[hider=bitterbatterbotherbrother][center][img]https://i.imgur.com/aBDOya0.png[/img]

[color=6ecff6]𝟝’𝟛[/color] | [color=6ecff6]𝟙𝟙𝟝 𝕝𝕓𝕤[/color] | [color=6ecff6]𝟚𝟙 𝕪/𝕠[/color]
[h1][color=6ecff6]N[/color]ano [color=6ecff6]L[/color]emmings[/h1][h3]𝕀 𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕥 𝕥𝕠 𝕓𝕖 [i]𝔹𝕖𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕣[/i].[/h3]
[sub][i]Hair like ash, eyes like coal.
Sing a song, steal a soul.
Skin like ice, smiles like star.
Strike a note, call a bar.
Father Mother, Farther, Further.
Meteor Showers, Murmurs Murder.[/i][/sub][/center]

[color=6ecff6][b]Personality[/b][/color]
Nano’s a nice kid, a ball of tranquil optimism despite the strange world he’s found himself in. An avid reader, he always carries a thick, leather-bound book with himself, making it a habit of his to read it early every morning and every night. He’s a bit protective of his possessions, really, and though he’s always willing to help people, he’s rarely willing to ‘give to’ people. A person who enjoys relying on himself the most, Nano prefers walking to riding, citing how they effectively have unlimited time anyways, and operates on his own pace, with deadlines and meeting times acting as a suggestion rather than a rule. A freespirited young lad, Nano’s singular objective is to have fun in this odd world, even if his definition of fun may be at odds with his cherubic appearance.

Sometimes, it feels like he’s trying a bit too hard though. But at what, no one knows.

[b][color=6ecff6]Background[/color][/b]
An ordinary child, living in an industrial world devoid of silence. The gears were always turning, the stacks were already billowing, and the night was always bright with incandescent stars. He found solace in his father’s study, even when the best books were too precious to be unlocked from their glass cabinets, and when he grew older, found joy in the workshop in the basement, where boxes sang songs and cogs danced with precise elegance. Those were pleasant, fleeting times, made all the more beautiful as his small world expanded to encompass those around him as well.

The envy of every eye, the treasure of his mind. His dearest possession, now that the genuine article is forever out of reach, now that every day seeps away more of those sepia vignettes.

He never wanted to find himself in a new world, but then again, he never ever got anything he wanted to begin with.

[b][color=6ecff6]Talents[/color][/b]
Bushwhacking
Fixing Clocks and Music Boxes
Eating Weird Food
Improvising Writing Tools

[color=6ecff6][b]Equipment[/b][/color]
Sanitary Bootknife
Old Leather Chestguard
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