Conan Bigback
Information
Name	Taaxemeoo'e | Thursday Bigback
Gender	Trans Man
Pronouns	He/Him (she/her for friends)
Age	20
Birthday	May 17, 2002
Sexuality	Unlabeled arospec, Bisexual.
Ethnicity	Northern Cheyenne + Irish
Occupation	Varies by story; usually at his mother's auto shop, or a local store.
Residence	Again, varies heavily by story. Usually in one of several adjacent apartments, since the DD Club tends to cluster in the same hotels and apartment buildings.

Personality

Conan is a sullen, quiet young man, with a coolheaded, aloof personality- which can veer into a sort of gloomy, hostile attitude. This is not out of genuine disdain, though- he's just not the friendliest person. First impressions are not Conan's strong suit; he tends to scare people off accidentally- or purposefully, it depends on the day- and most don't come back. Conan doesn't hate people, per se- more than anything, he's just a little sick of them.

But, once you get past his cool, controlled exterior- by gentleness or by force- Conan is a deeply passionate person. He holds his loved ones close, and can be quite gentle with those he cares about. Still, when provoked, he doesn't pull punches; he has a lot of bottled-up feelings- good and bad- and he tends to take out the bad on the asshole of the day harassing his coworkers, or the guy shoving him around in class, or that guy who keeps calling the HOA because their lawn is a little too long. Still, he's not a bad person; no, far from it. He's reserved out of habit, rather than nature; he wasn't around many kids his age when he was younger, and that isolation rubbed off on him. Conan values close relationships- platonic, romantic, or otherwise- he just... really isn't that good at getting to that point.

Appearance

Conan is a tall, well-built young man; he stands at around 6'0, and is slightly heavyset, with broad shoulders, strong arms, and a lumberjack's build; he carries a good amount of both fat and muscle. His skin is light, elk-hide brown, but tends to look a little dead and washed-out due to his schedule and fervent avoidance of sunlight otherwise. He has high cheekbones and a full, heart-shaped face with flushed, rosy cheeks. He wears his hair very long- he's only ever trimmed the ends for upkeep reasons- and usually wears it down; with the exception of when he's working, in which case he ties it back in a ponytail. He has deep-set, very dark brown eyes- nearly black, in certain lighting- and long, dark eyelashes to frame them. He doesn't sleep often- too much to do, he insists- and, in turn, sports some deep purple eyebags that get mistaken for bruises every now and then. He has a few little scars and beauty marks smattered around, and his teeth are slightly crooked and a bit too big for his mouth; something he's always been a little insecure about. His mouth itself has always looked a bit big on his face, at least to him; but still, his lips are full and soft- never chapped, since they drove through the desert and he learned to always carry chapstick.

Conan participates in goth subculture- and a little punk, due to his parents' influence- specifically veering towards Rivethead and Goth Metal, though he doesn't strictly label that. Of course, this heavily affects his appearance; he rarely wears a color besides black- and if he does, it's dark and desaturated- and is often seen in leather, mesh, denim, or all three. He's rarely seen in short sleeves outside of work, and never leaves the house without a jacket; even if he'll just carry it the whole time. He's never, ever seen without his boots; work or platforms, plain or decorated, Conan hasn't worn a pair of sneakers since he was ten. Generally, these are either functional- plain black steel-toed boots, the type he wears for work- or fashionable; some sort of platform with chains, buckles, the whole nine yards. Generally, though, he's a bit more functional and unadorned than you'd expect; worn-but-not-falling-apart jeans or trousers that fit him somewhat well, some kind of machine-washable shirt and one of his jackets- he has a few he rotates through, so the leather has time to breathe- is standard fare for him. Still, though, he finds the time to dress up a little. Some sort of dark eyeliner or shadow- usually slept-in, at some point- stud earrings in slightly differing shades of black, and maybe a bracelet or necklace are his go-tos. Overall, Conan doesn't dress too outlandishly, all things considered; if it takes him more than ten minutes to get ready in the morning, he's not interested.

Relationships

Sasha Macbride: Father

Conan is very close to both of his parents; his father is no exception. While Conan and Sasha don't talk quite as often as he does with his mother, this isn't out of disdain or coldness; it's just that neither of them are very chatty. While Sasha's absence in some of Conan's early life- he was in prison from when thursday was 2-6 years old, and again for nearly a year when he was 11- created a small divide between them, Sasha has worked hard to close this gap; and it's been very effective. While there are still some unanswered questions and occasional frostiness between the two, Conan would trust his father with anything in the world, and rightfully so- Sasha has done right by him every chance he's had.

Molly Bigback: Mother

As close as Conan is with his father, he communicates with his mother in a way he can't recreate elsewhere. He can be completely emotionally raw with her and entrust her with emotions he can't show to anyone else; she carries a certain tact that Sasha just doesn't, which makes her far easier to talk to. Conan is very loyal to his mother; she took care of him through harrowing circumstances, made some difficult decisions to give him a more steady, stable life, and generally sacrificed more than he can wrap his head around to make sure he grew up alright. Of course, she made some mistakes- she made the right choice in the end, but it was a few years too late- but Conan has made peace with it all; they've had many honest, clear talks about it all, and have thoroughly made up.

Wayne Falk: Close Friend

Wayne is undoubtedly Conan's oldest and closest friend; they met when Conan first settled down- around the age of 13- and are now about as close as it gets. Conan has never been the type to have many friends, and those he does are more associates than anything, but Wayne is different- with him, Conan can peel away all those thick layers of lacquer that have protected him over the years, and show him who he really is in his entiriety. Conan shares a bond with Wayne that he just doesn't have with anyone else; his parents are wonderful, but there will always be some things they just don't understand- and he doesn't have any friends from when he was really young left, anyway. Wayne grew with Conan, they watched each other turn into the people they are today. And something grew along with that, too; a sort of particular warmth that neither of them will acknowledge, but one that lingers regardless.

Will Nguyen: Close Friend

Though Will was not physically present for most of the time him and Conan have been friends, they've known each other for ages; longer than Conan's known Wayne, though they spoke less often. They met on a stop in New York, shortly before the DD Club settled in Wisconsin, hit it off in the brief time they knew each other; all it took was one day at the arcade to start everything. They exchanged phone numbers, and began to call regularly- once a week, back then- then every day once they figured out social media. They didn't see each other in person again for years- Thursday visited his aunt in New York once every couple years, but that was it- though this didn't put a damper on their relationship. They're close, beyond close; if anything, that physical distance made Conan more comfortable saying what he couldn't say to people who he'd have to see every day. There's a certain raw, unfiltered honesty between these two, that they don't have elsewhere.

Backstory

raised by a village- a village that consists of mostly ex-cons, those who didn't get caught, and those running from getting caught- Conan had a very, very unusual upbringing. in order to not get anyone killed or arrested, the Dearly Departed- the gang, his family, his loved ones- had to keep moving. town to town, house to house, they never stayed in one place; and Conan grew around that lifestyle. his family did all they could to make it easy for him; they made whatever motel they were in as homey as they could, homeschooled him, gave him something concrete to rely on; in turn, Conan developed a very close, strong bond with his parents, and the rest of the gang was- and still is- family to him.

Still, he found little pieces of consistency beyond his loved ones; Mortal Kombat was at every arcade, so he got very good at it; he prides himself on holding high scores in 7 states. He got good at entertaining himself, let the loneliness seep into him and turn into a coating, a protective varnish. he was fed on solitude, raised to be cold and not get attached; he always had to leave anyway. But, by the time thursday got a little older, his parents realized being so alone growing up had taken a toll on him. He didn't speak much- a habit he never kicked- and was starting to get... prickly. He needed to get out more.

So, eventually, the gang found a town as far away from civilization as they could- there were still warrants out for a few of them, so they had to lay low- and settled. Conan, 13 and poorly socialized, did not take well to it; he isolated himself further, got himself into trouble, building up even more of a shell, but now with a reputation for a short temper and a mean left hook. people avoided him more than ever, and Conan reveled in that isolation; it was what he was used to, it was where he felt best- or so he thought. That anger bubbled under the surface, years and years of frustration with no outlet, and it ate at him. He grew miserable, and his parents grew worried; They still are, somewhat- Conan has a long way to go before he gets truly well-adjusted- but he's learned to manage that temper a bit better, at least.

Present Day

Today, Conan still lives with his parents and the gang where they settled down- they still ride around every now and then, but they finally got themselves a solid place to hide out- and can be found just about anywhere across the country; though his real home, the place that holds his heart, is buried in rural Wisconsin- about 50 miles out from Madison, in the auto shop his mother took over. He lays low and revels in the aimlessness he feels; he still hasn't decided whether this pain in his chest is joy or choking, whether he's happy staying where he is, with his family, or whether he wants to do something more with his life. For now, he sits back and thinks about it, like his counselor told him to; he holds a steady job, and helps out at the auto shop: in his free time, he cares for his motorcycles- his prized possessions, one a gift from his father; the very first thing he ever drove, and the only way he gets anywhere to this day- and appreciating music. He doesn't play- he'd get sick of it, not to mention his miserable stage fright- but he's a well-decorated metalhead, and has been absorbed in the community since he was little; he writes Wayne and Kame's lyrics for them, but that's about it.

Trivia

Conan has spent long stints of time with other family members- usually members of the gang- in lieu of his parents before; usually for his own safety, but occasionally just for fun.

In AUs where Conan lives in New York (au. there is one) he is staying with his godmother, Barbara; "Aunt Barb" to him. His parents got into a little trouble with the law, and they wanted him to explore his college options in a bigger state, anyway: They still keep in touch and call on the regular- even visiting, whenever they can- but he still misses them like hell. For now, he works at the auto shop 2 blocks down, and tries to ignore the university pamphlets his aunt leaves on the table when she goes to get the mail.

Conan's primary motorcycle- one of two- is a Suzuki GSX-R750 that has been heavily customized; a gift from his father that he got when he learned to drive. His other bike is a black cherry chrome Victory Vision; a customer in his mother's auto shop brought it in for a fresh paint job before he tried to sell it, and Thursday bought it himself. It's more of a special-occasion bike than anything, but Conan still loves it dearly- it's the first bike he's ever bought himself.

While Conan rarely drives anything with doors, he's still quite knowledgable about cars due to his time working in Molly's auto shop, and her influence in general; this attributed to his somewhat high level of respect in the shop he works at, despite his age.

Conan is Autistic; this was suspected by his counselor when he was younger, but they skipped town before they could pursue a diagnosis.