Liam Anderson's Questionnaire

My home is a multi story penthouse that I share with my butler. Once I stopped living poor and middle class, I decided to live to the extent of my wealth. I saw no point in holding my lifestyle back. There’s no charity I don’t already donate to, there’s no old lady I don’t help across the street. It’s not a disservice to those people to live lavishly myself. It’s not like I need it to be satisfied, it’s just a choice of possession. My penthouse is posted up in Hell’s Kitchen New York. I chose this place because it’s a place that can be both humble and arrogant, where a balance can be maintained.

I get money from contracts and my vault of money. I have a vault of money hidden underneath New York through a sewer. It was built by people I contracted and asked to sign an NDA. It has specific high level (difficulty and durability) locks that require knowledge of a code as well as circuits scattered around New York that have to be powered down to open. He spends money on basic necessities that his Butler usually buys for him, and brings to him. He also spends money on materials for clothes and gear. He also gives money to people who don’t have it. He likes comic books, so he buys them to collect them and read them later.

Liam is being pulled by an inward desire to feel complete. He projects his philosophy onto others, they intrinsically have value because they’re alive despite what they add to the planet or lives of themselves and others. But he himself doesn’t understand that value, nor does he feel it is present within him. It feels a bit hollow, just enough to be in the back of his mind day to day. He doesn’t think about it directly very often. He’s doing what he can to discover that value. When he moves to an objective, this is fueling him. When he has an objective, the objective fuels him. It fills him in like filling in a cavity. ANOTHER WORLD PREMIERE (PREMIERE).

On a rainy and windy ass night, almost a year ago (11 and a half months), Liam stood on the roof of his several story home. It was nearly 2 in the morning, and he was restless. He had eaten a bowl of fruit while droning into the night as a snack to make him sleepy. He stood now, awake but settled, hands on the wet rails. He was growing apathetic to the monotony of daily routine. Routine seemed to be all he spent his time with. The idea had made its home in his head: “What would it take to break free of it?” Before long he found himself stepping over the railing, and onto the edge of his roof. His robe draping over the rail’s pike, inviting the cool breeze to wrap around his back. His bare feet touching the concrete, cold, but still not enough to shake him. His night robe blew wildly with his hair in the quickening winds of the dark air, dampening from the outside shower. He stared, hoping a vibrant, invigorating color would return to his vision, but it remained bleak as the distance between him and the street. Bleak, as the struggle to stand straight against the powerful winds. Bleak, as his footing was thrown over the edge. But not quite panicked yet, as Liam reached assuredly for the railing to catch his fall. A railing not so generous to him, sliding out of his grip the moment security held firm within him. It felt as if the rain dropped through his chest, puncturing the heart within it. He was alone, and he would die alone. A vacant urban mansion standing at the foot of his corpse. A hollow reminder that he not only died alone, but meaningless. An angel reached out from behind his back to save him. He felt time slow, and his apathy dissolve. The embers of desire burst aflame in an instant. The angel pulled back his shoulders, as his robe became stuck on the pike of the rails. “I was never meant to be whole.” A self realization he was convinced was the truth. But an infantile hope pushed back. “But what if I was?” So simple it sounded like a lie. But in the wake of these feelings, it freed him from his dwelling just enough to believe it. To believe there was more than this for him. That is why he lives. That is why he’ll continue to push, until the day that hope can finally claim what it’s fighting for.

His Butler. He didn’t make any friends (I don’t feel like making any tbh). There was a woman he respected and admired. What I’ll give you to go off of is that she was an earnest and righteous person. She believed that a stone should always be unturned if its weight is crushing the shoulders of others, so-to-speak. She was a lawyer, and up until 2 years ago (or any important day for the lore of the dnd -wink- -wink-) she would always find time to visit or eat with Liam. Liam saw something in her that he longed for. The justice she cared so much about, he could tell that it webbed together her very being, so much so that without it she would have to be hollow (Just like he feels). She disappeared one day, no trace of her. He would always hear about people seeing her in passing, but was never able to catch her. He wondered where she had gone. That only made his spiral worse. Her name was Samantha Sterling.

Childhood was meh. Parents set him up to have big money, he went to college, he was a fencing prodigy, who took an interest in gymnastics as well at a young age. His parents were mellow and bland people who had good jobs and were straight laced for the most part. Liam did not always fit in, but he tried to get to know people who he thought might be interesting. Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah.

I don’t think Liam has ever truly been in love, but he has deeply admired people before. There’s also deep envy that gets intertwined in his admiration that makes it feel like love. Samantha was the cleanest example of him almsot being in love. He didn’t so much envy her as he did respect her. He simply admired her passion, and the happiness it gave her made him happy as well. He saw what he didn’t have, what he felt like he couldn’t have, but savored it within her. He knew what she had was special and he was happy for her. What kept it from being love was his (then) mild obsession with that emptiness he felt. If he had just been able to focus on what was in front of him, they could have loved one another. 

His worst fear above all is dying before he can find his inner value. It’s all his life is worth now. His next biggest fear is someone’s passion dying slowly or instantly. It stirs despair within him. It has to be something with genuine emotion behind it, not just some empty compulsion or crazed fanatic. If it’s the former, it reminds him of his own “passion”, thus it doesn’t really scare him because he knows and understand it well. He’s lived with it for a while now. Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah

His most prized possession is probably a pocket watch his butler gave him with a picture of them both. His other most prized possession is a double cherry stem from a dinner with Samantha. It had one cherry but it was double stemmed. Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah

His butler might be dead. Samantha might be dead or a contractor. Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah

The fit. Nasty. The hair. Pomade. The teeth? Brushed. He just goes straight into the day. He always opens the pocket watch and looks at the picture. The cherry stem was thrown in his vault the day Samantha disappeared. Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah