[ a p p ] {...} => Holly Heights

[timetonegotiate]

STATUS: c o m p l e t e
=> Abandoned


OOC INFORMATION
Player: Dylan
Age: 20
Personal Journal: veebox
Contact Info: versailles.is.a.vampire@gmail.com
Other Characters: N/A

IC INFORMATION
Characters Name: {...}, no name
Age: 10 years of zombie, was in his mid-20's upon death
Canon: Hanna Is Not A Boy's Name
Canon Point: Chapter 3, #141, Here
Species: Zombie, previously Human
Gender: Male
Orientation: Asexual, possibly aromantic or panromantic. Zombie shows no interest in anything of a sexual nature, or sexual attraction to any specific sex/gender. While his sexuality has nothing to do with this, he's shown to be relatively naive on anything sexual, possibly due to his knowledge maybe being reset upon reactivation (seen in various FAQ responses); the details are unclear. He also shows no romantic interest/attraction to anyone in particular, but he likely wouldn't care for the other's sex/gender should he find romantic interest in someone.

History:

Gonna short hand this.

Dead, murdered, possibly by someone he knew => 10 years of roaming around, memory-less, just chilling => gets Hanna's card => visits Hanna, becomes partner/sidekick/assistant/source of the Name Game => meet Conrad => Case: Achenleck = fuck up => Conrad has been added to your party! => ghost knocks Hanna out, back to Doc Worth's => back to ghost-hunting => punch a half-Selkie in the stomach => find a dead guy => get possessed by dead guy's ghost => hello paper crane => un-possessed => that was weird => Hanna :| those scars. => why hello more vampires => that was weird => oh right we have a clue => go to Doc Worth's => Doc, lay off the runes, hey Lamont what's up => heart-to-heart(?) with Hanna => ticktockticktock => I'm in a band => hey Conrad and Veser => bye Veser => sup dog Toni => creepy tick tock house => oil and blood wut => man this house is cree--HELLO CRAZY LAUGHI-- => HELLO SOMARIUM

Appearance:

The dude on the very far left.

Eyes: Orange and glowing
Hair: Black with white tufts shaped like wings
Height: 6'3" (190.5 cm)
Other: Green skin, has stitches all over him, smells kinda musky
Clothing: Trench coat, gloves, orange button-up that's halfway tucked into his black pants, black skinny tie and spiffy black shoes. Stylin'. Sadly has no fedora on his person at the moment.

Personality:

After Zombie's death and revival as a...well, zombie-thing, he wandered around for ten years, traveling and thinking. However, this became boring and he wasn't exactly sure what to do with the rest of his unlife. He returned to the city in which he died, somehow got a hold of Hanna's business card, the origin of which he claims to have forgotten, and showed up at his doorstep. Having imagined "some long faced chick," he was surprised to meet a scrawny, 5'2.5" ginger boy. Nevertheless, he did what he had arrived to do, and was eagerly given a job as Hanna's assistant/partner. Since this moment in Alejandro's life--er, unlife, he develops a sense of guardianship, in a sense, over Hanna. He trusts him, and even has to remind himself that Hanna was just fine on his own before he came along. It helps that he finds Hanna's game of naming him somewhat endearing, and views him as a best friend/little brother hybrid. His quick thinking and patience with Hanna's excitability are probably two of the key things that help him keep up with him and all the adventures he gets dragged on.

Unfortunately, being a walking corpse (or golem, if you're looking at him from Tibenoch's POV) apparently doesn't allow as wide an array of emotions as being alive. When Gallahad is happy, excited, concerned, or surprised, the only indication is what he says, rather than how he appears. He's silent, patient, and okay with chilling in the background and observing what is happening around him. However, he reacts quickly and without a second thought when it comes to protecting himself or, most important to him, Hanna. An example of this snake-like striking is when they first encounter Veser, as the first reaction to a figure running and screaming through the dark is to punch it square in the stomach. After the gut-punch was delivered and Veser's ass became acquainted with the floor, Imhotep apologized with a rare, sincere expression of concern. Not that he isn't always sincere, he just rarely has distinguishable facial expressions. After this instance, he offers his help to the kid without hesitation, showing his willingness to help others at any time.

A master of being discreet, probably from that decade of roaming, he's spectacularly good at hiding his zombiefied state. He can assess situations in which it's alright to let others know, and times when it's not and come up with a calmly-delivered explanation. His calm demeanor gives off the idea that he's quite capable of tackling things normal people wouldn't. Unable to remember anything about his life before death, Gallahad has lost his desire to recall anything about it, and would rather focus on creating new memories. After being introduced to the unfortunate memory of his death, his interest especially plummeted, and halted his interest completely. He feels somewhat guilty for losing said memories, and thinks that it's "a bit easier to forget than it is to be forgotten." He has a patience with others and the things around him to be rivaled, and is a logical sort of quiet tall guy. He reacts quickly, although he takes time to think about things before speaking up about his thoughts on an issue. From various examples in Q&A's, he appears to be practical, on the chill, relaxed side of life, as well as relatively humble.

Abilites:

‡ Zombeh-eh-eh-eh
Zombie, being a zombie, has re-attachable limbs. Feel like tearing his arm off? Not only won't he feel an immense amount of pain due to his deadened nerves, maybe a sting, his arm can be easily sewn right back on where it was torn off! If anything, he's more shocked by physical blows/injuries than he is by any pain his undead state allows him to feel. He doesn't require sleep--couldn't sleep if he tried--and takes the chance during sleeping hours to explore, read, whatever he feels like doing to preoccupy himself. Also his eyes glow orange. It's cool.

‡ Master of Disguise
With only a fedora, gloves, and trench coat, he manages to fool everyone into thinking he's not a zombie. This is listed as an ability because these three things somehow mask his green, (presumably) leathery skin and glowing orange eyes. Not sure how that works, but it's something he's mastered well. In TDS, he'll be coming in fedora-less, leaving him with only his gloves and trench coat.

‡ Everybody Was Kung-Fu Fightiiiiing
For some reason, Zombie has mad kung-fu skills. It's kind of ridiculous, but hey, guess you learn things after being dead for 10 years, on top of whatever his life may have been like when he was alive. He delivers strong punches, kicks, and doesn't hesitate to bash something in when necessary. He reacts quickly, sometimes without taking the time to assess the situation, but he does it in defense of others.

Other: Nope.

SAMPLES
First Person: Previous RP Post

Third Person:

There wasn't much he could do about the flooding of water within him. Over a decade of not breathing had hindered his memory on how to breathe in the first place, so coughing up the water that sloshed around in the unused cavities of his body was out of the question. He stumbled to his feet, disappointed with how his clothes weighed him down, soaked in sea water and caked with sand. He couldn't remember the last time it pained him to walk, to drag his legs along and will them to continue. He hated water, and it was a good thing he died a long time ago, or else he'd probably be dead by now. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he heard Hanna's voice saying the exact same thing. The thought brought him some calmness.

He bent forward, hands on his knees. A stiff body such as his wasn't exactly made to be thrown around by oceanic currents and the like. Maybe when he had been alive, he'd done this to catch his breath. He quickly abandoned the idea; things were much easier when he wasn't wondering what he may or may have been like. Straightening himself up, he looked down at his hands to take ligament inventory. Two arms, ten fingers; all there. He brought one hand closer to his face and noticed the little smear of oilblood that he'd examined; it must have stained his glove for the time being. He dropped his arm, and began to take in his surroundings as he removed his trench coat.

A beach, he could tell that easily enough. He'd visited his share of them in the past ten years, taking care to go during the winter when no one would expect him to shed his coat and hat. With a grimace, he noticed still corpses and other grotesque presences littering the sandy stretch of land. He was more disturbed that it looked relatively natural; the fact that it was daytime might have had something to do with it, however. It was doubtful to him that such things would be left out in daylight if their only purpose was to be night-only decorations of macabre. He averted his gaze to take in the rest of the beach, almost at a loss for what to do next. His life as of late had required him to observe everything in a moment, for the next he would be led into something new by Hanna. It was strange to have extra time to take it all in.

But the problem remained: Hanna was nowhere in sight. Neither were Conrad and Toni, yet he couldn't shake off his concern for Hanna's wellbeing. In the distance, he spotted a cobblestone-esque path, and he hesitated. If Hanna and the other two were wherever the path took them, then they were safer than being lost at sea. After deliberating for a moment, he sat down on the sand and stared into the horizon. It would be boring, but he would feel better later. He'd wait until sundown for his friends to wash up so he could help them immediately. If they didn't, then...well, he wasn't sure if they were better off at Tibenoch's house or not.

OTHER
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