peep

formerly known as sid, but changed his name because they all kept calling him sodding sid. lobster thing, polkadot body and bow tie wearer. a man of few words. his eyes and mouth and nose are hallow , when there’s a small breeze you’ll hear the sound of wind over empty glass bottles. its like his shell or something . his shell body is a shiny black colour, found somewhere at the centre of underneath that crinkly-paper-like dressing gown drapes. his claws do not have spikes but instead have circle nubs, worn down from writing on walls by using his black claws the way you would use charcoal.* he carries around a black briefcase, and also wears a black bowler hat

has a high pitched weak masculine voice 

he looks like a proper gentleman but people who see him around or have interracted with him for whatever reason seem to have wildly varying opinions of him. he tends not to really pick sides or care who he talks to, and it's hard to know if he has any semblence of a moral compass or not. he acts like he exists in some higher plane above everyone else, he has a silent jester's privelage. despite seemingly not caring about who he talks to, he doesn't tend to help any party anyway. he likes to think he doesn’t really affect reality at all and will always tidy up after himself, although this is untrue and refuses to admit he he’s definetly affecting the planes which he walks. he is a little weak-spirited, cowardly if you will. comes to his senses sometime, maybe. *the only trace he will ever leave behind are these "charcoal" black claw marks he makes on walls, it's unclear what they are for to anyone but him but most people pay no attention to them or just don't notice them. they are kind of everywhere as well but sometimes hidden away , sometimes hidden in plain sight .

he has a habit of disappearing for long amounts of time only to show up again at the most unexpected moments and then stick around for a while, to ultimately then leave again. he doesn't mind this. he is a wandering outsider. he knows a lot about everyone and everything, from observing, not neccecarily dedicating his life to it but he will naturally gravitate towards learning about the "behind the scenes things" if he finds himself in that situation of course, and is convenient to him. the word curious describes his existence on many levels. 

although he knows a lot about everything, hes not one to talk about it much. he writes little notes to himself, using his body as the medium: when he unfolds the polka-dot dressinggown thing he has on his body it reveals a dense garden of papery, crinkle like folds which he has essays and never ending scripts of things that hes seen and observed. this is his big secret. hes like a walking living breathing archive, but he may as well be an automaton- self sufficient, a strange island of a shrimp.