Name: Daric Storms
Sexual orientation: Straight
Relationship status: Single (He claims living the easy life)
Build: Toned Athletic
Hair: Buzzed, with a 1/2in mohawk cut
Eyes: Light Blue
He wears a leather jacket, quite worn out, with jeans just as worn. Complete with a pair of old converse sneakers. He also carries an old military duffle bag that he basically lives out of. He looks rough and weather beaten, as if he has traveled the roads all his life.
Profession: One-Time Farmhand
Skills: Cooking, Agriculture, Basic First-aid
Items: 2 Change of clothes, a water bottle, some dried foodstuffs, lighter, cooking pan, rather large knife, and some twine.
Hobbies: Hitch-hiking, Looking at women, and catching his meals.
Likes: The easy way, laying about, and finding work
Dislikes: People who talk to much, Police, a dull knife
Character: Drifter. It's what he's done all his life, so it's all he knows. Of course the farm he had been working at since he was sixteen cooled his attitude toward life. So now he's just a drifter, moving along making a living with a pretty easy life.
Background: Daric was born to a mother who had been abandoned by her husband, the cheating bastard had run off with another woman while she was pregnant in he hospital. She did the best she could to raise little Daric and provide for them. It wasn't long before the lifestyle and the grief caught up with her though. Daric was four when he was handed off to the orphanage. His mother just drifted away as she fell even deeper into sorrow. Daric grew to resent his father who had done this to his mother and had ruined his life. What was a pretty waitress supposed to do with a child after she had lost her money to a runaway husband? His resentment continued to grow as he aged. No one would adopt the angry boy who was the troublemaker of the orphanage. The years rolled by, one by one, slowly, yet too fast to remember. Trouble plagued him all his days, nipping his heels like a rat. Destined to end up in the local juvenile correction facility, an old farmer intervened. A boy of fifteen and full of ego, the young Daric tried all kinds of ways to make the old man hate him. Life on the farm didn't reward trouble and many nights Daric went to bed hungry. After a year he decided that hunger was not what he wanted so he worked. He worked his anger into the fields and into his chores. The old man only offered praise and encouragement from day one. Randal was his name. Daric worked on the farm for five years until he grew tired of the simple life. He was a changed man, matured to the world and taught valuable lessons by old man Randal. Who had died days before. Now he drifts from job to job, living a lackadaisical style of life.
Sample Post: *Four years had passed and what had he done? Well walked a lot, that's for sure. He held up his thumb as he shifted the weight of his bag. The car he had signaled to, as most others did just whizzed right on by. Maybe that one in a thousand would show up today, or maybe the one in a million. When some decent looking chick decided to pick him up and have a decent conversation. Think about speed dating. He chuckled out loud and sighed.* Damn all this walking, it's like... *He looks up to the sun* Hot-O-Clock out here.Maybe I'll just sit here for a bit and chill. *Unshouldering his bag, he dropped it lightly to the ground, while dropping himself heavily onto the bag. He leaned back and closed his eyes, breathing in... well... life.*
*A life of his choice, he was proud to say.* Can't get any better than this, walking the roads, going wherever, and not giving a damn. *A shadow crossed his vision and stayed there. He opened one eye, then both as he realized what stood there. A mustache in a suit. A blue suit with a shiny badge.* Well it can definitely get worse... *He muttered. The cop stood there and mentioned something about not being able to sleep so close to a rift, or hitch-hike for that matter, but Daric drowned it out as always. Cops, the scum on the free man's boot. Always sticking to the law and making it harder to walk wherever. Daric might as well listen to the cop while he was there though. He collected his bag and stood. He began to retrace his steps and was awarded with the cop getting back into his vehicle. He could always turn around later.*
*Five minutes later Daric was back to his previous path, the cop having gone on his way, probably to some coffee and donut shop.* Geez, at least the esteemed officers could at least try not to be so predictable... *He displayed his mischievous grin and continued onto the slightly wavering rift in the distance. Sure, it was a gamble just walking through the rift zone, never knowing when it would open up, but who cared about some drifter anyway? He didn't feel like taking the hours to go around it so he continued on, obviously some of the braver folks thought so too, as cars and taxis still rolled on through. He held out his thumb as he walked. Maybe just maybe, fortune might smile on him today.*
Let me know what you think. Also do I need a picture or no?