My oh my, still no CS's? What
ARE we to do? We had such high hopes for this RP, there was so much potential... Oh, wait, what have we here?
*Pulls Character Sheet from... somewhere*
Basic InfoName: Mason
Pronunciation: It's May, Son
Nicknames: "Raccoon"
Age: 17
Sex: Male
Hair: Black
Eyes: Brown
Tattoos: It's not a tattoo, but a curved scar underneath one of his eyes is the closest thing to one he possesses. He got it around when he was nine, but cannot remember how.
Piercings: None
Height: 5'9"
Weight: 126 lb
Build: Scrawny and gangly as result of his living situation.
Skin: Would be light-brown, except constantly hiding and remaining out of plain view has given him something of a pallid complexion.
Race: Some mix of Caucasian and (Asian) Indian, Caucasian being the more dominant of the two.
StatusBirthplace: Norfolk, Virginia, in a house
Present Home: Norfolk, Virginia, on the streets
Job: Homeless scrounger/ vagrant
Marital Status: Single. Girls don't dig garbage.
Sexual orientation: Straight, although he's also into goat stuff.
Mason's…Appearance: Has a thin, gaunt face that is unmarred aside from the scar underlining one of his eyes. There is usually some dirt caking his cheeks as well, given the infrequency with which he bathes himself.
Clothing: Wears a shirt he has owned for nearly a year, and a pair of jeans that are torn badly in several places, in addition to missing a foot of denim fabric at the bottom of one of the pant legs. His shoes are nearly always mismatched, as he would replace one of them whenever he finds one in better condition. If the size is too large he would use random objects to fill up the extra space, and if too small he would simply cram his feet into them, ignoring the discomfort as it is only temporary.
Personality: Has grown accustomed to people entering and vanishing from his life at regular intervals; as such he is distant at times, although he somehow remains cheerful in spite of his life's circumstances. Often laughs at strange things and occasionally finds himself in trouble because of it. Enjoys laughing at his abysmal existence, poking fun at his own misfortunes with a healthy dose of sarcasm.
Weapon Preferences: Whatever he can put together.
Likes: -The exciting feeling from seeing a pile of garbage that hasn't yet been sifted through for the treasures hidden within.
-He enjoys sleeping under the night sky, as that is a luxury to him that he seldom gets to enjoy, constantly hidden away in relative discomfort as he is.
-Fried chicken. Smelling it has driven him into a frenzy in the past, nearly getting him caught on several occasions.
-Women in high heels. Whenever he sees women in high heels he would gaze at their legs, enraptured.
-Duct tape. It's as valuable as gold to him.
Dislikes: -Well dressed people who smell good are intimidating to him.
-Cats. They hate him, and the feeling is mutual.
-If he finds himself in an area in which he doesn't see a corner to hide in or a possible outlet for escape, he becomes incredibly paranoid- even if there is no apparent danger.
Strengths: -"Macgyver-esque" ingenuity. Mason learned to utilize anything he finds, regardless of how deplorable its condition might be. His very low standards of cleanliness help him in this regard. One example of a garbage-based contraption is a pair of "brick knuckles" Mason fashioned for self-defense. It's composition is: a piece of letter that had once been part of a belt, a small, thick segment of fabric from a winter coat, and a collection of brick fragments. He wrapped the brick pieces up in the cloth, which he then strapped to the belt with duct tape. They weren't the "brass knuckles" he'd heard stories about once before, but they were good enough for him.
-He is adept at doing the little things it takes to survive- he could fade into shadows and avoid attention, always remaining at the boundaries and never in the thick of things, unless his goal is to blend into a crowd (although his lack of cleanliness can make such a task difficult at times). Has a knack for finding escape routes, even very small, cramped ones that wouldn't seem usable for anyone but a child.
-Can be very quick and agile, able to change direction easily and without warning.
-Is eternally aware of his surroundings, which makes it difficult for him to be caught by surprise. He is a very light sleeper and has the uncanny ability to pick out unusual noises, even from a distance.
Weaknesses: -Not physically powerful at all- runs from most altercations, as his speed far exceeds any upper body strength he possesses.
-Can get very fatigued at times, which is a result of his poor diet and inability to get a proper night's sleep.
-Sometimes doesn't know when to stop talking- even when he's by himself.
-Doesn't bathe enough, as he's built up a tolerance for his own stench.
History Mason was the third child of a very poor city woman who was too loving to give him up, and too cowardly to keep him when things got dangerous. Abandoned when he was still quite young, he roamed the populous streets of Norfolk alone for some time before finally being taken in by a pseudo-family of vagrants who provided him with some level of shelter, but not much beyond that.
Eventually they would move on, leaving him behind- however he did learn a great deal from them about how to survive and how to remain hidden. The vagrants left him alone in the hollowed out husk of an abandoned RV where he'd recently taken up sleeping in. He spent some time alone, using the RV as a "base of operations" of sorts, before eventually being joined by a young girl who had wordlessly entered the vehicle one night and fallen asleep beside him. He found the fact that she was so trusting of a complete stranger rather unnerving. Either she detected absolutely nothing threatening about him (which would have given him something of a stunted ego) or she was out of her mind. Either way, he elected not to try speaking with her unless she initiated conversation first.
She never did- she slept in the RV with him for several months of complete silence before disappearing like all the other people in Mason's life. He would've thought the fact that she'd never even said a word to him would've taken away the sting of losing her, but he still missed her company after she'd left. She hadn't smelled nearly as bad as he did, anyway.
In the RV, Mason keeps a pile of trash in the corner that he would occasionally sift through, searching for useful components. Whenever he comes across something potentially useful, he would bring it back to his sad semblance of a home and add it to the pile, to be examined later.
_________________
Learning a simple lesson isn't always simple. Sometimes, you have to slowly lose everything great around you to understand the gravity of your shortcomings. Admit that your egos have grown too large, that you've lost your sense of what you realistically are, and maybe you can repair the road that has broken beneath the weight of your failings. Or maybe you'll just keep going as you've gone, and you'll learn nothing, and eventually, everything around you will become dust. To be honest, that's by far the likeliest of all outcomes.