Gene Westlan [Major WIP]

[gene]

OOC/MISC CHARACTER NOTES

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^{Cbox Name:} LizButt
^Nicknames: Liz
^{Main Account:} Goemon Impact
^{Who else do you play?:} Goemon Impact
^{How did you find us?:} Bawb n' Fehl

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^Category: Original Character
^Ranking: True Neutral
^{Reason for being on AM:} To be a complete loser. To make friends.

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Gene Westlan

I need to draw some updated art.

Basic Details

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^Age: 48 (September 7th, 1972)

^Species: Human

^Personality:

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Powers & Abilities

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N/A

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Main/Important Equipment

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• A concealable pistol
  
  
• A mag-light
  
  
• Lighter, cigarettes, bottle of pills.
  
  
• First Aid Kit
  

[/li][/ul]

Weaknesses

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^{Psychological Flaws...}

• Utterly paranoid and mistrusting
  
  
• Lack of willpower
  
  
• Major PTSD issues
  
  
• Mirrors
  
  
• He resents physical contact, a quirk linked to his detest towards filth. To him, it felt as if a filthy imprint had been left on him, one that he cannot wash off no matter how many times he tries to. His usual response towards being touched is that he tenses, flinches away, and brushes the sensation off, followed with a sickened expression. An even worse mood would be followed with a sharp snap.
  
  
• Gene detests filth. Whether it would be in the form of blood, sweat, dirt, dust, or grime, he is sickened by the idea, the simple notion of living in it and having to share the same space with it. If anyone were to take a look at how he lives in his apartment, he takes great lengths to keep the place spotless to where it became another source of needless stress.
  
  Gene showers every day, to the point where he takes a shower once in the morning and once at night. There are occasions where Gene will take a shower simply because he feels filthy, seeing water as a wonderful purifier. Water resembled cleanliness and pureness for the sickened man.
  
  He washes his hands just as much, mostly whenever the grimy sensation gets the better of him. His bed sheets are changed and washed at least two times a week, and he takes great caution to make sure his laundry is washed and kept in the closet in an orderly fashion.
  
  There are many more habits that are linked to his unhealthy ideal of cleanliness, so this is a mere example.
  
  
• Suicidal
  
  
• Dogs
  

^{Physical Flaws...}

• Human (Weak, frail, thin, sickeningly underweight.)
  
  
• Missing an eye
  
  
• Combat inexperienced
  
  
• Diseased (HIV/AIDS)
  

^{Other Flaws...}

• Substance dependent
  
  
• He lives off of a vegetarian diet, omitting eggs and dairy product unless if it is absolutely necessary for him to consume it, preferring to live from what is grown from the land. His reason is that meat reminds him of filth, and blood is filthy, disgusting, and diseased. He’s lived off of his diet for such a long time to where he has gotten sick before from eating something that broke the chain.
  
  
• Racist asshole
  

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History....

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BLAH BLAH HISTORY BLAH!

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In Character RP Sample

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Bad memories. So many bad memories. It was hard for him to ignore the bits and fragments that drifted up to the wavering surface. It became a kaleidoscope of his life working at the hospital. A life of lies, slander, and filthy blood stained hands. Soon, the voices within his head were screaming at him to run away, to run away as fast as he could... and never come back. With a frightened whine, his pale hands tightened around the maglight with a white-knuckle grip. He was shaking. Shaking, shaking, shaking. He didn’t want to go in there. He wasn’t welcome there. Nathan said so. Avery said so. Alan said so. Everyone fucking said so.

It just didn’t make any fucking sense how he was drawn here. Xao was too, he could easily tell. It was a dreaded curse, an effect that this world had on everyone who was trapped between the void of reality and the otherworld. Oh how curiosity killed the cat... it always got the better of its victims. As Gene stood behind Xao with his feet firmly planted on the cold sidewalk, he watched him try with each attempt to pry open the hospital’s front doors... but they wouldn’t budge. Not even an inch.

Please stay that way. Please stay that way. I don’t want to go there. Never again. Please. Please. Please. I-I'm not welcome there. I'm... I-I'm not supposed to be there. Please. Oh god, please. Please. Please. Please. Gene said to himself, his words repeating like a broken record. When Xao turned over to Gene, he snapped out of his trance-like state and focused a powder-blue gaze upon him, his pale face wrinkling with uncertainty and fear, waiting for that dreaded moment.

And then it happened. Somehow... he knew he was going to say that.

“Ye... Y-Yes.” Gene obediently answered, his words tense with anger and bitterness. Goddamnit. Fuck you, Xao. Fuck you. I don’t want to go. Fuck you. “T-There... Th-There is. You’d... have to take the sidewalk t-though...” He said.

He couldn’t believe how much he was shaking. He shined the light down the sidewalk, watching it erratically shake as if an earthquake was sweeping through his body. His pale hand clamped down onto the other with a tight grip, trying to make it stop. But it wouldn’t. He was afraid. Unbelievably afraid. Soon, his friend would make it clear that he would have to lead... but going straight into a building that was on fire was stupid. He was stupid. This was all fucking stupid.

After a few ragged breaths, Gene gathered the will he needed to move and started off down the sidewalk... of course with his thoughts flooded with the sicking feeling of regret. Within minutes, the two reached the back entrance of the hospital. Much to Gene’s distress, he noticed that the door was slightly ajar. Oh how ironic his life was.

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^{Theme Songs...?} N/A