It's not the same, something's changed // I never used to be able to see past the trees // A thousand unfamiliars are lying thick on the air and I can't breathe.
Rusty Craven: Faun Ranger
-outfit from img 1
-capelet from img 2
-Horns and makeup from img 3
Despite Duck's admonishing for being uncreative, Rusty's costume did turn out rather well done, nose painted black and an old shirt too big for him and likely part of Lee's former wardrobe repurposed into something more fitting of a DND character than his usual uniform or punk getup, Rusty's preference for dressing comfortably has yet to be defeated by even the constant, nagging weight of whimsy. He's not on the job for the festival, which has freed him up entirely to be a menace to Reggie and Jack, consistently loitering around stalls and running drinks back and forth between his significant others. He's visibly in far higher spirits than he has been, but if that has anything to do with the few spirits he's imbued, that remains to be seen.
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I was more than just a body in your passenger seat
You were more than just somebody I was destined to meet
I see you go half blind when you're looking at me,
But I am.
Encouraged to dress perhaps a little less like he's married to his career by Sissy Boone, Rusty Craven's made the trip to the hoedown after a haircut, a beard trim, and the time to make himself look somewhat presentable. His usual burgundy cowboy hat sits on cropped short hair- and while paired with Mateo Suarez- Someone he views more as a child than any sort of partner- His gaze doesn't seem to have much issue settling for just a touch too long on other men, notably Jeconiah Abbott or Reggie Alson while he crosses his fingers that nobody notices the way his cheeks nearly match the red of his slacks.
I'd rather be alone than freezing
Stranded with my own worst demons
I'm better on the road I feel it in my bones
I'm not looking for a home for my headstone
With a heart that's cold, I'm a monument so old
It's nothing I don't know
The vines are overgrown
But I'm not looking for a home for my headstone
The galaxy and her arms, covered in freckles and scars...
The road outside my house is paved with good intentions. Hired a construction crew 'cause it's hell on the engine.
"I'm Rusty Craven, I'm 35 years old, and I'm the Head Forest Ranger for Huntsville. I have no children of my own, but am raising my niece Genesis Boone after the death of her parents in 2011, as we're each other's only remaining family. I was a soldier in the US military up until my return to Huntsville, and it was in the military where I became friends with Duck Romero, who was my commanding officer. I'm a born Huntsville native, but I was disowned by my family at 17 years old and sent to military school upon coming out as Gay. My husband Lee and I are well liked by the people of the town, and I am ambivalent toward the commune. My most prevalent vice is lingering on my past."
Personality: There's not a soul in Huntsville with a foul word to say about Russ Craven. A loving man with a big heart and an open-door policy for anyone who might need a shoulder to cry on, or even a warm dinner and a spare bed to sleep in, Rusty would give the shirt off his back to lighten the weight on another's shoulders. A responsible, bright man, he's easily flustered when it comes to anything romantic or sexual, coloring stark red in the face and stammering his way out of the conversation as quickly as possible. Despite his pleasant demeanor, there's a distinct sadness still lingering within him, the loss of his husband six years ago still too fresh to cope with some nights, and the knowledge that had they never returned, he may be alive haunting his quiet hours. He puts a happy face on to protect the people that matter to him, and to most of the younger kids around Huntsville, "Uncle Rusty" is less a statement of his relation to them, and more of their clear trust and affection for the man.
Occupation: Head Ranger of the Monongahela Parks and Game Forest Rangers. One of few remaining.
Affiliations: The Townsfolk of Huntsville, The US Military (veteran), Monongahela Parks and Game.
Scent Profile: Dirt and diesel, something faintly spicy, earthy, meaty like a carefully cooked, well rounded dinner. Pine and maple sap as well as a clinging sweetness from a cologne a touch more feminine than one would assume of Rusty's appearance, and cigarette smoke, a vice he falls victim to more often than he cares to admit.
Aesthetic: A crowded but clean kitchen, something that smells like home cooking away on the stove. An old tube TV quietly playing reruns of a sitcom from the 90s while you slowly drift off to sleep on the couch- the knowledge you'll wake up in your own bed, no matter how big you get. Carefully polished old leather boots starting to show their age, military fatigues worked into general day to day wear, a pride in who he once was, and who he's become. Children's detangling hair spray and multicolored hair ties and beads alongside a beard trimmer and aftershave in the bathroom, framed drawings and old photos of people long since dead dotting hallway walls.
So hum hallelujah, just off the key of reason- I thought I loved you, it was just how you looked in the light.
CHAPTER ONE: LIFE IN HUNTSVILLE POST PARADOX.
Serving now as the head of the ranger team tied to the local forest, Rusty, Duck, and their remaining skeleton crew of rangers serve largely as protection and surveillance for those out on hunting trips to provide food and supplies to the town. He spends a number of nights in the primary ranger station, tracking the movements of ghosts and radioing to other watch points- which has led to him being absent from home, for a number of overnights. With Sissy growing into her own as an adult, Rusty's found himself in a fugue state, the knowledge that he's been single for over half a decade made all the more present with his niece's interest in romance of her own becoming more pressing. He's well aware that the way he lingers on his past is unhealthy- there's no changing where he is now, Huntsville, with Lee long gone. He can put the ache to the side most days, focusing on looking after the people of the town and those who rely on him, often offering up space at the old Boone residence for Sissy's friends and anyone needing time away from their own troubles and a home-cooked meal.
He's nervous and careful, meeting new people, burned from his past and still in the grasp of a long-term loss of his faith, he desperately wants to reach out and have more friends his own age than simply Duck, and perhaps find love again, but options are slim in Huntsville, and love opens him up to sorrow once more, something he's witnessed first hand in the aftermath of Duck's wife dying. He tries his best to find comfort in the strange monotony they've managed to put together in their survival, hunting, cooking, rationing, and scraping by, but some part of him still wants to seek something better- to die lonely in his 30s had never been the plan- it just seems to be his fate, at this rate.
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