Post by Linyü on Mar 7, 2020 22:03:34 GMT -6
Overview and Physical Description
Name: Ji Linyü (姞霖予) Species: Human Gender: Male Age: 23 Native Language: Xin  Eyes: Dark brown, almond shaped Hair: Black Skin: Olive Height: 5’7” Weight: 119 lbs (art by SinridX) |  |
| Build: Skinny, verging on underfed, though his natural tendency is to stay lean. Other unusual features: Sometimes his eyes look a little... odd. It's not always the same quirk. Some days one or the other will seem slit-pupiled, or take on a strange greenish cast. He's not sure how it happened. Maybe a work accident? Clothes: T-shirts, button-downs, sweaters, jeans. Comfortable wear, though not necessarily well fitting. Everything is well worn, and many pieces are a little too big, as though he’s lost weight since they were bought. Many of the sweaters in particular look as though they originally belonged to someone larger, though it might also be a style choice. He also seems to be experimenting a little with more eye-catching pieces; on occasion he can be seen wrapped in a gauzy iridescent shawl, or something with sequins, but generally his sense of style is still pretty tame. |
| Linyü is an unassuming young man. He’s a little on the short side, a little on the skinny side--- an underfed student, always dressed in oversized sweaters and beat-up jeans. He’s kind of cute, if that’s your thing, in a slightly awkward boy next door sort of way. He has a nice smile, a little lopsided, with dimples that he might get embarrassed about if you point them out. Generally he looks young for his age, though occasionally when he’s serious or pensive, there’s a certain cast to the shadows on his face that make him seem briefly older. But it’s probably just a trick of the light. |
 Xin features are rare here, but foreigners are common. No one seems to notice. He’s lucky. His condition is a mess. It’s going to take a long time to recover. He’s lucky none of the injuries were permanent, though right now he’s not sure he’s ever going to be able to move like he used to. He needs to start rebuilding his strength as quickly as possible. He can keep most of the changes hidden so long as he's careful, but the eyes are troublesome. |  Could be taller, could be cuter, but the looks aren’t the worst by a long shot. It’s a relief, actually, that he’s not super rippling-muscles macho; that would have been a terrible adjustment to make. He’s got a good smile, which is all he really needs. It sure would be nice to wear something a little less drab, though the eyes thing is almost cool enough to make up for it. |
Mental and Social Description
| Linyü's personality is, for the most part, just as unassuming as his looks. He’s got a smile for almost everyone, and he works hard at his part time jobs, even though he seems to be juggling half a dozen at any one time. People who talk to him on a regular basis do seem to agree that he can be a little inconsistent in his moods. There will be days where he’s chatty and open, quick to laugh and quicker still to find new things of interest, sometimes even acting a little bratty. Other days, he’s more awkward, full of politeness and earnest effort. Occasionally, he can be quieter, more subdued. On those days, he’s a good listener, but doesn’t talk much, least of all about himself. But then, he’s young, and a little tiredness can be excused, especially when someone is working as much as he does. Or maybe it’s a hangover from a party last night? |
 San is what you get when you take a boy and you teach him to fight, to kill, and then make him do it. Over and over again, until he’s a man who doesn’t know anything else. Life is a series of quick calculations. How many steps between him and his target, how many empty rooms in the building, how many drinks before they’re too drunk to resist. How many seconds to hold a man’s throat before they go slack. How many minutes it will take that man’s friends to notice. It’s habit. It’s become so familiar that he doesn’t know how to stop. The smile he gives his landlord is calculated too. How many times does he need to trip over himself before his boss starts laughing over his clumsiness? How many minutes of small talk should he make with his neighbor to seem friendly, but not too familiar? How much money should he carry on him, how many hours can he get away with training his body back up, how much money will he be short next time he wakes? He can never answer that last one. It’s infuriating. But it gives him something to focus on, something more immediate than the fact that he doesn’t know what he’s doing anymore. He didn’t like working for the Watchful Ones, but the dreams he had of freedom had always stayed exactly that: vague and distant, a safe sanctuary from what he was living. Never tangible, never real. And he doesn’t know whether he can be the kind of person who lives that life anymore. In his quiet moments, with the pressure of public pretense peeled away, it’s too easy to feel haunted by the ghosts of where he’s been. His sister. His unit. Everyone he’s killed. He’s holding it together for Rei, and a little for the cat too, though now maybe it’s more accurate to say that they’re the ones holding him together. He just doesn’t know how long he can go on with this, especially with someone else living inside his head. |  Seveth had never had a particular talent for planning. Things happened; he made the best of it when he had to, and did as he pleased when he could. Ichaival didn’t like it, but life was too short to spend it worrying over all the little details. Of course, maybe he had underestimated just how short it was going to be. But it had all worked out in the end, hadn’t it? ... Hadn’t it? Okay, so his current situation isn't ideal, but that's nothing he can't fix with a little work and a can-do attitude. He’s honestly surprised that this even worked, and with his new lease on life, he’s determined to make the most of it. Granted, he doesn’t have a whole lot to work with--- wouldn’t it have been nice if he’d woken up in the body of a billionaire?--- but that doesn’t mean he can’t have fun. It’s just a shame that he can’t get his new… What do you call this? A roommate? A corpsemate? Well, anyway, it’s a real shame he can’t get that other guy to see it his way. He doesn’t know the man; the very nature of their relationship means they’re never going to be able to have a proper, face to face conversation. But from what Seveth hears, it’s all doom and gloom over there, even if he’s doing a passable job at putting on a face for the neighbors. Well, give it time. Seveth is in here for the long haul. He’s not unreasonable, and he's prepared to make some compromises! But sometimes a guy’s just gotta live, you know? |
Personal Effects
