Rosenhall

Death Cures All

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• Name: Ulysses Rosenhall.
  Nicknames: Lyss, Rose, Rosey.
  Age: Late 20s to early 30s at time of death.
  Height: 5'11" and 3/4"
  Weight: 127 lbs, absolutely soaking wet.
  Species: Human (Hyooman).
  Subspecies: Zombie (Voudun, not Viral).
  
  Eyes: Cloudy, rotten pumpkin.
  Eyebrows: None to speak of.
  Hair: Cropped quarantine short, the texture of boar's bristles and bleached with death.
  Teeth: Posthumously sharpened into a bear-trap grin.
  Build: Lanky, emaciated and tall; he'd make a perfect scarecrow.
  Markings: His body is covered with veves that had been tattooed into his skin postmortem. He also has an unfinished "cat's game" of noughts and crosses (tic-tac-toe) that has been tattooed over his heart--most likely as a sick joke.
  Piercings: A large D-ring at his nape.
  
  Likes: Food, flowers (especially daisies), gifts (regardless of their nature or quality).
  Dislikes: The Concept of Death. Also possessed of a severe phobia of both lapines and fire. Deep pools of water/baths.
  
  
  

  
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• Sight: Severely myopic. He can see anything in the immediate area (2-3 feet) rather well, but anything further than that is blurry to the point of being indistinguishable.
  
  Hearing: The creature could hear a pin drop. He relies on his sense of hearing for just about anything and it only seems to have gotten keener in death. He remembers voices, not faces. He hunts for rats by listening for their scratchy little footsteps under the floorboards. The chances of sneaking up on this one are notably slim.
  
  Smell: Also remarkably keen, though apparently he can ignore his own stench (Which is more poor hygiene than actual rot. Seems death puts cleanliness into perspective.) He identifies people, prospective meals, and the state of someone by smell as much as hearing. His nose is so keen that he's able to recognize fellow undead no matter how convincing they may look. (Vampires traveling incognito, beware.)
  
  Taste: Rosenhall has lost nearly all sense of taste, which is fortunate considering the sorts of things he eats.
  
  Touch: The monster's central nervous system is a mess. Vast areas are almost completely dead, leaving him seemingly impervious to pain, whilst others are hypersensitive to an unpleasant degree. Which is which is up to the braver among you to find out.
  
  Memory & Cerebral Functioning: This also being a part of the central nervous system, is wishy-washy at best. Sometimes Ulysses will say something profound or recant a fond memory with the utmost clarity, most of the time he's content to cackle and drool on himself like the village idiot.
  
  Respiration: The man does breathe. Having a working pair of lungs is essential to the creature's speech, though most of the time his breathing is so shallow it's difficult to notice. In the rare moments when he is more active, his breathing rate (and pulse rate) increases. If Rosenhall happens to find himself asphyxiated, he will go into an immobile 'death' state. This state is reversed once his airways are cleared.
  
  Cardiovascular System: Rosenhall has a working heart. It pumps a thin, dark blood that clots a bit too quickly, giving it a thick, almost syrupy appearance when exposed to air. His blood pressure varies, but it tends to be very low with an equally low pulse rate. Those taking his pulse might not notice one if he hasn't been particularly active. This also makes the wretch frightfully cold to the touch. In the event that his heart does stop, he goes into an immobile status and can be considered 'dead.' If left alone for a while, his heart will slowly repair itself and resume functioning again.
  
  Ambulation: Normally, Ulysses moves as slow as molasses in winter. This only seems to be compounded by the man's lethargic demeanor. This, however, does not mean that he isn't capable of speed. Rosenhall can skitter. He is able to move alarmingly fast when he wants to, though his stamina is quite poor, so such bursts of speed are usually confined to emergency or hunting situations. His poor eyesight also discourages him from moving quickly unless he's got a fairly good mental map of the area in his head. All in all: he's a sprinter and not built for distance or endurance running.
  
  Strength: Rosenhall isn't so much strong as he lacks the sense of self-preservation that hold most men back. Having a shoddy neurological system also contributes to his feats of strength: unable to feel pain in some parts of his body, he will keep pushing himself, completely unawares of any bodily harm inflicted by his own or others actions. He is, however, reasonably aware of his own fragility and doesn't willingly enter into situations he isn't certain he's capable of handling.
  
  
  

  
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• Rosenhall carries a fraying and suspiciously stained burlap satchel.
  
  Contents Include:

  • A golden earring.
  • A large coin of questionable, foreign origins.
  • A doctor's scalpel.
  • A braid of dry, pink hair.
  • A broken pocket watch.
  • A wooden toy train with chipped paint. Missing a wheel. Looks to have been chewed on.
  • A broken wooden wheel. Definitely chewed upon.
  • A thing called 'Midge' which seems alive.

  
  
  

  
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