FEEL THE RIZZ!!!

Connor is a scruffy east european shepherd with messy, dark fur broken up by softer gray markings around his face and neck. His build isn’t especially intimidating, but there’s a rugged, worn-in look to him that makes him feel stubbornly hard to shake off. One of the first things people notice are his almost rectangular ears—usually angled in a way that makes him look mildly nosy, mildly annoyed, or like he’s silently judging whatever nonsense is happening nearby.

His face almost always carries the same expression: half-lidded eyes, a crooked little grin, and an air of lazy confidence that borders on smugness. He has the kind of look that says he already knows something stupid is about to happen and has accepted it. Even standing still, Connor gives off an oddly relaxed energy, like someone permanently running on “eh, whatever” while still paying attention to everything around him.

His fur tends to sit a little messy around the cheeks and neck, giving him a rough, casual look rather than anything neat or polished. Clothing-wise, he seems like the type to wear simple, comfortable stuff without much thought—a loose shirt, practical clothes, anything easy to throw on without caring too much how it looks. Somehow, even when dressed plainly, he still manages to look like he’s quietly amused by everyone else’s problems.

Connor’s clothes lean toward comfort over style, though somehow they end up fitting him perfectly. He tends to wear oversized or slightly loose long-sleeved sweaters, usually in washed-out grays, charcoal, muted blues, or faded earthy tones that look like they’ve been worn for years. The sleeves often sit a little too long, bunching near his hands or covering part of them when he’s standing around doing absolutely nothing.

A favorite look of his is a soft gray sweater—plain, worn-in, and slightly oversized, hanging comfortably around his frame without looking sloppy. It gives him a relaxed, perpetually unbothered appearance, especially paired with his half-lidded expression and smug little grin.

For pants, Connor gravitates toward dark, practical clothes with subtle personality. Tri-striped pants suit him surprisingly well: relaxed-fit joggers or straight-cut pants in dark gray, black, or faded brown with muted side stripes running down the legs. The stripes aren’t flashy—off-white, dusty gray, faded silver, or dark blue—just enough to make the outfit feel intentional without trying too hard.

Sometimes he throws on layered pieces without much thought: a zip hoodie over the sweater, an old jacket with slightly frayed sleeves, or loose shirts underneath if it’s cold. Nothing expensive, nothing overly clean-cut—just comfortable clothes that look lived in, practical, and easy to wear while following Dave into questionable situations.

Overall, Connor dresses like someone who rolled out of bed, shrugged at the closet, and somehow still ended up looking effortlessly chill.

Occupation: Unemployed (somehow always busy anyway)

Connor technically doesn’t have a job, and honestly, nobody is entirely sure how he gets by. He drifts through life with a suspicious amount of free time, usually spending his days wandering around, lingering in random places, or casually showing up where people least expect him.

For reasons Connor himself probably couldn’t explain, he has a habit of hanging around complete strangers. Bus stops, parks, convenience stores, sidewalks, outside buildings he has no reason to be near—if someone’s standing around long enough, there’s a decent chance Connor will somehow end up nearby, making dry comments or acting like they’ve been acquainted for years.

The strange part is that he rarely comes off as threatening or overly intrusive. He just... appears. Calm, relaxed, mildly smug, and oddly comfortable striking up conversations with people he absolutely does not know. Sometimes he listens to people ramble about their problems like an unwilling therapist. Other times he offers unhelpfully blunt observations, sticks around for no reason, then disappears without explanation. Nobody really understands why he spends so much time around strangers. Connor probably doesn’t either.

Connor views Markaw through the people wandering around inside it, especially the strange, exhausted, or suspicious ones he keeps accidentally crossing paths with. At 20–30 years old, he’s gotten used to the city feeling messy and vaguely dangerous without ever fully understanding why. He spends most of his time hanging around strangers for no real reason, quietly observing people, overhearing conversations, and forming opinions he rarely says out loud.

Dave is one of the few people Connor sticks around consistently. Connor knows Dave is involved in something shady, though never the specifics—only weird disappearances, injuries, suspicious luck, bad decisions, and the constant feeling that Dave keeps surviving things he probably shouldn’t. Because of Dave, Connor is vaguely aware of people orbiting around him, especially Edgar’s crew. Donovan comes off as loud, unsettling, and the kind of guy Connor instinctively avoids lingering near for too long. Travis gives Connor the impression of someone quiet enough to be worrying, the type who notices everything and says very little. Blazhevich feels unpredictable in a way Connor can’t explain, while Daud gives off a colder, sharper energy that makes casual conversation feel like a bad idea. Lloyd mostly registers to Connor as someone important in a way Connor doesn’t care enough to fully understand. Connor doesn’t know details about what any of them actually do, only that they’re tied to whatever mess Dave keeps drifting into, and that asking questions sounds exhausting.

Dominic’s side feels different to Connor—less mysterious and more like a dysfunctional group of people wrapped up in their own strange relationships and drama. Roger, Lance, Chum, and Carter feel more like people Connor occasionally hears about, spots around, or loosely recognizes rather than anyone close to him. Lance being involved with Gawlik and Vince remaining Dominic’s neutral ex-boyfriend makes the whole thing feel oddly personal and messy in a way Connor finds more confusing than intimidating. To Connor, people around Dominic seem less like faceless criminals and more like tired, complicated people stuck orbiting around one another.

Connor has never been to a casino, doesn’t understand criminal circles, and prefers keeping distance from dangerous people when possible. To him, Markaw isn’t really heroes versus villains—it’s loud people, quiet people, dangerous people, unlucky people, and everyone pretending they’re more put together than they actually are.

Connor sees Kenneth’s supermarket as one of the few places in Markaw that feels strangely dependable, even if it’s full of exhausted employees, awkward conversations, and people clearly carrying too much stress around. To him, the store feels less like a workplace and more like a place where lonely, unlucky, or tired people naturally drift together. Connor quietly likes hanging around there, even without a reason to be—sometimes to bother Dave, sometimes because Kenneth makes the place feel unusually stable, and sometimes just because there’s always something mildly interesting happening. Kenneth himself comes across to Connor as dependable in a way most people aren’t, someone trying too hard to hold things together while still being strangely patient with people who probably don’t deserve it. He kinda likes the old guy (Kenneth) for being a model father figure.

Nicolas’ videogame store feels different. Smaller, quieter, and easier to disappear inside. Connor sees it as the kind of place people go to avoid thinking for a while, full of dusty shelves, overstimulated conversations about games, and regulars who seem like they’d rather stay there than deal with real life. Connor isn’t obsessive about games, but he likes the atmosphere—especially Nicolas, who feels oddly grounded compared to how chaotic everyone else in Markaw can be. The store feels like neutral territory to Connor, somewhere people can exist without needing to explain themselves too much, even if half the customers seem one inconvenience away from losing their minds over fictional characters.

To Connor, both places feel less like businesses and more like landmarks for tired people trying to distract themselves, survive another day, or quietly avoid whatever mess is waiting outside.