Player Name: Wolfy E-mail: wolfyttwisted@gmail.com Preferred Contact: Plurk- wolfyttwisted Discord- Quesadilla Wizard #7332 Timezone:central (rpobably???) Current Characters in Victory Road: none
Character Name: Henry Townshend Series: Silent Hill 4: The Room Timeline: The end of the game, having earned the Escape ending Canon Resource Links:http://silenthill.wikia.com/wiki/Henry_Townshend
Personality:
If you were to walk past Henry, it would probably take you one or two more passes to actually notice him. He’s a dusty wallflower who’d sooner be part of the furniture than participate in conversation. Mr. Townshend comes in two volumes: a near undecipherable murmur and a startling howl. The poor boy’s not 100% sure how to interact verbally and has problems judging where his inside and outside voice would best fit. His conversations rarely have ‘uhms’ or ‘ah’s’ in them. He’s to-the-point and would probably come off as rude if he didn’t mumble and break eye-contact so much. He prefers to simply stand back and take everything in and let others state what’s going on. Henry quietly expresses himself through his photographs and scrapbook projects. He journals as well.
He is an artist—a photographer. That photo of some random bicycle leaning against a wall? You probably wouldn’t understand it, but he found something pretty special about it and wanted to remember it. There’s a lot going on in that shaggy head of his, but you probably wouldn’t know it. With his eye for detail, he appears to space out, his mouth forming a grim, emotionless line. On the rare occasion he does decide to participate in conversation, his words often become non sequiturs. They made perfect sense a minute ago, he swears! Urf. Never mind. He’ll just be over here…way over here. He’s not slow, just distracted.
Henry is a sensitive soul. He cares about the well-being of others and is quite protective of them. He doesn’t seem to have any problems shoving himself between a lady he’s only until just recently seen in passing and a strange black globby head protruding from his ceiling. This also extends to random prostitutes in subways. He feels great sorrow when witnessing death, but does not recoil from it. It’s not hard to get along with Henry. Even if he believes something totally different than you, he’ll smile his awkward, vacant smile and go along with it. Sadly, his quite nature tends to paint him as that creeper guy over there going 8I.
Over the course of the game, he is encouraged to become more outgoing. It’s amazing what a shut-in will do once he’s no longer given the option of leaving his own apartment via freaky mysteriously appearing chains. He even makes a friend along the way—the woman next door who ends up being pulled into the same monster and murder filled misadventure.! Everybody go awwwwwww. When he’s not sight seeing and taking pictures, Henry likes reading old books he’s collected over the years, watching television, and having a good smoke. He likes those artsy films where nobody speaks any English or dubbed films. He doesn’t have a problem with the voices and mouths not matching up because what’s most important is the story. What he smokes is anybody’s guess. Jesus, that stare of his…
He dresses simply and comfortably. The man owns a washing machine and uses it, but probably not as much as he should. He seems to do a pretty good job of keeping himself clean at least. Henry’s a little too lazy to shave though with his perpetual 5-o-clock shadow and all.
Pokémon Information Affiliation: Trainer Starter: Honedge Password: Atomic Fireball
This was most definitely not room 302. There were too many people here. There were too many creatures here. There were too many colors here. As he sat on the edge of the Miltank Smoothie Shop’s porch with his knees around his ears, he wondered if this was what Dorothy felt like when the door to that weird Technicolor world swung open. Only instead of escaping a tornado, it had been a grey and brown hellworld full of monkey men, mosquito dogs, and that horrible laughing man.
He almost wished it had been a tornado.
Henry cupped his hand around his mouth and coughed. This was all so crazy. It was almost silly! As bad as he wanted to stretch his legs out and laugh at the absurdity of it all, he couldn’t do anything but huddle there and suck on his Koffing brand cigarette and try not to look at that weird clam thing he’d been given. It was supposed to be his friend. Henry already had a friend--he hoped. He hoped wherever Eileen was, it was somewhere delightfully weird and colorful and not floating belly-up in that flooded prison or strapped to a cross. He wasn’t sure if he was ready for another friend just yet.
No matter how long he watched the passing people or the clouds overhead, he could feel the Shellder’s beady little eyes boring into him. The thing didn’t even have any legs. He had to carry it wherever he went and hadn’t exactly figured out how Poke’balls worked. An hour oozed by. Henry couln’t take it anymore. Slowly he turned his head and squinted over his shoulder at the little bivalve pokemon.
SNAP! The creature’s shell clapped shut.
Henry sighed out a tiny almost purplish cloud and ran his fingers through his hair. What was he supposed to do? No matter how many times he said, “Eileen?” into his ‘Gear, she never said anything back. He didn’t see her among the throng of equally confused people. He’d been prompted on something about badges and given a backpack.
He snuffed his cigarette out though it was only half-spent and put it back into the pack. CONSERVE, CONSERVE, CONSERVE howled his survival instincts. As he stuffed the carton back into his new bag, he caught the Shellder peeking at him again. As soon as they made eye-contact, the thing’s shell snapped shut.
“Now that’s not fair.” he murmured. A tiny frown tugged at the corners of his mouth as he shouldered the backpack and reached down to pick up his new ball and chain. “You still have your own room.”
no subject
Player
Name: Wolfy
E-mail: wolfyttwisted@gmail.com
Preferred Contact:
Plurk- wolfyttwisted
Discord- Quesadilla Wizard #7332
Timezone:central (rpobably???)
Current Characters in Victory Road: none
Character
Name: Henry Townshend
Series: Silent Hill 4: The Room
Timeline: The end of the game, having earned the Escape ending
Canon Resource Links: http://silenthill.wikia.com/wiki/Henry_Townshend
Personality:
If you were to walk past Henry, it would probably take you one or two more passes to actually notice him. He’s a dusty wallflower who’d sooner be part of the furniture than participate in conversation. Mr. Townshend comes in two volumes: a near undecipherable murmur and a startling howl. The poor boy’s not 100% sure how to interact verbally and has problems judging where his inside and outside voice would best fit. His conversations rarely have ‘uhms’ or ‘ah’s’ in them. He’s to-the-point and would probably come off as rude if he didn’t mumble and break eye-contact so much. He prefers to simply stand back and take everything in and let others state what’s going on. Henry quietly expresses himself through his photographs and scrapbook projects. He journals as well.
He is an artist—a photographer. That photo of some random bicycle leaning against a wall? You probably wouldn’t understand it, but he found something pretty special about it and wanted to remember it. There’s a lot going on in that shaggy head of his, but you probably wouldn’t know it. With his eye for detail, he appears to space out, his mouth forming a grim, emotionless line. On the rare occasion he does decide to participate in conversation, his words often become non sequiturs. They made perfect sense a minute ago, he swears! Urf. Never mind. He’ll just be over here…way over here. He’s not slow, just distracted.
Henry is a sensitive soul. He cares about the well-being of others and is quite protective of them. He doesn’t seem to have any problems shoving himself between a lady he’s only until just recently seen in passing and a strange black globby head protruding from his ceiling. This also extends to random prostitutes in subways. He feels great sorrow when witnessing death, but does not recoil from it. It’s not hard to get along with Henry. Even if he believes something totally different than you, he’ll smile his awkward, vacant smile and go along with it. Sadly, his quite nature tends to paint him as that creeper guy over there going 8I.
Over the course of the game, he is encouraged to become more outgoing. It’s amazing what a shut-in will do once he’s no longer given the option of leaving his own apartment via freaky mysteriously appearing chains. He even makes a friend along the way—the woman next door who ends up being pulled into the same monster and murder filled misadventure.! Everybody go awwwwwww. When he’s not sight seeing and taking pictures, Henry likes reading old books he’s collected over the years, watching television, and having a good smoke. He likes those artsy films where nobody speaks any English or dubbed films. He doesn’t have a problem with the voices and mouths not matching up because what’s most important is the story. What he smokes is anybody’s guess. Jesus, that stare of his…
He dresses simply and comfortably. The man owns a washing machine and uses it, but probably not as much as he should. He seems to do a pretty good job of keeping himself clean at least. Henry’s a little too lazy to shave though with his perpetual 5-o-clock shadow and all.
Pokémon Information
Affiliation: Trainer
Starter: Honedge
Password: Atomic Fireball
Samples
RP Sample:
https://ohmyarceus.dreamwidth.org/11481.html?thread=2183897#cmt2183897
Victory Road Sample:
This was most definitely not room 302. There were too many people here. There were too many creatures here. There were too many colors here. As he sat on the edge of the Miltank Smoothie Shop’s porch with his knees around his ears, he wondered if this was what Dorothy felt like when the door to that weird Technicolor world swung open. Only instead of escaping a tornado, it had been a grey and brown hellworld full of monkey men, mosquito dogs, and that horrible laughing man.
He almost wished it had been a tornado.
Henry cupped his hand around his mouth and coughed. This was all so crazy. It was almost silly! As bad as he wanted to stretch his legs out and laugh at the absurdity of it all, he couldn’t do anything but huddle there and suck on his Koffing brand cigarette and try not to look at that weird clam thing he’d been given. It was supposed to be his friend. Henry already had a friend--he hoped. He hoped wherever Eileen was, it was somewhere delightfully weird and colorful and not floating belly-up in that flooded prison or strapped to a cross. He wasn’t sure if he was ready for another friend just yet.
No matter how long he watched the passing people or the clouds overhead, he could feel the Shellder’s beady little eyes boring into him. The thing didn’t even have any legs. He had to carry it wherever he went and hadn’t exactly figured out how Poke’balls worked. An hour oozed by. Henry couln’t take it anymore. Slowly he turned his head and squinted over his shoulder at the little bivalve pokemon.
SNAP! The creature’s shell clapped shut.
Henry sighed out a tiny almost purplish cloud and ran his fingers through his hair. What was he supposed to do? No matter how many times he said, “Eileen?” into his ‘Gear, she never said anything back. He didn’t see her among the throng of equally confused people. He’d been prompted on something about badges and given a backpack.
He snuffed his cigarette out though it was only half-spent and put it back into the pack. CONSERVE, CONSERVE, CONSERVE howled his survival instincts. As he stuffed the carton back into his new bag, he caught the Shellder peeking at him again. As soon as they made eye-contact, the thing’s shell snapped shut.
“Now that’s not fair.” he murmured. A tiny frown tugged at the corners of his mouth as he shouldered the backpack and reached down to pick up his new ball and chain. “You still have your own room.”