Post by Chris Tongren on Mar 5, 2010 12:12:03 GMT -5
Name: Christopher Tongren
Age: 21 (July 22nd)
Gender: Male
Hometown: Boston, Mass
Job Applied for: CSI
Physical Description:
Despite the base description of "dirty blonde hair and gorgeous green eyes", Chris isn't exactly what society would consider a hunk... Not by any means. Most of his stats are average. Average height. Average weight. Although his looks don't scream it, one can definitely see "the look" when told that he's an Chemical Engineering major. And thats even before looking at his style. Of course, its not like his wardrobe lives back in the 70's, but it is a little behind what's "hip". He considers fads ridiculous anyway. You'll never catch him looking like a fool with his pants on the ground. Some comfortable, nice fitting jeans and a t-shirt and/or flannel button up. Thats all he needs to get dressed each morning. It's also the reason you'd never catch him dead in a monkey suit.
Personality: There are two simple words to describe Chris. Intelligent and awkward. Then again, either of those would be an extreme understatement. He's an MIT student studying Chemical Engineering, if that's any indication of his intelligence. However, where there are brains, there is usually madness. He's a little bit OCD, a little bit ADD, and more than a little bit mad. Perhaps its the bit of OCD that makes him such a good intern at CSI: Boston. He makes sure that any job he's given is done perfectly. Sure, he hasn't quite gotten use to the death and such. But he never had much faith in humanity anyway.
When it comes to social interactions, Chris's skills are non-existent. Years of merciless teasing killed any faith he had in other people, so the walls around him are miles high. But it's more than just a lack of trust. Its almost a fear. Fear that they're going to hurt him in one way or another. Especially after spending most of his college career as a hermit in his room. 21, a senior in college, and he hasn't had a real friend since kindergarten, much less any kind of serious close personal relationship. Not that he minds. He thinks better when he's alone anyway.
Bio: Ever since grade school, Chris's parents knew that he was special. He was a curious young boy that couldn't wait to go to school or do his homework or learn about something new. He was the first one in his year to learn to read, tie his shoes, or add and subtract. He'd always get his work done before any of the others, which led him to cause minor disruptions. When those major disruptions started getting him detentions, it didn't phase him. His parents, on the other hand, didn't handle it so well. Trying to care for such a gifted trouble maker put too much strain on their relationship until they finally divorced when he was 10 years old.
The divorce settled him quickly. Chris was a child. To him, it seemed like his dad had left because he'd been a bad kid. His act cleaned up. He stopped getting detentions, stopped acting out, started working harder. Sadly, it didn't bring his dad back. It did, however, invite the ridicule of his classmates. The only strength he could muster was to block them out and ignore them. As he got older, the mockery got worse, especially with the addition of braces in middle school.
Graduation finally rolled around. Chris didn't even attend it, despite his roll as valedictorian. He got his diploma in the mail, content on never seeing any of those people ever again. At the end of that summer, he went to MIT to pursue a Chemical Engineering degree. With no focus other than his studies and his future, he hermited himself in his dorm room for the entire first semester of his freshman year.
That spring, he decided that it was time to cut the purse strings, and applied for a bunch of internships, not wanting to rely on his mother's money anymore. FBI, CIA, Research Laboratories, you name it. Eventually he settled on the internship with Boston's CSI department, where he's been an night shift intern ever since. This semester, following the retirement of the old Nights supervisor and a tiring shift in his school schedule, he's decided to switch to the Days shift so he can get a bit more sleep.
RP Sample:
Age: 21 (July 22nd)
Gender: Male
Hometown: Boston, Mass
Job Applied for: CSI
Physical Description:
Despite the base description of "dirty blonde hair and gorgeous green eyes", Chris isn't exactly what society would consider a hunk... Not by any means. Most of his stats are average. Average height. Average weight. Although his looks don't scream it, one can definitely see "the look" when told that he's an Chemical Engineering major. And thats even before looking at his style. Of course, its not like his wardrobe lives back in the 70's, but it is a little behind what's "hip". He considers fads ridiculous anyway. You'll never catch him looking like a fool with his pants on the ground. Some comfortable, nice fitting jeans and a t-shirt and/or flannel button up. Thats all he needs to get dressed each morning. It's also the reason you'd never catch him dead in a monkey suit.
Personality: There are two simple words to describe Chris. Intelligent and awkward. Then again, either of those would be an extreme understatement. He's an MIT student studying Chemical Engineering, if that's any indication of his intelligence. However, where there are brains, there is usually madness. He's a little bit OCD, a little bit ADD, and more than a little bit mad. Perhaps its the bit of OCD that makes him such a good intern at CSI: Boston. He makes sure that any job he's given is done perfectly. Sure, he hasn't quite gotten use to the death and such. But he never had much faith in humanity anyway.
When it comes to social interactions, Chris's skills are non-existent. Years of merciless teasing killed any faith he had in other people, so the walls around him are miles high. But it's more than just a lack of trust. Its almost a fear. Fear that they're going to hurt him in one way or another. Especially after spending most of his college career as a hermit in his room. 21, a senior in college, and he hasn't had a real friend since kindergarten, much less any kind of serious close personal relationship. Not that he minds. He thinks better when he's alone anyway.
Bio: Ever since grade school, Chris's parents knew that he was special. He was a curious young boy that couldn't wait to go to school or do his homework or learn about something new. He was the first one in his year to learn to read, tie his shoes, or add and subtract. He'd always get his work done before any of the others, which led him to cause minor disruptions. When those major disruptions started getting him detentions, it didn't phase him. His parents, on the other hand, didn't handle it so well. Trying to care for such a gifted trouble maker put too much strain on their relationship until they finally divorced when he was 10 years old.
The divorce settled him quickly. Chris was a child. To him, it seemed like his dad had left because he'd been a bad kid. His act cleaned up. He stopped getting detentions, stopped acting out, started working harder. Sadly, it didn't bring his dad back. It did, however, invite the ridicule of his classmates. The only strength he could muster was to block them out and ignore them. As he got older, the mockery got worse, especially with the addition of braces in middle school.
Graduation finally rolled around. Chris didn't even attend it, despite his roll as valedictorian. He got his diploma in the mail, content on never seeing any of those people ever again. At the end of that summer, he went to MIT to pursue a Chemical Engineering degree. With no focus other than his studies and his future, he hermited himself in his dorm room for the entire first semester of his freshman year.
That spring, he decided that it was time to cut the purse strings, and applied for a bunch of internships, not wanting to rely on his mother's money anymore. FBI, CIA, Research Laboratories, you name it. Eventually he settled on the internship with Boston's CSI department, where he's been an night shift intern ever since. This semester, following the retirement of the old Nights supervisor and a tiring shift in his school schedule, he's decided to switch to the Days shift so he can get a bit more sleep.
RP Sample:
Ouca had expected this kind of reaction from Dexter, but not from Tyrar. Then again, he hadn't given much explination. Only Acro knew exactly why Ouca had to do what he was about to do. In a calm, even tone, he tried to explain. "Tyrar," he began, "You do not understand. Izzi and I were compromised this morning, and not just on a small scale. Her father, Nibor 239, discovered us during the debriefing of Remba 482. Izzi and I made a grave error which resulted in the massacre you just witnessed. By now, Izzi's face and my designation are all over the empire. There is nowhere we can go... nowhere we can hide. Not from this... not this time."
"So," Ouca continued, with a stern glance back at Mark's body, "Acro is to contact the Boston animorphs and request that a place be prepared for Izzi where she can continue to fight. It is the only place..." He paused for a second, trying to fight the lump in Izzi's throat. "It is the only place she is safe." Inside Izzi's head, he could hear her sadness. She didn't like this plan... not even a little... not even at all. Ouca retreated, allowing her to come forward. Her sadness came forward into tears on her usually stoic face. Today had been a whirlwind of emotions that she wasn't use to anymore.
Slowly, Izzi lifted her head up to look Dexter in the eyes. There was a naive hope somewhere in there she would find an answer, but all she found was more pain. For as long as she'd known Dexter, she'd felt something for him, something indescribable, but for as long as she'd know Tyrar, he'd been Ouca's subordinate. Inappropriate didn't even begin to describe the feelings she wanted to express. Now, she realized, might be her last chance to tell him... to let him know what he meant...
But Izzi couldn't do it, couldn't bring herself to even try to give him a reason to want to stay. "Ouca's right," Izzi choked out, her tone not even convincing herself. Immediately, her eyes diverted. "This is the only way. You can't stay here either. You have to go... anywhere. Acro and I will get in touch with some of the other YPM groups, let them know so that you have somewhere to go... but you... you have to leave... You can't stay here." As much as it hurt, and as much as she didn't want to believe it, Izzi knew that this was the best possible route.
