CRANE, william james

[William J. Crane]

i get all numb

--------------& it's william james crane to you.
----------------------------- ( what a wonderful day, what a wonderfully tragic day )

gender; male
age; 29
orientation; asexual

when she sings it's over

build; lanky and unattractively thin
height; 6'1''
weight; 172
hair; brunette
eye; dark brown
overall; William Crane is a curious looking creature from a questionable plane of existence. Sitting atop his constantly cocked head is a shaggy monster, composed of nothing but fibrous strands of brown, that refuses to become tamed by any comb or brush. Cascading down a brow wrinkled with worry and the most emaciated of cheeks, looping back up over the thin somewhat square-ish jaw, we come to a set of chapped lips, ripped and jagged to pinker tint than normal. Rolling through a trashy stubble, and on our way past an old man’s button-nose, we must look through thick-rimmed glasses, uneven in their rest (and optional for the most part), to eyes emptied by depression and depravation of all the things that matter. The iris, which blends into the pupil, seems to remain in a constant dilation, as if the possessor of these eyes is vacant of mind due to a mysterious drug or perhaps merely lacking said mind as previously stated.

From the face, we move to the body of this Mr. Crane, which remains just as emaciated as that of a stretched skeleton. Thus, his movements tend to be somewhat nimble and airy despite him being incredibly clumsy. His arms are painted with queer marks of scientific and mathematical equations, practically illegible to any other person being that it is written by his own hand. The rest of his body, as stated is very, unattractively thin. Slender and seemingly fragile. As if the slightest touch would break him to pieces. Thankfully, this awful sight is hidden beneath an attire that is mostly whatever has been filched from a corpse.

such a strange numb

personality; The personality, if one still remains, of William Crane is a meek man taken asunder by insanity. William was the kind of man that would remain calm in most stressful situations, although with a rising tone, and grin during conversations which forced his engagement. Being somewhat strange in appearance, even when at the peak of health, and perhaps even withdrawn he never obtained many friends in his lifetime. Nor did he care to seek out any more than what he had. Thus now his social behavior has declined to speak when spoken to and expected to reply. A once bottled anger now gathers easily and is dispersed with all the more hostility. However, he is no fool and chooses his battles carefully. Although broken, he possesses an intelligent mind that does what it can when called upon.

strengths; • Intelligent • Literate/Articulate (When he does get around to talking, or isn't on the fritz William is well-spoken and has tendencies to correct other's dialogue) • Dexterous (See Clumsy/Fumbling) • Strong-willed

weaknesses; • Feeble • Antisocial (In the sense that, he lacks the capacity to become a part of a group, which would better him for safety purposes in this kind of environment) • Clumsy/Fumbling (This may seem somewhat contradicting, but clumsy and fumbling pretains to his movements as a whole, whereas the dexterous part of all this refers mostly to just his hands, which have been trained by his profession to become so deft) • Emotional (He's rather a loose cannon mentally, thus his emotions can be somewhat radical at times)

likes; • Peace and quiet • Blowing shit up • Knowing the answer • Spouting useless information

dislikes; • Blistering cold • Aggression • Being tricked/fooled • Being threatened

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inventory; William's choice of weaponry are small, homemade bombs composed of whatever materials he can find lying around. And when this resource is exhausted, he carries with him a metal bat. Ominous in its nature, being that the entire forth part is encased in dried blood and slightly bent. William doesn't carry much else with him, other than a few miscellaneous materials used in the creation of his bombs which is mostly just bags of powder and other residue.[/blockquote]

and it brings my knees to the earth

family;

father; Philip Crane
mother; Carrington Leah Crane
siblings; Briton Frederick Crane
spouse; None
children; None
other; None?

birth place; Edinburgh, Pennsylvania
history; William was born the typical way, and grew up as any other normal child. Although his father was never there, it wasn’t exactly uncommon, thus he was never truly bothered by it. His mother raised William and Briton all on her own in Edinburgh, Pennsylvania. She was truly a strong ox, the farmer’s pick. But as she grew older she became less able. Just as she had taken care of her two boys, they stayed with her and took care of her.

William went through his childhood some would describe as being antisocial. He didn’t interact with the other children much, and preferred to play alone. Until born was the sweetest face he’d ever seen, that of his brother Briton. He loved his brother so dearly; the two grew up practically inseparable. William never made many friends throughout his life, except possibly two or three. He always figured if he had his brother, he wouldn’t need anyone else. And he didn’t. However, this wasn’t a normal kind of love he shared with his sibling. The one ugly wound on their otherwise normal family was the disgusting attraction between the two siblings.

The hardest times for William came when he had to go off to college. Of course, letters and such were exchanged during the timeframe but it seemed like such a long, long time past when he was away. On returning home, he was relieved to find nothing had changed. The family he’d left greeted him with the same loving arms. And so their lives went on, until as mentioned earlier the mother became unable to work. William worked harder and Briton became something between a housewife and a nanny, taking care of the homestead and the mother.

It was William’s day off, he and his brother sitting on the sofa with their mother dozing in the recliner beside them. Briton was being especially frisky, trying to steal kisses from William when he knocked the remote over and a button was hit that the channel changed to the local news. A report on a strange virus went unnoticed by the two children wrestling on the couch. Perhaps, if it had been watched then… then maybe there’d be a chance Briton would—

William found a letter in the mail from a Philip Crane. He opened it with a doubtful curiosity, and read it with even more animosity. The letter was tossed aside, for Briton to uncover later on in the day and present a horde of questions. William was always understanding and kind about things, this would truly be the first argument between the two siblings as Briton went on to inquire as to why he wouldn’t want to at least meet this Philip Crane. And William had responded, “Then perhaps, if it means so much more to you, you meet him.” Unlike William, Briton was much more stubborn and strong-willed. Which is why he left for England the next day, leaving nothing more behind than a note on the fridge.

A week went by without notice. A week turned into a month. William was flustered by depression, annoyance, frustration, hatred, worry… virtually all emotions adjacent to happiness. He had tried sending letters through Philip Crane’s return address. But when nothing came back, he assumed it was only Briton being stubborn as usual. Of course Briton knew he would become worried and come looking for him! William refused to be tricked by his brother, thus he remained in Pennsylvania for a few more weeks until he overheard of the virus spreading in England. The very next second, William was at the airport bickering viciously trying to get a flight to England.

You see, America thought closing its borders would prevent the spread, but it wouldn’t. Somewhere between the mass collapse of the greatest empires, William had snagged a boat ride to England with many other people. Within the two weeks they spent onboard, two-thirds of those people died. And when the boat finally hit the shores of England, there were only nine people still alive.

From the time William left America, to the time he arrived at the empty house of Philip Crane in Leeds, England he had become a cynical, deprived man desperate to find his dear brother no matter how likely it was that he was already dead.

and god bless you all

alias; GRAWR?
age; 17
experience; A few years, maybe...
sample;
The rocks refused to cease their movement even when the confused boy was certain he no longer agitated them. A thunderous pounding against the Earth had them pop from their slumber, a tremor as it was projecting them upwards. Gie was almost certain of the cause, certain because over the pounding he could hear the bellows of a horrifying beast mere leaps away. While apprehensive fear caused his muscles to lock, it loosened his iris and his pupils dilated to accommodate the free space set for them. While he wandered this far out on sheer luck alone, Gie was positive the luck that would get him home had plummeted to a negative chance.

It was a gluttonous creature that teetered on the edge of unrealistic motion. Several blows could be pin-pointed, and while one seemed fatal the monster only reeled backward for the slightest moment, only to once again pursue his target. The youth, sitting in the most vulnerable of positions, was so awe-stricken he hadn’t noticed the girl being pursued until her tight grip latched painfully to his arm. In doing so, it snapped him out of his fearful daze and he comprehended the need to run. Fast.

The beast roared, quickening its pace after the two. Gie, caught up in his own survival, failed to acknowledge the quality of the girl beside him over his own. His palpitating heart drummed within his chest in rhythm with the smacking of his feet against the ground and heaving breaths to keep his pace, as well as run all the faster when necessary. The object to strike the beast never crossed his mind, until he realized he was holding tightly still to a rock. Gulping down the reservoir of saliva forming within his mouth, with an exasperated cry he tossed the rock aside in no attempt to harm the beast, for he knew his feeble arm wouldn’t lessen this plight.

No sooner had he released the stone did his mind wander over the possibilities. Meanwhile, the brain-power required to remain at a constant was leased to these trivial thoughts, thus causing him to trip over his own foot and tumble to the ground. Gie choked on the cloud of dust gathered by his tremulous fall, but once it cleared the motion of his eyes climbed over tough scales, flabby flesh and boils to reach what he assumed were eyes gazing down on him. He scurried back a pace, whimpering while doing so, quivering while whimpering while scurrying back in a desperate attempt to flee. Why hadn’t he risen and ran as before? Why not had he? Because Gie was staring at his demise.

At this immediate point in time, he couldn’t scream. He tried and tried to make some sort of noise, anything that may just confuse and dazzle the beast enough so that he may escape. God whistled in his ear in the form of the slow wind blowing his hair out of sorts, covering his vision of the moment. Hastily his fingers rose to clear his sights, not wanting to lose lock on the teasing monster that bellowed a kaleidoscope of bodily fluids. And then it fell over, convulsing. Gie inhaled when he realized he stopped breathing. Disbelief and reluctance replaced the initial terror. There was no way it would fall, just like that… he looked for the girl, reasoning she was the only explanation for this.

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for the song you sang, saved us

[romain zadok fontenot]

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