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Feb. 26th, 2010 08:13 amName: Wolfy
Livejournal Username: wolfyttwisted
E-mail: wolfyttwisted@gmail.com
AIM/MSN: CatfishSuicide
Timezone: ;-; wherever Mississippi is?
Current Characters in Route: Jack Skellington
Character
Name: Henry Townshend
Series: Silent Hill (Silent Hill 4: The Room)
Timeline: The VERY END OF THE GAME right before the last boss fight. Henry has to leap down a hole, in order face the true form of the devilish man that had been tormenting everyone in the game. However, instead of ending up in a scary chamber with a gyrating death machine in the center………..POKEMON TIME!
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.
Strengths:
Even if he isn’t terribly outgoing, it doesn’t mean he’s non-reactive. When bodily threatened and given no route of escape, Henry becomes very resourceful. Chunks of wood, stray golf clubs, or even broken bottles (if they aren’t broken, he’ll break them) are snatched up and put to use right away. Everything is a weapon. EVERYTHING. He will kill things until they are dead. And then stomp on them to make sure. An artist must be thorough.
It’s hard to startle Henry. Though he may become alarmed when monsters appear, he does not yelp or jump twelve feet in the air. He keeps a cool head and waits to see what’s going to happen before deciding on what to do. He’s not afraid to touch scary statues or dead bodies.
Henry is one chill bro. Unless you’re trying to stab him in the head, he’ll probably get along with you! He’s a good listener and though he may not have much to say back, he doesn’t judge. Henry is content to semi-smile and nod along. He actually enjoys the interaction and uses it as an example for when he gets around to opening up…you know, tomorrow! Or the day after.
Weaknesses:
Though he’s easy to get along with, Henry rarely makes the first move when it comes to contact with others and 9 times out of 10 ends up alienating himself. He is socially crippled. When important information needs to be shared, he has a short and silent yelling match inside his own head. PEOPLE NEED TO KNOW…BUT THAT INVOVLES OPENING MY MOUTH. Asdfkd. He means well, but doesn’t always act on it.
Though he will swing a shovel with all he’s got, he doesn’t got much. Henry is sort of noodley and doesn’t take beatings well. A good swipe from many of the monsters from his homeworld adventure will send him flying into the air like a thrown away rag doll.
Pokémon Information
Affiliation: Trainer
Starter: Shellder
Samples
First Person Sample:
[audio entry]
Hello? I was told to…I didn’t wake up in my room this time. I went through the hole and…this isn’t Ashfeild. There aren’t even any apartments here. I was told to use this phone…thing. Eileen?
Are you on this list, Eileen? Did they give you a phone?
This goes in a list, I think. It’s what the woman said who…said she’s my mother. Is this another of those worlds? There are monsters here, but they don’t look anything like the dogs. I don’t think this one even has any legs. I don’t think it’s dangerous but…
This is too much.
Third Person 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.”
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