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 Medic, Foster

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Posts : 32
Join date : 2009-12-21
Age : 27

PostSubject: Medic, Foster   Fri Dec 25, 2009 10:57 pm

Character Name: Johann ???, Medic, Doc, Doctor, Doktor, Herr Doktor

Alt Name: Medic

Age: 47

Gender: Male

Occupation: Hospital head :D

Social Class (high or low): BOTH

Species: Human

In-Game Description: White doctor's coat was kept crisp and clean; red tie and collared shirt folded neatly under the lab jacket, red first aid symbol stitched onto both jacket sleeves. Thick, elbow-length gloves clutched onto a rust-covered, diabolical bonesaw; a syringe crudely implemented within and would've struck fear into the heart of Mengele. Medigun übercannon backpacked on Herr Doktor's back, latching at the front, nozzle at his disposal for quick healing. Knee-high sterile boots wrapped around darkened trousers. Small, circular-framed glasses on the tall German's older face, his age not the only thing coinciding with the graying of his disshelved hair. Sunken eyes watched his friends kill and be killed.

Visual Reference (optional):

Personality: ^^ up there

A Very Brief History: A doctor with "professional" training moved from Germany to the United States to escape persecution and now heads his own hospital?? idk >.>

Roleplay Post Example: i am going to post what i was replying to (in italics) cuz i love these posts..

Heavy came blundering through the tether with a mixed look of confusion and also disgust. Swiping a large hand behind him, he shoved the smaller German man to the back and exclaimed, "Get behind me doctor!!" He was only looking out for his comrade, after all. His small eyes widened as he gazed upon an open seat, and suddenly heaving the large gun he'd been carrying to his burly chest, the man ran faster than most would expect he could. He promptly dove to the unoccupied seat down upon it with a grunt. The large minigun he had been holding was carefully placed in his lap, and he patted it tenderly before casting a forlorn look towards the Medic.

Medic had been following the large Russian bear-like man for quite some time, and continued to with long, articulated steps. And with a quiet grunt, the German was suddenly pushed aside, his glasses almost knocking off the bridge of his nose as he almost lost his footing. The doctor quickly gathered himself, straighting his glasses back into place and he grumbled with a frown, "Dummkopf..." The medic held his medigun by his thigh with a gloved hand, hanging onto it idly. He stopped momentarily to watch the Soviet climb into a seat only to now sit beside his friendly Heavy in a rather stiff position. Doctor gave the Heavy a sideways glance before pressing his lips in a line, "Vat do you vant?"
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Posts : 32
Join date : 2009-12-21
Age : 27

PostSubject: Foster   Fri Jan 01, 2010 8:37 pm

Character Name: Mr. Foster, Foster, Mask.

Alt Name: Foster.

Age: Mid 20s to late 20s.

Gender: Male.

Occupation: Blackmarket gun salesman.

Social Class (high or low): High enough (but don't gloat it).

Species: Human.


Visual Reference (optional):

Personality: Quiet intellect. Knows his weaponry. A little twitchy.

A Very Brief History: Moved from London, England after WWI to follow his "American dream."
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