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Server time (UTC): 2023-03-25 21:07

Paul Raccoon Goodman
Character information
  1. Alias
  2. Mental
    Kind, fragile
  3. Morale
    Flucuates between extreams of high and low
  4. Date of birth
    1992-01-11 (31 years old)
  5. Place of birth
    Southwest US
  6. Nationality
    Once American, now Nothing
  7. Ethnicity
  8. Languages
    English, Spanish
  9. Relationship
  10. Family
  11. Religion


  1. Height
    182 cm
  2. Weight
    63 kg
  3. Build
  4. Hair
    shaggy, unclean, greasy
  5. Eyes
    blue, baggy
  6. Alignment
    Chaotic Neutral
  7. Features
    Appears tired and malnourished. missing left eye
  8. Equipment
    Large Bag, dirty cloths
  9. Occupation
    Scavenger, Hunter, Farmer
  10. Affiliation
    Kings Ranch
  11. Role
    wrangler, farmer


-Raccoon was the first born eldest child in a fundamentalist Christian household where he was responsible for raising his 15 brothers and sisters. Of course, back then, he didn't go by Raccoon. His name was Paul Goodman but no governmental documentation can verify his identity. This is because Paul's (or Raccoon's) family was part of the Quiverfull movement and homesteaded in the American Southwest without interference, or contact, with the Federal Government. Without documentation, Raccoon was unable to leave to get a job or rent an apartment. Hell, he couldn't even get a drivers license. Raccoon was essentially stuck, which started to present more and more of a problem as he grew up. He was gay.

- By his teenage years, Raccoon had thoroughly suppressed his sexuality. He was as butch as any other man and had adapted to his new role as the second most powerful patriarch in the family. But when he was alone, his mind always wondered if the outside world was as "immoral" as his parents and pastor had made it seem. On a trip to the market for his Ma, Raccoon passed a radical bookstore. Inside, Raccoon's eye's fixated on the interesting mix of people in black leather, multicolored hair, with piercings, and tattoos. Some people defied gender norms but others embodied them in a beautiful celebration of individual agency and expression. It was a freak show, but in the most beautiful sense of the word. It was a radical queer reading group. The signs indicated they were reading the Combahee River Collective statement. Pure joy was as evident as serious contemplation. Raccoon knew one thing, every second he was not part of that group was a waste of his life. But how could he leave his brothers and sisters? How could be survive out on his own? Within the 2 minutes Raccoon witnessed the group and he stepped foot into the market, his mind was made up. He had to leave. He had to be the community that brothers and sisters or any other queer Quiverfull kids never had.

-The next morning Raccoon woke up a hour before his alarm. His excitement was more powerful than his instincts to rest. For the first time in his 25 years, he had hope. Raccoon went back to the bookstore and waited outside for two hours before they even opened. "Page Against the Machine," the sign read, but it would be months before Raccoon understood the reference. While staring down at the stains on the concrete and contemplating how and what would leave a mark like that, Raccoon was greeted by a friendly and inquisitive "hello." He was startled but in the best possible way and got back up to his feet. He responded "oh, hello!" and stood there, for what seemed to him like 15 minutes, while he gathered his thoughts. He must have rehearsed his plea to the Book Store owner 100 times in his head before they got there. And then rehearsed it 10 more times in his head before he responded. The Book Store owner put out their hand and said "Shoup" before Raccoon could get out a single word. Despite all the practice, Raccoon responded, "can you help me?" Shoup put one arm gesturing towards the door and the other one hovering over Raccoon's left arm as if guiding him inside. Raccoon misread the gesture and hugged Shoup with the familiarity of an old friend. A smile grew on Shoup's face from a shocked glare and they leaned back into the hug, knowing that it was what Raccoon needed more than anything at that moment.

-Raccoon was given all the resources necessary to leave his family. However, most importantly, he was given the family he always wanted. A family that accepted him for him. He had been back to his old family's compound only one more time to leave a note for his siblings with an encrypted email address where they could reach him. They never did. He got a job at the book store and eventually rented an apartment and bought a car. His passion for reading, whether history, queer theory, or queer-anarchist theory grew and grew as the years went on. Still, he often thought about his old family and wondered what lesson or story they came up with to justify his leaving.

-News about his family came just after Covid ravished the United States in Spring 2020. They broke containment and made headlines in the local paper for their protest of masks and quarantine. The media seemed to love them because every week a new article was featuring this family and highlighting their homophobic, racist, and antisemitic rants. Raccoon let slip at a book club meeting that the "cooks" featured in the news were his old family. It was not long before local and national news outlets were hounding Raccoon for his story and highlighting the hypocrisy of his old Parents for giving birth to a queer son. After the news outlets left, the full might of the Fascist, reactionary Right, and Fundamentalist Christian groups was unleashed on Raccoon. Every hour he received a new death threat and when he wasn't directly receiving them, they were being spray painted on the book store he worked at. It was clear what Raccoon needed to do. But he had just gotten comfortable in his new life.

-In January 2021, Raccoon left his new apartment and new queer family. He made his way east finding food and work as he traveled. He never got too comfortable and suppressed his sexuality once again to avoid conflict. While in New York in November, Raccoon was down at the docs hunting for some extra fish or supplies that were casually discarded. "Hello little raccoon," a Finnish voice called out to him. "Are you looking for work?" he asked. "Umm sure," Raccoon replied. "What is your name little raccoon?" the man asked. "I like Raccoon" Raccoon replied. As the fisherman loaded up nets and loaded gear Raccoon asked, "So where are we headed?" "Nyheim" the man replied. "The government just fell which means no restrictions on fishing." This was not the most unethical thing Raccoon had done to survive and on the list of things he would not do, environmental crimes was fairly low on the list at this point. "It's a one way trip" the man shouted. But Raccoon did not care.

-On the trip over, Raccoon began to feel a familiar feeling of hope. "Maybe Nyhime is the best place for me," he thought to himself. But the hope that Raccoon felt also had to do with his new name. "Raccoon" embodied his adaptability and distance from mainstream humanity. But most importantly, he finally shed his old family name and nationality for good. He was now free, not from the trauma and baggage of his old life1, but free to choose his own path.

-Raccoon found a home in New Heaven once in Nyhime. He loved helping people and found service was a good way to forget about his own troubles. However, after a series of robberies and brutal attacks by a particularly malicious gang, Raccoon felt he was only helping provide the gangs with ammunition and food to further torment innocent people. At first, drugs became a perfect outlet for Raccoon's pain and expression. However, once the drugs stopped working, Raccoon felt he had become a cog in a brutal machine and blamed New Heaven leadership as much as the brutal gangs for reducing him to a means of production. Jaded and powerless, Raccoon finally stood up for himself and was beaten within an inch of his life. Thankfully, the only causality was his left eye.

-It was time for Raccoon to take control over his own life and he found the freedom and power of ranching and farming to be a therapeutic outlet. His new friends were rough, but kind, and they cared for him like the family he never had. Sure, he was an openly homosexual man amongst butch cowboys, but they seemed to accept him and respect his autonomy. In this space, Raccoon was allowed to make mistakes, help people, hurt people, and do all the drugs he could get his hands on, which allowed him another shot at the childhood his parents never let him have. The lack of structure was liberating. He knew the ranch wouldn't last forever, but in the meantime, Raccoon would learn what it means to be human, what it means to be a friend, and what it means to be a man.

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