Gallagher [Zombie Apocalypse.]

Always sitting at the same spot, with the same drink, and with the same waiters... It's never changed in more than a decade.

Real Name Penacony Factions Penacony (on profile) Bloodhound Family History Fictionologists World Penacony Appearance: Gallagher is tall, muscular man with red eyes, shaggy brown hair and a visible stubble beard. He wears a dark grey dress shirt with a white vest over a turquoise vest. The dress shirt is slightly open in the front, with only one half tucked into his pants, and he has the right arm sleeve rolled up. His torso is adorned with various belts and straps which go around his shoulders, chest, and neck. On his left side, he wears a police badge with a dog symbol reminiscent of the Bloodhound Family's logo, and above it he wears a silver gear. He has a maroon tie in the same shade as his pants, with golden maple leave cuffs. His right arm has clear scaring, which glows a bright purple during his attack and idle animations. He wears a single leather fingerless glove on his right hand, and a white glove on his left. He has deep maroon pants with a blue and silver pattern running up the lower half. He also has a single thigh strap on his right leg and a flask tied to his hip which has a dog paw print cap. Lastly, Gallagher wears black shoes which have dog prints on the soles. Character Stories: A security officer from the Bloodhound Family in Penacony. He is also a slovenly and indolent drinksmith. Though unorganized in apparel and casual in how he makes his drinks, he is always courteous toward visiting guests but keeps his vigilance about him. He seems to carry a weight of a complicated past, yet he never voluntarily divulges any details. "The scent of tobacco, candy, and cheap shampoo... he gives off the typical smell of a middle-aged bachelor. While his clothes are tidy, they are always wrinkled and display a lack of style. He also displays no desire to look after his appearance. He doesn't have many friends, and his favorite pastime after work is enjoying a few glasses of Sweet Dream Special.

Yet such a man won the admiration and respect of the Bloodhound Family members — this is probably related to the scar etched across his face. In a sweet dream practically devoid of any accidents, an ugly scar serves as a rare honor for a security officer, symbolizing seniority and prestige.

Whenever confronted with a case, he would first unwrap a piece of candy and put it in his mouth. When the candy is almost gone with his chewing, he dives into the investigation with furrowed brows and ponders the clues until late in the bar. However, unlike the young officers, he seems to no longer find pleasure in apprehending suspects. When he gazes into the eyes of the so-called criminals who fell so far in the sweet dream, I see no sense of accomplishment in his eyes, only a profound emptiness and melancholy. I actually understand him. When you reach this stage of life, you'll start to doubt the meaning behind the life you've previously led. It was just like what I have experienced." — Note: The Security Officer of the Bloodhound Family. "People need an opportunity to connect with each other, and the diverse special mixes within the Dreamscape serve as catalysts for such reactions. As I check out my surroundings, I soon notice an individual who's used to suavely navigating through life. Using the Sweet Dream Special's fame as a starting point, he starts the conversation with the history of syrups and SoulGlad, explaining to the guests the connection between the time spent shaking the drink and the flavor of the final product. Then, he talks about the degrees of fit between the special mix's aroma with a person's personality, and how to master the secret of matching the right ingredients... The surrounding faces drown in the darkness of the surroundings. He listens to the whispers of sorrow or joy, all the while coldly observing the hearts of the masses as the drunken party continues. He waits for all the guests to depart, then polishes the silver cups on his own until they gleam while gazing out the door. Day after day, he waits for someone who will never return, waiting for that person to give him an eternal lie that will end such a never-ending destiny.

He walks alone down the street as lights go out one after another, and he casts a long shadow behind him —Perhaps I, too, will step on to the same predetermined path as he is on."

— Note: Sweet Dream Drinksmith. "There is only happiness in the sweet dream, which forms its greatest misfortune. These disillusioned individuals in the dream are terrified of The Family chasing them away. They wander like specters on the fringes of the Dreamscape, carefully concealing their emotions and avoiding memories that smell sour or bitter. Their defenses will only crumble during the brief moments after they imbibe the special mix as if they want to say everything they would ever want to say in the rest of their lives... 'If people who look down on me lined up, the queue be long enough to go around The Reverie three times. But those who are willing to treat me with respect... *sigh* there's one less of them every time one of them dies...' 'Everyone daydreams. When I was your age, I aspired to become an intergalactic major thug. The result is clear: The daydream shattered.' 'You won't notice it when your tie is askew. In Penacony, no one cares about what others were. They don't even care if others are *human* or not.' Their words are often insincere and perfunctory, never revealing their true thoughts. However, that's the only way the story can feel real." — Note: Disillusioned Ones in the Dreamscape. "During working hours, he presents himself as a seasoned and composed security officer. His prime has passed, he is more lenient, and his ambitions and aspirations have faded with the shattering of his dreams. After work, he would head to the familiar lounge to spend the long nights, mixing drinks for himself and longtime friends. As glasses clink, those conversations flow and fizzle like foams, then instantly disappear.

He reminisces about the golden years when he yearned for freedom despite his captivity. Together, they fought against oppression, entrusting their lives to one another. They dreamed of a free land. They might die any moment, yet acted as if they already held countless wonderful tomorrows within their grasp. However, there were not enough of them to fight back. Familiar friends perished one by one. Ideals crumbled, and atrocities prevailed...

'Is that something you lived through? You... you must be kidding, right?' The guest interrupts his gloomy soliloquy. 'Of course not. How can it possibly be true?' He smiles and resumes his work. ...Gallagher is my most genuine lie. Sometimes, I can't even distinguish between him and myself." — Note: Gallagher.