Post by William Akhurst on Jul 27, 2011 4:13:30 GMT -5
"Well there's a roight way of doin' things, and a wrong way. And that, moy friend... Was just plain wrong."
Name: William V. Akhurst
Age: Thirty-eight
Date of Birth: March 3, 1952
Team: Red.
Class: Sniper
Gender: Boyo
Languages: Aussie-English, and sparse French
Loadout:
Primary: Sniper Rifle
Secondary: Razorback
Melee: Bushwacka
Personality: Right when you meet this man, you question if you really are on a battlefield. William has not the tendencies of average Snipers who lock themselves away in high towers. No, this man is as social as they come and doesn't pass up the chance to beat someone in a friendly game of Poker. From the get-go, this man is friendly-will even shake your hand-and seems to lend more of a helping hand than someone in the war should. His soft edged smile sets people at ease because he has a look in his eyes that says you can trust him.
A flirt. Straight or gay, Will cannot help his natural tendencies of cracking jokes and giving small nudges to his team. Though he knows better than to try too hard on the easily smitten, Will likes a little 'old married couple' banter. It soothes his worries and makes him comfortable to know he can tease the others without being suddenly branded.
A ticking time-bomb. With a complicated combination to boot. There are only a few things that set Will off and he will never say, but a man will know when he's stepped on a landmine the instant the sole of his boot touches the steely metal. The friendly older man known as William Akhurst is not a person to be trifled with when it comes to certain areas of his life.
Sexuality: Quiet homosexual. Not closet. He is open about his sexual preferences to anyone who dares even ask another man. However, if you took a step back and looked at him, you would have never guessed he was the type.
Strengths:
Patience - One that rivals the Lord's, Will is never in a hurry; whether it's pinpointing a target, stalking his opponent, or even pursuing a love interest. He prefers to let them come to him. Some may argue that this could also be a weakness.
Experience - Which often translates into a bit of ease around his team. Often times, a veteran would be more on edge with all the Spies and Monsters running loose. Will can sense trouble like a feline can see a spirit, and many times, enemies who choose not to attack him often underestimate him; calling him an 'Old man past his prime'.
Poker Face - Ever smiling in the face of danger, he can't seem to take serious things... Well seriously, unless it effects him immediately.
Weaknesses:
PTSD - (post traumatic stress disorder) It's the little things that can break someone down. For some brave men, its night terrors. Others snap back into a memory when being shot at. William can't stand his past being brought up. Any questions about what his life was like before the Wars sends the Sniper into a bit of a moody silence.
A certain someone - Though he knows that it was ever a mistake to bring love into a warzone, Will was confident that this one would be kept safe considering the person he loved had been on the opposite team of him. There was never the threat of having that man being used against him, but it does not mean it will never happen.
Arthritis - There are some things that even the Respawn can't fix. A malfunction during a barrage of rockets being aimed at the Spawn pit back in his second war in Anchorage left a pretty deep impression on Will. Mostly in his left leg. There are no scars or burns, but it doesn't have to be seen to be crippling. Over time or after crouching for too long, Will may accumulate an odd gait in his walk, or even make an excuse to sit down. Arthritis is never an attractive feature and only makes Will feel like the old dingo he denies being.
History:
RECORDS REGARDING WILLIAM V. AKHURST ARE LIMITED AND RESTRICTED. ADMINISTRATOR'S PASSWORD IS NEEDED. PLEASE ENTER PASSWORD:
*********
PASSWORD ACCEPTED. FILES ARE AS FOLLOWS. . .
William V. Akhurst is an intelligent being who grew up in a harsh yet forgiving environment. Foster parents that loved him for who he was and what he did, allowed him to grow up in the way he chose. Often times this deep love would cause William to get lost in his travels of doing whatever he liked. On more than one occasion people were hurt in events following. But negative impacts often have positive results.
FILES MISSING. . .
FILES FOUND. . . .
--war and found William on the battlefield. It was a strain for him to get used to; the people, the fighting, the ever-changing environment. But such a young man learned to adapt and make most of what he was given. It took time and effort that paid off. Certain classes however still got the better of him, those being- INFORMATION NOT FOUND-
He had kept with his RED team for quite a while before many of them retired or simply gave up. Even for a couple of years, William relaxed in ignorant remission, traveling with his lover across the grand country and enjoying life in retirement. But rest never seems to fall of those who have done wrong. His life was ripped from him, an accident, a scarring loss that hurled the woodsman back into the War. Without his loved one by his side, retirement meant nothing.
FILES ENDED. FURTHER ACCESS DENIED.
Nationality: Australian
Appearance:
Hair Color: Light auburn
Eye color: Faded teal
Height: 6'1"
Weight: 157 lbs
Curved is usually the first word to pop into mind, besides Tall. And not 'curvy' as when you describe a woman. But 'leaning'. It seems the man can never stand up straight, even to save his life. And it's this habit that gives others the perception of him being 'laid back' and 'relaxed'. Shoulder against a wall or structure and head cocked just enough to the side that he may see you from under the wide brim of his hat, Will dresses in his uniform on a daily basis. White tank top as an undershirt, his RED button down with the Sniper insignia on his shoulders, yellow tinted aviators that now sit on the brim of his hat rather than on the bridge of his nose (who wears sunglasses in a sunless Swamp, honestly?), and pointed boots. Though recently he has chosen to walk around bare foot, seeing no point in hanging his socks to dry repeatedly thanks to their surroundings.
A boxer's physique under his clothes, Will is made for close quarters combat when it comes to the bare knuckles. Muscles are compact and hidden well under his baggy clothes that make him look thin. His skin is that of a beige, kissed by the sun years ago but seeming faded now. Almost like his eyes. Once a most brilliant green, they too have dulled somewhat with time and grief. Stubble covers his cheeks and chin from a shave he seems to have to take every morning.
As for piercings or tattoos, he has nothing of the sort. His body is his temple and to mar it purposefully always seemed like a shame; an additive that wasn't needed. However his fingers are littered with old and new scars, making it hard to curl his pinky finger inward.
First Person Sample:
This was a bloody God-damned nightmare. Who on EARTH would ever put a base on this forsaken soaked shores of wherever the Hell they were, much less two, and have people fight over it? It was a thought that boggled my mind and seemed to follow me every time I woke up to moist air and humid temperatures. It plagued me the very moment I slipped my feet out of bed and felt the damp floorboards beneath me. "I'm gonna give the bloody idiot who ever thought of making camp down here a piece of moy mind if I eva' get a hold of the little bugga." Unfortunately, my 'good' mood seemed to have... Shall I say, 'Dampen' even more when I heard the faint sound of water splashing that only seemed to grow closer before echoing off the roof of his perch. Rain. "Just whot I've always wanted. Just in the wrong stinkin' environment!"
Third Person Sample:
There was a calm that fell over the RED base that he didn't like the feeling of. A silence that made the center of his back crawl and itch. From his spot against the second story window, Will kept a sharp eye out for movement below him. He could hear the wooden planks creak softly under an invisible weight and not a shadow to be cast in this dark day. He wanted to say that it was just the Spooks wandering around again, cloaked for whatever reason, but he couldn't. This feeling... Only Godless men and Monsters could give off such an air, making the fine hairs of his arm stand straight.
Fingers twitched before slowly rolling into his shirt in fists just under his armpits as he cast an uneasy glance behind him. Will withheld the urge to reach for his dagger when he thought he saw something dark shift out of the corner of his eye. Something was very wrong here. Gravely wrong.
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