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Goodnight Robicheaux ([personal profile] killerangel) wrote2016-11-02 10:07 pm

Sojourner

OOC:



PLAYER NAME: Gabe


AIM (optional): RadynAtarien


IC:



CHARACTER NAME: François “Goodnight” Robicheaux


DISPLAY NAME: Goodnight Robicheaux


CANON: The Magnificent Seven (2016)


CANON POINT: After his death near the end of the movie.


AGE: Early 50s


PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION: Old for his age, Goodnight Robicheaux is a gaunt and grey man with a troubled air about him that belies his smile lines and his easy manner. He’s of average height and frame, but looks lankier than he is through the grace of lean living and a long horse face; he looks as though he could stand to put on a few pounds, even though he’s not actually particularly skinny and carries a modest amount of muscle. His hair, once fair brown, has now gone almost entirely grey; he keeps it tidily slicked back and maintains a well-trimmed beard. His teeth, while not horrible for the 1890s, have the look of being jammed haphazardly into his mouth in a time before effective orthodontics. He has pensive blue eyes.


Goodie is a dapper dresser, favoring blue-greys and grey-blues, and generally maintains the look of a fading Southern gentleman fallen to hardscrabble Old Western living. His taste in accessories can run to the slightly gauche, slightly dandyish. He can almost always be found in a hat--though he takes it off indoors, his mama didn’t raise a savage!--and usually with his weapons on him, though he comes from a milieu where this is perfectly normal. His carriage is relaxed and confident, almost lazy, which is an illusion; he has a slightly hoarse tenor voice with a marked Southern accent.


HISTORY: François Robicheaux was born to minor Cajun wealth near New Orleans, Louisiana in the 1840s. He grew up immersed in bloody privilege, an intelligent but carefree and immature boy who did very little self-examination or, for that matter, examination of the world. He was lazy and unmotivated; he liked being liked and he liked coasting. His life was easy; even his early awareness of his homosexuality failed to put much of a crimp in his silver-spoon style. He spent much of his youth gadding about with his friends, flirting noncommittally with girls, and getting drunk and losing his family’s money. Then in his early twenties, the Civil War broke out, and François had the vague idea that he should join up. Join up, and make his family happy: join up, and find a reason to go away and seek adventure and procrastinate settling down. With his birth and his education, he quickly found himself a Confederate captain. His political opinions were indifferent and hazily formed; he had the notion that he would find glory and camaraderie.


That was not what he found. He found blood and death and brutal killing, perpetrated and experienced; he found complete disillusionment with the Confederate cause, which went from indifferent to repellent to him; and of course, he also found that he was a horrifically gifted sharpshooter. He killed a sizable number of Union soldiers before he was done, he also developed a horror of battle, an aversion to killing, and what modern doctors would recognize as a fairly horrendous case of post-traumatic stress disorder. The war changed him catastrophically--into a better person, probably, as well as a miserable one--and he walked away from it with the nickname Goodnight Robicheaux and no desire to go back to his old life. Haunted and wretchedly unhappy, he drifted through the western territories, half-suicidal and half terrified of death; he took up bounty hunting to make money.


It was after years of this that he accepted a warrant from a railroad company to bring in a runaway indentured worker, who’d reportedly killed two of his bosses before running. Goodnight tracked him to Texas, where he discovered that his quarry was, in fact, Billy Rocks: who dazzled him instantly with his grace and deadliness in a fight. Goodnight watched Billy take on a bar full of hostile men and was, frankly, fairly instantly smitten; he decided to befriend Billy rather than attempting to bring him in. After some initial wariness on Billy’s part, Billy and Goodnight became friends and traveling companions, then lovers and business partners--Billy becoming a prizefighter, and Goodie helping him make his way in the world and running wagers on him. Billy also became indispensable to Goodie in helping him cope with his trauma: protecting him from triggers, calming him down, keeping him company, and procuring him opium to soothe his emotions. The two were shortly inseparable.


Their lives took another sharp turn when Goodnight was contacted by an old friend of his, Sam Chisolm, requesting Goodnight’s help with an impossible task--defending the town of Rose Creek against a cruel robber baron with a hundred times their resources. Goodie accepted, and Billy came with him, joining what would be a group of only seven professional fighters. However, in the early defense of the town Goodie suffered from debilitating flashbacks and nightmares and, before the final standoff, turned tail and fled Rose Creek, leaving Billy behind. Goodnight soon mustered the courage to face his demons and came back in time to warn the defenders and, after reuniting with Billy, take up defense of the town. The two died together providing cover fire for one of their friends on an essential suicide mission, completely destroyed by the fire of a Gatling gun.


PERSONALITY: Goodnight Robicheaux is a man who, to some degree, operates on the razor-thin upper edge of functionality--a fragile arrangement of precariously balanced behaviors and personality traits that are always threatening to come down like a house of cards. He is friendly, capable, thoughtful, considerate, and mature--brave and in some ways formidable--but in other ways this is a rickety bridge over the gaping chasm in the center of his psyche. While he isn’t his PTSD, his untreated PTSD has defined his life for decades, shattering his confidence and his sense of self-worth as well as much of his self-sufficiency--meaning that to him, it defines his life and his self at this point. He sees himself fundamentally as a burden on his friends and loved ones (loved one, realistically), a liability on any team, and though he has sham bravado enough to carry him through most situations, he thinks he is haunted by the twin specters of failure and guilt. He’s had enough recent redemptive experiences to wipe out his slate in the eyes of many, but they’re not enough for him: it’s impossible for anything to be enough for him in this regard. As far as happiness and self-regard go, he is a cup with a hole in it. It’s not hard at all to trigger him--especially in violent situations, or situations with the threat of violence about them--and it’s not hard to make him feel like shit, either; left to his own devices he is a factory for his own negative ideation.


This all makes Goodnight sound like a drag to be around. Largely he isn’t, at all--he’s a grown man with a lot of experiencing hauling himself along in life, as well as an amiable extrovert with a fondness for people, a quite open mind, and a lot of interest in new things. Personally he’s easy to get along with, socially confident and capable of a fair amount of code-switching and interpersonal adaptivity to others’ various personalities and needs. He has a sense of humor that ranges from the morbid to the fairly silly and embarrassing, and frequently employs it; he tends to be a font of dubious aphorisms from the Robicheaux family, about three-quarters of which are assuredly invented wholecloth, and has friendly commentary on most situations while also being fairly aware of when to keep his trap shut. Well, mostly aware. He could be a little more aware. He’s a gambling man, though most of what he gambles on is Billy Rocks; he drinks a lot, though probably not more than most men of his acquaintance, and is fairly psychologically dependent on opium as the closest thing to a psychiatric medication his period has to offer. With women and children he tends to be gallant and nonthreatening; the only thing that really gets his hackles immediately up is threats to Billy, whether social or otherwise, though he’s well aware Billy can take care of himself in the ‘otherwise’ department.


It’s worth mentioning that he is, in fact, completely dependent on Billy; Billy is his protector in multiple ways, and Goodie is Billy’s as well, although he has a hard time seeing that himself sometimes. They shore up one another’s weaknesses a great deal. Separated from Billy, Goodie can sooort of take care of himself--physically at least--but he hasn’t had to be separated from Billy in a very long time. That being said, Goodnight’s heart has a fair amount of room in it for other people--his is not a form of unhappiness that shuts others out, or clings exclusively to one person--and he is a loyal and reliable friend and willing to trust the judgment of others, particularly if they also trust his in return. He would die to defend what he cares about, and in fact he already has. He’s a miserable, haunted man; but he finds happiness where he can take it, and he lives life with more joie de vivre than he’s entirely aware of or able to appreciate.


ABILITIES: Goodie is, of course, a sharpshooter of some renown; with that come a keen, observant eye and an incredibly steady and precise hand. He also owns and can handle a pistol and knows his way decently around a knife. The practical reliability of any of these combat skills, however, is shaky: Goodie’s trauma makes him avoidant and frightened of doing violence, unsure of himself as a fighter, and given to flashbacks. Physically otherwise he’s not in the prime of his life, but he’s in good shape and is a good rider (and generally good with animals) and would pass a doctor’s muster as a healthy middle-aged man.


He is personable and good with people, and a fairly natural leader and manager, from his temperament and military background both; he also takes easily to direction and working with others. Otherwise, he’s a levelheaded businessman, is familiar with polite society (of his time and place), and a capable card player. He can play the piano, though not beautifully. He speaks English and French and can probably serve a warrant in Spanish. His Korean pronunciation, unfortunately, could make greenery wilt.


POSSESSIONS: A repeating rifle and a pistol; a flask; a gun belt; and a suit of somewhat tacky blue-and-grey fleur-de-lys-themed clothing.


ANYTHING ELSE: Newp!