower your hp below 1. if— before the timer expires— an amount of hp totaling your maximum is not restored, you will be ko'd.

this is about to become a 'personal lore' dump. so, i implore you to strap yourselves in!

there it is again, that oh-so very adolin endearment— and that is what it is at this point, he knows, despite himself, quite well— bridgeboy. well-practiced by now, kaladin makes a point, before even fully parsing the statement, to quickly shift and throw a frown at the other man... just in time to catch him as he slaps him on the shoulder, passing by with a grin that is also, he notes, oh-so very adolin.

it takes him a moment to catch up. but, he does. and then, he stands there, blinking as surprised as he is confounded. " i— " but, by the time he's found his voice, there's no chance to shoot back some witty reply. adolin's back is already to him and he's being left behind, the other man now a decent ways ahead.

storms. he's been got and he knows it. well, at least for now, anyway... he'll have his chance to come back eventually. and so, without another word, he makes a point to catch up, his strides long and unintentionally graceful. soon enough, he's just a step behind. " what are you talking about, kholin? of course i do. " but, even as he says the words, he knows they're... well, a little left of the truth.

he's tired. and so, it's hardly fair. then again, when has anything ever been that way? were he anyone else, he'd have hit the floor face-first and— dazed and defeated— simply laid there. however, he has just enough sense to to twist the aether around him and stop himself from making a complete fool of himself. at least, he doesn't hit with his face. but, he's still left prone, sprawled out for a moment before he yanks himself up with a start, teeth gritted and frowning.

" i shouldn't be surprised no one ever taught you manners. " as rapidly as he can manage, he fires back. apparently, there's no sympathy to be found for the elderly to be found here. again, that's hardly surprising.