Post by fumalao on Apr 12, 2012 2:05:05 GMT -5
Michael Caleb O’Brian
[/color][/font]"One more drink, then I swear that I’m going home… truth is I don’t really have a place to go…"[/color][/font]
THE APPLICATION.[/color][/font]
Michael Caleb O’Brian
NICKNAMES. Mikey, Mike
AGE. 25
DATE OF BIRTH. January 1st
SEXUAL ORIENTATION. straight
MEMBER GROUP. werewolf
OCCUPATION. construction worker, usually ends up with the night shift
[/color][/font][/left]NICKNAMES. Mikey, Mike
AGE. 25
DATE OF BIRTH. January 1st
SEXUAL ORIENTATION. straight
MEMBER GROUP. werewolf
OCCUPATION. construction worker, usually ends up with the night shift
THE APPEARANCE.[/color][/font]
HEIGHT. 5’ 7”
BODY TYPE.average build
HAIR COLOR.dark brown
EYE COLOR.hazel
DISTINGUISHING FEATURES. a scar across the right side of his face that appear to be large claw marks (because that’s exactly what they are.)
FACE CLAIM. Christopher Carrabba
THE PERSONALITY.[/color][/font]
LIKES.
- dogs
- music
- being out at night
- happy hour
- brawls (when drunk)
- poetry (when sober)
DISLIKES.
- being yelled at
- being stared at
- silence
-being warned about his drinking
- cats
STRENGTHS.
- a good fighter (exceptionally so when drunk)
- good at putting himself in others’ shoes
- has a good work ethic/driven to do a good job
- can be very reasonable (even when drunk… occasionally…)
WEAKNESSES.
- has a bit of a drinking problem
- can be reckless when drunk; though it’s truthfully by choice
- can be very stubborn and resents authority
- tends to hold grudges, even in dire situations
FEARS.
- little kids
- being trapped in small spaces
- being unable to see and hear/complete darkness + complete silence
FULL PERSONALITY. Mike is the kind of person who had high hopes, and ended up somewhere he never wanted to be. If you had asked him when he was a boy what he wanted to be; working the night shift as a construction worker would not have been the answer. Because of this, he’s got quite the bitter side. He doesn’t like it when people tell him what to do or warn him of things, especially when he’s drunk. He can be very hot headed when he’s drunk, and can get quite loud when angered. The more drunk he is, the angrier he can get.
On the other hand, he can be very sympathetic/empathetic. Sometimes, when he’s drunk, he’s happy instead of angry (though this is rare). The happy drunk Mike is the kind of guy who shares a story like some old veteran, but will be too drunk to tell it right. The sober, non-bitter Mike is the guy who knows where you’re coming from and will listen to what you’ve got to say; offering you a beer and a pat on the back. He’s not the best at advice giving, and can only offer a shoulder to cry on and a few distractions from the hum-drum of everyday life.
Mike, despite being a drunk, is generally a reasonable and rational person. He has strong instincts for survival and a strong drive to work and do a good job. He knows what has to be done and will do what is best, though it may be reluctantly. He very rarely goes against his instincts, and it would take something big to make him not want to do what’s best for survival/getting the job done. He is very committed and can be a loyal friend, if you’re able to get to him.
THE HISTORY.[/color][/font]
PARENTS.
Mother: Katherine Anne O’Brian, 45, lawyer
Father: Riley O’Brian, dead.
SIBLINGS. only child
BIRTHPLACE.Queens, New York
SIGNIFICANT OTHERS. N/A
PETS. a mixed dog, mainly German Shepherd, named Rolf
FULL HISTORY. Mike’s werewolf history would be traced back to his grandfather, an immigrant from Ireland. It is unknown if he was bitten before or after he made the trip to New York, but once he got to New York he married another werewolf, and they had a single child. This child was Mike’s father, Riley. Riley, however, married a human, and they wound up with a single child as well, though for e different reasons. Riley died while his wife Katherine was pregnant. Mike was always told it was a hunting accident, nothing more.
So, Katherine gave birth to a baby boy, whom she named Michael, on the first of January. She raised him as a single mother, never taking the time to try to find someone new. She was too busy with her job and with her son to bother. Most of the time, Mike’s mother was too busy to watch him and the majority of his life was spent with his grandparents (his father’s parents), who tried their best to help his mother since his father’s death. When Mike was a toddler, his grandfather would often tell him stories of Ireland, and of his encounters with werewolves; never telling Mike the fact he was a werewolf himself. His life was otherwise fairly normal.
However, when the time came, it was revealed Mike was a born werewolf. His mother was not happy about that, as she’d been hoping her son would be normal. She didn’t want to have to raise a werewolf when she was a human, as she thought it wouldn’t work out well. She was already disappointed by the fact Mike didn’t seem to be doing well in school. Mike spent too much time with his grandfather, listening to all the stories the old man had to tell, that he didn’t ever study or focus on his future. Mike barely made his way through school, which upset his mother, who was a well-respected lawyer.
Mike wound up in community college, where he studied literature and business; just barely making his way through those as well. He had hopes, though his dreams were too scattered for him to figure out a plan, and when the time came, Mike wound up a construction worker. All he did all day every day was work. And it wasn’t something he enjoyed either. He felt stupid, and useless, hammering and drilling away. That was around the time he turned to drinking, it helped him feel better about himself. The alcohol was his medicine, and he could withstand quite a lot of it.
He got a pup on his 23rd birthday, a mutt that was mainly German Shepherd. He named the dog Rolf and the dog was his only companion. His grandparents were dead and his mother was too ashamed of him to face him at this point. Rolf was his whole world, and he was surprisingly responsible when it came to the dog. Even when he was drunk or hungover, he still remembered to take extremely good care of the pup. Rolf is now 2 years old, and Mike is still the same drunk.
[/color][/font][/left]Mother: Katherine Anne O’Brian, 45, lawyer
Father: Riley O’Brian, dead.
SIBLINGS. only child
BIRTHPLACE.Queens, New York
SIGNIFICANT OTHERS. N/A
PETS. a mixed dog, mainly German Shepherd, named Rolf
FULL HISTORY. Mike’s werewolf history would be traced back to his grandfather, an immigrant from Ireland. It is unknown if he was bitten before or after he made the trip to New York, but once he got to New York he married another werewolf, and they had a single child. This child was Mike’s father, Riley. Riley, however, married a human, and they wound up with a single child as well, though for e different reasons. Riley died while his wife Katherine was pregnant. Mike was always told it was a hunting accident, nothing more.
So, Katherine gave birth to a baby boy, whom she named Michael, on the first of January. She raised him as a single mother, never taking the time to try to find someone new. She was too busy with her job and with her son to bother. Most of the time, Mike’s mother was too busy to watch him and the majority of his life was spent with his grandparents (his father’s parents), who tried their best to help his mother since his father’s death. When Mike was a toddler, his grandfather would often tell him stories of Ireland, and of his encounters with werewolves; never telling Mike the fact he was a werewolf himself. His life was otherwise fairly normal.
However, when the time came, it was revealed Mike was a born werewolf. His mother was not happy about that, as she’d been hoping her son would be normal. She didn’t want to have to raise a werewolf when she was a human, as she thought it wouldn’t work out well. She was already disappointed by the fact Mike didn’t seem to be doing well in school. Mike spent too much time with his grandfather, listening to all the stories the old man had to tell, that he didn’t ever study or focus on his future. Mike barely made his way through school, which upset his mother, who was a well-respected lawyer.
Mike wound up in community college, where he studied literature and business; just barely making his way through those as well. He had hopes, though his dreams were too scattered for him to figure out a plan, and when the time came, Mike wound up a construction worker. All he did all day every day was work. And it wasn’t something he enjoyed either. He felt stupid, and useless, hammering and drilling away. That was around the time he turned to drinking, it helped him feel better about himself. The alcohol was his medicine, and he could withstand quite a lot of it.
He got a pup on his 23rd birthday, a mutt that was mainly German Shepherd. He named the dog Rolf and the dog was his only companion. His grandparents were dead and his mother was too ashamed of him to face him at this point. Rolf was his whole world, and he was surprisingly responsible when it came to the dog. Even when he was drunk or hungover, he still remembered to take extremely good care of the pup. Rolf is now 2 years old, and Mike is still the same drunk.
THE PUPPETEER.[/color][/font]
Kevin
YOUR AGE. 2.
OTHER CHARACTERS. N/A
YEARS OF EXPERIENCE. 5
RP SAMPLE.
[/color][/font][/left]YOUR AGE. 2.
OTHER CHARACTERS. N/A
YEARS OF EXPERIENCE. 5
RP SAMPLE.
Mike growled as he walked away from the work site, wiping a filthy hand over his filthy face. He was holding his hard hat in his other hand, and he seemed to be walking with a limp. He wasn’t truthfully limping, he was just walking that way for reasons even he didn’t quite know. He was done for the day… or the night. Whatever. He was done. He swung a right on instinct, not even needing to look where he was going. No one had to tell him how to get to a bar. If there was alcohol involved, he knew where the place was. He didn’t even have to be familiar with the area. But this was a place he was familiar with. He’d been to this bar a million times, two or three times a day. He kept on walking through the streets, the cold air blowing in his face. He’d had a rough day. If he’d been yelled at one more damn time, he just might have snapped.
Mike let out a sigh of relief as he entered the familiar bar. The bartender saw him walk in and got the usuals ready. He always started with 5 beers, and then went on to something stronger. It was a good thing he didn’t give a damn about his liver, or he might’ve stopped drinking ages ago. And then what would he do? Be sober and continue with this shit life? Sober? How could he continue a shit life while sober? He’d probably become suicidal if he wasn’t a drunk. Besides, his granddad had been a drunk, and he’d had amazing stories to tell. Mike took a seat at the bar and chugged down the first two beers in a second. He could tell the bartender was going to ask if he’d had a rough day, in a sort of sarcastic way; something he’d done several times before. “The hell do you think.” Mike cut the man off before he even spoke. The bartender shrugged and continued on with his work. If that’s what you could call it.
Mike sighed, chugging down drink after drink, just waiting for it all to kick in. He began to slowly feel the effects and just as it began, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He spun around in his seat and spoke in a loud slur, “Whadderyawant?!” His vision began to blur just ever so slightly, and his face became a drunken smile. He glanced over his shoulder to see exactly what he had been drinking, as he hadn’t felt quite so drunk quite so fast in a long while. He’d had a couple of shots, three Long Island Iced Teas, seven beers, and God knows what else. He giggled a little and then hiccupped. He tried to return his attention to whoever had tapped his shoulder, but found that to be an increasingly difficult task. Whoever was standing right in front of him was somehow the hardest thing to see in the entire bar.
“So this is what you’ve done with your life, Michael?”
“Mom?” Mike garbled before passing out right then and there. His head just hadn’t been in the game that night. That was one of his worst nights, by far.
Mike let out a sigh of relief as he entered the familiar bar. The bartender saw him walk in and got the usuals ready. He always started with 5 beers, and then went on to something stronger. It was a good thing he didn’t give a damn about his liver, or he might’ve stopped drinking ages ago. And then what would he do? Be sober and continue with this shit life? Sober? How could he continue a shit life while sober? He’d probably become suicidal if he wasn’t a drunk. Besides, his granddad had been a drunk, and he’d had amazing stories to tell. Mike took a seat at the bar and chugged down the first two beers in a second. He could tell the bartender was going to ask if he’d had a rough day, in a sort of sarcastic way; something he’d done several times before. “The hell do you think.” Mike cut the man off before he even spoke. The bartender shrugged and continued on with his work. If that’s what you could call it.
Mike sighed, chugging down drink after drink, just waiting for it all to kick in. He began to slowly feel the effects and just as it began, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He spun around in his seat and spoke in a loud slur, “Whadderyawant?!” His vision began to blur just ever so slightly, and his face became a drunken smile. He glanced over his shoulder to see exactly what he had been drinking, as he hadn’t felt quite so drunk quite so fast in a long while. He’d had a couple of shots, three Long Island Iced Teas, seven beers, and God knows what else. He giggled a little and then hiccupped. He tried to return his attention to whoever had tapped his shoulder, but found that to be an increasingly difficult task. Whoever was standing right in front of him was somehow the hardest thing to see in the entire bar.
“So this is what you’ve done with your life, Michael?”
“Mom?” Mike garbled before passing out right then and there. His head just hadn’t been in the game that night. That was one of his worst nights, by far.
[/center]
this application was made by JESS !? of CAUTION !? please do
not steal this application. if you do i will send a ninja to
attack you.
[/color][/font][/center]not steal this application. if you do i will send a ninja to
attack you.