Fantasy ⇁☾ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀꜱꜱᴇɴɢᴇʀꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴄᴀʀ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ - Character Sheets ☉↼

[Owl Knight]

⇁☾ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀꜱꜱᴇɴɢᴇʀꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴄᴀʀ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ ☉↼
Character Sheets


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Spoiler: Character Guidelines

1. All characters should be grounded and realistic. These are everyday 2023 city dwellers caught up in a fantastical adventure. No secret assassins or half-angel time travelers, lol.
2. The things they bring with them should be things they would reasonably carry on a daily basis. Maaaaybe some characters would reasonably carry a weapon, but that can be on a case by case basis.
3. 18+ encouraged, but not absolutely required.

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Spoiler: Character Sheet

(realistic face claim)
Name:

Age:

Description:

Occupation:

What were you wearing on the subway?:

What did you bring with you in the subway?:

Writing Sample: (describe your character's morning leading up to boarding car 3)

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[Owl Knight]

Barnaby Collins
Age: 32

Description: A diminutive man at 5' 8", bookish and slightly chubby around the middle from a few too many coffee shop croissants and a few too few trips to the campus gym. Barnaby generally avoids conflict and prefers to exercise the muscle between his ears. As an academic type, he can sometimes get carried away with philosophizing, which might lead others to take the lead in situations requiring decisive action. Deep down he doesn't feel up to par with his fellow academics, so he masks his insecurity with the trappings of a stereotypical English professor. In his youth he was the type who would lament being born in the wrong generation, and, although his viewpoints have matured, he can still often be seen bumbling around campus in tweeds and bow-ties.

Occupation: Barnaby is a PHD candidate and part time teacher at a small but well thought of city university. His studies are focused on English literature, in particular the writers of the romantic period.

What were you wearing on the subway?: Barnaby boarded the subway with his standard teaching uniform, a tweed jacket and brown wool slacks, a dated sweater-vest, and a hand tied bow tie.

What did you bring with you in the subway?: Barnaby brought a brown leather side satchel containing a stack of half graded essays, his journal and fountain pen, a cream cheese bagel wrapped in a napkin, and a copy of the poems of William Blake.

Writing Sample: (describe your character's morning leading up to boarding car three)

Barnaby was late, as usual. Indeed the day would not have felt part of his usual routine if he did not check off at least three boxes on the cliche university professor bingo card before he even finished his lukewarm black coffee. He hastily wrapped his bagel in a paper towel and shoved it into his side satchel beside a worn and annotated copy of the poems of Blake which he would be teaching from that morning, assuming his lateness didn't result in his student getting a somewhat deserved free day. He adjusted his tie briefly in the front hall mirror and brushed past the one speed bike that he had purchased under the grandiose delusion that he would be able to work his way up to becoming a bike commuter. After a few token attempts the bike had been relegated to a conversation piece and the metro card had been fished back out of his sock drawer for a return engagement.


The January chill still hung in the air, though it was marked with the peculiar humidity which had been intermittent throughout the holidays. Barnaby's somewhat rumpled tweed jacket and thrift store sweater vest were enough to dull the cold for his short walk to the subway access stairs at the end of his block. The city was bustling with commuters as he descended the steps, avoiding a puddle of pee at the first landing and found himself amid the throng waiting on the far side of the turnstiles, awash in the smell of old bleach and mildew.


He moved down to the far end of the platform, away from the majority of the crowd who all stood doing their best to avoid eye-contact with their fellow soon to be passengers. A few other enterprising introverts had the same idea. The cars further back from the front were generally less crowded, at least at these early stops.


The train pulled up with its usual screeching fanfare and Barnaby piled on with the rest of the tunnel travelers, finding a corner seat where he might just be able to squeeze in a little reading before he reached his stop. It was 9:10. If the train ran on time and he made a run from the university station to the humanities building, he might just make it in time to salvage what was left of his class time.


He cracked open his copy of Blake and found his eyes settling halfway through "Jerusalem"

And did the Countenance Divine,
Shine forth upon our clouded hills?
And was Jerusalem builded here,
Among these dark Satanic Mills?

There was a bump and a screech. Barnaby nearly dropped his book in surprise. The subway was rarely a smooth ride, but he had never experienced a jolt of that strength. Glancing around he could see some of his fellow passengers looking various shades of perturbed, even mildly alarmed, but as the shaking did not repeat, he slowly settled back into his reading.

Bring me my Bow of burning gold:
Bring me my arrows of desire:
Bring me my Spear: O clouds unfold!
Bring me my Chariot of fire!

As if on cue, no sooner had his eyes scanned over the last line of the stanza, then a sudden almighty lurch hurled him from his seat to come crashing onto the floor of the bus beside another passenger who screamed at the sudden convulsion of the train car. Barnaby was just able to grasp the glasses that had been thrown from his face when the car lurched again. He felt his stomach drop as the car seemed to rise, hang for a moment, and then plummet, crash, tip and plummet again. Detritus swirled about the cab as though submerged in violently churning water and through the haze of terror, Barnaby was dimly aware of a rushing roaring sound like the rumble of an oncoming hurricane, conjoined with another sound almost akin to the howling of some great a dreadful animal.

Lights flashed and swirled meaninglessly past the shattered windows in a hundred colors, some of which he was sure he had never seen before. Someone had grabbed his sleeve and was hanging on for dear life. he thought it was the passenger who had fallen beside him but he couldn't be sure. His senses were overwhelmed by the spinning and lurching as the train car seemed to gyrate against the laws of the physical world. The maelstrom of cacophonous sound drowned out his terrified screams.

Then there was a final crashing lurch, and the car was still. Above the panicked wails of his fellow passengers, Barnaby was dimly aware of the total absence of sound save for the rustle of a light breeze. A strange bright like, like sunlight, but somehow cooler of hue, gleamed down at him through the annihilated windows of the cab. Doing his best to avoid the shattered glass that littered the floor of the train, he stood and took his first look out at what he could only conclude was a dream.

 

[spacepanda]

" B I R D I E "

Name: Feather "Birdie" Kiều

Age: 54

Description: Feather, or 'Birdie' as she is more commonly known, is a middle-aged woman of Vietnamese descent born in the late '60s. She stands at only 5'0" tall and can usually be seen in bright colors brandishing a wide smile. Having grown up in the era of free love, she traveled all over the country with her parents when she was younger as they followed music festivals and led a mostly nomadic life. She recalls fondly her younger years and still finds herself living a new age life of spiritualism, inner peace, and love. She has, as of a year ago, decided to "embrace the grey," allowing her hair to naturally transition from a deep lustrous black to a more salt-and-pepper style. She tends to find herself in a mediator-type role when conflicts are involved, although one or both parties may not appreciate her calm demeanor (which may appear condescending at times.) Still, she enjoys an environment where people work together and get along, priding herself in her ability to never be too quick to judge someone.

Occupation: Elementary school art teacher at a private school for children of the... overly funded.

Current Attire: The work attire of an art teacher is generally lax, and the school that employs Birdie is no exception - in fact, the school is even laxer than others in the area, and the teachers are free to wear pretty much anything they don't mind getting dirty. And so finds Birdie in a thin cotton long-sleeved shirt (cuffed at the wrist for ease of painting,) patchwork overalls of an assortment of colors and fabrics, and a pair of platform flip-flops for that extra boost in height. Her left hand is adorned with numerous rings of gold and jade, her glasses, a tortoiseshell pattern, and her earrings a combination of metal and silk tassel.

Possessions On Hand: Birdie had with her a tie-dyed canvas tote bag that contained the following:

⟡ One 3.5-ounce glass bottle of paintbrush restorer
⟡ Infuser water bottle with clementine slices/water inside
⟡ Bento box filled with quinoa, grilled chicken, and titanium spork wrapped in a thick napkin for lunch
⟡ Plain black glasses case with a red microfiber cloth inside
⟡ Make-up bag with extra hair ties, a compact mirror, a tube of lipstick, and a small pill case with 3 tablets of an antacid inside
⟡ A small metal wallet that contains her state ID (she has no driver's license) and a debt card
⟡ New unopened box of tissues for the classroom

Writing Sample: Birdie started her morning like any other- with yoga to get her blood flowing, meditation to clear her mind, and a warm bath with patchouli oil to reset her senses. She enjoyed her breakfast of toasted raisin bread with a cup of tea, spritzed the assortment of succulents and plants strewn about her home with water, and flipped over a tarot card from her deck for a quick morning reading. The three of pentacles reversed. She had contemplated it for a moment, wondering if perhaps there was a teachers' assembly she had forgotten about scheduled for that day, but in the end she sighed, accepted her fate, and gathered her belongings for the fifteen-minute walk to the subway.

________​

A sudden screech and jolt of the subway car caught Birdie off-guard. She had been mid-drink when her teeth collided with the glass rim of her water bottle, causing a pulsating pain to radiate up her gums. The jolt had been alarming, but once the car had settled into its' usual bumps and sounds Birdie capped her water bottle and returned it to her tote bag. Her tongue ran against the front inside of her mouth in an attempt to somehow massage the pain in her gums away, and it almost seemed to work when-

Scccccrrrrreeeeeeeeeeeeecccchh, BANG!

The passenger car lurched forward, and Birdie nearly bit her tongue as she was thrown awkwardly across the car, only just managing to secure her arms around one of the car's stanchions. She held on fiercely, her nails digging into the cold pole, searching for some purchase in a hulk of metal that somehow now seemed to be shaking and convulsing. She could not hear her heartbeat over the panicked yells and screams of the other passengers, but she could feel it deep like a war drum against her chest. The car continued its jouncing forward and back, up and down, in strange nonsensical ways that seemed both impossible and overtly frightening. Had there been an earthquake? A sinkhole? Terrorists?! No amount of meditation that morning could stop the torrent of thoughts pushing against her brain at this moment. An eerie cacophony of startled shouts, rushing wind, and mechanical wails filled the air and Birdie had to resort to keeping her eyes closed as debris flew about the cabin. But it's hard to keep ones eyes closed when also attempting to regain one's balance, and so Birdie found herself, chest heaving, eyes open again, staring at the ceiling and praying to any god that would listen.

A kaleidoscope of colors overtook the area and Birdie felt herself stop breathing, is this it? With a final lurch Birdie found herself once again being thrown again the aisle, her body now half on the seat she had been in minutes before and half on someone else's back. Light filtered through what was left of the car windows and with shaking hands Birdie uprighted herself.

"Are... are we dead?" She asked mostly to herself, because wherever the car was now it certainly wasn't the subway, and just before all the chaos had ended she swore she had seen a piece of heaven. Of colors both spectral and refreshing, new and familiar... and now she could barely recall any of it.

 

[Owl Knight]

spacepanda this is wonderful! Definitely approved!

 

[devindevout]

⌦ ▓ P R Y A H ▓ 2 3 ▓ C A S H I E R ▓ ⌫​

[[ ⚤ T H E Y / T H E M ⚤]] ​

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Pryah is a smallish individual, standing at a mere 5'2", ( 5'3" if they stand up really really straight ) and is acutely aware of this fact. ​

Not insecure, just very aware.​

They rock a mangey pixie cut , which slides along the spectrum of yellow to dark green during most months but as everything, is ​

subject to change. They dress for comfort, not style, and because of this they exude an energy of nonchalance and contentedness. ​

Generally a well worn hoodie and a pair of reliable, loose fitting, dark colored jeans is the go-to, and on the day of the train incident ​

this was as true as ever. In fact, Pryah's wardrobe could be considered something happily between corporate goth and grunge;​

dark, utilitarian, and thrifted. ​

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​

【 T H E G A S S T A T I O N 】​

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It's a tale as old as time: Pryah needed a job, The Gas Station was hiring, Pryah applied, Pryah no longer needs a job, The Gas Station ​

is always hiring. It's a pretty cut and dry set of tasks, typical retail stuff; putting stuff on shelves, taking money in exchange for goods ​

and services etc., etc. The passion, the drama, the fulfillment. Anyway, it pays the bills and passes the time between waking up and ​

going to sleep. Minimum wage, understaffed, and poor management; the American dream.​

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【 T H E A T T I R E 】​

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I mean, there is no finer or more efficient method of storage and portability than a backpack. Inside of Pryah's backpack is a modest ​

assortment of personal belongings one might need for a healthy and productive day at work; makeup, old receipts, crumpled bills of ​

various amounts totaling 32 American dollars, a few worn thrifted novels, a trifold vel-cro wallet, a thick black knitted beanie, a notebook ​

with a no. 2 pencil stuffed between its pages, a bottle of dark blue nail polish, and a gas station egg salad sandwich still in the packaging.​

Pryah's trusty but dull silver folding pocket knife stays where it always does, clipped to the inside of the front pocket of their fading balck-grey ​

cargo jeans. Contained within the aforementioned jean pockets are a few more crumpled up receipts, 2 additional folded dollar bills, a ​

yellow paper clip, 42 cents, their obsolete yet functional smartphone which has been paid off for over a year now and sports a daring ​

spiderweb crack across the screen, and the case which only houses their wireless earbuds during work hours. Those earbuds are currently in​

Pryah's ears blasting whatever tune best illustrates the general vibe of the train car that morning. It's The Mountain Goats. Why is it always The ​

Mountain Goats? They don't even like them that much. ​

Their hands are stuffed into the front pocket of one of their most heavily trafficked hoodies fidgeting with a brightly colored rubber 'I ❤ BOOBIES' ​

bracelet as they try and fail to make sense of the lyricism of this band. Who knows? They don't think the songwriters themselves have a clue what​

they're talking about and yet somehow its so relatable. It is a thick and warm and somewhat scuffed up solid black sweatshirt with the embroidered ​

logo of some local college on the front and Pryah loves the way it kind of smells like mothballs and old cigarettes. There's actually a small hole ​

burned on the elbow of the sweatshirt where Pryah mistakenly ashed the burning coal of a cigarette onto their own arm. They have their feet kicked ​

up on the empty space beside them, taking up valuable sitting area for the astonishing lack of people on the subway this morning. They have to ​

rest their legs now, they won't be appreciating the lack of arch supports their chucks provide them with by the end of their 8 hour shift. Not like the ​

walk from their apartment was particularly long or arduous, but still. Be kind to your body or whatever. Be kind to your body and to the environment.​

Ride the train and put your feet up. It's not like they don't have a drivers license, its just, who lives in the city and can afford a car? Plus the traffic is ​

atrocious in the mornings. ​

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【 T H A T M O R N I N G 】​

It was as uneventful as any other weekday morning. Wake up, put on least smelly clothes (luckily yesterday was laundry day) , drink the remaining half ​

of last night's Redbull, be surprised at the survival of carbonation. Heat up and reluctantly consume a microwavable burrito, and then brush teeth. ​

Grab backpack and stuff refrigerated gas station egg salad sandwich into the largest pocket, retrieve phone and earbuds from chargers, throw on some ​

tunes, hit the road. Typical ish. It was colder than expected and the sweatshirt wasn't enough, but they were already running 15 minutes late, (be kind to ​

your body and sleep through your alarm) so there was no turning back now. There was a beanie in the bag if things got dire. As of right now, things were ​

not dire enough to ruin the artfully disheveled bedhead they were pleasantly surprised to wake up with. ​

The atmosphere of the walk to the subway regretfully called for a soundtrack accompaniment by The Smiths. This was a guilty pleasure band for Pryah. ​

Everyone knows Morrissey was kind of a jerk, but there's a reason this fact never impeded the band's career.​

The fully immersive experience of Pryah's 8 minute walk to the subway: sidewalk, sidewalk, sidewalk, the sad happy sad British crooning of 'Heaven Knows ​

I'm Miserable Now', sidewalk, roadwork, homeless guy, song change, road rage Honda Civic, sidewalk, sidewalk, old piece of gum, a sad and poetic little bit ​

of moss growing out of the dirty gravel filled cracks in the more sidewalk, a particularly aggressive looking broken beer bottle, a cigarette stub, putrid smoke ​

and oily puddles, sidewalk, and finally the cold unwelcoming thick metal rungs of the bike racks and benches lining the platform you stand wait for the train on.​

Can you picture it? Magnificent. ​

The train rolled up right on time, and because they were doing odd numbers this week. Pryah walked the extra few steps to board the car marked 3, and stepped ​

across the threshold unceremoniously. Another day another dollar.​

 

[Owl Knight]

devindevout love it, approved!

 

[BuggaBoo]

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And who pulls the strings...

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"Corki" - Corinna-Kiana Chanter- The Skater/Surfer Chick

Tik-Talkie, Click, 'Magia'

She/Her | 20yrs | 5'7" | 130lbs | Black Hair | Brown Eyes | Tan Skin | Athletic Build
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This is Corki...

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~Description:​

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Looks:

Corki is an athletic girl who works out on the daily. She takes her physical fitness seriously and will show off the results by wearing fancy yet tight or skimpy outfits much to her parents dismay. Her go to daily fashion however is just plain white shirts cut up or re-sewn to accent her assets. She loves to wear coveralls and denim that workmen use due to the bagginess of the fit. She has purple tipped hair normally kept long and in threaded twin braids. Her shoes and boots always have their signature 'Magical' pink painted upon them. And of course, she will always be seen on a skateboard.​

Piercings/Tats/Scars: ​

Ears, tongue, navel and hood pierced. Ink done on back, arms, butt, legs, ankles and feet. Scars all across her body, major one on left arm and right knee.​

Acts:

+ Easy-going, Very Playful and Light-hearted ​

+ Very Bold, Chatty and Welcoming​

+ Sly, Glib, and Witty​

+ Quick reflexes, Steel-nerved, and Daring ​

​

- Impulsive/Random and Lacks Filter​

- Can't sit still, fools around too much, rebel ​

- Talks too Much. No, like really Talks Too MUCH​

- Adrenaline Junkie that pushes too far too often.​

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~Occupation:​

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Corki was a former pro skater/surfer with a bit of clout but mostly known for her incessant flame wars on her socials and now for her upstart 'urban couture' fashion brand 'ChroniCal'. Friends and fam call her 'Click' due to her making incessant clicking sounds when she is bored or when she is thinking. Sometimes they call her 'Tik-Talkie' for obvious reasons, however her nickname was 'Magia' on the skater/surfer scene because sure, she performed like it was magic but also for her pre-run rituals whereby she chanted a mantra of sorts and it sounded like she was casting a spell. Nasty injury to both knees required surgery and ultimately ended her pro career. ​

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~Attire and Accesories:​

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Unfortunately, the girl was out partying all night with her rowdy Lowdown crew during their 'Emo Stripper Pole Barbie' night:​

• Bottom half consists of black booty-shorts, fishnets, and clean white kicks with her signature Magical Pink painted on them.
• Top half has barely a very, very short, torn, black and white croptop that allows the white of her bra to peek out
• Arms are lined with bandannas and bracelets. Studded leather bands and cutoff gloves played off as an accent. Fingertips painted with all rainbow'y goodness.
• Neck sports a choke collar and chains with some silly yet fancy trinkets dangling from them.
• Face is done up with heavy dark eye makeup and lipliner, gold piercings to match her chains and bellybutton gold and rings on her fingers.
• Raven hair done up in twin ponytails, purple streaks, accesorized with flower hairclips, and of course a soft white flower tucked behind an ear
• Fortunately is wearing a full length black overcoat to cover it all up.

This is what she had with her at the time:​

• Big cat-eye shaped Sunglasses
• Big-ass cellphone with a case that has multi coloured LEDs that flash in time with music or when receiving notifs.
• Cosmetics bag with all her kitch makeup, hair ties, braid threads, lip balm, mini double-ended fidget spinner, hand sani, a mini first aid and of course a fat bag of weed and collapsible pipe.
• Leather wallet chain with business cards, stickers, $20 cash (but doesn't realize she has singles stuffed in her top, bottoms and even shoes lol)
• Water bottle that may or may not be harbouring plain water
• Cigarettes and special Zippo lighter
• 3 sharpies; one fat, one reg, one gold paint.
• Black skateboard deck with purple wheels.

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~To Subway Car 3...​

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It was cold this morning and yet there she still sat on the stoop outside of her friends' warehouse. ​

​

Another long drawn out groan as another cringey moment re-surfaced. The memory slipped through the steely doors of her mind that just wanted to forget such things transpired and bury it all down. Deep down. ​

​

Did she reeeeeally just do her best Miley Cyrus twerking routine from that balcony...? A half-scoff, half-laugh escaped her as she could hear the phantom memory voice of Wicky leading the chant to 'poop it out' as she did her little cheek juggling routine. Corki shook her head and reached out blindly, seeking out the water bottle she had dropped somewhere on the concrete. She could not see right now, she was too busy facepalming as another memory from the hall of cringe wormed its way up into her mind's eye. A cigarette would be nice right about now but the gurgling in her stomach at the moment said no. Full stop. ​

​

An annoyed yowl she let out as her cell phone buzzed and lit up with all the life she refused to engage with right now. And well, that 'I'm a Barbie Girl...!' ringtone was not so cute in the morning after, now was it? The girl actually growled as she rolled and squirmed around on the concrete trying valiantly to free the huge rumbling slab from her back pocket. ​

"Hiiiii, mommy...! Yeah... yeah... I'm all goods... I'm-- ey, just a sec-- Mom. Mom...! Bruh... MAMA, calm down 'kay...?! Sheeeesh... yeah... yeah, I know, I know... I sent that text when I was at Eliza's warehouse party-- yes. Yes, of course, I was partying. Ughhhs... c'mon, man, I'm 20 now! Yeah, well-- welllll... well I-- Yes, mother I know I'm not in Canada any more!! But ey! Ey, now I'm a big girl now!​

​

"That's the sound of your big girl on her deck. I'm outside now. No. No, mom. Mom...! I AM sober... DUDE, like do you not know your own kid?! Yeeeeeahhh... say it again, Mama... that's right, I am 'La Magia...' damn straight, bitches!! No. I did not. No, I didn't!! I said; 'bitches,' as in addressing the people that don't know my name, like I'm soooo not calling you that, cuz I would never ever-- what? Ughhh... wait. Mom. Just a sec. Just a sec--​

​

"--Yeah right! Yeah, you wish, buddy!! Ey! Austin Powers called... he wants his teeth back! Yeah, you're 'number one' right back atcha' Pervie ass, creep--​

​

"--Hello...? Yeah, I'm back. No, I'm fine. Just some dickhead. Wellll like maybe cuz I'm on the phone with you and I'm skating right now, Mama...? Yes, you did raise me better than that..! YES, I'm sober! Sheeesh...​

​

"My gosh, yes, I know I still have a business to run-- WUT?! How did you see those?! Oh. My. Gosh. I'mma kill him... I know what it looks like, mom but I swear it was only for the party... I know, I know-- ughhhh... you saw those too, eh? Dang... I... I uhhhh... what?! No, mother, I am not! Ummm cuz like ya' kid be kinda' all about the 'girl-on girl-actiones-only' over here-- yeah, well-- well... MOM! Calm down! Callllllmmmmm-uh... I'm not pregnant! Witch was with me. CC too. Yeah, that CC. And like so was Markie and her bestie Dee, so yeah... right. That's right. Lowdown Crew always gots my back. Hell yeah... ​

​

"I'm on my way back to the hotel. No, yeah, the comp was soooooo sick...!! They reeeally upped the tour since I was last on it. And like I met with the execs and my old surfing team. Yeah, DJ too. Yeah, yeah like she is doing sooooo awesomes fo'sho! No, I was just a judge... hahahahah... yeah, sooooo like ya' baby girl just miiiiiiight have given her the 'benefit of the doubt...' yeah for real, for real, like she said that if she has the chance she would soooooo be down to come visit the Island. Yeah, she still loves you too!! She still had hella nice things to say 'bout you... and like she soooo right too; you the bestest Mama ever.

Yeah, you did raise me right... you did. And yeah, like fo'sho I'll send some pics to you. You will sooooooo love the landscapes I snapped of the Atlantic... oh! And I have even more pics for you to approve for my Only Fans-- KIDDING!! I jokes, only jokes-- mom! No, don't go on that site. No, pleeeeese. Mommy, no. I am sooooo not on there. I swear it was just a joke... hahahahah... nawwww well it's a good heart. It's strong 'nuff. ​

​

"Kay. Well I'm here now. Subway. Yeah gotta' go. Yeah I know. I know-- my gosh, yes, I will change my panties! Mama! Like wut you even on about?! Anywaaaaays... yeah. Yeah I will. You too. Kay, yeah. Yeah, I'mma pack and I'll call you when I'm at the airport. Yeah. Kay, yeah, you too. Love you too, mommy. ​

​

"I'll see you soon. Fo'sho..." ​

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[Owl Knight]

BuggaBoo awesome. Approved!

 

[diogenesUnchained]

Name: Cade Acklin

Age: 20

Description: While technically 6'3", his incredible slouch makes him look 5'11". His attitude is similarly unintimidating, always either looking like he's staring off into space, incredibly tired of life, or quietly fed up with a given situation. Ironically enough given his planned profession, Cade suffers from chronic conditions like tendonitis and asthma, on top of both a leg injury, and often just getting sick very easily. He earned the bags under his eyes and unkempt hair with sleepless nights studying. Has a strange sweet tooth and will usually have some sort of candy on him. He especially finds lollipops soothing while studying or when he's more stressed than usual. Doesn't look very physically strong, but while he doesn't work out he can still hold his own lifting heavy things. There seems to be a very quiet mental strength about him, as any med student and orphan would need to make it through life. His sparkle, however, is long gone, and is instead replaced by a quiet fire to make it through med school and into the world beyond.

Occupation: Second year med student at a somewhat nowhere university in the city. Just looking for his medical license, and affords tuition with financial aid and government assistance from his parents passing away.

What were you wearing on the subway?: Attire more appropriate for an actual hospital setting, Cade almost looks like a practicing doctor if it weren't for his age and unprofessional grooming habits. The lab coat was a gag gift from his parents at a young age when it was far too big for him, but ever since he fit into it, he's been wearing it on any day it wasn't being washed (which should have been yesterday).

What did you bring with you in the subway?: Cellphone, wallet, inhaler, A black backpack containing 3 textbooks, a laptop w/charger, composition notebook, and a first aid kit. A cane is strapped to the side of the bag for if his leg ever acted up, which was rare these days, but he keeps it just in case. The only thing that ever changed was the titles of the textbooks.

Writing Sample: (describe your character's morning leading up to boarding car 3)

The repeated beeping came with the almost instant shooting open of Cade's eyes, completely on instinct. He stretched and woke himself up to his dingy apartment room before instantly getting into his morning routine. Luckily today was his "day off", meaning his first class was at 10 AM instead of 8 AM like every other day of the week. Sometimes he wondered if he was taking too many credits at once, but the thought quickly passed in the fog of his morning routine. Brushing his teeth, getting dressed, grabbing a fistful of candy from the bowl, etc. In the final step, grabbing his old lab coat, Cade gave it a quick sniff to see if it was still good, and made a bit of a face before shrugging and putting it on anyways.

His walk to the station wasn't far, he chose a pretty convenient place to live ever since he lost priority for on campus housing. Getting to the platform, he trudged through some sort of discolored wet spot without a second glance, his movements a mix of automatic and uncaring. Cade stood there, blinking one eye at a time and staring off a million miles away, ears perking up only at the robotic announcement of the next arriving train. Like clockwork, at 9:00, the train arrived and he stepped on. It was unusual for him to find a seat open around this time, but there were several, and Cade plopped down, leaning back and thinking about the day to come, managing to fall asleep almost instantly. He always woke up at the right stop though, his body was trained for it at this point.

Sleep was the only place where he allowed himself to think of something other than school, taking the topic of his personal dreams far too literally. He thought about how it would feel when he would finally make it out of here and get into his medical residency of choice, not that he knew what his specialty would be exactly yet. It was only his second year but it felt like far longer, and he was already far more tired than he was in high school. He didn't even know who he was doing this for anymore. He didn't have any real friends, and the parents who pushed him into this were long gone. Still, he was determined, and he was busy reflecting on that determination in the relative peace of his mind when it was interrupted by deafening sound from all angles

The car began to put him through the wash cycle his jacket so desperately needed, but drier and with far more bruises by the end. The car tumbled through space, flashing with colors and sound, throwing him back, and forth, almost causing him to lose what little food he had eaten this morning, until the car finally rested in place. Light poured through the windows, and outside through the shattered glass and pain, Cade struggled to his feet and saw abundant green life, bathed in a gentle blue.

 

[Owl Knight]

diogenesUnchained great! Approved.