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STORY IS A WIP
are you okay, abel?
... physically.
you look into the dimly lit tent of your stand-in leader. he looks so tired, so small away from everybody else, and the faint light of his lantern accentuates all the lines etched into his otherwise soft face. it takes him a few moments, but he finally notices you. you swear for a moment you see panic in his eyes, and his smile feels too big for his face.
somehow, you feel as though you weren't meant to see any of this.
abel bonfils feels like the definition of wasted potential. a relatively happy childhood, a great relationship with most of his family, socially acclimated, and a top notch brain to boot. somewhere along the way something just went wrong. maybe it was when his father left, maybe it was when he realized life isn't always peaches, but whatever happened it's been eating at him for years, and the snowball of self deprecation isn't stopping any time soon.
maybe one day he'll get to settle down into a normal life, keep practicing chemistry, and have a great husband to sleep with every night. maybe.
design notes:
* when in doubt, comfortable loose clothing
* most of his clothes are too big on him and need to be tied or rolled up
* his face is soft and almost baby-ish
* eyes have a slight upwards slant
* mustache is curled
TRIVIA:
* has a sensitive stomach and eats only light meals to avoid upsetting it
