David Bloom

Character

David is one of those people who gives the impression of being calm and even a little aloof, but behind this reserve lies a lively, observant mind. He dislikes fuss and loud company, preferring silence and the opportunity to think. He possesses a strange mixture of practicality and a penchant for mysticism: he can spend hours tinkering with some mechanism, yet he sincerely believes that things have character and memory.

He's not easily timid, but he's also not one to flaunt his courage. When confronted with something inexplicable, he doesn't panic—rather, he freezes, trying to understand what's happening. He has the stubbornness of an explorer: if something bothers him, he'll dig until he gets to the bottom of it. At the same time, he's able to admit when he doesn't understand something—and this is perhaps his strongest trait.

David is a man of few words, but when he speaks, he's to the point. He dislikes empty promises and doesn't make any himself. If he says he'll come to the old oak tree at midnight, he'll come. Even if he doesn't fully understand why.

Appearance

Tall, thin, with that angularity that comes with being a body part that's not quite right. Dark hair, always slightly tousled—either from running his fingers through it or from the constant wind. His face was long, with sharp cheekbones and intent gray-green eyes that seemed older than their age.

He dresses simply and practically: dark jeans, sweaters, and jackets with lots of pockets. His wardrobe always includes something a little outdated—an old-fashioned coat, a scarf with frayed edges, a watch with a leather strap.

He looked surprisingly at home in his Halloween costume: an old-fashioned vest, a neckerchief, a mask pulled down over his forehead—as if he'd always worn something like that and just kept it under wraps.

Hobbies

Handicrafts. David is skilled with his hands: fixing furniture, replacing wiring, carving wood. This calms him down, bringing him back to reality when his thoughts wander too far.

Night walks. David loves walking around the city late at night, when the streets are empty and the streetlights cast long shadows. He says that at such moments the city seems more honest—less crowded, less busy, less pretentious.

Reading. He reads everything, but especially old newspapers, diaries, and memoirs. He's fascinated by how people lived before, what troubled them, what they dreamed of. Sometimes he finds something in old texts that resonates with his own life—and it simultaneously frightens and fascinates him.

Silence. It's perhaps his greatest passion. David knows how to be silent without it being a burden. He values ​​people he doesn't have to talk to—and it seems that's why the meeting under the old oak tree struck him so deeply: there was something in that silence he'd long been searching for.