Post by DECLAN ROSSEAU on Oct 29, 2009 12:05:53 GMT -6
PLEASE WELCOME TO THE STAGE
DELAN JAMES ROSSEAU
[/color][/size]DELAN JAMES ROSSEAU
FULL NAME --[/size]
Declan James Rosseau
NICKNAME --[/size]
Just Declan
AGE --[/size]
28
ORIENTATION --[/size]
Heterosexual
MEMBER GROUP --[/size]
Local
CHARACTER TYPE --[/size]
Original
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POSITIVE TRAITS --[/size]
- Cares a lot about those he loves
- Calm most of the time
- Good sense of judgement
- Not selfish
- Trustworthy
NEGATIVE TRAITS --[/size]
- Worries a lot
- Serious
- Tends to exaggerate
- Bad social skills
- Wants to please everyone
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PLAY BY --[/size]
Matthew Goode
BEST FEATURE --[/size]
"My hair is probably my best feature."
WORST FEATURE --[/size]
"I absolutely hate my chest. It's so....weird."
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MOTHER --[/size]
Imogene Kay Rosseau, 56, Nurse
FATHER --[/size]
Paul James Rosseau, 57, Cardiac Surgeon
SIBLINGS --[/size]
- Henry Aiden Rosseau, 29
- Anna Riley Rosseau, 22
SPOUSE --[/size]
N/A
CHILDREN --[/size]
- None as of right now, but one is on the way.
--------------------------------
YOUR ALIAS --[/size]
Mia
RPG EXPERIENCE --[/size]
2-3 years
HOW'D YOU FIND US --[/size]
Geee....I wonder how?
SAMPLE --[/size]
Delcan stepped out of the shower units, feeling fresh and renewed after a hard day of surgery. Usually, he didn’t mind standing on his feet for a few hours at a time, but today was different. After almost eight hours of intense surgery on a young girl, who barely looked old enough to be seven, who was wounded from a gunshot. Apparently, although he had not been able to catch the whole story, the young girl, Aubrey, as he later found out, and her mother were walking home innocently the previous evening until two men in black ski masks approached them. They then proceeded to rob the two of their money, but when the mother refused, a gunshot went off injuring the child. That’s where he and his team of four other surgeons came in.
Quickly he wrapped the towel around his midsection in case others just happen to be in the dimly lit room. Although he wasn’t one that was ashamed of himself, he just wasn’t one to brag like most of his male colleagues. They walked around without towels on and occasionally they ran around snapping towels at each other’s behinds. Declan just rolled his eyeballs at them, thinking how immature they seemed to him. Which was true. It was like being in high school all over again. Declan reached his designated locker. His fingers and mind fumbled with the lock, trying to remember the combination. Was it seven, twenty-one, thirty or thirty, seven, two-one? After trying out almost every possibility as it seemed, the lock clicked and the door was able to be open.
As neatly as one with half a mind could, Declan folded his scrubs up and carefully placed them on the top shelf in his locker. His white sneakers, complete with custom foot insoles, were set on the floor of it. His “suitcase”, as he often referred to the red backpack he carried around, was hung up on one of the three hooks. He took it out and tossed it on the bench that ran along the thirty-some blue lockers. He changed into a pair of faded blue jeans and a layered graphic tee from some shop that he had come across while he was in London, not that it really mattered. Declan slammed the locker shut and bent over to grab the bag that had fallen on the floor due to carelessness. He slug the pack over his shoulder and made his way to the door.
His boney fingers pushed against the wood of the door, revealing a quite empty hallway. There was no one, except a few nurses making their rounds, wandering the hallway. At the very end, the receptionist for the emergency and surgical department was busy typing away at her computer. He smiled as he passed the young nurse with blond hair that was tied back in a bun. She paid no head to him and continued on with her work. Taking the rudeness of the woman quite well, Declan glanced down at the brown wristwatch that was strapped between his hand and forearm. It read two-twenty a.m. Great… he thought to himself until he felt the force of an object run right into his side. It caught him off guard and he was nearly knocked down until he looked to see what, or who, had collided with him.
Quickly he wrapped the towel around his midsection in case others just happen to be in the dimly lit room. Although he wasn’t one that was ashamed of himself, he just wasn’t one to brag like most of his male colleagues. They walked around without towels on and occasionally they ran around snapping towels at each other’s behinds. Declan just rolled his eyeballs at them, thinking how immature they seemed to him. Which was true. It was like being in high school all over again. Declan reached his designated locker. His fingers and mind fumbled with the lock, trying to remember the combination. Was it seven, twenty-one, thirty or thirty, seven, two-one? After trying out almost every possibility as it seemed, the lock clicked and the door was able to be open.
As neatly as one with half a mind could, Declan folded his scrubs up and carefully placed them on the top shelf in his locker. His white sneakers, complete with custom foot insoles, were set on the floor of it. His “suitcase”, as he often referred to the red backpack he carried around, was hung up on one of the three hooks. He took it out and tossed it on the bench that ran along the thirty-some blue lockers. He changed into a pair of faded blue jeans and a layered graphic tee from some shop that he had come across while he was in London, not that it really mattered. Declan slammed the locker shut and bent over to grab the bag that had fallen on the floor due to carelessness. He slug the pack over his shoulder and made his way to the door.
His boney fingers pushed against the wood of the door, revealing a quite empty hallway. There was no one, except a few nurses making their rounds, wandering the hallway. At the very end, the receptionist for the emergency and surgical department was busy typing away at her computer. He smiled as he passed the young nurse with blond hair that was tied back in a bun. She paid no head to him and continued on with her work. Taking the rudeness of the woman quite well, Declan glanced down at the brown wristwatch that was strapped between his hand and forearm. It read two-twenty a.m. Great… he thought to himself until he felt the force of an object run right into his side. It caught him off guard and he was nearly knocked down until he looked to see what, or who, had collided with him.
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