Lightly touching his forehead where he had not long ago been hit by a wooden bat, he winced and snapped from his lifeless state. He looked up at her, his jaw stiffened as he tried to speak. She shook her head, placing her hand over his eyes and shutting them softly.
Of all the things he could’ve said then, it had to have been the most random statement she heard in quite a long while. “What day is it?”
She stared at him, surprised that the man could even speak. “Thursday.” She pulled her hand away so he could see her.
“Oh.” There was a moment of realization on his face. “Why do I keep thinkin’ that it’s Monday?” He laughed and slapped a bloody hand over his face. He seemed to be in more pain than anything even as he chuckled softly to himself. “This has gotta be the worst fuckin’ week ever.”
Alexander Wolfgang came from a dysfunctional family, although the reality of it didn’t at all hit him until much later. Before that, everything had been peaceful in his own little world of naïveté and wealth in Core, Louisiana. He never really was very close to his family, save for his mother, Breña, and his brother, Dominick. Due to the twelve-year age gap, he never really felt all that close with his eldest brother, Marcus; his relationship with his father wasn’t much better. He found out later down the line that his parents were actually second cousins in an arranged marriage, which probably didn’t contribute much to the stability of their filial ties.
Even in the midst of family drama, little Alexander had a pleasant childhood, spending a lot of time with his loving mother and his caring brother. In some ways he was a mama’s boy while growing up, as they oftentimes spent their mornings in the vineyards. His world, however, was torn apart when he and Dominick watched their mother die in a freak accident. Alexander was nine. Not long afterward, he slipped and fell down the stairs at home during an argument with his father, and was hospitalized for several months.
With a large piece of his skull missing from the fall, he had to get a protective plate. It’s over his forehead. Some fake hair, a lighter tone than his natural, reddish color, covers that plate over his head where he would’ve otherwise been bald. He doesn’t regard it much, or even bring up the fact that it’s fake hair. If he pulled up the bangs, the edges of the metal plate could be seen.
His father had abandoned him, his brothers were the only people he could turn to. By then Alexander had lost much trust even in them, despite Dominick’s frequent visits in the hospital. Fearing that the unfortunate events had been wrought by the boy’s own undoing, he pushed everyone away, blaming himself for everything going wrong, like he was cursed or something. No one knew why, except that paranoia told the child that their mother had gone away because of him. Alexander had latent abandonment issues.
One day, he was led out of the hospital by a pair of twins, Marie and Leon Mageau, who were both about the same age as Alexander at the time. He ran away without knowing of his father’s suicide until months afterwards, when Alexander had turned ten. Somehow, Dominick managed to call him up by phone, in a warehouse they had been squatting in. Alexander refused to attend the funeral.
By that time Alexander had caught himself in a system of bad habits as well as a bad crowd of people, although not exactly including the twins, who he had grown to be close friends with. He was influenced by a man named Jerusalem Kavar, who he had met a few weeks before his accident by chance. Jerusalem was an Ophelian—people who are feared by most but a reliable pillar for the black market. Like the twins, Alexander stayed safe under Jerusalem’s wing, and decided for the next decade to raise Alexander as well.
From that day onward, the one condition Kavar ever had was that Alexander had to undergo a risky operation, which would Link their brains. He also had to continue school. So he did both. He also got himself caught in a mess of addictions. He attended riots and raves after classes, used drugs and drank alcohol in abundance, and developed a wanton nature. Alexander isn’t the most attractive man now, although back then he didn’t look so bad, drugs aside—or so he’d like to believe. He lost his virginity at the age of fifteen (with a woman about six years his senior. Up unto college, he had gone through many girlfriends, and not many he could list by name).
For those short, meager years, Alexander was on top of the world, and he never knew that he was friends with some of the most powerful people in Ophelia. He continued on in ignorance, hanging out with friends, living in daily unawareness… Alexander was pompous and arrogant, and the world was his oyster. He used people for drugs and sex, and at sixteen he started going to “dog fights” and watched men rip each other apart, violent and grotesquely. He got into several fights himself, even killed a few people. They became terrorists, as Alexander had since developed a fascination with explosives. Life as an Ophelian was lethal if you didn’t know how to survive in it; the life expectancy for everyone wasn’t much older than their thirties or forties.
When Alexander was eighteen, he got caught in the middle of a brutal riot. He had been driving to class that morning, when suddenly he found himself being blocked off by a barricade of people, who proceeded to throw him out of his car and beat him repeatedly. They had been doing this to many of those passing by throughout that morning. This beating went on for nearly fifteen minutes, until Jerusalem and Leon showed up. If it weren’t for the Links, Jerusalem wouldn’t have known, and Alexander would have been killed.
With other Ophelians, they fought off the rioters, giving Jerusalem enough time to carry Alexander off to the hospital. The rest had just been a blur, except the vague memory of Jerusalem fighting with one of the passing doctors and nurses. When Alexander woke, he was covered in bandages and casts. Practically every bone in his body was broken, sprained, fractured. Fortunately, with the modern technology he recovered at a faster rate. However, some functions (particularly the one to serve his wanton nature) would no longer work.
After that, Alexander became ashamed of himself as well as his scarred body. He wore modest clothes to conceal himself, and no longer expressed much interest in sex. Even if he did have any interest, he was no longer capable of it. Not to mention the many who were put off when he did so much as take off his shirt. If he could, Alexander’s social status in Ophelia wasn’t enough to get anyone to sleep with him.
By this point, school was pretty much the only thing he had left anymore, so he focused less on sex and violence and more on his studies as soon as he was released from the hospital. Finally, he managed to finish high school. While Jerusalem took care of him at home, Alexander raised himself with a proper education, using the money he would make on his black market jobs with Jerusalem. He became an avid reader as well, having nothing better to do on the several months he spent, recuperating at the hospital. His favorite writers were Henry D. Thoreau, William Faulkner, and Archibald MacLeish. He grew to enjoy listening to much older music, like Bob Dylan, The Animals, and The Beatles.
One day he met a young woman named Reene Kuan at a university in Marter.
He was twenty-years-old then, a sophomore in college. Almost instantly he formed a lust for his peer, signing up for the same classes as she and following her wherever she went. She had showed him kindness and gentleness that is rarely ever seen in the world he grew to know all so well. He decided to love her.
Surprisingly, she returned his affections. But she hid a secret that would’ve changed many things had she even known what it was: She was very ill with a sickness that would eventually kill her. Thus, Alexander abandoned most of his previous life so he could be committed to Reene and Reene alone, taking care and loving her. Upon realizing this, her feelings for Alexander turn into something darker, something he couldn’t even comprehend that was controlling and swaying him without his ever knowing.
Two years into their relationship, Reene was killed.
There are holes in Alexander’s memories from that night, and the few weeks prior to the event. He doesn’t remember much of anything these days.
The night before Reene died, something happened to Alexander’s Link to Jerusalem Kavar, as he flipped a total one-eighty and turned to despise Alexander. Jerusalem also managed to turn the twins against him, telling them that Alexander had lied and deceived and tried to kill Jerusalem (which, in a sense, is not far from the truth. Alexander just can’t remember all too well).
Links are considered remnants of Old Technology. A Link would be to “synchronize your brain with another’s Link. A Link which embedded a benign tumor into your skull.” Needless to say, to Link with another person is a dangerous operation, and a more dangerous if not expensive way of creating a bond with someone. In the times when they had been more popular, it was popular to Link yourself with someone as the equivalent of creating a “blood bond” with another person. Because Links are literally tumors in the brain, there are serious repercussions even after the operation. It was because of those repercussions that this piece of Old Technology had been recalled, and banned from use in more common hospitals. In spite of this, some people have managed to get past the system and find ways to get Linked with others anyway.
There are several consequences to Links as well. For instance, it is said that if one of the Linked were to experience any severe mental or emotional trauma—especially to their fellow Linked—then it could cause the device in their brain to rupture. Although this has never been known to happen, it is speculated that it could cause brain damage, if not worse and kill the person. Somehow, Alexander assumed that the Link between him and Kavar had broke, as he suffered severe delusions and mental instability since the fallout with Kavar. The fallout had been so severe that the trauma from the Link that night had shattered between the two friends.
Alexander nearly died with Reene that same day, and on many occasions he wished he did die. But something he couldn’t explain happened, and he is still alive. For how long, he doesn’t know, though he had plenty of run-ins with death to know that he is not as enduring as he used to think.
Whatever happened the night before Reene died, it had become the catastrophic result in Jerusalem’s betrayal. Alexander had always supposedly been a man down on his luck, and experienced nothing but a long string of misfortune these past few years. Now they only seem to be getting worse and worse.
After narrowly escaping death several times himself, Alexander laid low in a life of fear. Then again, in an alleyway in a dark city, paranoia is as common as the cold, and these days, it’s almost uncommon to see anyone go outside underneath the pale red sky without a weapon. In Ophelia City, you always had a gun in one hand and a knife at your belt. No exceptions.
Alexander couldn’t exactly say he didn’t ask for this. He, too, used to be a dealer and a swindler—an Ophelian, who led many people into addiction and sated their desires in many ways. He led to the downfall of many, and ruined more lives than he could ever fathom. After seeing what Reene had been through, he tried to pull out of it, but the consequences of his own past quickly caught up with him. No matter where he went, Jerusalem had always followed close behind him, stalking him like a shadow.
Then his life got a little stranger.
He learned that there are many things around us that we cannot see, but that is because they are given bodies. Walking among crowds and living in faraway places, shades and specters. Pleasures, torment, peace, war… We gave them names and call them gods. But these are things called sentinels.
Alexander never wanted to have anything to do with them, or death herself at that; no matter where he went, death always seems to follow him. As if life as a former dealer from Ophelia wasn’t hard enough with having people trying to kill him. But when the day came when he is ready to accept his fate, death paid him a little visit instead.
Everything seemed normal to him, or as normal as normal could be, until he met Ravine. He was twenty-three then, six months after Reene’s murder. One incident led to another, until in one night his life turned upside-down; he realized that things were already pretty skewed in the first place. What more, death took him along for the ride.
Ravine helped Alexander escape his certain demise on several instances. He was asked to follow her, not understanding fully who or what she was at the time, or the fact that he, as a human, wasn’t even supposed to see her. All he knew was that she was the only one capable of standing up to Jerusalem, so be began to look to her as a bodyguard of some kind. Alexander learned a few things about Jerusalem over time as well. For one thing, like Ravine, Jerusalem Kavar couldn’t die. He also realized that, over the fourteen years he had known Jerusalem, the man never aged, never changed. Always the same. More and more, Alexander found himself in the company of others just like that—Ravine included—sentinels and immortals, and that he had been pawn to a greater scheme of manipulation. Jerusalem turned out to be a kindler, a person that died and exchanged their soul for a half-life. He had died at thirty-five, and will die at the age of seventy, having never aged a day. Jerusalem Kavar’s time is nearly up.
Within the next few weeks Alexander met more and more immortals and sentinels. As an Ophelian who lived a pretty nasty everyday life, very few things troubled him. Having nearly died on many occasions before, including being pushed off a cliff by Ravine and dragged through several cities by her, just about topped it all. Not only were they evading Kavar and Ophelians now, but they were also on the run from the police, the sentinels, and Alexander’s older brother, Marcus, as well (since as it turned out, Marcus had been looking for him since stories got around about Reene’s supposed disappearance).
For some reason, Jerusalem delivered Alexander his very own obituary, and a chance to start over, but only if he earned such freedom. Shortly after, Alexander killed Jerusalem Kavar again, but couldn’t find the body afterwards. Once again, Jerusalem did not truly die. He also learned that he could never go back to the way things were, for he was sought after not only for being somehow responsible for Reene’s death, but as a terrorist of Ophelia City.
They squatted in Core, Louisiana thereafter. It was too little, too late, though, when a few months later Ravine intentionally drove their car off a bridge and into a lake where, afterwards, Alexander came to in a hospital bed. He was later apprehended by his brother, Marcus, before the cops could get a hold of him first. Marcus forced Alexander into the Delial Park mental rehabilitation, where he spent the next year locked up. Much of his memories of the previous few years were a blur: Ravine, Ophelia, the obituaries… All were smudged sheets of paper in his hazy memory since the car crash. Throughout that year, Alexander was haunted by vicious nightmares and visions, some in which had nearly killed him. He started seeing dolls in the windowpane, shapes moving in mirrors and moving shadows down hallways. Maybe I am crazy, he figured—sometimes even your mind does all kinds of crazy things to you. With that he decided to stay in the Delial Park facility, where he spent the next two years of his life. Marcus had become the Head Director of the staff, and pulled some strings with the paperwork to keep his brother staying there for an even longer period of time, medicating Alexander to the point of delirium without the knowledge of any other immediate family members.
Then the Delial Park murders began.
Having spent two years in drugs and delusions and now the murders, Alexander learned he had to escape. The medication was killing him, and with the body count mysteriously rising within the asylum premises, he didn’t have much time. Alexander complied when he was told of his need to escape, and found a clever getaway by manipulating Marcus. He stole his older brother’s car, only to crash it along the interstate highway. Thankfully, though, he had help.
They escaped to Massachusetts, where Dominick lived. By then Dominick was a medical professional as well—a coroner who had been discharged from the army after surviving weeks of being a prisoner of war. The benefits had only cost him his legs. Now wheelchair-bound with synthetic limbs, Dominick greeted Alexander at his doorstep, along with his stepdaughter, Nicky. Dominick was not only going through physical therapy as being a prisoner of war, but also a recent divorce. The brothers talked, filling in the time they had lost since they were kids, leaving out some of the less flattering details.
While not having much to do with kids, Alexander quickly grew attached to the little girl, Nichole. He realized that she had no judgment or knowledge of where he came from, and her innocence he admired and envied dearly. In spite of everything, he didn’t swear off drugs completely until he learned that his brother’s ex-wife had attempted to sell the girl off to human trafficking, in an endeavor to obtain drug money. The reality of what he had done, practically selling poison to those people all the same, made him no better, he realized. He was a killer, a liar, and a cheater, gambling with the lives of others. Yet the one who showed him otherwise was his niece, who he decided he would change for.
With Dominick’s help, they managed to locate Ravine halfway across the globe, where it was discovered that her real name was Judith. Unfortunately, not long after the reunion, it was revealed that Judith/Ravine was reaching a rapid decline—like Reene she, too, was already dying. She also revealed that she had been alive for well over three thousand years, and that she welcomed it. Alexander didn’t accept this newfound reality gracefully, as to him, Ravine was indomitable and eternal. He had seen her get shot, stabbed, drowned, and in the end she always got back up. She never died because she was death itself. He couldn’t handle the idea of her leaving him, too, after all she had put him through. They fought. Eventually, the argument ended when Alexander stabbed her; the injury he left did not heal. Staggering, Ravine took out a gun, and rather than firing at Alexander she put it to her head. She offered him peace of mind. Before he could protest, she pulled the trigger.
Many times before, he had seen her hurt, killed in various, atrocious ways, but she always come back. Ravine did not get back up this time. So they burned her remains, which smoldered like a normal human corpse. Alexander grew to accept her fate as well, and resigned to quiet solitude.
For the next eight years he spent alone, cut off from most contact altogether. Most of these years he bid his time reading, studying, catching up on old media, and writing anecdotes. His time had sudden slowed down to a boring, uneventful lifestyle, until nearly a decade had gone by. These years were spent in anonymous freelance writing. He had gone to college so that he could be a journalist, and at long last he had decided to pursue that aspiration. He went under a new alias now; Sender Crowell, sending letters and stories to the Thanatos Magazine from his little hometown in Core, Louisiana. There, he spent his life in a small, calm neighborhood, writing and making his own food and wine—agriculture had, by this time, been long forgotten. At age thirty, Alexander had accomplished what most Ophelians did not have—not only exceeding their usual life expectancy, but also had a future ahead of him, too… even if it were a lonely one. No longer was he the twitchy, overly dependant young man as he had once been, but someone who could function well in the world. The times of wondering how he would go on without Reene or Ravine had past. He would live on, because now, the only one who existed in his little world of loneliness was Alexander Wolfgang. Every so often, though, Dominick and Nicky would stop by to visit him, and even take care of him when he needed taking care of.
Over the span of a few months, Alexander started experiencing some bizarre symptoms. Lightheadedness, excessive sleeping habits… When he started vomiting and coughing up blood he finally went to a doctor about it, but they saw nothing that was wrong with him physically. No internal bleeding, no apparent disease. They decided to wait it out before they came to any kind of conclusion. Some time had past, and X-rays indicated some rotting tissue of his organs. The slow decay of his body was beginning from the inside, and eventually it would work its way out. As time past, doctors informed Alexander that his body would begin early stages of rigor mortis, and yet he would still somehow be alive. He would begin to lose feelings in his nervous system, and depending on how much he strained his energy, he would basically come a walking corpse with time.
In spite of his strange and bizarre experiences, things had gone from seemingly supernatural back to natural, and then just plain agonizing; they were slow and boring now. But as things usually went, they wouldn’t stay that way for long. On top of that, after several months of treatment, going through terrible side effects from the drugs themselves, he was on the near verge of sickness and death itself. After a certain point, he asked for the doctor to stop treatment altogether. He was recommended several times to start a will and informing his brothers of his condition, which Alexander had already begin to put together.
He coped by writing more, and on the few instances he did go out, he went to town to frequent a nightclub he found that an old friend had run. Mohammed Zayn had, on several occasions, persuaded Alexander to learn music. Once he’d gotten good enough at the acoustic guitar, they tried out a few gigs at the club with a small town local band that played every Friday night. Zayn had also been the only friend that Alexander had to confide in during his stay at Delial Park; he learned that the man had been admitted due to manic depression and attempted suicides which was tearing his family apart. So in effect, he made efforts to get better. Nowadays, playing music and running the club helped keep him going.
Without treatment, he grew too sick to even visit Zayn at the club anymore. The sicker he got, the harder it was for him to walk, to function. The nightmares and delusions returned. Jerusalem paid him a final visit at the family cemetery. For the first time in forty years, Jerusalem had changed: He was much older now, worn out with gray hairs. He could barely walk, and had to support himself with crutches. He explained to Alexander what all happened, why he hated him—why he couldn’t stand looking at his face any longer. And regardless of the cold truth, Alexander sat down with him, and stayed with Jerusalem while he died by that tomb stone, withered away as the bullet wound had bled out and killed him. At thirty-five, Jerusalem had been gunned down and killed before he had been revived. He died again at seventy-one, the longest living man from Ophelia City. As he died, Alexander got up and returned home. He knew then that the Link between them both hadn’t been severed after all. Not entirely, anyway. That was how Jerusalem always managed to find him. But now whatever remained of the Link had been rendered useless, now just a benign tumor in his brain. In that remaining piece that had blacked out the memory of the night Reene died, Alexander remembered what had happened to her.
The trauma of such a memory incited another attack. The last thing he heard before nothing was his brother’s voice as he passed out in the living room of his house. He did not regain consciousness until realizing that he was in a hospital, with Dominick and Nichole watching over him. Dominick had, as always, stuck his neck out for his little brother, keeping his name anonymous by using his alias, Sender Crowell, rather than his real name. As soon as Alexander got out of that hospital, though, something strange had happened. Nothing ever really seemed right in Alexander’s world. Everything had become too quiet, too perfect, too ideal, and knowing that he had only a matter of a few months to live, it felt like going back to sleep from being awake for a long, long time. He couldn’t describe the feeling to his brother, neither could he bother to bring it up with his niece. One thing was for certain: He no longer belonged there, in his small little world, in his small little town of blood-spattered memories. Tired, weak, dying, something was pulling him away from all of that.
He was out in the vineyards that day. For once, the weather was cloudy, heralding a storm. Something inside of him had changed, as he felt death creeping in again, like the day he had first met Ravine, and the day he watched Judith put the gun to her own head and pull that trigger. It was just like the night that he had asked her to kill him, and she didn’t.
It was then that he woke up.
- Alexander Wolfgang arrives on May 13th, apparently while Starscream was attempting to make a futile attempt to take over the city, and after the evident death of Cyrus. Or so America tells him. Anomie does not make help his confusion.
- Still confused, Alexander has a rough day wandering the Western District. He runs into Anomie again. Who continues to confuse him.
- Alexander learns about Bending and the futility of currency in Nautilus. However, he finds that he is unable to Bend.
- Alexander runs into Squall Leonhart. Squall tries to heal him, only to find that Alexander appears to hold obscenely powerful magic for him to draw from (more specifically, Curaga, Ultima, and Apocalypse). However, there seems to be a side effect when Squall tries to draw from Alexander—it makes him extremely high.
- No thanks to Joshua, Alexander winds up getting stuck in some weird ass Game and becomes stuck in a different plain of reality. He forgets his family, but remembers them again when he returns back to reality.
- He has a little chat with Wendy, who’d offered him a place to stay at Optimus Prime’s place. They go for a walk.
- Alexander becomes subjected to the Timeslip reality storm, where he shifts backwards in time, becoming his younger self; age 24 and wearing a straightjacket. He’s slipped back during the two years he had been committed to the Delial Park Mental Institution.
- Much to his dismay, he finds that the entire network winds up inside of his mind; he hears and sees things in the network like in a schizophrenic delusion. This, of course, drives him even more insane. He starts screaming. Ratchet comes to help, and carries him to the medbay for Squall’s older self, aged ten years, to take care of. He gets locked up in a padded room to keep him from doing himself any further harm.
- Now sane, Alexander is released from his padded room by Ratchet. He checks himself out the next day after chatting with Ratchet, who Bent Alexander up a new coat (since his current one was all raggedy).
- For whatever reason, Starscream expresses interest in Alexander. He gets kidnapped by Blitzwing and carried off to Pineapple Island. When he comes to, he chats with Starscream and reveals that he is unable to Bend. Starscream then crushes Alexander’s already broken phone so it’s beyond repair. This is met with Alexander’s fury, who remarks on Starscream’s ridiculous color scheme and flips him the bird on the robot’s way out.
- Alexander acquires an acoustic guitar to play music. Starscream Bends Alexander a plectrum so he doesn’t wear out his fingers while playing it.
- How cute, Alexander winds up with a clone. His clone is crazy and speaks in blue text.
- Alexander dreams of Cyrus. Later he finds out from Ratchet that Cyrus had been killed by Starscream.
- Alexander first sings In My Mind, and then addresses his purpose in life: Born to die. While many seemed to misinterpret this, it actually more or less means that he has no other purpose. Except die.
- While in the middle of playing yet another song, Alexander begins coughing up blood. Thomas seems concerned, and Batman does a little breaking and entering in attempt to heal him. Unfortunately, Alexander’s illness cannot be healed, and backfires by making poor Bruce a little ill in turn.
- Isis arrives and Alexander does jack shit because he’s a useless tool. But he sure can piss off the Heart of Nautilus like no other! Considering it started a massive earthquake.
- Then Isis decides to be a bitch and take down Pineapple Island. Alexander has no other choice but to go back to the main land and wander the city.
- While the city had been plunging into chaos, Alexander found Thomas stuck as a parrot. Because of his soft spot for kids, he decides to help Thomas out by looking after him while stuck as a bird.
- All seems well when the chains have been repaired. Until Alexander is caught by Starscream, who throws the man into his cockpit. Little did he know, Alexander would begin messing around with the interior, mashing controls and even discovering a red button that dispenses hats to those within the jet. How fun and utterly pointless.
- Uh-oh, I smell a reality storm, and it spells out A.U. or something! Actually, Alexander was completely unaffected by this, as he usually is by most reality storms (that’s not strange or anything, is it?). That doesn’t help him much when he gets attacked by Dark Samus, who attempts to infect him with Phazon. At this point, though, Alexander’s illness has affected him to a point where his nervous system is shot, eliminating his response to pain. So not only does Phazon fail in making him experience the whole unbearable agony part, but it also annoys the fuck out of him. Dark Samus shoots him a couple more times, but the Phazon does not work on him. That’s strange. Seems that there is a rebellion between the Phazon and the disease Alexander has. This confuses Dark Samus and takes Alexander to the Enrichment Center for torture/experiments.
- Finally, everything returns to normal, as does Samus, who Alexander made sure she’d never tell anyone concerning what she found out about his illness, long as she knows it isn’t contagious to anyone else. That’s comfort, right?
- Starscream takes Alexander to Repo Hospital while he recovers from Dark Samus’ torture (during his wandering in the Western District, he noticed a suspicious hedge maze, but doesn’t venture inside, since that’s like, the last thing he needs right now). He falls asleep for a few days, and experiences fucked up tl;dr nightmares throughout those days.
- Alexander meets Vincent Valentine and his adorable robot kittens.
- Klonoa returns from home, after finding out that his whole world turned out to be fake. Or something. Starscream doesn’t know what to do with the kid, so he has Alexander talk to him instead. Klonoa then gives Alexander a hug, which is… awkward, because the guy has chunks of his skin ripped out of him. And Klonoa kind of notices that. Yeah.
- And then he breakdanced with America at the rave. That was fun.
- To Starscream’s displeasure, Alexander contemplates going home a few days later. To which he does, and returns over a week later with a sprained arm and a limp. Both which he refuses to have healed despite Klonoa’s suggestion… Oh, and his hair is also dark brown, not two-toned. And he also looks healthier. Sort of. Except still dying.
- He expresses his feelings by throwing his old jacket out into the beach. Yeah, for some reason this is how he mourns. Because now it’s revealed that not only is someone important to him dead, but he also cannot cry. He laughs. Yeah. He laughs when he mourns. I’m serious.
- Alexander meets Cavil, a new arrival, and Dead End. Forgive him if he’s not too thrilled.
- Alexander chats with Lelouch vi Britannia over Thanksgiving. Except he doesn’t have much to feel thankful for, but whatever. A little Stepford Smiling doesn’t hurt, does it?
- Then, suddenly, motherfucking Keyblades everywhere. Alexander fights some damn Heartless with Sora, except that the revolver he’d picked up while scavenging places doesn’t seem to work. So he settles with the stupid Keyblade. Although he’s still a pretty pathetic fighter even with that, to be honest.
- In some strange and fucked up way, Alexander concludes that the only way to feel something is to go see his brother. Except that his brother is dead. Oh, but not in the hedge maze, right? Right. Alexander goes in there. Has some fucked up hallucinations, and some strange existential conversation with an illusion of his brother, Dominick.
- Afterwards, Alexander tries to kill himself with the revolver. Except the gun doesn’t go off. Oh, right, that’s a little snafu from his own reality—he’s unable to commit suicide no matter what he does. Seriously. Still, it unsettles a lot of spectators he hadn’t intended to see him in this light. Oops. But hey, at least the Heart of Nautilus isn’t pissed at him still! The incident does spawn some pretty interesting conversations and different colored opinions. Roxas is confused. William Jesse is horrified. Rip is… Rip. Starscream is Son I Am Disappoint. Marrow scoffs, and… the list kind of goes on.
- Either way, Starscream picks Alexander up and takes him back to Pineapple Island, where he’s probably just going to lay low for awhile… until Sari offhandedly mentions something about Alexander’s history with drugs. This… actually pisses him off more than the other things that came up.
Alexander was brought up in a well off household, so he isn’t short of any civility, and he definitely isn’t incapable of showing respect to those who deserve it. However, much of those manners sometimes won’t show subsequent to the many years he had spent homeless, so he tends to switch back and forth from his conceit to his punkish street smarts. Despite being a fairly well educated man, he has a habit of speaking in broken English on purpose, given where he had spent his adolescence on the streets. He’s fairly able to adapt to conversation depending on who he’s talking to. Although when nervous or flustered, much of that emotion is hard to keep to himself and he is known for having a foul, if not colorful use of the English language. When he goes off on ranting tirades, a hint of a Southern accent becomes more obvious.
He’s very selfish, putting his own safety above the safety of others. For this reason, he’s less likely to ask or accept help, as he has a habit of steering conversations elsewhere on such matters. Also, it’s not that he doesn’t care about other people—he just doesn’t know how to help them. If a situation were too get too perilous, he would retreat without a second thought. He isn’t the type to really stand up to or for his friends in extreme dangers where he was likely to get killed, like jumping in front of a bullet for them. To Alexander, it’s every man for himself.
Regardless of that, Alexander will sometimes act in a suicidal manner, not caring what will happen to himself and going off into danger zones. In other times, he’s too frightened to die. His attitude towards death is erratic. He would rather live in fear than die in shame. For this, he could be considered the very definition of whimsical, as his obscure philosophies of the afterlife leaves him indecisive on what he really wants.
Hypocrisy is his habit. Debauchery was his tradition. These days, Alexander just wants to find a place where no one will bother him. Eight years ago, things had been different. He is strange, crazy, but sometimes pensive and moody with a short patience for the indirect. Though clever, he isn’t the type who can easily pick up hints and gets flustered when people beat about the bush. He doesn’t waste his time trying to figure out riddles and would rather cut to the chase, although he’s not completely incapable of comprehending subtexts. He expresses his frustration through bitter sarcasm and black humor.
He isn’t a fighter, and while he’s fine with the use of knives and guns, he’s not very skillful with them. On top of that, he has a track record for stealing, hot wiring cars and being a horrible, irresponsible driver. Conversely, he is a fairly fast and agile runner. His height and scrawny build helped him hide away in crammed places in the past. Judging by his stature alone, Alexander is obviously not that big of an eater. He can get by fine on one meal a day. This has made him look very gaunt in a very unflattering and very unattractive way.
Alexander is not the most mentally stable guy in the world. He’s quite the opposite. To say that he’s either bipolar or paranoid schizophrenic is not too far from the truth. He’s still somewhat suicidal, although in theory he’s too afraid to go through with it. In the past, he had tried petty (if not creative) attempts to kill himself, such as with tubocurarine, and any other kind of medical supplies stolen from hospitals. His past use of drugs could also be considered a result as to why he is so mentally unhinged.
Above all else, Alexander takes care with his words. His college days were spent studying creative narrative writing and journalism, on the side of studying physics, philosophy, and quantum mechanics. He wanted to use words to speak a kind of bleak truth, which he never really had the opportunity to explore until later in his adulthood. He is an exceptional bluffer. If panicked, he will babble a lot, talking for the sake of hearing his own voice. He’ll ramble on about quantum mechanics and things he learned in college as a coping mechanism.
When it comes to parties and raves he is a social butterfly. Get a few drinks in and he’s the most agreeable person in the world. Which also means he’s not the most responsible alcoholic; a bad habit that runs in his family, it seems. Drugs, on the other hand, is an entirely other story altogether. If he were eight years younger, Alexander would try any kind of drugs he could get his hands on, including a series of obscure and not very known brands on the black market. In his adulthood, however, he just strays from any more mind-altering substances, given his current wellbeing.
Strangely, you wouldn’t think it, but he has a unique soft spot for children. He admires them for their innocence, given how he lost his own at such a young age by no fault other than his own. Additionally, he doesn’t hold much self-pity for himself these days. In spite of his current state of health, he really doesn’t view it in a prospect of woe. The disease he has is more karmic if anything.
Used to the joke being on him, Alexander comes off as pretty shameless at times. He doesn’t have any problems with putting himself out there in embarrassing situations, and he has no qualms with his height. Any attempts at humiliating him doesn’t really seem to work, as he generally just backfires by agreeing with you anyway.
Recently, Alexander was diagnosed with an unknown illness that has started eating away at his organs. His symptoms include lightheadedness, numbness, flesh decay, excessive sleeping/lethargy, migraines, loss of consciousness, coughing and vomiting blood. Doctors told him that there currently isn’t enough time for them to come up with a diagnosis, let alone a cure, and pretty much places a limit on his lifespan to a few months at the least. Presumably the cause of this condition had been from his history of drug abuse when he was younger, and that it’s starting to take a heavy toll on his health now. So it goes.
First impressions would reveal nothing short of a homely-looking man. He looks like he could have once been attractive, or at the very least remotely so if he bothered to take care to his own health. As it is, though, he’s a very emaciated skeleton of a man. His ribs jut out from his torso in a disturbingly anorexic, highly unappealing beyond-words way. His arms and legs are like withered strings attached to his body, his shrunken skin reveal high cheekbones. (In spite of his lightweight appearance, however, he can hold his alcohol intake pretty well.)
For this, he wears absolutely no article of clothing that leaves his body uncovered, save for his hands and face. He wears turtlenecks, jackets, and long-legged jeans to promise that, with regular running shoes or sneakers. This would be because of his body that had been utterly disfigured during the Ophelian Riots. Scars and scratches cover his body, with chunks of meat taken out of him. Some muscle tissue is bore open. Moreover, he has a metal plate covering his right ribcage that had been nearly ripped apart entirely. The plate protects the ribcage that would otherwise be exposed without it. An outdated example of Alexander’s scars and body build can be found here.
Another metal plate covers the left side of his forehead. To anyone else it looks like a blondish-brown patch, but if the bangs were pulled back, the edge of the plate covering his forehead would be seen. This plate is the only thing protecting his brain since an incident when he was a kid. Because the hair covering the plate is fake, it did not change color. The blondish-brown bit of hair was just the color that didn’t change from when he was a kid, as the hair color darkened as he got older. Additionally, one other notable trait would be Alexander’s height: He’s a very short man, just barely 5’3 tall.
While German with a clearly German name, Alexander inherited more of his mother’s Irish traits, with his dark, reddish hair and green eyes. Dark rings encircle them, along with the fact that his skin has a very dry, very dead feel to it. Some flakes of dead skin peel off his face. Although whether or not if this has something to do with his history of drug abuse, malnutrition, the disease that’s claiming his life, or all of the above is a debatable matter.
In terms of powers of any kind, Alexander is just a normal guy. His family has been known to have a particular curse, but that’s not a fortunate trait by any means. Moreover he’s an ordinary guy who tends to get caught up in extraordinary situations throughout his life.
That aside, he’s an unusually intelligent man, with much knowledge in the field of twentieth century pop culture (literature, film, music in particular), as well as physics, quantum mechanics, and philosophy. Since he majored in journalism, he considers himself a writer.
While not spectacular at it, Alexander also plays the guitar.
He’s an exceptionally fast runner. His fighting method is more of a barroom brawl style; very sloppy and with no real patterns to his actions. One thing about when he does fight, is that he switches, like becoming an entirely other person, almost animalistic. Survival instinct kicks in, and he’ll fight to the death if he has to, using the metal plate in his head for an effective headbutt if needs be.
Back at home, he was considered a terrorist. That said, he’s got an expertise in explosives.
Even while in Nautilus, Alexander does not have any powers. For the most part, he has difficulty being able to Bend, not because of his lack of powers or the disease that he suffers, but because he literally lacks any strength of will at this point to Bend anything. Only unless he finds his own strength of will, which would take a great deal out of him, Alexander is unable to Bend objects in any form. That said, he mostly has to rely on others to do it for him. The only way Alexander will be able to Bend is when he is the depended and no longer the depending.
- During the Timeslip reality storm, Alexander had the entire network inside of his own head. All public text, voice, and video posts were being broadcasted inside of Alexander’s own head. Because he had still been a patient of Delial Park Facility at the time, this did not accommodate his insanity in the last.
- In his moment of insanity, Alexander had only ever been able to Bend a song out of thin air. His mother’s song, no less.
More on character relationships here.
- a sack of meat
- a jug of tuscan whole milk
- a birthday card that reads “LOOKING FORWARD TO IT?”
- The Hedge Maze
A Death In The Limelight
All Musicals Are Adaptations: Musicals? What musicals? He just likes to sing like there is one.
Black Comedy: Alexander takes way too many things lightly when he shouldn't. Suicide, in particular.
Body Horror: His body is horribly mutilated.
Breakout Character: Was intended to die in the second chapter. Wound up becoming a main character instead.
Break The Cutie: Sari. /sob
Cannot Spit It Out: The fact that Alexander tended to dance about the subject of his own history for the longest time should say enough.
Dark Is Not Evil
Deal With The Devil: Jerusalem.
Environmental Symbolism and Living Labyrinth: The Hedge Maze.
He Who Must Not Be Seen: Them.
High Octane Nightmare Fuel
I Have Many Names: Alexander Wolfgang, Ravencrow, Sender Crowell… Don't even get me started on Ravine, actually.
Kill 'Em All: …the fact that he was a terrorist who exacted mindless violence should say enough.
Kill It With Fire: Because explosions are fucking awesome.
Mood Swinger: Alexander does this a lot.
More Than Mind Control: Alexander's dead girlfriend, Reene.
Near Death Experience: i.e. Alexander was considered officially dead for several minutes after getting caught up in an angry riot.
Nightmare Dreams: Just about every dream Alexander has ever.
Non Action Guy
Painting The Fourth Wall: Something Ravine does a lot, although it tends to go way over Alexander's head.
Rape As Backstory: Reene and Jerusalem.
Ravens And Crows: Haha, Ravencrow.
So You Want To Live Forever: Alexander was initially driven to survive due to his crippling fear of death and nonexistence.
Stockholm Syndrome: This applies to just about everyone ever that Alexander has had relations with. Jerusalem, Ravine… More notably Starscream, while in Nautilus.
The Grim Reaper: Ravine and Death.
The Older Immortal: Them again.
The Schizophrenia Conspiracy: It's all in his head.
Hearing Voices: See above.
The Walls Have Eyes
Who Wants To Live Forever: Inevitably, he is unable to die.
Crowning Moment Of Awesome: …he punched through a building that Starscream had thrown on top of him. 8|