|
|
|
|
Your real name. No aliases: we'll figure it out sooner or later and you'll be less one job immediately. |
|
| *looks back at San expressionlessly* Rory. Rory Deveer. *ignores any looks of surprise* | |
| So, is that just between you and me, or do you have somethin' else you'd rather we call ya? | |
| *shrugs slightly* That's it, that's my name. Call me Rory. | |
| How old are ya? | |
| *runs a hand briefly through very short, sunny blonde hair* 20. *often feels a million times older than that, especially lately* | |
| Say I die tonight an' there are new guys at the door tomorrow when ya come in for work. How do they know it's you? What do you look like? | |
| *doesn't blink* Blonde hair. Blue eyes. Pretty tall. *shrugs* *is an inch or two over six feet and lanky to the point of skinny, with hard, lean muscles* *has short, closely cropped pale blonde hair, blue eyes that currently look somewhat gray, and the tanned skin of someone who is used to working outdoors* *is a very good looking boy, in a very corn-fed, boy-next- door way that is somewhat out of sync with a constant expression of vague melancholy* | |
| Right. What's your background like? And got any education -- can ya read an' write? | |
| I can read and write, yeah. *shrugs again* I didn't have much time for education when I was younger, but Cady's ma was a schoolteacher, so when we went out west, she helped me catch up on alot of things. *pauses and runs his hand through his hair again* I went west when I was fifteen. Just got back. *leaves out the more tragic aspects of the tale - including the fact that he went west with his childhood sweetheart and her parents, then married her when they were 17, only to lose her to pneumonia barely a year after the wedding, or that his return to New York was greeted with the news that all of his family had passed on in his absence, entirely without his knowledge, as there was no commincation between him and his remaining family in the time he was away* | |
| Describe yourself, your personality. | |
| *hates questions like this* *shakes his head* I work hard and I keep to myself. What else matters? *has a strong, passionate, normally friendly nature that is currently in hibernation due to the recent tragedies in his life* *is more likely to be melancholy and brooding for the most part, still quite preoccupied with the guilt he feels about not being able to say goodbye to his aunts or his brother, and not having been able to have made peace with them before they died* *is, in good times, an energetic, outgoing, perpetually upbeat young man with a strict moral code and sense of honor - but right now is rather emotionally crippled by his guilt and grief* | |
| Criminal record, prior arrests or convictions to speak of? | |
| *looks vaguely far away for a split second, then closes off again* Just a few trips to the refuge as a kid. Nothing serious. | |
| Got any family around, or friends? | |
| *doesn't bat an eyelash* They're all dead. *prefers to keep his distance from people right now, as everyone he cares about seems to have a habit of dropping dead* *is, however, a people person by nature, and is starting to open up a bit more to various individuals* | |
| What're your skills, an' what kind of job do you want? | |
| I was thinking nights, tending bar? *shrugs some* I work during the day as well, and I want something part time at night. *by way of explanation* I want to save up, maybe try to buy some of my own land eventually. *which is, of course, only half the story - his choice to apply at a bar owned by a friend of the man who murdered his brother is not coincidental, he's quite hoping Luke Forlani will eventually make an appearance at Marsden's door, and give him a chance to either avenge his brother's murder, or at least face the man who did it* | |
| Anything else? | |
| *shakes his head* I don't think so. *pauses* And don't worry, I'm no bigger a fan of Conlon and company than anybody here. Just thought you out to know. *quietly* *doesn't blame the West Brooklyn leader for his brother's death, but would really rather avoid contact with him anyway* | |
|
|
|
