Jamie Mills
Sept 28, 2014 16:48:02 GMT -5
Post by Jamie Mills on Sept 28, 2014 16:48:02 GMT -5
The BasicsName: Jamie Mills
Nicknames: none
Age: 27
Orientation: Heterosexual
Desired Rank/Job: Former Military, currently unemployed
Powers: Cellular Regeneration
Jamie knows very little about his own powers. The ability might have manifested before, but it wasn’t until he stepped on a nail at 13 years old and was brought to the emergency room for a tetanus shot and blood work that he and his family became aware of his status. Jamie was always wary of his ability- never goning so far as to risk real bodily harm in order to test his capabilities. He was, outwardly, a completely normal boy. And if he sometimes found himself wishing he could fly or control objects with his mind, he never said anything.
Despite looking a bit younger than he actually is, Jamie ages at a normal rate, and the act of healing tires him and is the cause for his very healthy appetite. He is not by any means impervious; death can occur from a variety of reasons: old age, beheading, exsanguination, and even things like a drug overdose or an illness. His body will hold on for as long as it possibly can, but even he can’t survive something that attacks his body quicker than he can heal.
Play By:Aaron Taylor JohnsonThe DetailsHair Color:Brown
Eye Color:Blue
Any Piercings?None
Any Tattoos?None
Any Scars?None
General Appearance:
Jamie was never one to stand out in terms of looks. Over the years, as he’s grown into adulthood, the similarities between himself and his father have become more and more apparent. His brunette hair can get unruly if he lets it, and even starts to curl if it’s kept uncut for too long. It wasn’t until he enlisted that he began to cut it short and keep it that way. It was a good move- he doesn’t really have to do anything to it on a daily basis. Jamie is also prone to let his facial hair grow, only shaving once every week or so, or as the mood hits him. He kinda likes the look of it even, and unlike some others, he doesn’t have the problem with patches that don’t grow or grow oddly. He’d be lying if he didn’t admit that he likes the attention he gets when he has a bit of a 5’o’clock shadow too.
His blue eyes are also a replication of his fathers, as is the gift of near perfect vision. His gaze often comes across as cool or judgemental, even when he’s feeling quite amiable. Sometimes people say it looks like he’s scowling, when in fact he’s probably just thinking about something else. Standing at an average 5’11”, Jamie has an equally average build, broad shoulders and quick gait. It’s lucky he finds solace in running and the occasional visit to the gym, because more times than not, he’d rather go out drinking or stay home and do...nothing.
His skin, perhaps the only visible proof that he in fact has the ability to heal, is nearly flawless. Despite the rambunctiousness of his early years, falling out of trees and running in the house (only to inevitably trip and fall- much to his mother’s dismay), Jamie has never kept a scar for longer than a few days or weeks. Jamie knows that unlike most people who will keep their scars, his will disappear with a little time. He figures the same would happen with a tattoo, but hasn’t tested it.
His clothes vary widely, depending on the event. Even though he stopped the weekly ritual of Sunday Church years ago, he still has a fine set of clothes in the back of his closet for family visits, next to the military uniforms that he hasn’t thought to get rid of yet. Mostly, though, Jamie will opt for simple jeans and t-shirts. A bit cliche, but nothing beats comfortable, familiar clothing. However, he quite likes buying new shoes on a regular basis- whether they are boots or sneakers. He figures that’s one thing he shouldn’t skimp on.
Personality:
Jamie is no natural born leader, and would step up to the plate only if necessary. The structure of the military worked well enough for him- why not keep his head down and stay out of trouble? He’s learned to watch and learn from others- best way to learn is to watch the outcome and store it for possible use in the future. It’s this reason that he’s grown fond of people watching to pass the time, and though he wouldn't outright admit it, he has realized he harbors some feelings of resentment towards people who don't necessarily deserve it, as well as the country itself. That being said, how he feels about strangers is in stark contrast to how he feels about those he considers close friends.
Jamie prefers to get to know people before he opens up to them. He'll make acquaintances as needed, but generally takes some time before really deciding whether or not he considers a person a friend. For those he loves, he can be fiercely loyal and protective, though he can also be too forgiving and gullible. He might try to take his time and think things through, sometimes he can be a bit rash in his decisions- perhaps buying a new car with money he could have been putting away for a house, or taking a trip for the hell of it. Jamie would like to think he has a decent sense of humor, though he was never one to be the funny-guy while in school.
He has a few traits that, despite his mother’s persistence to stomp out, have endured. These include clicking his tongue and whistling whenever the desire strikes him, twiddling his thumbs and shaking his leg when he sits for too long. He also inherited his father’s temper and has been known to shout and throw things when he’s angry, but very rarely loses control to the point that he becomes violent. Jamie’s a hard worker with a good work ethic, no matter how he feels. And while it might be difficult to get motivated at times, but once he’s started, he’ll see it through in the end.Your VicesLikes: Food (he’s insatiable); beer (any time of the day, any day of the week); animals (particularly birds, dogs, and Squirrels); the Great Outdoors (Sleeping under the stars, hiking during the rain, he loves it all.); books if they manage to catch his attention; movies if they manage to catch his attention.
Dislikes: Musicals (why is everyone singing all the damn time?); dressing up in fancy clothes; taxes (taking out how much?); overly religious or political people (please, tell him again how terrible of a person he is); the military (Changed his life, and not for the better).
Strengths: Ambidextrous; Fitness- Running specifically; Being a leader, even though he shies away from it; His ability to heal is always a plus.
Weaknesses: He’s a smoker. Not all the time, but he’ll rarely pass up an opportunity to grab a pack; Not always the best judge of character when it come to people he trusts- easily hoodwinked; Unsure about his abilities and is afraid to try and hone them; Short fuse and nasty temper that he regrets every time; but he genuinely cares what people might think of him, and yearns for his mother and father’s approval.
Fears: Death and what ever comes after; God doesn’t exist...or even worse- he does.; has a distinct, quite irrational fear of open water and generally doesn’t like to swim even in regular pools.
Secret: Jamie is suffering from PTSD. He knows it, but he is afraid to let anyone know- lest they think he’s weak.Family TiesFather:David Mills (56, Army Retired)
Mother:Tammy Mills, nee Cunningham (54, Church Volunteer)
Siblings:none
Any Other Important People:Various Aunts, Uncles and cousins that he hasn't really met or spoken to more than a few times. Had a dog he found when he was 8, but had to give him away when the family moved. He’s always on the lookout for another.HistoryJamie Mills was born in a sparsely occupied Army hospital in Fairbanks, Alaska on a blustery November morning. David and Tammy, married some five years prior, had lost their first fetus before even the second trimester, and could not have been happier to welcome their little boy into their lives. They were a close knit family- and fiercely religious. It was difficult for him to make friends when the family could be reassigned anywhere at any time. They moved from Alaska to Texas when Jamie was 5 years old, and again to Colorado when he was 9.
While Jamie might have missed out on some key moments of early childhood, he was a happy enough kid. Maybe a bit on the wild side for his mom’s liking- she would gasp and groan every time he started getting antsy and run round the house (on the times he would fall, he never seemed to stay down long, though), or would bring home stray animals found on his trek through the woods next to their neighborhood, and she attempted to introduce Jamie to children his age during church functions or family-friendly Army events. It was always a bit difficult for Jamie to take a liking to people, though, and while he made a few decent friends that even now he’ll email once in a while, he was more likely to be fine playing by himself.
Colorado was a big change for the family. With the intention of settling down for good, the Mills bought a house. Jamie met many people through his church obligations- even going so far as to sing in the boys choir for a year before pleading with his mom to let him stop. After that, he picked up a various amount of sports- track and field came easiest to him, and the now-teenager often loved nothing more than going out in the crisp Colorado mornings and running. He was jogging up a path one morning, unfocused, when he stepped on a nail that was protruding from the gravel. The two mile distance back to his home was excruciating, and little did he know this accident would radically change his life.
Within two weeks, everything was different. Jamie was off to Hammel. The hug from his mom had been rigid- like she wasn’t sure who it was she was hugging. His father’s had been quick and chilly- which was no more than he expected. David Mills had always been the strong silent type. Well...silent unless he was angry. But when Jamie left for Vermont, his father was silent and still as the grave. He wouldn’t realize until later that his parents thought his “gifts” were... evil- something unnatural bestowed upon him by the devil. They pitied him- loved him, but couldn’t find it in themselves to treat him the same. It was around this time that Jamie’s faith- always a little rocky- left him entirely. But still he tried- tried to please his parents in any way he could, and it was that that made Jamie enlist when he turned 18.
It seemed to work in a sense. David and Tammy came to his graduation from Basic Training, and drove with him to AIT. Perhaps they didn’t always look him in the eye, and perhaps he heard his mother praying for his salvation when they thought he wasn’t around, but Jamie managed to convince himself that things could be more like they were when he was younger. As it turns out, enlisting ended up being the right choice for Jamie- at least he thought so in the beginning. While his status as a Meta was known to his commanding officers and he was watched closely, his day to day life was normal enough. Two years later, he made his first, true friend- someone he could see doing all those buddy-movie deeds with- in Richard Smith. There was no one he’d rather have been deployed with than him.
Three tours, nearly 8 years, and oh how Jamie had dreaded the fourth. He’d seen things he never wanted to see and done things he most definitely never wanted to do. Infact, Jamie and Smith were already planning on declining to re-up once their enlistment ended. Perhaps they’d go to school on the government’s dime? However, one of their first patrols once they arrived would prove to be their last. After a retaliation that left his unit completely obliterated, Jamie’s supposedly dead body was transported back to the States with the others. However, Jamie had been able to cling to life just enough for his body to regenerate- though the extensive damage made it a slow process. In an unprecedented recovery from ‘death’, and after months of red tape, tests and court rooms, Jame was discharged from the Army as a living citizen.
The reunion with his mother and father was heartfelt, but awkward and he barely lasted a month before he grew tired of them- the untrusting looks, ever-absent father, and the constant reminder from his mother that he should spend every possible moment praying to God for guidance. Instead, he made a hasty getaway to the one place where people at least were the same as him. He’ll figure out what he’s going to do later.Roleplay Example(fyi- So I definitely dont usually write this much in my posts. It’s just been so long since I’ve RPd at all that my muse is particularly crazy, and I used this sample as an opportunity to get to know the character a bit.)
The first thing he became aware of was the noise, the low hum of ...airplane engines?
A moment later his ears popped painfully, and the noise was that much louder. Then other pain came- barrelling down on him with such a force that he couldn’t even gasp for air. The attempt only made it worse. His ribs felt like they were burning- hot and cold at the same time, and when air finally expelled from his mouth, his lungs seems to bubble and the hot moisture didn’t escape out in front of him- instead filling the small space around him. Even in his utter confusion, he realized that his eyes were open- the darkness wasn’t caused by his eyelids themselves, but by the box he was in. Fear seized him, the pain of his chest overtook him fully and he lay motionless for what seemed like forever. Eventually his head cleared, his breathing came just a little easier and he placed his cold and tingling hands against the smooth wood above him- testing to see if he could move it but knowing the act was pointless.
He’d tried to think about what was happening, to piece together his last memories before he’d woken up in this blackness. He regretted it when flashes of Smith’s boyish face raced past his mind’s eye and a thick lump formed in his throat. He wished the pain of his sluggish memories didn’t hurt as much as the bodily pain still radiating in hot ropes across his body. Jamie remembered the explosion, then the chaos of people running and screaming in every direction as the gunfire started up. Dazed from the blast, he’d seen Smith looking at him with dull surprise as a blossom of red bloomed from the side of his ruined shoulder. Jamie hauled ass over to Smith’s position, faster than he’d ever gone in his life and grabbed a hold of the straps on his ACU to drag his buddy’s dead weight to the relative safety of a car blown sideways next to a building. Simultaneously he’d shoved his hand on Smith’s wound, as if he could keep the blood in, and fumbled for his radio; shouting into it until his voice wouldn’t work anymore- unsure if it was even transmitting or not.
It all went to black after that, and Jamie was certain that he must have been captured by the enemy. But via plane? Perhaps they were transporting them away from the country, to hold them as hostages where they couldn’t be found. Them. His mind chuckled derisively at his mistake. He knew Smith was dead and it would only be him headed off to this certain doom. Guilt flooded him as he found himself selfishly wishing Smith was here with him, and the pain in his chest flared again. Surely his heart was going to beat right out of his chest
Something had wounded him badly. The process of healing had never hurt like this and he wondered how he could possible fight off his captors like this. Perhaps he was dying. Jamie’s supposed gift had really never been put to the test like this. Perhaps it was more of a curse now. He could somewhere in that peaceful oblivion right now, but he was forced to endure in this pain.
Fate had other plans. Some time after he’d initially woken, Jamie was pulled from a trance by a jolt in his side. He writhed at the pain, shuffling around in his tiny box as if moving would help in the slightest and heard a sickening set of pops, and a few items fell from his body with a muted clatter.
He regained consciousness again when he became aware of the silence around him. Jamie opened his eyes, acutely aware that the popping must have been a rib by the way his breath was coming easier- he no longer tasted the tang of iron in the back of his throat with every exhale. He didn’t have to lay in suspense for long. He heard the sound of men talking in another room, but couldn’t make out what exactly they were saying. Only a few minutes passed before his small jail was rattling, and Jamie was aware of the sound of wood creaking under the pressure of a crowbar. And then a severe blue-white light was blinding him as the lid of his box was thrown away coupled with the exclamation and string of curses as the figure backed away quickly, dropping the crowbar.
Jamie peered out of the box, squinting at the man who had gone from flushed red to sheet-white in a matter of seconds. He looked over at the other man who had come to investigate why his companion was making such a racket. Perhaps if Jamie’s brain were firing on all cylinders, he would have realized what was going on immediately. Instead, he gaped- looking around him at first. He was in some sort of emergency room, the two men were doctors. He looked down, at the source of his immeasurable pain and found his bare chest a muddled mess of warped, raw flesh. The edges of the wound, if they could be called edges, were already attempting to scar- looking stretched and glistening, with tiny bits of metal slowly being pushed from his body like some sort of parasite trying to get out as opposed to in. Then suddenly it all made sense- this was his coffin. Or at least the one used for transport until the family could dish out a ridiculously large amount of money to pay for the fancy one.
“I’m not dead.” His vocal cords felt just as raw as the hole in his chest, and the dryness made him cough- spreading pain like wildfire up and down his torso. Tiny bits of bullets and shrapnel were shaken loose and fell around the other bits.
----
It wasn’t until hours later that Jamie finally had a chance to talk one on one with the older doctor- who had seemed to know of Jamie’s status. The younger had been excused for the evening and left looking relieved. Jamie sat on the edge of the cold metal table, his eyes continued to flicker to the other boxes that were lined up just outside the swinging doors- just barely out of sight, but it was all he could really focus on.
“Got your record here. Says you’re one of those Meta-humans who’s got the ability to heal...” The man had a husky voice, probably a smoker. Jamie watched as he flipped through his file. “Looks like, after they were able to secure the area, they thought the whole unit was….” he paused, as if biting his tongue.
“Corporal Richa-” Jamie muttered lowly
“Corporal Smith was killed in action with the others.” Jamie should have known this doctor was one of those ‘rip the band-aid off quick’ types. Not like this wasn’t something he’d already known, but it didn’t lessen the pain of the statement any less. The doctor seemed to recognize this and his face softened a little.
“Your family was informed you had…” he closed the folder and set it down on the counter next to him before clearing his throat, the man couldn’t even bring himself to really say it- and returning to his original rough detachment. “This is above my clearance, Sergeant. We’ve contacted your CO and we need you to sit tight until we can figure this out.”
Jamie worried his lip and nodded once, finally tearing his eyes away from the other boxes and look over at the old Doctor as he left the room shaking his head.What About You?Name: Morgan
Age: 24
Experience: on and off for many years.
How Did You Find Us? RPG-D
Ready To Play? Yes!
