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( cr chart )
 | Burning everything I know Desperate for a change Crashing down the ancient roads Past our yesterday Maybe there is hunger in my blood Screaming out loud for what I want See me running full speed at it Shattering, collide Call it post-traumatic Now it's do or die Feeding frenzy is in my brain I'm hopeful every day I gotta get it while we are still young enough to break We're finally not afraid Maybe there is hunger in my blood Screaming out loud for what I want See me running full speed at it Shattering, collide Call me post-traumatic Now it's do or die Coming after tiny fractures Coming after tiny fractures See me running full speed at it Coming after tiny fractures Call me post-traumatic What comes after Tiny fractures |
| ◆ THE DRIFTER ◆ |
| A Searcher, aspiring to find a cure. |
| Silent, adaptable, and deathly ill, the Drifter has braved countless dangers without faltering, or even speaking aloud. Their hunt for a cure to their sickness has brought them through innumerable obstacles of every sort, up to and including their own death at the hands of their illness and at those creatures that stand in their way. Aided by the silent jackal god, they would learn to get up from even death each time, persevering past the point where anyone else would have given up. They have been battered and broken more times than they can count, hounded at all times by the spectral appearances of the Immortal Cell, Judgment, that festers in their organs and eats away at their health from the inside out. They still dream of its toxic influence, and they continue to cough up their own blood when their trials grow particularly difficult. Despite that, they do not give up. As long as they can stand on their own two feet, they will endure and fight through whatever needs fighting in order to reach the end of their journey. They had presumed that the destruction of the Immortal Cell had ended their long struggle with sickness - and ended it with death, as well as the jackal god's vision that would promise the world's return to health and prosperity. But when they awoke on the archipelago of LifeAftr, such proved not to be the case at all...and even more perplexing, there would be innumerable others willing to not only tolerate the Drifter's presence, but accept them as something almost like an ally. As the Drifter has struggled to remain detached, in the tradition of a nomadic warrior such as themself, they have finally come to accept that this resolve will inevitably end in failure. Logistically and practically, it would never have been possible, and the Drifter has been forced to confront the simple fact that they have not avoided becoming attached; that they, in fact, care a great deal for everyone they have encountered, and are willing to pour everything they are into protecting them. |
∴ canon | ₪ cross-canon | ♥ friend | ▲ complicated | ⩺ worry | ✔ trusted | |||
| ✘ dislike | ✼ protect | ¿ unknown | ★ acquaintance | ◊ debt | ❖ sickness | |||
| ⋙ feared | ϟ threat | ⩕ helpful | 〷 terminate | ✧ neutral | ❱ avoid | |||
| ⍚ drifter | ⅄ kind | ⑊ kindred | ∏ worship |
beauregard ◆ critical role
₪ - ¿ - ★ - ⑊
[artist]
I made a wreck out of my hand
I put it through the wall
I made a fist and not a plan
Call me a reckless wrecking ball
I throw my plates against the wall
And give it all I got
I aim to break not one but all
I'm just a big ol' wrecking ball
It takes a dedicated hand
To put it through the wall
You gotta wanna break the heart
Of all those pretty porcelain dolls
You gotta want to be the drummer in the band
You gotta want to be a battering ram
You gotta see the artistry
In tearing the place apart with me baby
Let's break it
(just because we can)
Deface it
(just because we can)
Let's break it
Just because
I am unruly in the stands
(I am a rock on top of the sand)
I am a fist amidst the hands
And I make a wreck out of my hand
I make a fist and not a plan
And I break it
Just because I can