Application

[edgar_sawtelle]

The Player
Name/nickname: Kelly
Age: 27
Pronouns: female
Contact:  DM

edgar_sawtelle or stringertheory, email xqqmoi@gmail.com
Experience: no RP experience, but a few years writing fanfic
Currently played characters: 0

The Character
DW account: edgar_sawtelle
Name: Edgar Sawtelle
Alias: Edgar
Age/Birthdate: 14/May 13, 1958
Species: human
Canon: The Story of Edgar Sawtelle, by David Wroblewski
Canon point: Not too long after Edgar's mother falls sick and is confined to bed, when Edgar takes over caring for the dogs they breed, raise, and train.
Played By: Josh Hutcherson

Icon:
http://www.dreamwidth.org/userpic/5801769/1978884

Abilities:
Edgar was born mute and communicates via a sign language that evolved over time from something standardized into his own special and singular kind. This means that, unless he teaches them, even people who know "regular" sign language are not be able to understand him. Thankfully, he is very good at teaching his language to others.

When Edgar comes through the rift, this communication ability is shifted somewhat. He won't realize it at first, but whenever he touches someone, he is now able to communicate telepathically with them. He can't do it continuously for long periods of time, but the ability has the added benefit of allowing him to communicate even with people who speak another language.

When he communicates with people telepathically, their mental voices usually sound a little muffled and distant, as if they are talking to him from across the room. That can change, though, depending on the types of thoughts they are having and Edgar's emotions at the time, either of which can affect the mental voice and Edgar's perception of it. Whenever someone speaks while also communicating with Edgar telepathically, it creates an echo for him, a sort of feedback. Edgar can also tell when someone is thinking one thing and saying the other, since he'll be able to hear both.

For others, Edgar's voice varies depending on the person hearing it. For the most part, when they first hear his mental voice, he tends to sound like someone they miss, someone whose voice they would most want to hear, someone the rift has separated them from. The more he communicates with them, the more his voice coalesces into an amalgamation of voices they know. Based on how they feel, his voice can sound exactly like a certain person they know, but for the most part it's a combination. Based on how Edgar feels, his voice can sound like that of a friend or a foe, from a best friend if he is feeling caring to the person's worst nightmare if he is angry.

More than the average person, Edgar is predisposed to seeing ghosts. While it doesn't happen very often, he will sometimes be able to see spirits no one else sees.

Edgar has a special connection with dogs, and comes through the rift with his dog, Almondine.

Appearance:
Edgar has dark brown hair and brown eyes. He is of average height for his age and slightly on the skinny side, though strong from his work with the family dogs. Since he tends to spend the majority of his time outside or working with the dogs, his general attire consists of jeans, shirt, and sneakers or boots.

Personality:
A voracious reader and a generally inquisitive person, Edgar is very bright for his age. There's a lot more going on behind his eyes than one might see. He's observant, and will often notice things others do not. He gets on well with others for the most part and is friendly enough, but doesn't necessarily go out of his way to seek company or make friends. This means he can sometimes come off as distant or aloof, even disdainful, but the truth is that he's just comfortable with his own company. He loves animals though, particularly dogs, and they him. He understands them better than most anyone, and can communicate with them in a way most people cannot.

Edgar is responsible, sometimes to a fault, willing to take on more than he can handle to help others if he feels it necessary, and is very independent. He doesn't give his trust easily, but is loyal to those he does trust. Once he makes a promise, he keeps it. He can be stubborn, even to the point of defiance or subversion, and when he sets his mind to something, there's no stopping him, however long it takes him to reach his goal. He also has a bit of a temper and can lose his patience quickly with humans (where he tends to be able to keep it with dogs).

Due to recent events in his life, he is also dealing with grief, anger, and worry. His chief concerns are his mother, who at the time is ill, and the kennel which, due to said illness, has fallen to Edgar's keeping while his mother recovers.

History:
Edgar is an only child, born and raised on a farm outside a small town in Wisconsin. His parents bred, raised, and trained dogs, named “Sawtelle dogs” by Edgar's grandfather, who started the business. Edgar was born mute, though the doctors never could figure out why, and he learned to communicate via sign language from a very early age. Hungry for words, for communication, he quickly outpaced his studies and began to adapt the language and create his own signs. As a result, his language became a unique variant that practitioners of standard sign language would not be able to understand.

As long as he could remember, Edgar had been involved in the family business. His father handled the breeding, following complex and detailed records carefully added to with each litter. His mother trained all the dogs, while Edgar handled grooming and naming. His constant companion was Almondine, a Sawtelle dog who, as a puppy, became newborn Edgar's shadow, following him around and acting both as friend and protector. Since Edgar could not cry, Almondine also acted like the canary in the mine, notifying Edgar's parents when he was hurt or otherwise needed attention, since he could not do so himself.

Almondine is highly intelligent, like all Sawtelle dogs, and very well behaved. She and Edgar have a particularly deep bond and understanding, and she comes through the rift with him.

A few months before Edgar disappeared through the rift, his father died suddenly. Edgar was alone with him at the time, and his inability to call for help – even though he tried – weighed on him ever since, as did the memory of his father's dying moments. Even more recently his mother, worn down by his father's death and taking care of the kennel with only Edgar to help, fell ill with pneumonia. The doctor confined her to bedrest and Edgar took over the kennel.

Afraid of getting sick (which would be extra dangerous for him given his condition), he took Almondine out to the kennel barn, laid out some hay bales for a bed, and fell asleep, worried about his mother and the kennel, yet excited about the prospect of proving himself capable of handling the family business on his own...

Writing Sample:
Lying there in the semidark, Edgar stares at the solitary lit lightbulb at the far end of the kennel and thinks about being alone. Hay in the bales that comprises his makeshift bed pokes at his back through the thin material of his shirt, but the sensation doesn't bother him. It makes him feel more aware, makes the situation seem more real. Bending his knees, he puts his feet flat on the bale and digs his toes into the stiff hay. Almondine shifts beside him, and he runs a hand down her back until she goes still again.

 

He listens to the sounds of the night, sounds of the barn settling around him and of the creatures outside scuttling around its borders like foreign territory they dare not trespass. The sounds normally soothe him, but his mind is too busy working over all the changes the day has brought to let them lull him to sleep. Just across the yard and seemingly a thousand miles away, his mother sleeps restlessly, the medicines they picked up earlier hopefully running their course. Edgar can't remember the last time they've been apart; certainly not since his father died. In the barn, dogs rustling in the darkness, he is truly alone for the first time in months. The thought is like a surge of fresh air after being trapped under a blanket.

He is alone, and it feels good. He is going to take care of things, all by himself, and that feels good, too. He won't be reliant on anyone, and that feels best of all.

He can do it. He can take care of the kennel and the dogs and his mother and everything will be just fine. A grim determination fills him, along with something like hope, or maybe peace.

Edgar closes his eyes and watches lights dance across his eyelids. Somewhere in the dark to his left, one of the dogs whimpers and another answers it with a short, puppy-like howl.

/Quiet,/ he signs in their direction. /Go to sleep./

The whimpering stops. Almondine noses his open palm, and Edgar lets his hand run over her head and shoulders before burying it in the fluff on her chest. She nestles into his side once more and with a final sigh lays her head against his leg.

Edgar falls asleep with the smell of hay and dogs surrounding him, the buoy of possibility lifting his spirits higher than they have been in a long while.

When he wakes, the first thing he notices is that Almondine is not beside him. More than the lack of warmth or the weight of her body, her absence, the sensation it produced, is a subconscious realization before he even opens his eyes. The sun blinding him from directly overhead is his second observation.

/Almondine,/ he signs. He claps his other hand to his thigh without sitting up, then uses it to cover his eyes against the sun as he signs again. /Almondine, come here./

Then the fact that there is sun on his face finally makes its way into his groggy mind and he sits bolt upright. There is no way sun could be hitting him in the face. He is in the barn, by the kennels. Kennels he can no longer smell. Somewhat trepidatious about what he might find, Edgar drops his hand and glances around in utter bewilderment. He is lying in browning grass amid a stand of trees. The sky above him is overcast, the thin clouds reminiscent of early winter. But it's summer, he thinks. The chill in the air belies the thought and he pulls his legs to his chest, tucking his bare feet as close to his body as he can.

Glancing around at his unfamiliar surroundings, he spots Almondine slipping through the trees.

/Where were you?/ he signs.

Almondine watches him with serious eyes, and Edgar feels his heart pound once, heavily, against his ribcage. When she lies down nearly on top of his feet, Edgar lets her.

It's cold and he has no idea where he is. Or how far he is going to have to walk.