Post by Yvon on Aug 3, 2010 17:22:35 GMT -5
`Down to the basics //[/size]
Character name // Dr. Henry George Armstrong
Nickname? // None
Age //
Gender // 35
Eye color // Brown
Height // 1.75 m
Weight // 80 kg
`Who do I run with? //
Human //
Face claim //
Face claim // David Tennant
`So it may be hard to see //
Personality //
Quiet | Workaholic | Nervous | Focused | Easily Depressed
Henry, the workaholic. It's not like he's not social, it's just that a stutter seems to get on people's nerves. Add a global insecurity about himself, and your friends all go running out the door. So, Henry turns to the only thing he can do: work. He's the finest surgeon in the camp.
He's given up alcohol altogether, but that's only made him more introvert and depressed. He knows the people need him so he won't consider anything foolish like killing himself. But instead he works himself to the bone, never getting enough rest. He's become quite addicted to aspirin and anti-depressant. Just to keep him going.
`It's been a long, hard road //
History //
Henry George Armstrong, son of upper class parents. Growing up is difficult enough without a terrible stutter. Luckily, he was smart. Brilliant even, coming through medical school without problems. His entire youth was spend dedicated to his studies. Mostly spend indoor, reading books. He also excels in operations, proving to have a very steady hand, and soon becomes the hospitals most renowned surgeon.
Finally having found something he excels in, Henry becomes a workaholic. Time spend away from the hospital is spend utterly alone. Love never works out, never even getting beyond the first date. Henry becomes depressed and turns to alcohol. He focuses on his work and nothing else, trying to rid himself of people around him.
In that year, he makes the biggest mistake in his life. Of course people die under the hands of a surgeon. But Henry was drunk. Operating while drunk. Though no one can prove anything, Henry's reputation is shattered. Work declines and he is shoved to the side for younger, better looking and more charismatic doctors.
Being officially fired breaks Henry. He sits at home for 6 months, mostly loafing around on anti-depressants. It isn't until he finally steps out again that he finds a new job: Plastic Surgeon. Appearances are everything now a day. Henry makes a living, though most love for his job dies off with every boob job he does.
After the virus broke out, Henry first fled, not at all brave enough to stay. Later he- like most other humans- settled in Silver City, where his past does not matter. Here, his tasks are welcomed again. He has a small clinic where he threats anyone and anything, considering they can pay him (this said, he has a soft hard and often helps the needy for free). He considers humans and shape-shifters equal, and will make no difference in treating them.
Henry has also invested time in studying the virus, hoping to find a vaccin or a cure for it; but with little luck so far.
`About the roleplayer//
Roleplaying Sample //
And I heard, as it were, the noise of thunder: One of the four beasts saying: "Come and see." And I saw. And behold, a white horse.
'Revelations. King James. Oh how they mock me.' Why did he even bother to stop and pick the book up. What a cruel trick of nature, to leave the book open n such a page. He dropped the book with little respect.
It was eerily still in the library. Perhaps it was this religious section? Not that he held any disbelief that They would not enter here. Henry stepped around the fallen books and stood at the window, rubbing the dust off it to see outside. It looked eerily quiet in these first hours of daylight. He really should go out. Meet them. Find others. But god, he had never felt so terrified in his life. He wanted to cry. Again. All that blood. It was not the blood itself; he'd been used to that. But the violence of the spills. The gaping wounds. The blind fury.
He rested his forehead against the cold glass. That helped. A bit. He found himself crying again. He considered calmly to rub them away. But why; who would see them now, and mock him for it? The world could never go back the way it was. So what was there left. Best to end it all...
He turned around and sat down with his back against the window, rummaging around his pockets for the small bottle. At least he had those. They would keep his personal demons away. He took one of the anti-depressant pills. Waiting a few more minutes, he stood up and, clenching his suitcase against chest- moved into the medical sections. Maybe he would feel better if he wasn't so clearly under King James' eyes.
And I looked, and behold a pale horse: and his name that sat on him was Death, and Hell followed with him. And power was given unto them over the fourth part of the earth, to kill with sword, and with hunger, and with death, and with the beasts of the earth.
Name or nickname //Yvon
Age // 22
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