OOC Minecraft Username: lightnotheavy Are you at least 18 years old?: Yes Have you read the rules? (Link): Yes — In-Character Read the following prompt: The rhythmic lull of hoofbeats are a marching drum to the small group of pioneers and variety of folk you have found yourself amongst, packed into a wobbling wagon. The rolling plains of the Southern Reach and a clear sky stretch out all around you, the buzz of excited chatter a dull wash in your ears as your mind strays to your former life and what has led you here to new lands. “Nervous?” You blink, returning to the present moment. A kindly older woman sat near you is smiling warmly with a crinkle to her eyes. “I can tell it’s your first time. Still remember mine,” she flashes a grin and leans in. “Tell me my dear, why have you come to the Reach?” How do you respond (in character)? Pip blinks at the woman, his weathered hands still resting on the fishing rod laid across his lap. It was the only possession he'd bothered to bring that mattered. The question hangs in the air for a moment while he stares at her, just processing. “Why?” He echoes slowly, brow furrowing slightly. “Figured.. there’d be different people here. New ones.” He shifts in his seat on the wagon bench, scratching his jaw. His stubble is uneven, patchy in some places where hair hadn't grown. “Been watchin’ folk fish the same waters my whole life. Been to Mariza. Same merchants at the docks, same sailors coming with tall tales. Half of ‘em probably made up for better coin,” he says flatly. “They all say the same things are good. Same things are bad. But I don’t know if they *know*, or if they’re just.. saying it because that’s what you’re supposed to say.” Pip’s gaze drifts towards the three other passengers on the wagon. A young couple holding hands, muttering sweet nothings about new beginnings, a merchant counting coins, a man with a holy symbol around his neck. His eyes linger on each one, studying. When the merchant's pouch shifts, Pip catches the glint of a lucky coin among the ordinary currency. Something flickers in his otherwise blank expression. Without explanation, he begins to shift his position, gathering his fishing rod and moving to sit closer to the merchant. "Out here, people gotta make new choices. Build things from nothing. Help each other or don't." He glances back at the woman briefly, his expression oddly earnest. "Wanna see what they do when nobody's told them the proper words for it yet." He pauses, then adds, almost as an afterthought. "Also heard the fishing's good." A beat of silence. Then, unprompted, he asks. "Are *you* a good person?" — Character Name: Pip Fishbucket Character Race: Human Character Age: 22 Brief Physical Description:  Pip is the type of human you’d pass on the street without a second glance. He’s a lowborn Valk of average height, with unremarkable features and simple clothes that almost permanently smell faintly of seawater and yesterday's catch. His frame is small, and so he makes his living with a fishing rod and patience, two things he has in abundance. His facial expression is blank for the most part. Image of Skin and Figura Model: