Reaper Charlie is a unique and interesting character. He enjoys the occasional long walk on the beach, and loves the feeling of sand between his toes. He likes toffee, and prefers hot chocolate to tea. His best friend was a policeman (though he is not one any longer). Reaper Charlie knows most weapons as thoroughly as he knows the inside of his own eyelids or the back of his hand! As a matter of fact, he feels perfectly at home cutting throats in the desert! (due to umpteen tours of duty in the stinkhole of Urzkybekistan). When people see him, they generally think nothing special, only 'Wow, that guy has a strange beard.' or something similar. Which is not, in fact, incorrect. Charlie's facial hair is a mollifying sight to behold. A soul patch crafted painstakingly in the mirror every morning to resemble an image of his arch-rival, Quimby Mugatufagatala. The amount of toast and beer that Reaper Charlie ingests every morning pales in comparison to the amount of hard candy and energy drinks that flow or dribble down his throat on a daily and/or nightly basis. Quirky though it may seem, Charlie has also acquired somewhat of a fetish for corduroy couch covers, and rubs his cheeks against them at every possible opportunity. His demeanor is a bit of a cross between Jerry Falwell on Halloween, and an upset bovine during the milking process. But that's only when he's not upset. When he is angry, the only words ever used to describe such a phenomenon were recorded as 'beautiful and awe-inspiring mushroom of destruction,' coined as a phrase by none other than Quimby Mugatufagatala. Reaper Charlie's relationship with his family is odd, being that he talks to them on a regular basis, but rarely in English, their native (and in some cases only) tongue. He prefers to mix in Svetlandish, Turzbanian, and a healthy smattering of 1337speak, the latter which most of his family is beginning to speak as a second language anyway, due to his insistence. Reaper Charlie's love life is somewhat veiled due to the fact that he's only ever had one serious relationship that went anywhere, and married her after only three weeks, and whisked her off to a castle somewhere. Reaper Charlie's own moniker came about as the result of a rather lucky happenstance involving violent worms, the perils of the imagination, and Armageddon. Since such times are long in the past, he rarely retreads them except in the comfort of his own easy chair, while sipping his signature Roy Rogers and watching thrashball, in the comfort of his penthouse suite on the 43rd floor of a high rise, located downtown in what shall remain an unknown major city in the United States. What can be mentioned, however, is that Reaper Charlie has in fact traveled through no less than one wormhole, and has traversed time at least twice (once coming, once going). The result of these expeditions is unknown, but the effect they've taken on the lad is uncharacteristically severe. Before the first of these, he was a smart young fair-haired lad in Auckland, waiting for his father to pick him up from the trolley station, and after the last, he is now an American with dark eyebrows, a scar on his face, and a gruff intonation. He often whistles trite melodies that meander along different measures, sometimes simultaneously. What could be asserted about the stolid Reaper Charlie is that he is a product of the factors in his life, yet that very same view has been challenged time and again by the best friends and/or arch enemies that know him the best. 'Desolate' is a word that has been used to describe him, also 'depraved' and 'aphotic,' but perhaps the most accurate description is given by himself. He loves the opera, but despises visiting because of the crowds, and rarely attends. Reaper Charlie has been known to blow bubbles with chewing gum, and when in public has been known also to pop said bubbles directly into the hair of bookish-looking, birds-nest-haired women and girls, and laughing at their subsequent dismay. Tempers often flare at his actions, but Reaper Charlie soon reduces arguments to naught but pleasant small-talk, with his soothing whispers and empty promises of sunshine and pastries. Centuries ago, men carved out of stone images of their own likeness in Anglicized form; Reaper Charlie carves in the same fashion, but in a different medium. He molds the mind subtly, suggesting thought and action. Fickle hearts are easy prey for his wiles, but he enjoys the challenge presented by individuals stout of mind. Reaper Charlie used to ride bicycles across the city streets, but recently switched to a skateboard due to the public image of skateboarders being a tad edgier, and to nudge the line a little further, even scuffed his shoes and frayed the bottoms of his trousers somewhat. Reaper Charlie's favorite color is red, but you could not tell by his choice of clothing or sportwear. Everything he owns is of a negative hue. Colors pervade daily life, but Reaper Charlie saves color for his mind, at least according to interviews. He has been on television thrice, but has waved to a family member while on television only once. Reaper Charlie has been known to lay down on the street in the middle of a busy intersection, to relieve stress, as it were. He possesses no less than four shoes, and reportedly once owned a pair of white tiger slippers. Each forest he enters, he marvels at the beauty of the trees, and the fragility of the flowers, and how delicate the balance of nature is. In stark contrast, he often views the world (as civilized by man) to be a mockery of organization, perfection, or any of the other lofty traits it claims to possess. Not much can be said about the intents of Reaper Charlie, but then again, not much can be said about those whom about which not much is known.

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