Shawn Denny
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Shawn Denny
by Lone Fri Aug 10, 2012 7:25 pm
Name: Shawn Denny
Description: A six foot, two inch young man with thick brown hair that covers the tips of his ears. He has grey eyes and slight darkness under the eyes from nights without sleep. His face doesn't have the hardness most associate with police officers but there is a certain toughness to him. His shoulders aren't broad but have the muscled toning shared by almost every serviceman. He has a good build but isn't butch which would be classified as a wiry build. He has a slight tan on his face from living on the island for two weeks.
Age: 27
Occupation: Police officer
Preferences: Shawn isn't very picky but he doesn't like jerks. He hates them. These are people who can seriously piss anyone off and try to do it all the time. He also doesn't like roaches. Roaches were creatures not meant for earth in his eyes. Other than that, he doesn't mind anything else but can occasionally get cranky if his childhood or history before joining the police is brought up. He likes many things, one being his dog and another being aeroplanes.
Bio: Born on the 15th of February to a nurse and lawyer, his life was not one of poverty. His father was a wealthy man with almost as many mistresses as his money. His mother involved herself in her work, spending more time at the hospital than the time she spent on him. His father, the mistresses and money turning him into a monster, picked up alcoholism and started boozing. By the age of five, Shawn had witnessed countless fights between mother and father. His mother, Patricia Denny, overdosed on painkillers which highly experienced nurses don't do by accident. His father had no need for him so he was given to an aunt and uncle who believed not in hitting a child when naughty but taking things away. Most of the time, this thing was food. Days would be spent without food for not washing the dishes or for drawing on the wall with crayons. that was his life 'til the age of 8. Eventually, his aunt and uncle changed, neither for the better or worse. His food was given back to him but their principles had taken a drastic shift. They, from the age of 8, brought the boy up on a strict military regimen. Early to bed, early to rise. Back straight. PT for punishment and hiking with heavy packs daily is what Shawn lived with for six years.
At the age of fourteen, Shawn ran away from home. After 37 consecutive attempts to escape, it was a relief to be free.
The relief was short lived.
Shawn was taken into foster care after being found by the police. His aunt and uncle had no official rights to the boy as they had not gone through the legal process of adoption and the boy's father had died while he was in the care of the crazy uncle and aunt. Shawn was in and out of foster care for three years. Continually running away from his carers until a new era of his life began.
A run in with a near death experience made him think of his life. He had accomplished nothing. If he died, he wouldn't have the luxury of good deeds done. His whole life had been a continuous run. The answer to his questions was the police force. He signed up and passed his examinations, to enter the local PD. His entrance was very dull, he did no great deeds and spent every day in the grim cycle of life with no meaning. Then he met a woman. Her name was Teresa but he called her Terry. Beautiful, smart and funny. A keeper. She gave his life meaning and true worth.
True worth that died when she did. She, the most innocent of all, died of the same thing that affected his father. Lung Cancer. She'd never smoked a day in her life but it killed her. Something she did not want to bring him down. Her last words to him before being carted off to the ICU were ones to keep his hope alive. Hope in life. Hope in humanity. He spent months wrangling with the subject of what she said. He lost his job and his home while he fell into a deprived state of anguish, wrestling with this problem of hope.
It came to him. He had to move. Packing the few things he had left, he bought tickets to an island far away from home. A place where he could forget the hurt his parents and his girlfriend had inflicted on him. Upon arrival, he signed up for the local police service and entered their ranks. Over the course of a few weeks, he regained his hope and his life.
Skills:
Firearm Level 1
Drive Level 1
Inventory:
9mm (8 rounds)
Total Island Points: 20
Description: A six foot, two inch young man with thick brown hair that covers the tips of his ears. He has grey eyes and slight darkness under the eyes from nights without sleep. His face doesn't have the hardness most associate with police officers but there is a certain toughness to him. His shoulders aren't broad but have the muscled toning shared by almost every serviceman. He has a good build but isn't butch which would be classified as a wiry build. He has a slight tan on his face from living on the island for two weeks.
Age: 27
Occupation: Police officer
Preferences: Shawn isn't very picky but he doesn't like jerks. He hates them. These are people who can seriously piss anyone off and try to do it all the time. He also doesn't like roaches. Roaches were creatures not meant for earth in his eyes. Other than that, he doesn't mind anything else but can occasionally get cranky if his childhood or history before joining the police is brought up. He likes many things, one being his dog and another being aeroplanes.
Bio: Born on the 15th of February to a nurse and lawyer, his life was not one of poverty. His father was a wealthy man with almost as many mistresses as his money. His mother involved herself in her work, spending more time at the hospital than the time she spent on him. His father, the mistresses and money turning him into a monster, picked up alcoholism and started boozing. By the age of five, Shawn had witnessed countless fights between mother and father. His mother, Patricia Denny, overdosed on painkillers which highly experienced nurses don't do by accident. His father had no need for him so he was given to an aunt and uncle who believed not in hitting a child when naughty but taking things away. Most of the time, this thing was food. Days would be spent without food for not washing the dishes or for drawing on the wall with crayons. that was his life 'til the age of 8. Eventually, his aunt and uncle changed, neither for the better or worse. His food was given back to him but their principles had taken a drastic shift. They, from the age of 8, brought the boy up on a strict military regimen. Early to bed, early to rise. Back straight. PT for punishment and hiking with heavy packs daily is what Shawn lived with for six years.
At the age of fourteen, Shawn ran away from home. After 37 consecutive attempts to escape, it was a relief to be free.
The relief was short lived.
Shawn was taken into foster care after being found by the police. His aunt and uncle had no official rights to the boy as they had not gone through the legal process of adoption and the boy's father had died while he was in the care of the crazy uncle and aunt. Shawn was in and out of foster care for three years. Continually running away from his carers until a new era of his life began.
A run in with a near death experience made him think of his life. He had accomplished nothing. If he died, he wouldn't have the luxury of good deeds done. His whole life had been a continuous run. The answer to his questions was the police force. He signed up and passed his examinations, to enter the local PD. His entrance was very dull, he did no great deeds and spent every day in the grim cycle of life with no meaning. Then he met a woman. Her name was Teresa but he called her Terry. Beautiful, smart and funny. A keeper. She gave his life meaning and true worth.
True worth that died when she did. She, the most innocent of all, died of the same thing that affected his father. Lung Cancer. She'd never smoked a day in her life but it killed her. Something she did not want to bring him down. Her last words to him before being carted off to the ICU were ones to keep his hope alive. Hope in life. Hope in humanity. He spent months wrangling with the subject of what she said. He lost his job and his home while he fell into a deprived state of anguish, wrestling with this problem of hope.
It came to him. He had to move. Packing the few things he had left, he bought tickets to an island far away from home. A place where he could forget the hurt his parents and his girlfriend had inflicted on him. Upon arrival, he signed up for the local police service and entered their ranks. Over the course of a few weeks, he regained his hope and his life.
Skills:
Firearm Level 1
Drive Level 1
Inventory:
9mm (8 rounds)
Total Island Points: 20
Lone- Admin
- Posts : 19
Join date : 2012-07-26
Age : 27 -
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