Describe your character as if he was narrated by pic related

Am I supposed to know who the fuck this is?

>Never was one for lawmen. They just stood by and let the Mancers do their bloody work.
>This fella, though. There's a spark in him. When he heard of the Calamity, he went off to read the few lawbooks what survived to the Bastion.
>After a while, he said something funny to me.
>"You were in the right. 'Construction and possession of weapons of mass destruction', article 2."
>I'd never read that far. I really should have.
>Well, no point in crying over spilled milk. Maybe he's what this wasteland needs.
>A good and proper lawman.
>He even gave Kid a name.

You? No.
Someone intelligent? Yes.

>with a daddy like that, folks always expected the worst from the kid
>he never wanted to give them the satisfaction of being right
>lately it don't seem like he cares anymore

>Kid's daddy ran off when he was born, draggin' him along too
>Raised the best a lonely Mancer could, but the kid got to askin' question.
>Kid left to find the answers; came back with nothin' but nastiness and a wicked hankerin' for drink.
>Strength keeps him goin' but it's gotta end someday.

>See, kid's got a good heart, but his Pops never told him where he was really from.
>Kid wondered all his life why he was so damn angry with it all.
>Guess it was only a matter of time before he found out where he was really from. About them Axemen up North.
>Too bad. Now he's picked up that axe, neither of his homes are gonna let him in no more.

The narrator from Bastion.

The Firestarter was a scoundrel. Born to an escort and an adventure looking for a night with company. The only thing he left the kid were his powers. The kid was never taught how to live. The streets taught him the rest.

>Ever since he was little, all he ever wanted was to be strong.
>'Course he never really had a chance to get there. He was hamstrung from the start.
>His parents brought in doctors and medicine men from all over, but they said the same.
>Now, he didn't take too kindly to that.
>And there's only so many times you can break yourself upon a wall before the wall breaks first.

Reigos? Hehehe, quite the troublemaker in his youth. Young Moon Elf, you know the real >nasty ones, with a keen sense for the arcane.
>Had a good life going until he accidentally killed a classmate in school and was almost killed himself, or so he says.
>Left his ol' town a few years back. Now the lil rascal is getting himself into all kinds of trouble on the roads. Undead of all kinds just seem to ignore 'em. Strange, and definitely some of that magic stuff if you ask me.
>He saved our town about a week ago, matter of fact. Came through and cleared out the monsters. Traveled with three more, almost as strange as himself. Get outta here now, my tea is going to get cold with all this talkin'.

wtf happened to my formatting. mobile is fucking retarded. or maybe im retarded

>filename

>He's left the city recently. Said he's searching until he's found whatever. Didn't have much left going for him here.
>You ask me, his father has something to do with it.
>The local kids waved him goodbye and his old guild of bandits held a toast in his honor.
>That night, the brothel his mother worked at burned to the ground. A parting note for the rest of this city.

>Uncle Ruckus narration
Now that I would like to see.

>Folks say a little birdie tells 'em stuff.
>Well, this birdie ain't one fer talkin'.
>Ain't too little, either.

>Now you see children, what we got here is a dumb coon with chrome. He can't hold down a good job at any corporation, Not even the generous white man's Ares. . He's been leaching off of the white man's success, doing nigger work in the shadows.

Fucking moar!

Bastion's Narrator
Think Morgan Freeman channeling a Clint Eastwood character

>Ya see this uppity half measure of a nigger thinkin' that he can understand comedy. Now, a nigger can certainly make people laugh, but that ain't because he's good at tellin' jokes.

>Some women spread their legs. She, she spilled blood.
>Ain't no different. Selling yourself for the pleasure of others.
>But then the Sun touched her one day, burned his sunburst into her brow.
>Gotta decide what she'll sell herself for now.

>Now ya got this little white man, gnome or some such, and hes just riding around on a trained dog. Imagine that? Half the size but still twice the creativity of the average adult negro. Bet you my left ass cheek that dog is to.

>Like a kid I once knew, the white hair doesn't do her any favors. She hides a lot of scars, but they ain't from battle or misery. Her radiance inspires jealousy in the sun, which left her to bleed out from wounds only the sun can bestow. Kid's on borrowed time, and the ferryman is losing his patience.

Jesus christ how horrifying.

>Her radiance inspires jealousy from the sun
You blew it.

It's hard two right properlee when you're suffering drowsy side effects from allergy pills.

>Kid's angry, mad even. Mad over the year he doesn't remember. Mad over what the anger has made him do.
>Kid hopes that death'll set him free from the anger and to his next try.
>It's a shame that his deliverance is what made him mad to begin with.
>Kid ought to have remembered that.

>Kid only wanted to learn to play some music. Had no idea it'd end up like it did.
>Now he runs around, Hell on his heels, no reason to keep going 'cept fear of what happens if he stops.
>Kid swore he'd life his life alone. Didn't want others to get wrapped up in his fate. Far as he's concerned, he's a dead man, and they don't need to hop into his grave.
>Trouble is, the Kid's friends disagree.

Bump

Well yeah he's racist against flashstepping goth people.

>Ura know to respect the gods.
>We turned em into dolls.

>Now had two things we had in common. The first was a limp. The second was getting a child to do an adult's job.
>But unlike me she did her best to keep up with the kid. Despite the pain. Despite the worry.

>Man's mind has been rattled by one too many exploding concoctions and pungent precipitates
>Spent his whole life trying to be useful to someone important to him
>But what really shook him was when he realised he was never needed

>The boy's in way over his head. Mages, politicians, warlocks, killers. All the boy does is work metal, though he works it well. He don't go around killin' folks.
>But the boy has a better reason to be here than any of 'em, and that counts for something.
>Of course, the gun doesn't hurt either.

I don't get it, what's special about the scars?

Dunno If I'm doing It right

>He swore not to be anything like his teacher
>But what he learned in the past would still haunt him forever

>Such pain he inflicted by trying not to kill
>He never stopped to think about It
>We was much too busy for that

>Such a weird thing, finding comfort among the greedy and the cruel
>Not having to guess whether they good or bad
>He liked keeping his wits like just like he was liking his blades
>sharp and constatntly tested

Skin cancer.

>you have to know about a pretentious indie game to be intelligent
lul

No, but you do have to be able to interpret that "Bastion_Narrator.png" probably means the narrator from Bastion, and then be able to Google Bastion.

>Girl used ta be quiet. Laid up in bed all day, ain't even dared to dream.
>Then the Union came up ta her folks, tell them she's chosen. They're gonna make a pilot outta her.
>Girl can't stop movin' and smilin' now. But she aughta learn to look.
>Never know if she's runnin' towards freedom or the pit.

>Fake it until you make it, some folk say. Awful thing to fake, a smile. She goes around, hair dyed, drinking, smoking, fighting, she finds all sorts of things to fill the void in her heart that isn't the damn thing that's supposed to go there in the first place.

Knowledge is worse than the brew. At least with liquor, when you've had too much, your body stops working and you collapse into a puddle. What happened to him, though, on the inside? Well, let's just say that I'd rather drink then recount that story again.

I've always loved these threads, never could get into the right head space to do one though

>He might not be much of a kid anymore, but his heart's in the same place as one. He just wants to have fun.
>Ain't so fun when he sees his friends get pulped by a big ol' werewolf. That made him mad.
>Turns out that he's got a funny reaction to adrenaline. He started havin' fun again when he turned the lycan into a limbless nugget with nothin' but his bare hands.
>Did you know that werewolf tastes like pork? He sure does.