#Jacques Bluezz

Hey guys. As the character introduction is rolling out, one knows we’re getting close to a new update. In around 3 weeks or so, the 0.5 update will be ready. It's going to be one day, which means update 0.5.5, I guess? Don't quote me on that... Will be launching not too far behind, as all the renders of the second day have been made, but not all rendered yet though.

But today I’ve got a special character introduction for you. Jacques. He’s... different. So he needed something different. A bit less serious this time, but don’t be fooled... that doesn’t mean he’s not in for serious business.

Jacques Bluezz, that’s how they call him. He’s the kind of man who shows up. No one asked for him, no... but there he is. Just standing around.

He never quite fit anywhere, but he never really minded. He wasn’t a man of big thoughts or big plans. He liked small things in life. Flowers, jazz, Italian food, and the sound of boiling water.

He moved from place to place, doing odd jobs, never asking many questions and never staying too long.

People often said Jacques had a strange way of communicating. As if he didn’t hear what you were saying. He’d say something completely random, bring up a koala bear or something... and only after that, he’d get the point, proving he was listening all along. Most stopped talking to him after a while. He was used to that.

He has a brother somewhere, but they don’t speak much. His parents are gone now. Buried.

Time passed without him doing much in life. He lived in flats he never furnished, ate food he didn’t cook, and danced to music that wasn’t playing. But when the welfare money ran out, Jacques really came to life. Every now and then, something would break, and Jacques would fix it. Not because he had to. Just because he could. He was talented.

That’s where he got his name: Jacques Bluezz. He’d put on some nice blues music, let you relax, and before you knew it? Jacques fixed it. He was a fixer. He still is.

In recent years, he started fixing things even more. Pipes. Lights. Loose doors. Sometimes people would ask him where he learned it all. He’d answer, “Your mother.”

He wasn’t an easy guy to befriend. But people appreciated his art of fixing.

Now, at last, he’s found some peace. Rinsdale is his home, his heart, his everything. As a self-employed man, he’s a professional fixer, takes on side jobs to pay for his living, and charms people with his presence.

People are starting to like him.

It suits him.