Name: Henry Grimwald Moore
Gender: Male
Age: Approximately 24
Lineage: Unknown/Irish-American (Psychic: Telepathy which will expand to telekinesis)
Fate: 2
Relationship Status: Single

Occupational Status: Employed as a farmer. He wanders around working, generally with on small family farms that offer him room and board, saving up enough money for transit when he decides to uproot himself again.

Previous Occupations: He tried working as a lifeguard during high school but found it was too much time alone and a bad way to escape his thoughts. He worked for a while in a thrift store during college, which wasn’t much better, but he really needed the money. During a couple summers in college, he worked as a firespotter in a national park, this time trying to avoid people. That was a definite success.

Physical Description: Henry is a pretty normal-looking guy. He’s a little tall, around 178 cm (5’10), but that’s about the only exceptional thing about him. His hair and eyes are both dark brown; a complexion that may have been on the light side of Middle-Eastern or Latino has been darkened by his recent time in the sun. His face and jaw are rather square; his eyes are sunk beneath a strong brow and beside a slightly-larger-than-normal nose. All in all, what he’s been born with manages to be cohesive enough to make him look pretty average. This hasn’t had much effect on his life, though.

He generally keeps himself well-groomed. Normally, he shaves every other day, but that can change depending on his employer. He keeps his nails and body hair trimmed but existent. He usually gets his hair cut every two to three months; every time, it’s the same style: about three centimeters left on the top, two on the sides and back, and a part on his right side. As a result of his recent line of work, he is reasonably muscled, but there is little definition to his physique. 

Psychological Profile: Henry could be doing worse. If he didn’t have all his psychic shit to worry about, he would be reasonably social, perhaps a little on the quiet side — though certainly a good listener and with a dry and sarcastic sense of humor. He’d be reasonably confident with groups large and small, and he’d be on the patient side, but someone who trusts his instincts.

Instead, he has to worry about letting his little psychic abilities come to the fore. There’s some great irony to what he experiences: he can perceive the emotions of those around him, and he finds they’re rather beautiful, to the point that he may be the most avid humanist on the plant; however, the greater the concentration of people around him, the more the perceptions fill him with a kind of deep, perhaps even physical pain and dread. Through very careful meditation, he has learned to control some of it, but he still feels pained by the presence of others. He tries to avoid large groups, but has a knack for forming very close friendships because of his affinity for empathy. A drive never to stay in one place — which has only grown stronger in recent years, as if the threat is growing nearer — forces him to abandon most people he comes to know.

Background: Since his earliest memories, of being found on that doorstep in rural Ireland, unable to speak in any language but able to understand any of them, Henry has never felt safe. For a long time, he thought it was just something everyone dealt with: the fear, the rush of emotions whenever he was in a crowd, the strange feeling of something haunting him — something from [i]before[/i]. As he grew older, he found it was just him, and the drive deep within him to always keep moving — [i]to flee[/i]— grew stronger.

Already having immigrated to America, his family moved several times to accommodate his feelings. It never really worked, but they at least managed to get him to finish school and go off to university. Not that he was bad at it — no matter how much he applied himself (maybe as a distraction from his other issues), he often longed to simply drop out and go far away. He transferred twice, majoring in astrophysics, as if he were trying to get off the planet.

Recent History: That didn’t really matter now, though. After a bit of a breakdown during and after his commencement, he bought a plane ticket and started working on a farm with some homesteaders in the Midwest over that summer. He liked the distance from people and from the roaring in the back of his mind that had grown ever stronger. It came back, though, so he went and found somewhere new to work the next season. And the next one. And the next.

In the two years he has been wandering parts of Europe, the Americas, and a few Pacific islands, he has tried to distance himself more and more, putting oceans and language barriers between him and civilization, but the dread deep in him returns, now largely independent of how populated his surroundings are.

But he still keeps booking those tickets, because even a couple weeks’ respite is what he really wants.