Post by talyn felicity sloan on Jul 4, 2012 16:48:12 GMT -6
[atrb=style,width: 500px; background-color: B9B9B9; border: 10px dashed #754A4A; border-right: 15px solid #754A4A; border-left: 15px solid #754A4A; padding: 5px, bTable][th] talyn sloan surgical intern, citizen, ginta lapina | |
 the basics FULL NAME talyn felicity sloan AGE & DOB 21 | february 14 HOMETOWN seattle, washington ETHNICITY american LANGUAGES SPOKEN english, italian SEXUAL ORIENTATION straight HAIR COLOR blonde EYE COLOR blue HEIGHT & WEIGHT 5'9 | 114 lbs DISTINGUISHING MARKS very porcelain, solemn features. doesn't smile often, noticeable when she does. | freestyle |
freestyle
"i was born in seattle, washington on valentine's day. romantic, i know. my dad joked about how that was his valentine's day present to my mom, although she didn't really think that was funny. i was their second child. i have an older brother, nicholas. he's a couple years older than me, seven exactly. so that would make him around twenty-eight now. my parents were engaged when my mother was pregnant with him, and she had a a round belly at her wedding. it was four years before i came along. i was the extent of our family tree, however. i don't even remember my mother to be completely honest. she left a while after i was born. one day she went to the grocery store and she never came back, and i have no idea why. nobody knows why, or if they do they didn't bother to tell me. i think it was because i was born with cystic fibrosis and she didn't want a diseased baby. my mother, according to my grandparents, was the type of person who was never satisfied with life. she always wanted more romance, more money, more excitement, more perfection. they apparently weren't surprised she turned out to be a horrible mother, since she'd been a crummy daughter anyway. i never knew the woman, though. i can't say much. i won't lie, however, because i do hate her. i hate everything is and everything she never was.
my dad didn't become a worse parent after this, at least not at first. he was a little absent, a shadow of the man he had been, but he was still there. he worked and he made money, he came home every night and somewhere in between it all he still remembered to pack us lunch for school. he missed my mom though, and i think the not knowing was what got to him the most. he didn't understand why she'd left him, because he thought they had been happy. at first she was considered a missing person, but apparently the police found her and she informed them she was a missing person who did not want to be found. that's all we know about her, that's the last bit of information we heard about her. my grandparents on my mother's side resented her for leaving us. they loved my father. they were from the south, and family meant the world to them. they were the completel opposite of my dad's side of the family; big haired and loud. my dad's parents were very solemn, professional, clean cut people. the wedding must have been a blast.
my childhood was pretty normal aside from my mom leaving. my dad worked for the seattle police department. i never noticed the difference, but my brother would tell me how my dad changed over the years. he didn't necessarily become suicidal, not in the typical sense, but he did throw himself into his work. he did crazy things, pursued danger whenever he could. my brother would always say dad was trying to get himself killed by some third person entity so he could die without feeling guilty of leaving us behind. he lacked any sense of self preservation. i know he loved us, but he was hardly around. nick basically raised me. we took care of each other, but he definnitely took care of me more than i took care of him. nick always resented that he had to put his life on standstill to make sure i had a good one. i think it was because he didn't want me to feel the abandonment he did, he was a lot more hurt than he'll ever let on to. i'll always be grateful to him for everything he did for me, forever. nick is my hero, but i wouldn't be caught dead telling him that.
when i was pretty young i was classified with an eidetic memory. it was pretty obvious considering i was kicking ass in school, so i ended up skipping quite a few grades ahead. what i really loved as a kid, however, was pianos. i loved them. every night when i went to bed i listened to old piano compositions. it was soothing to me, and one of the only things that could calm me down. i took piano lessons as a kid, and i loved it. i was talented at it because i could memorize the pieces with a couple of looks, and i would know it by heart. i knew the keys, the notes, the chords. i loved playing the piano, and it was the only aesthetic thing in my life i ever had a knack for. i had various recitals, and my father never went to a single one. nick was always there though. he has told me on various occassions that he hated how smart i was, that i had this gift and everything seemed to be so easy for me. sometimes i thought he really hated me, because let's face it, the guy has temper issues. but he was always there, no matter what.
i started high school when i was ten years old. i never spent much times at school, i simply went to class and came home. nick was a senior when i was a freshman, and he was incredibly protective of me. no one really messed with me simply because i was his sister. i even remember his friends or girlfriends sticking up for me. i know a lot of kids have trouble being in school so young with so many older kids, but i didn't. it was an enjoyable experience for me, and i loved learning. i really took a liking to biology and various other sciences. i was always an literature fan as well, so i liked english, but science was my passion. i liked it all, biology, chemistry, physics. anatomy was my favorite though. i loved anatomy, i loved the human body. everything was so unpredictable. you could do the same procedure with various different patients, and there were so many different reactions and ways it would turn out, all depending on the person. i also liked the challenge of unusual cases, it was intriguing to me, the mystery of it all. i didn't like knowing everything, believe it or not, so i welcomed unpredictability with open arms. i knew medicine was my calling at the age of ten.
things got sticky later on. my dad had been on a downward spiral all this time. he ended up getting himself shot, and thus he had to take some time off work. during this time he started drinking profusely. it was a little ridiculous, but nobody could stop him. nick had just graduated and it was over summer. i was eleven when it happened. nick was at work one night, or well on his way home. his shift ended at ten, and i remember it was 10:14. i was already in bed, because well, i was eleven. i had always been a very light sleeper, so when i heard my door shut all of a sudden, i woke up. my dad was there in my room, a bottle in his hand. he was obviously wasted, because i kept asking him questions, but he wouldn't answer them. or well, he would and the answers didn't make sense. he sat on my bed and kept asking me if i loved him. now i wasn't a stupid kid, obviously, and he was scaring me. he told me not to be scared, but that wasn't exactly comforting. i remember him touching me, and then pinning me down on the bed. he told me to be quiet, but i wasn't stupid. i was not stupid. so i screamed at the top of my lungs. he was trying to undo his pants when he back handed me across the face for screaming. i blacked out for a second, but i could hear nick. he just got home, and he heard me screaming. he ran in and immediately understood, throwing a punch directly at my dad. my dad got one good punch in before nick kicked his ass. nick had always been the sporty type, he was strong, he worked out a lot. my drunk father never stood a chance. nick called the cops afterward, and i was in shock. i couldn't stop coughing. i know, i didn't cry, but i cough. blame the cystic fibrosis. i ended up coughing up some blood and when the police arrived to take my dad into custody, nick rushed me off to the hospital.
that was the last time i ever saw my dad. he went to jail afterwards, and we never went to visit him. i had a big swollen cut on my cheek from his wedding ring for weeks afterward, and nick had a black eye. we were a sad bunch. nick ended up getting full custody of me and we moved out of that house and into an apartment. like i said, i'll always be grateful for him. god may not have given me much, but he gave me nicholas. as far as parents were concerned, i didn't have any. richard and loretta sloan, they had been my parents, and yet i didn't think of either one of them as my parents. i shared their blood, their dna, and that was it. the only thing they had ever given me in life was a chronic disease that would kill me when i was in my thirties. so i hated them, both of them. nick was my family. i lived with him throughout high school and college. time flew by, and i always stayed in seattle. i loved the city, and it was my home, despite everything. i went jogging a lot, sometimes with my brother, sometimes on my own. running was how i cleared my head, because i had this awful habit of overanalyzing everything. i was very cynical, always had been, and i always assumed there was a deeper meaning or an underlying motive. however, when i ran, all i was doing was running. long legs made me pretty fast, and it was also good for me. one way to keep cystic fibrosis at bay was excercise. it kept my lungs clear and my airways smooth, and i'll probably be healthier for longer because of it, although i don't expect to live past thirty-seven, but that's more than a decade away.
when i graduated high school i went to the university of washington. i was fourteen when i started out there. i did fine, finishing top, or close to it in all of my classes. nick was still overprotective, so i never really had friends. i guess he knew i would just get into trouble. when my senior year rolled around, however, i applied to live in the dorms. it was about time my brother had some space, and i was seventeen. there would be seventeen year old freshmen in the dorms. i graduated top of my class at seventeen years old, and i was accepted int the university's medical school program, so i continued my education there. i loved medical school, and i loved learning. i excelled even more, mostly because iw as passionate about it. i lived on my own, but i still spent a lot of time at my brother's house, meeting his current girlfriend or his buddies from work. we never stopped being close, we still haven't. i was never really social aside from him. i'm somewhat apathetic. a lot of the time i feel empty, nothing. compassion comes out on occassion, or well, its always there, but its never prominent. i pretend a lot, to laugh and smile and understand jokes. i pretend to like people, when in reality, i'm not that friendly. i've always been the awkward younger girl, and my parents sure did a number on me. i wasn't a complainer though, i never complained, and i never talked about myself. i was robotic, and maybe that was why surgery was my calling.
i was a little wild during medical school. i was eighteen at that point and i had never had a chance to be reckless before, so i was. i did stupid things with stupid people, and i slept around a bit. i have never actually been in a relationship though; no interest. of course my brother still thinks i'm as innocent as can be, but he doesn't need to know that. half the time i'm just trying to force myself into feeling something. i'm neurotic though, so i often find myself fumbling over words and phrases, trying to not be completely overtaken in awkwardness. i can't help myself. especially when i'm being yelled at or under pressure. its different during surgery though, because surgery is my domain. its the one place i can be completely calm and collected, even when under pressure. that, and while playing piano. its calming, in the most peculiar way. i'm determined though, and willing to do whatever it takes to keep my patients alive. i'm afraid i could get attached to them. while i have to force my emotions around people i'm accustomed to, i do feel for strangers. i'm empathetic. i can't explain it, but that's the way my brain works. they say there is a balance between being a statue and a compassionate doctor, however, and i think i could achieve that balance. this is my dream.
i know i can be an asset for the medical program here at valkyrie hospital. i admire various of the doctors there, and the reputation of the hospital is highly praiseworthy.i look forward to learning under your staff. i spent my entire life in seattle, only leaving to visit family, or go on vacations, and even that was rare. twenty-one years in the same city, and i'm ready to continue my residency in a new place with new people. i'm willing to learn, and i know i can make a good name for the hospital."
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the player
ALIAS becca.
YEARS OF EXPERIENCE two hundred and forty seven.
OTHER CHARACTERS avengers assemble.
HOW'D YOU FIND US? the great divines.
RP SAMPLE
YEARS OF EXPERIENCE two hundred and forty seven.
OTHER CHARACTERS avengers assemble.
HOW'D YOU FIND US? the great divines.
RP SAMPLE
summer lovin', had me a blast.
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