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Hatch Williams

"pretty like a car crash."

0 · 101 views · located in Scarmouth

a character in “Blinding Lights”, as played by partially-stars

Description

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experiment on me - halsey. simmer - hayley williams. use me - pvris. take yourself home- troye sivan. vicious - halestorm. suckapunch - you me at six

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NAMEXX Hannah Natasha WilliamsGENDERXX Female
NICKNAMESXXHatchNATIONALITYXX White American
AGEXX 24HEX XX #400026
SEXUALITYXXHomosexual

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M I R R O RXXM I R R O R

H E I G H TXANDXB U I L D: 5'9", lean

Hatch strikes an intimidating figure. She's tall and thin, but couldn't be mistaken for weak. Working as a mechanic, she's used to hauling around heavy equipment and parts, and so there's a surprising amount of muscle on her frame. It's not uncommon to see her tanned but it's usually as a result of spending hours working outdoors. Her skin is usually marred with small scratches or burns, ones she hardly even notices any more, and as a result she also has plenty of scars, none of them particularly noteworthy. Her hair seems to be constantly changing colours, from a dark auburn to blonde. Naturally, her hair is a dark brown, almost black in some lights. Any time it gets any longer than chin length, she cuts it, the length changing depending on her mood.

Hatch leans into her intimidating appearance and personality. She lines her distinctive grey-green eyes with eyeliner and smokey eye-shadow, she keeps her hair purposely messy. She tends to dress in all black but isn't afraid to show plenty of skin either, depending on who she wants to intimidate or how. She pretty much lives in combat boots and some kind of leather. She has three lobe piercings in both ears, two helix piercings in her right ear, and an industrial piercing in her left. She's got plenty of tattoos: a crescent moon on her right shoulder, two koi on her ribs, phases of the moon along her spine, leaves wrapping around her left arm, and a geometric design on her right arm. Despite her job, she's pretty much always immaculately clean.

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W H OXXA MXXI?
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P E R S O N A L I T Y:
Hatch has somewhat of a reputation, and it's not hard to see why. When dealing with customers, she isn't rude as such, but she also doesn't waste her words or waste time with niceties. As far as she's concerned, small talk is a waste of time. She won't beat around the bush, either, and if anyone tries starting trouble with her, she's liable to shut them down is as few words as possible. But she's a great mechanic and her prices are reasonable, so her customers keep coming back. She has her regulars, but she treats them exactly the same as every other customer.

To many people's surprise, she's the same when it comes to her personal life. A little more of her sarcasm and snark shines through, but she maintains a distance with more or less everyone, to the point that hardly anyone can say they really know her. And what they do know isn't exactly the bubbliest, sunshine personality. Hatch couldn't ever really be called cruel or mean, but she doesn't sugar coat her words or beat around the bush. She's a big believer in brutal honesty and tough love. She doesn't believe in wasting anyone's time, especially her own. Hatch values herself above all. It's not that she's selfish or vain; it's that her entire life, she's had to look after herself. Nobody else was around to take care of her or keep an eye out for her, so Hatch believes the only person she can truly rely on is herself.

Hatch is cool and calculating. When it came to the war, she refrained from rushing to take a side and instead abstained from taking a side at all. She weighed up the pros and cons and decided that loyalty was not the right decision in this case. Several of her relationships have collapsed because she was so cold and calculating, never letting emotion rule her, even when it should have done. Truth be told, Hatch is completely fine with that. She longs for human contact and the familiarity of a relationship, but hates feeling so exposed and knowing that someone has the power to destroy her. She's never had anyone truly care for her, and it's become something she almost fears. Love is weakness, as far as she's concerned, and she doesn't like showing weakness.

Q U I R K SXA N DXO D D I T I E S:
Her nails are always painted and always chipped, but she doesn't seem to notice or care about the chips. She tends to run her hands through her hair when she's thinking or frustrated, so her hair is usually tousled and messy. She tends to arrange things in a logical order and gets annoyed when people mess with that order.

F E A R S:
Hatch fears being hurt as a result of letting her guard down, related to her fear of abandonment.

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T H EXXP A S T

Hatch could have known a very different life, once upon a time. She was born into a loving family who had hope for their daughter. And then something went wrong. It wasn't like her mother ever told her what went wrong, so Hatch doesn't know why or where it all fell apart. All she knows is that at some points, her parents fell out of love and into hate, and when she was six, her dad walked out on them. Her mother became an alcoholic, which lead to her losing her good reputable job. In order to keep feeding her expensive alcohol and cigarette habit, she became an "escort".

Hatch was deeply intelligent and her teachers knew that, but her lack of stability and support at home meant that she tended to act out and rebel and cause trouble. She wanted somebody to notice that things weren't fine; but education was desperately underfunded and even if somebody had noticed, they probably wouldn't have been able to do much. Hatch started hanging around on the streets instead of going home, and eventually, instead of going to school. She met an older kid who simply called himself "Rocket" and who gave her the nickname "Hatch." Rocket was a mechanic and could build or repair just about anything. She spent hours hanging around his workshop and learning everything. They started working together. But with time, his eyes and hands started lingering on Hatch. She told him multiple times to back off, and each time he'd laugh and back off. But one day, he wasn't quite so easily put off, and she had to make her feelings clear by knocking him out with a wrench after he had her pinned against a wall.

Hatch officially dropped out of school at sixteen. She has no idea where she would have ended up if she hadn't seen the flyer for the mechanic apprenticeship. Wary after her experience with Rocket, she kept something within arm's reach at all times, but her trainer was a fifty year old woman who was more interested in getting Hatch to do the dirty work than anything else. She qualified and started doing odd jobs for people. It took a while for her to build up a reputation and then to get a significant enough reputation that her income was constant enough for her to move into a tiny house with a garage of its own, but she got there.

When the revolution came, Hatch took her time and weighed up her options. Her personal views allied with the rebels, but the government had more money and if they won, a government contract would offer her security. But she also knew that siding entirely with the government could put her in danger if they lost. And so she worked for both sides. She knew there was a risk that neither side would trust her, and wasn't surprised when that was what happened. But she hadn't betrayed either side as such, and so she was let be, but she was and still is considered a potential threat to the new state who shouldn't be trusted with any potentially sensitive information. Which is just fine with her.

So begins...

Hatch Williams's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Noah Lawson Character Portrait: Hatch Williams Character Portrait: Scott Feltikk Character Portrait: Ryan Joshi Character Portrait: Camilla Rhodes Character Portrait: Magnolia Wrenley Character Portrait: Danika Orlov Character Portrait: Miles Caal Character Portrait: Ashleigh Barnes Character Portrait: Damien Moore Character Portrait: Blake Langston
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

4.00 INK

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noah lawson
the medic - #879788 - outfit

i hear the voices when I'm dreaming
i can hear them say
carry on my wayward son
there'll be peace when you are done

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The last thing Noah wanted to do after yet another long shift was go to some awards ceremony for “significant figures in the revolution.” He’d seen enough of the revolution in person and he didn’t particularly want to be reminded of it. But Gabriel had said that they’d invited representatives from the Emergency Department after their role in things, and so Noah had agreed to go. Apparently there was going to be free alcohol and free canapes, which was at least something.

It had been six months since the revolution ended, and things were being rebuilt. They had a new government that was already implementing sweeping changes. It wasn’t official yet, but word around the hospital was that in the next few weeks, the healthcare system was going to move over to publicly funded. Public housing had already been implemented and the number of homeless people on the streets was dropping rapidly by the day. The damage caused in the rioting and fighting was long gone, just a memory.

But it was a memory that was sticking in Noah’s head. The nightmares weren’t as intense as they had been in the initial aftermath, but they were still very much there. The scar on his stomach was healed, but there were mornings he awoke and for a few seconds, the pain was still there. When he walked down the street, he was waiting for an ambush, for an explosion, for anything. The entire group of emergency med residents had stopped going to bars after work because every time a glass shattered, they all flinched and almost launched back into action.

Thankfully, the awards ceremony didn’t seem to dwell on the actual fighting too much. It seemed to be more government focused, awarding and recognising those who had protected their communities throughout the fighting. Someone who had helped smuggle people out of the fighting, someone who had created safe spaces for their community... They were in what appeared to be the last few awards when they began describing a scenario that was uncomfortably familiar.

“The next award we’d like to present is to someone who was selfless and brave on the front lines. We are deeply grateful to all of the staff of Scarmouth’s Emergency Departments who put themselves in harm’s way to save lives and minimise loss of life. But this man drew attention for his actions after he was photographed treating the wounded, even as a government soldier had a gun pointed at his head. Stories from those who served on the front lines tell us this was not the first or only such of these incidents, and that this doctor fearlessly and selflessly treated the wounded indiscriminately. Tonight, we would like to recognise Dr. Noah Lawson of SUH for his bravery and thank him for his service with the Medic’s Hero award.”

Noah glanced over at Gabriel, and the man’s small smile gave away where all this had come from. All around him, people were applauding, some even getting to their feet. Noah just wanted to climb under the table and wait until the moment passed, but he couldn’t. He managed a smile as he stood up and made his way up to the stage, taking the statuette and shaking the presenter’s hand. And then one of them smiled and said, “Would you like to say a few words, Doctor?”

Noah could feel the blood drain from his face. He instinctively looked back towards Gabriel, whose smile had slipped slightly but who nodded, somewhat encouragingly. Noah swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry as he felt what had to be hundreds of eyes on him. He wanted to shake his head and run back to his seat or possibly just straight out of the room, but everyone was watching, waiting, waiting to see if he lived up to what they expected. He knew he wouldn’t, but he cleared his throat.

“Thank you all for this aw- w- w- for this recognition.” He started. He tried remembering every single bit of advice he’d been given on how to minimise it, but his head was blank. And anyway, the rising discomfort and anxiety in his chest as he saw people glance at each other at his stammering was going to completely counteract anything he tried. He kept it as brief, knowing it was probably too short, but he couldn’t get off the stage quickly enough. And then they moved on to some other award, and eyes were finally off him.

“Noah, I’m so sorry, I didn’t realise there would be a speech-” Gabriel said as Noah made it back to the table.
“It’s f-fine,” Noah said, sitting back down. The statuette was clutched so tightly in his hand it was starting to dig in, and he released it, stretching his hand a few times. He could feel Gabriel watching him for a few seconds, but his attention eventually turned back to the stage. As they announced the final few awards, Noah was restless, unable to concentrate or focus on anything around them. As the awards wrapped up, the hosts invited everyone to mingle and have a few drinks and canapes in the adjoining bar. As everyone moved, rushing to the bar at the promise of free food and alcohol, Noah slipped away, saying something about the bathroom to Gabriel. The bathroom was quiet and calm, exactly what Noah wanted and needed. He wet his hands and ran them down his face. For the half a moment his eyes were closed, he saw the barrel of the gun pointed at his face, saw his hands coated in blood- was it his own or someone else’s? He shook himself out of it, almost physically. He dug in his pockets, fishing out the pills he knew he had. There was one almost heart-stopping moment where he couldn’t feel them- and then his hand closed around the bottle. He tipped two out and swallowed them dry, taking a deep breath. And then he stashed them back in his pocket and headed back out towards the bar.


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hatch williams
the mechanic- #400026 - outfit

i wasn't born yesterday
a bloodsport but I'm a saint
it's time to consider
there are no winners

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Hatch hadn’t specifically received an invite to the awards ceremony, but an open invitation had been publicly issued for people to celebrate those who had been nominated and recognised. And the promise of free booze had been enough to lure Hatch into attending. And besides, she was curious to see the types of people who were getting recognised.

Choosing an outfit had taken her a while. She didn’t tend to get dressed up all that much and finding something she could actually stand wearing for a while was difficult. She’d contemplated a dress for a while, but nothing seemed right. And then she found the suit and everything fell into place. Roger looked confused for just a second as she stepped out of her room in heels and makeup. And then he jumped off the couch and ran towards the door.

“Not this evening, buddy.” He whined a little. “Trust me, buddy, I’d love to bring you, but don’t want to draw attention to myself. Not this evening. You look after the house for me, okay?”

By the time Hatch reached the hotel, she was fashionably late. She thought that she might have been out of luck with regards to getting a seat, but apparently the organisers had anticipated the demand as she was shown to a seat at the very back of the room. Her view of the stage was somewhat obscured, but that didn’t overly trouble her. She sat, her legs crossed, and watched the awards with some level of scepticism and interest.

They had an interesting range of awards for sure, and one thing that she noted was that the range of people that were being recognised was significantly broader than the old government would have recognised. There were people of all ages, all areas of the revolution, from all areas of the city. The focus seemed to be on bravery and loyalty, and things took a turn into the overly patriotic for Hatch. The speeches were at least kept brief and non-preachy. There were a few figures that she had heard mention of somewhere along the way, but none of them seemed to match what she imagined. One thing that struck her was the fact that none of them stood out. She'd walk past half of them in the street.

Eventually, the awards wrapped up, and Hatch followed the surge of people towards the bar. Her first priority was to get her hands on a glass of champagne, and then she turned to scan the room, seeing if there was anyone of interest to talk to. She new there had to be plenty, but scanning the room, nobody particularly stood out to her. She took a long sip of her champagne and stayed watching the room.