FernRace, Age, Time in the Caravan:Undead, around 120 years old (~21 when he died), 4 months
Appearance:Fern is a tall and gangly guy, with slouched shoulders and a permanent slump to his walk. His skin is a sickly, light green with splotches of blue, and feels ice cold to the touch. It’s also always a little… wet. His auburn hair looks like, if he took care of it better, it would fall in beautiful ringlets to his shoulder – however, being who he is, it’s just a mat of messy curls pulled up into what may in some eyes constitute as a bun. His eyes are a dull brown, peering out from permanently downcast eyelids, and a nasty scar runs across his face from temple to chin in a diagonal. He’s usually dressed in dark, drab clothes a few sizes to big for him. If it’s not the undead thing that stands out, two other things might; the amulet with an eyeball set in the centre that he wears around his neck, or the frilly doll that he’s always carrying around.
History:Fern (born Fernando Aguez in a dark, distant past) drowned over a century ago, and he doesn’t much like to talk about it, okay? Yes, he fell into a river, yes it was tragic and also kind of stupid, but do people keep having to bring it up? Anyway, yeah, so he’s been dead for a bit, and waking up washed on shore with mottled green skin definitely comes in the top ten of worst ways he’s ever been woken up. Point is, he’s not alive but he sure ain’t dead either, and that kind of sucks when it comes to like, society and stuff. Because people are very good at putting things in boxes: either you’re alive, or you’re dead, and you’re sure as hell not a freaky in between, whatever that may be. He wants to ask those people what they think he is then, but generally when he comes near them they start running and screaming and grabbing the pitchforks, so he’s gotten quite used to not asking those kind of questions in small, religious towns. Bigger cities are a bit more openminded, and not being able to die (or live, mind you) comes in quite useful when you’re trying to kill (unalive, that is, for those a little squeamish) some assholes who didn’t pay their bar tabs. No, it ain’t the cleanest work, but it pays.
Personality:I’m sure you’ll have figured out by now that Fern is maybe not the most friendly of guys. Can’t even blame it on dying and being resurrected; he was a bit of a dick before that too, but undeath certainly didn’t make him more cheerful. Regardless, he’s a loyal sort and a hard worker if you put him to work with something that interests him. Most of his grumpy façade is just that: a façade. When it comes to it, he does care for things, it’s just hard to care for people when most of them are ageing and you’re stuck with algae growing on your ribs.
Motivation:So, about that killing people. Yeah, turns out there are authorities looking out for that, and maybe sometimes you leave a bit too much evidence and then it turns out that, hey, is that guy even breathing? Oh shit we got a murdering zombie on our hands.
Yeah, that. The caravan seemed like a good respite for a while; see some new places, maybe find somewhere to work. And it’s a good place to hide when the guards are on your ass. That helps too.
Skills, Strengths and Weaknesses, and Tools:So, first off, unable to die. That’s a thing. Doesn’t mean he’s not able to be damaged, though; if you were to cut him up into multiple pieces and then scattered those pieces across the globe, not much he can do about that. Other than probably complain a lot. With undead comes some benefits, such as not having to eat, drink or breathe, and not ageing, however, it has its downsides as well. While it doesn’t hurt him, sunlight makes him weaker and can dry him out. He’s fast in water and rain makes him stronger, but just about anyone can outrun him on land. He’s pretty strong, physically, at least stronger than his lanky figure suggests, and undeath gave him a nasty set of sharp teeth and nails.
What They Most Want: If you’d ask him, he’d say big money, but really, he wouldn’t mind being put to rest. Undeath becomes tiring and boring after a while.
If They Had a DnD Alignment, It Would Be: Chaotic neutral
Three Likes: Salmon, preferably raw; stacks of that good cash money; rainy evenings.
Three Dislikes: The Sun™; nuts (he’s not allergic, he just doesn’t enjoy the texture); authorities
Do They Follow Their Heart or Their Mind?: Heart, for sure. Why think when you can just go and worry about the repercussions later.
Worst Fear: Being left out in the desert.
Favorite Color: Gold. It’s ironic because it’s also the colour of the sun.
Most Like The Animal: Is it ironic to say a very grumpy fish. Realistically though, he’s more like a crab, always up for violence and perfectly willing to drag other people down in the bucket with him.
Favorite Time of Day: Sunset. Begone, sun.
How They Dress: Shoddily. He likes shiny things, but wearing expensive clothing is kind of useless if you’re always dumping yourself in fresh sewage.
Favorite Season: Autumn. Lots of rain, but not yet cold enough to freeze water.
What Gods/Spirits/Whatevers They Worship (If Any): None, neither before or after his death. He’s not a spiritual sort.
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