Tucker is, from initial appearances, a regular old dumb redneck teenager. His dirty blonde hair is always disheveled and stuffed under a newsboy cap, and he never parts with his ratty brown leather jacket. His face, though not much better than plain, is quite expressive. He’s not a very big boy, standing only 5’4", and built slim and wiry.
However, anyone who got to know him would notice that, although a bit ignorant, he’s far from stupid or closed minded. He’s quite inquisitive and open to new experiences, both of which lend toward his adventurous attitude. He is usually pretty friendly and outgoing, though he does have a bit of an inability to keep his mouth shut, and he can’t blame it on his mouth running faster than his brain. He speaks his mind, for better or for worse, and it can get him into trouble. If someone does something he thinks is good, he’ll tell them, but he won’t hesitate to chew them out for doing something he sees as stupid either.
Being from the 1940’s, Tucker is pretty old fashioned. He has a strong moral compass, and won’t stray from it unless pushed. He’s against violence, and won’t fight someone unless they start it, and even then he’ll try to talk them out of it before striking back. He is a capable hunter, but he prefers only to hunt when he absolutely has to due to his dislike of violence. He also won’t hesitate to call someone out for doing something he views as wrong, and as such once he gets to know someone a fight will likely break out at some point regardless of if they are friends or not. Due to this tendency, he prefers to stick to himself most of the time.
Dear Mom and Dad,
I’ve arrived in Barrier Falls, or at least I think I have. When we got here the camp was abandoned and everyone but a handful of kids on the bus had up and disappeared. That’s not the weirdest part, though. There were talking rats here, hundreds of them. The stars are all wrong, too. At this point I’m wondering if I’ll even be able to get Uncle Albert’s stuff that he left for me, or if it’s even there. I don’t think this is the same world. The kids are all from different times, too. From the future, seems like.
I wish I could say I was just going crazy but I know I’m not, everything here can be touched, smelled, tasted, whatever. I’m not seeing things. We went somewhere else when we entered the camp and now we don’t know how to get back. I’m scared. I won’t let the others see it, they need a calm head around to keep things stable I reckon, but my hand is shaking while I’m writing this so sorry about the handwriting. Whatever is going in isn’t natural, and I plan on getting to the bottom of it one way or the other.
I don’t even know why I’m writing this, it’s not as if I know where to send it to. Or when, even. I guess it just helps calm my nerves. I know God has some plan for all of this but I’m still scared, and I miss you both. I hope I get to see you both again soon.With love, Tucker.