Post by Daniel Mignon on Dec 6, 2008 3:01:14 GMT 7
"I'm going to kiss him then kill him!"
[/size][/color]Hello, my name is; Bret or Breta.
And I have been roleplaying for; Four or five years now.
My other characters are; n/a
And my time zone is; -7 GMT
[/right]
{
}
But I can't sleep until this is done...
They're in my head;
They're in my soul...
Come on down to the other side.
Come with us through the gates of Hell.
We will drag you from where you are...
To where
You
Belong
}But I can't sleep until this is done...
They're in my head;
They're in my soul...
Come on down to the other side.
Come with us through the gates of Hell.
We will drag you from where you are...
To where
You
Belong
Name; Daniel Mignon
Nicknames; n/a
Age; 28
Date of Birth; August 5th, 1981
Nationality; American (French descent)
Orientation; Asexual
Medical Information; No organs or body exist below his ribcage, relies on intravenous blood to keep him alive.
Occupation/team; Freelance Photographer/Intell
Languages spoken/accent; English, soft American accent.
Scars; Many where his body ends, from extensive surgery.
Tattoos/Piercings; None, but has some odd dark-toned splotch on his left shoulderblade.
Height; 5'5"
Weight; 100lbs.
Eyes; Large, dark eyes. Usually with equally dark circles under them, depending on the day.
Hair; Overly thick brown hair, easily can get out of control.
Build; Emancinated at best. Most, if not all, ribs can be seen visibly.
Distingushing features; Lacks lower body, is wheelchair-bound.
Appearance; At first glance, Daniel looks quite normal for his age. His hair, usually unkept, and dark rimmed eyes combine with his collared shirts to suggest he's a typical, run of the mill student. When it's not a normal button-up shirt with a Tshirt thrown over it, it's turtleneck sweaters. Daniel keeps himself well covered up, even in hot temperatures.
When looking at him, the customary second glance, however, registers the wheelchair beneath him, as well as the unusual stiffness of his legs. Because he takes great care in grooming his appearance to be ordinary, Daniel has a set of plastic, fully clothed from thighs to toes, mannequin legs to sit with him in the chair to avoid questions. The wheelchair itself is quite normal and unremarkable, save for a small patch sewn onto the underside of the seat, of a single red droplet with the background of a darker red cross.
Likes;
{+} Dark colors
{+} Cool weather
{+} Smooth roads/sidewalks
{+} Photography
{+} Computer parts
Dislikes;
{-} Nightmares
{-} Black
{-} Not eating normally
{-} Needles
{-} Stairs
Personality; Daniel is a painfully shy young man. He usually cannot bring himself to speak to a member of the opposite sex, and gets quite flustered if they speak to him first. When this happens, his face turns almost entirely red, and he appears to almost be unable to breathe. The need for the fake legs on his wheelchair also stem from this, and his awareness of his being. Otherwise, Daniel is quiet and reserved, not at all prone to getting himself worked up.
When working, he becomes fiercely fixated on the task at hand, often going to a point where he'll shut down all forms of communicating with him to avoid distractions. Daniel can be extremely resourceful at this point, finding himself places where he would not normally think his wheelchair could access. His strange, almost non-existant sense of humor presents itself more prominently after his work is done, more often than not when speaking to whoever is currently paying him.
Phobias/fears;
{*} Basophobia: Fear of falling. Daniel has a very strong, well grounded fear of falling objects, particularily large ones, and of falling out of his wheelchair. Considering he would not be able to get up and back into the chair without help, he doesn't believe it to be an irrational fear at all.
Strengths; The only possible strengths Daniel could possess are his intelligence and his aptitude in photography and intell gathering. Otherwise, he's a sitting duck.
Weaknesses; Cannot go up or down stairs in one piece, nor can he fit in extremely small places. He cannot stand, jump, walk, or do anything that requires legs. Daniel is easily humiliated and embarrassed. He possesses only a small amount of strength.
Skills; Can process his own photographs from film, courtesy of training and experience. Is also quite adept at manuevering his wheelchair into tight places. He also has small talents whenever technology is concerned, particularily with computers, from his intell work.
Powers; None.
Relationships;
{+} Carrie: Daniel's best friend/sister figure. She's usually the one who goes where he cannot, and helps him out. Lately, though, she's been curiously absent, leaving Daniel to try to keep himself alive.
{+} Dr Cecil Hunter: The doctor who very well saved Daniel's life with his experimental blood diet.
History; Daniel Mignon grew up normally until he reached his univeristy years when an unstable column fell over and crushed his lower body. Though extensive surgery enabled him to survive, Daniel lost both everything below his ribcage and his self-confidence. Quickly withering away without a stomache to digest any food, he was turned over to Dr Hunter, who started him on a widely questionable and experimental blood diet. Daniel thrived, and continued his education, switching his classes to an online version to do so, being far too nervous and shy to venture far from home.
After his schooling, Daniel got a job collecting intell for a lucrative company in the States, and along the way discovered his talents for photography, even constructing his own personal, wheelchair accessable, dark room. As time progressed, he became quite used to his position in life, even though his painful awareness pushed him to buy a pair of mannequin legs, prosthetics being out of the question as to their expensive and with no hips to attach them to, to give off the appearance of normality when he travelled out of his house.
Daniel first came to Nottingham on the dual requests of Dr Hunter and the company he worked for. The head of the company had heard about the new 'Robin Hood' phenomena, and sent Daniel to discover exactly what was going on. Dr Hunter had a more personal request, considering his hometown. What the request itself was, exactly, is not known by anyone but the two men themselves, as Daniel never spoke of it after receiving it. A few months revealed little to nothing on the Robin Hood 'case', something that both annoyed and elated the young man. More time passed, to the same end.
Then, near on a year after arriving, Daniel managed to capture a snapshot of an individual who appeared to be involved. Disappointed in both the quality of the picture and himself because of it, he nonetheless forwarded it to the Nottingham Police, but not without sending a copy and a carefully worded report to the company many miles across the ocean, in the States. After this, he became highly on guard and cautious, rationalizing that whomever the photo was of and their friends would not take kindly on someone capturing them on film.
Achievements;
{*} Majored in History.
{*} Got a high-paying job.
Long-term Goals;
{*} Completed what has been requested of him and go home.
Play by; Jason Ritter
Roleplay Sample; (Excerpt from a Literature RP)
Hands steepled, Phineas Fogg regarded the man who sat opposite to him, in a similar chair composed of dark green fabric, with an air of curiosity.
He contrasted to Fogg quite sharply, his pale skin even paler. There were a great deal of creases in his face, especially in his brow. Otherwise, he looked no older than Fogg himself. Excellent build, if a little shrunken on his frame. Dark hair with an almost blonde sheen to it, still thick. The man possessed the most eerie pair of eyes Fogg had ever seen, even on his worldly travels.
Dark eyes, sunken into their sockets.
Eyes that had seen many.
That had likely seen far more than they had ever meant to see.
The eyes closed, the face they belonged to despairing and crumpling in emotion. The man leaned forward.
"I do not blame you if you do not believe me. The whole thing does sound rather fantasical, even to my own ears and mind."
Hands buried in his own hair, elbows on his knees.
"I have had a shock. I have lost my wife and a girl I have loved. I lost my son. I have been to the future, both far and near. I have seen mankind divide into two seperate species. I have seen one feast upon the other. I have seen the day machines control the world. I have seen when the world is not controlled by anyone but it's own self. I do not believe a word of it, and yet I have experienced it!"
He spoke with such energy that Fogg broke out of his quiet, cold state to pat the other on the shoulder.
"Now, see here..."
"I've been through far too many names."
"Then I am to call you...?"
The man sighed, turning his head and shifting back.
"...I suppose now I am spimply a time traveller."
A lengthy pause. Fogg released the man's shoulder and stroked his chin thoughtfully.
"Now, see here, Time Traveller. I believe every word you said."
The Time Traveller started, his back hitting the back of the chair. Absolutely, completely bewieldered.
"You do?"
"Yes." Fogg said, firmly. "I do indeed. Infact, I am in need of your services."
[/sub]Hands steepled, Phineas Fogg regarded the man who sat opposite to him, in a similar chair composed of dark green fabric, with an air of curiosity.
He contrasted to Fogg quite sharply, his pale skin even paler. There were a great deal of creases in his face, especially in his brow. Otherwise, he looked no older than Fogg himself. Excellent build, if a little shrunken on his frame. Dark hair with an almost blonde sheen to it, still thick. The man possessed the most eerie pair of eyes Fogg had ever seen, even on his worldly travels.
Dark eyes, sunken into their sockets.
Eyes that had seen many.
That had likely seen far more than they had ever meant to see.
The eyes closed, the face they belonged to despairing and crumpling in emotion. The man leaned forward.
"I do not blame you if you do not believe me. The whole thing does sound rather fantasical, even to my own ears and mind."
Hands buried in his own hair, elbows on his knees.
"I have had a shock. I have lost my wife and a girl I have loved. I lost my son. I have been to the future, both far and near. I have seen mankind divide into two seperate species. I have seen one feast upon the other. I have seen the day machines control the world. I have seen when the world is not controlled by anyone but it's own self. I do not believe a word of it, and yet I have experienced it!"
He spoke with such energy that Fogg broke out of his quiet, cold state to pat the other on the shoulder.
"Now, see here..."
"I've been through far too many names."
"Then I am to call you...?"
The man sighed, turning his head and shifting back.
"...I suppose now I am spimply a time traveller."
A lengthy pause. Fogg released the man's shoulder and stroked his chin thoughtfully.
"Now, see here, Time Traveller. I believe every word you said."
The Time Traveller started, his back hitting the back of the chair. Absolutely, completely bewieldered.
"You do?"
"Yes." Fogg said, firmly. "I do indeed. Infact, I am in need of your services."
