Description

Personality

Al is very somber and quiet. Although the scars on his arms are unmissable, he holds no recollection of how he attained them. They are nothing but strangers to him, reminders of nothing. He's suffered from amnesia since he was 8. His memories beginning with the front door of an orphanage towering ominously before him.

He is disconnected from most of the world, cold and pessimistic he seems to focus solely on the darkness of the world and the flaws of human nature. He fears the pain of love, of betrayal, and failure, more than anything. Although his personality and lifestyle betray him more than any particular person. He does not trust easily, nor does he make many friends. His life is a solitary one, and it has filled with an impressive, and colossal loneliness. One that is buried deep beneath a facade of strength and complacency.

Alistair is in a sense unremarkable. A human, with no unusual talents, no form of hidden strength. Simply human. Held down by the same limitations that hold a grip over every other person like him. As a writer he spends a lot of time creating stories about fantastic adventures, creating worlds much more interesting than our own. It causes him to become depressed he he realizes that the characters in his stories, have absolutely nothing in common with his life. At one point in his life he tried to be an artist, but for some reason gave up on his dream.

Alistair in another sense is also quite unusual. You see, not once in his entire life has he ever been hurt. The strange scars on his skin the only evidence that he has actually suffered any form of physical injury. In over thirteen years, he has not broken, nor bled, nor bruised, nor scraped a single part of his being. Strangely enough he also never falls ill. A fact the he often reflects upon, and simply believes is the responsibility of a particularly strong immune system.

Though he may not notice it, a strange air of luck surrounds him at all times. He is a lonely yet fortunate man who has not once taken advantage of his peculiar luck. (Grey)

Equipment

He carries little with him.

A simple silver watch on his left wrist. His wallet which is tucked into the rear pocket of his pants, his phone in his front left. A formal and expensive looking messenger bag, in which he carries his laptop, pens, a small notepad, loose change, a package of expensive, high class cigarettes (which he rarely smokes), mints, and a near empty sketchbook. In the sketch book tucked in to a nondescript page somewhere in the middle, is a small strip of paper from a fortune cookie with the words, "It is all yours" written on it.

History

Alistair lived in the orphanage since he was 8. In those early years he was no different from other children, he smiled, laughed, and even played. But as the year's went by, the other children were adopted and he was not. He became scared and lonely, and just as he began to feel like he would never be adopted, came a wealthy couple who took him into their home, he was eleven at the time. They raised him for seven comfortable years. He did well at home, he never fought with his parents. He did well at school, his grades exemplary. He did well in everything. It was all too easy for him. Al's parents put him into a private school for gifted youths. The kids there were all something close to genius. His teachers liked him because he had good grades, good attendance and payed some attention in class. The other students liked him because he was handsome, easy going, and because "there was just, something about him". He was popular but not outgoing. People knew "of" him, but few actually did.

In his final year at the school his parents died. Leaving their entire fortune to him.

He attended university for a time, but dropped out. He took up writing as a hobby and then it became his profession. He wrote books about a young man and his sister fighting a war between the realm of reality and the one of dreams. He published the books under a fake name, so that his would stay sacred and private. Two books had already been written. They made the best seller's list and had become very popular. He was working on the third book when he came across writer's block.

He decided it would be nice to move somewhere quieter than the city where he lived. Someplace he could think. Moudrost Village, was just the place.
(Any form of sandwich)