World of Redemption

A middle-aged Caucasian man with a puffed-up sense of showmanship and a flair for the theatrical. His thinning black hair is carefully combed over to the left, and his clean-shaven cheeks highlight a bold, waxed moustache that curls slightly at the ends. He dresses with garish confidence, wearing a caramel-colored plaid suit jacket trimmed in darker brown tones over a red plaid vest adorned with multiple decorative chains. His light gray plaid pants barely match but add to the patchwork of his presentation. A caramel puff tie at his neck gives him a mock-aristocratic air. His gestures are wide and deliberate, often accompanied by a gleaming smile that rarely touches his calculating eyes. A worn leather satchel at his side is always stuffed with copies of his book, ready for the next pitch. Despite his questionable credibility, he somehow always looks like he just stepped out of a parlor.

Timothy is charismatic, verbose, and brimming with forced optimism. He sees every interaction as an opportunity for persuasion and treats life as a perpetual sales pitch. He’s well-practiced at reading people’s desires and fears, tailoring his message to hook their interest—if not their trust. He speaks in flowery metaphors and overused aphorisms, often quoting himself or fabricated “great men of industry.” Beneath the surface lies a man both insecure and cunning, driven by a desperate need for validation and success. He rarely admits defeat and rebrands every failure as a “strategic redirection.” While not malicious, his self-delusion and opportunism often lead others into questionable decisions. At his core, Timothy believes he’s doing people a favor—selling them not just a book, but a dream. And if he profits in the process? All the better.

Timothy A. Donahue arrived in Saint Denis years ago with nothing but a dream and a suitcase full of half-baked schemes. He’s been a failed prospector, an unsuccessful investor, a “spiritual advisor,” and even once claimed to be a baron of a defunct European duchy. Eventually, he published Get Rich Quick—a disjointed and overly optimistic guide promising success through “vibrational wealth attraction” and “confidence-based commerce.” Despite its dubious contents, the book caught mild attention for its sheer audacity. Now, Timothy travels the streets of Saint Denis, standing on crates and pitching his message to anyone willing to listen—or pay. Though most see him as a huckster, his charisma has earned him a strange sort of tolerance among locals. Whether deluded or desperate, Timothy continues to believe that just one more pitch will make him a millionaire—and he’ll convince you to believe it too.