[CLOSED] When Tower Angels Fall | Dystopian Podcast Series
RufusJuice for Fionn
Early-mid 30s. Begrudging. Complex. Emotional.
A man whose heart and mind are all over the place, but who will never ask for help. Once a respected enforcer of an underground crime ring, life without fire or substances has left him neurotic in how powerless he’s become. Seemingly existing at this point to lock heads with Ezra, he’s the kind who only lets his guard down when he absolutely can’t bear it anymore.
Voice type: any pitch, a voice that once was smooth and charming but now has a bite. He’s lived one wild life, and it hasn’t always been kind.
An Irish accent is compulsory; he originally hails from Drogheda, but the exact town’s dialect is not mandatory.
[incendiary, suspicious, mocking]
We don’t know anything about them. Could be one o’ them for all we know! Two years without a single boat try and find us, and suddenly two o’ the cleanest heads I ever seen show up in hers? Nah, nah, I don’t trust a lick of this shit…
[hushed, angry, intimidating; he has the target pushed against a wall]
You’re a lost little girl, chasin’ all the way through Hell for a man who does not want you. (Beat) Stop wading where you don’t belong, and go back to a bed you won’t get lost in, because I’m not the one who’ll be hurting you if you get in too far…
[soft, distant, heartfelt, sad]
Y’know, I… this one time I dreamt I was this tiny bird, right? Maybe, like, just before it all. Just after… This – this little black and white bird in their hand. And I felt so happy. Like I could only feel happiness when I was a bird…
[unhinged, emotional, faint; as if talking to himself, or a ghost…]
Gonna make it right. I’ll see you... I’ll see you... I promise... (his voice breaks) I’m scared... I don’t wanna die…!
