Post by Damien Orddman on Jan 27, 2016 15:05:06 GMT -5
Full Name:
- Damien Orddman
Aliases:
- Someone probably called him "Doctor" at one point.
Avatar Photo:
- Taylor Nichols (Link)
Age:
- 35
Gender:
- Male
Appearance:
- Damien's hair is thinning and starting to turn grey from stress. Normally this is a little unusual, so very young, but for a surgeon in the apocalypse a little stress is understandable. His face is marked by scrapes and cuts in his attempts to keep a beard from growing. A stash of good razors goes a long way if you make them last! He's rather thin and lean, standing around 5'9" and looking like a strong wind could knock him over. He's commonly seen wearing his painfully white doctor's coat overtop his cream colored suit that is definitely starting to wear away from 2+ years of apocalypse use.
Occupation (studies and job before the outbreak):
- Surgeon - Trauma/Orthopaedic speciality. Worked at the Central Maine Medical Center.
Hometown (city, state, country):
- Auburn, Maine, USA.
Relationships (relatives, friends,...):
- Mother, Rebecca Orddman (Presumed Deceased)
- Father, Harold Orddman (Status unknown)
- Anastasia Sinclair (Quasi-friends by necessity)
Weapons (currently in possession):
- M9 Beretta (12 rounds, counting the one in the chamber)
- Scalpel (Technically counts as a weapon)
Items (clothing, backpacks, first-aid kits, etc...):
- Doctor's white coat (painstakingly kept clean, though patches of grime and mud are starting to accrue as it's just impossible to keep it clean!) along with other assorted clothes.
- Doctor's Bag (Containing local anesthetics, spare scalpels and various surgery tools)
- Repurposed school backpack.
- 3 bottles of water, carefully boiled.
- 1 bag of potatoes
- 3 notebooks, filled with notes and one pen running out of ink.
- 1 satchel filled with video tapes. Good for playing back in a camcorder or VCR. Yes, VCR. Everyone stole all the stuff that recorded onto DVDs.
-1 spare magazine. 15 rounds loaded inside.
Mode of transportation:
- Foot. Used to have an old Jeep, but he wasn't a very good mechanic and it broke down after too many trips into Auburn and Portland.
List 3 or more good personality traits:
- Studious.
- Curious.
- Realistic.
List 3 or more bad personality traits:
- Poor empathy.
- Lack of ethics.
- Controlling.
List 3 strengths:
- Great surgeon - A great surgeon when he still practiced. He still practices on survivors who might assist him.
- Quick Learner - Watching your scrub technicians get eaten tends to mean you learn how to do a lot of stuff on your own, fast.
- Can't panic - Damien's work has given him nerves of steel. When the chips are down, his head stays...mostly level.
List 3 flaws:
- Physically Frail - You thought nerds were weak? Damien struggles just holding one bag of potatoes in a backpack. A single walker can easily overpower him.
- Ruthlessly efficient - A lack of empathy combined with a shaky taking of the oath means he only helps when he needs to.
- Quick to anger - While he won't panic, people not listening or things not going his way leads him to becoming very angry, very quickly.
Describe your character's life before the Apocalypse:
-Damien Orddman was the star of his medical class. When he had been born, he seemed like a normal kid. He loved visiting the doctor, he was always asking what tools did which. In school he learned that only "special" doctors could really save someone's life. They were called "sir-gee-ons." He eventually discovered what they really were and also how to spell them. While he was not popular in school due to his odd nature and poor temper, that did not stop him from excelling academically. He was always a pretty sharp witted guy.
Medical school wasn't a problem to him, it was where he shined brightest of all. He devoted himself fully to operating table. He learned every tool and every purpose. He passed anatomy classes with flying colors, his notes more detailed than even the professor's- he had done all extra credit available.
When he finally became a practicing surgeon, it was one of the few times people saw him genuinely smile. In the operating theatre, he was like an artist. He could save anyone whose injuries fell within his particular field. Legs snapped in half? He couldn't save the leg of course, but he could save the person. What mattered to him was total costs. Better to lose the leg and save the person, in his view. His scrub technicians and assisting doctors soon learned to listen when he ordered- he was quickly becoming one of the top doctors in the state, let alone the country! It seemed like things were really looking up for Damien.
What happened to your character on Outbreak Day?:
- Outbreak day put a halt to the rising star. Damien was spared seeing any patient zeroes for the first few hours. He was locked away in the surgery room. The tools were sometimes hard to use, but Damien never minded. That's why he had assistants! And boy did they obey. Only today would be different. When the patient was saved, another was brought in. This one had large bite marks across his body, and the leg was a mangled mess. Nothing Damien couldn't handle...Except he noticed something weird. The bite marks, to him, appeared human in nature. While he didn't waste time closing the injuries, replacing lost blood, and trying to figure out how to fix mangled muscles, it continued to bother him the whole time.
That's when one of his technicians pointed out the man had died two minutes ago. Damien was in shock. He had never lost a patient before. He demanded an answer, but he already knew. That much blood loss and trauma, it would have taken a team of top surgeons to save the man.
Then the man lept up and ripped the nose off the closest nurse.
Panic broke loose inside the operating theatre. Well, not for Damien. He very calmly took a nearby scalpel and jabbed it through the patient's head, right behind the ear. The patient fell back, finally dead, and he immediately ordered the nurse put on the table instead. When no one listened, he started yelling, and they hopped to it. Working on facial trauma was definitely not his speciality, but it wasn't like they had time to bring in another doctor- or question the fact Damien had just killed someone. Maybe he had already figured out he would have to aim for the head, or maybe he was just annoyed at someone daring to die on him when he was operating on them.
The nurse was saved, but she was doomed for obvious reasons. Damien opened the door to the theatre, and suddenly there were more of those things, those biters, shuffling towards them. He bowed his head to his team, advised them to exit quickly, and then proceeded into the hallway, neatly sidestepping the few starting biters that the plague had produced. His team was less lucky. He watched them get torn to pieces, and then in turn, tear each other to pieces as more biters flooded into the hospital.
Not a wonderful day for Damien.
He escaped that day by sacrificing the lives of people he could have saved. There wasn't really anything personal about it, he just rationalized that if he attempted to help someone, he would die. If that hadn't been a factor, he truly would have helped! Honestly!
He escaped to the countryside, grabbing tools from the hospital before he left. He sensed he would need them.
Describe your character's life after the Apocalypse:
- Damien set up shop in the countryside. Specifically, in the nearby national forest. Fortunately his home was far enough away to avoid most walkers, while being close enough to a rural area that he could reliably catch them. He had taken the liberty of raiding a library while the librarian was busy getting eaten and had taken several thick books on virology, anatomy, and the human immune system. He took a pistol from a soldier who saved his life before getting bitten on the ankle by a lurking biter. The man had freely given it to him and asked to be put down. Damien complied, and he felt a little bad for a while. Then he pushed those feelings aside, there was work to be done!
His "clinic" became a small cabin, long unused since the last owners had died of natural causes. Their basement would work as a decent operating room. From his cabin, he would foray into the world of the walkers. He couldn't carry many supplies- so he learned to farm. It wasn't that difficult, in his opinion, though he was probably pretty bad at it in actuality. Still, he learned to grow his own food- mostly potatoes. They were very hardy. He also set up raincatchers and regularly visited the nearby river for food. He had the perfect setup for his plan.
Every so often, with careful preparation, he would kidnap a live walker and drag it down to his basement. There, he would record his experiments on attempting to "cure" them. It was difficult without proper virologist equipment. It was just plain out of his field! But he figured that the more he learned, the more he could do when he got real equipment. He studied how the flesh decayed, how the brain seemed to change. He kept careful records of what he did. Sometimes he found bite victims. He attempted to save a few, irritably noticing that each bite was always fatal.
It took a few months of work, but he eventually discovered that quick amputation could save a bite victim. But the resulting cost in care for them was awfully high, and he didn't need that drain. It sounds really, really evil and edgy, but to him it was a numbers game. He never amputated bite victims after the first success, he simply helpedthem be at peace. Sometimes a survivor would need his help, and from this he would get what he needed that he otherwise could not. For fixing a leg, he would ask- very pointedly- for the survivor to get something from a hospital for him. Else he would not lift a finger to save them next time. This worked sometimes, but too often the survivors disappeared, so this too he stopped doing.
So, for two years, he labored. For two years he experimented, each failure at a cure driving him even closer to the brink of unending fury. Why couldn't he control this? Why did this thing resist him so much? No matter how many bite victims he documented, no matter how many corpses he autopsied, there was nothnig he could do. It was really quite annoying!
Towards winter of the second year, he was growing weak. He had never been a physically strong man. It was getting harder to do anything requiring physical force. He needed an assistant. He ventured out again and came across something that could help him. It was a survivor, a woman, who had fallen and broken her ankle. Her inability to keep quiet was drawing a lot of walkers, so Damien shrugged and shot the closest ones before dragging her back with him. It was the last journey his salvaged Jeep managed out of Portland. At least she had blacked out and was quiet the whole trip back.
He fixed her ankle- luckily it wasn't a bad break, she would be fine in time. But she needed to recover for a few weeks. He let her know that he needed an assistant. She could stay and recover, as well as learn, if she chose. Else he would just have to kick her out the door and wish her the best of luck. He was kind of a dick in that way.
- Damien Orddman
Aliases:
- Someone probably called him "Doctor" at one point.
Avatar Photo:
- Taylor Nichols (Link)
Age:
- 35
Gender:
- Male
Appearance:
- Damien's hair is thinning and starting to turn grey from stress. Normally this is a little unusual, so very young, but for a surgeon in the apocalypse a little stress is understandable. His face is marked by scrapes and cuts in his attempts to keep a beard from growing. A stash of good razors goes a long way if you make them last! He's rather thin and lean, standing around 5'9" and looking like a strong wind could knock him over. He's commonly seen wearing his painfully white doctor's coat overtop his cream colored suit that is definitely starting to wear away from 2+ years of apocalypse use.
Occupation (studies and job before the outbreak):
- Surgeon - Trauma/Orthopaedic speciality. Worked at the Central Maine Medical Center.
Hometown (city, state, country):
- Auburn, Maine, USA.
Relationships (relatives, friends,...):
- Mother, Rebecca Orddman (Presumed Deceased)
- Father, Harold Orddman (Status unknown)
- Anastasia Sinclair (Quasi-friends by necessity)
Weapons (currently in possession):
- M9 Beretta (12 rounds, counting the one in the chamber)
- Scalpel (Technically counts as a weapon)
Items (clothing, backpacks, first-aid kits, etc...):
- Doctor's white coat (painstakingly kept clean, though patches of grime and mud are starting to accrue as it's just impossible to keep it clean!) along with other assorted clothes.
- Doctor's Bag (Containing local anesthetics, spare scalpels and various surgery tools)
- Repurposed school backpack.
- 3 bottles of water, carefully boiled.
- 1 bag of potatoes
- 3 notebooks, filled with notes and one pen running out of ink.
- 1 satchel filled with video tapes. Good for playing back in a camcorder or VCR. Yes, VCR. Everyone stole all the stuff that recorded onto DVDs.
-1 spare magazine. 15 rounds loaded inside.
Mode of transportation:
- Foot. Used to have an old Jeep, but he wasn't a very good mechanic and it broke down after too many trips into Auburn and Portland.
List 3 or more good personality traits:
- Studious.
- Curious.
- Realistic.
List 3 or more bad personality traits:
- Poor empathy.
- Lack of ethics.
- Controlling.
List 3 strengths:
- Great surgeon - A great surgeon when he still practiced. He still practices on survivors who might assist him.
- Quick Learner - Watching your scrub technicians get eaten tends to mean you learn how to do a lot of stuff on your own, fast.
- Can't panic - Damien's work has given him nerves of steel. When the chips are down, his head stays...mostly level.
List 3 flaws:
- Physically Frail - You thought nerds were weak? Damien struggles just holding one bag of potatoes in a backpack. A single walker can easily overpower him.
- Ruthlessly efficient - A lack of empathy combined with a shaky taking of the oath means he only helps when he needs to.
- Quick to anger - While he won't panic, people not listening or things not going his way leads him to becoming very angry, very quickly.
Describe your character's life before the Apocalypse:
-Damien Orddman was the star of his medical class. When he had been born, he seemed like a normal kid. He loved visiting the doctor, he was always asking what tools did which. In school he learned that only "special" doctors could really save someone's life. They were called "sir-gee-ons." He eventually discovered what they really were and also how to spell them. While he was not popular in school due to his odd nature and poor temper, that did not stop him from excelling academically. He was always a pretty sharp witted guy.
Medical school wasn't a problem to him, it was where he shined brightest of all. He devoted himself fully to operating table. He learned every tool and every purpose. He passed anatomy classes with flying colors, his notes more detailed than even the professor's- he had done all extra credit available.
When he finally became a practicing surgeon, it was one of the few times people saw him genuinely smile. In the operating theatre, he was like an artist. He could save anyone whose injuries fell within his particular field. Legs snapped in half? He couldn't save the leg of course, but he could save the person. What mattered to him was total costs. Better to lose the leg and save the person, in his view. His scrub technicians and assisting doctors soon learned to listen when he ordered- he was quickly becoming one of the top doctors in the state, let alone the country! It seemed like things were really looking up for Damien.
What happened to your character on Outbreak Day?:
- Outbreak day put a halt to the rising star. Damien was spared seeing any patient zeroes for the first few hours. He was locked away in the surgery room. The tools were sometimes hard to use, but Damien never minded. That's why he had assistants! And boy did they obey. Only today would be different. When the patient was saved, another was brought in. This one had large bite marks across his body, and the leg was a mangled mess. Nothing Damien couldn't handle...Except he noticed something weird. The bite marks, to him, appeared human in nature. While he didn't waste time closing the injuries, replacing lost blood, and trying to figure out how to fix mangled muscles, it continued to bother him the whole time.
That's when one of his technicians pointed out the man had died two minutes ago. Damien was in shock. He had never lost a patient before. He demanded an answer, but he already knew. That much blood loss and trauma, it would have taken a team of top surgeons to save the man.
Then the man lept up and ripped the nose off the closest nurse.
Panic broke loose inside the operating theatre. Well, not for Damien. He very calmly took a nearby scalpel and jabbed it through the patient's head, right behind the ear. The patient fell back, finally dead, and he immediately ordered the nurse put on the table instead. When no one listened, he started yelling, and they hopped to it. Working on facial trauma was definitely not his speciality, but it wasn't like they had time to bring in another doctor- or question the fact Damien had just killed someone. Maybe he had already figured out he would have to aim for the head, or maybe he was just annoyed at someone daring to die on him when he was operating on them.
The nurse was saved, but she was doomed for obvious reasons. Damien opened the door to the theatre, and suddenly there were more of those things, those biters, shuffling towards them. He bowed his head to his team, advised them to exit quickly, and then proceeded into the hallway, neatly sidestepping the few starting biters that the plague had produced. His team was less lucky. He watched them get torn to pieces, and then in turn, tear each other to pieces as more biters flooded into the hospital.
Not a wonderful day for Damien.
He escaped that day by sacrificing the lives of people he could have saved. There wasn't really anything personal about it, he just rationalized that if he attempted to help someone, he would die. If that hadn't been a factor, he truly would have helped! Honestly!
He escaped to the countryside, grabbing tools from the hospital before he left. He sensed he would need them.
Describe your character's life after the Apocalypse:
- Damien set up shop in the countryside. Specifically, in the nearby national forest. Fortunately his home was far enough away to avoid most walkers, while being close enough to a rural area that he could reliably catch them. He had taken the liberty of raiding a library while the librarian was busy getting eaten and had taken several thick books on virology, anatomy, and the human immune system. He took a pistol from a soldier who saved his life before getting bitten on the ankle by a lurking biter. The man had freely given it to him and asked to be put down. Damien complied, and he felt a little bad for a while. Then he pushed those feelings aside, there was work to be done!
His "clinic" became a small cabin, long unused since the last owners had died of natural causes. Their basement would work as a decent operating room. From his cabin, he would foray into the world of the walkers. He couldn't carry many supplies- so he learned to farm. It wasn't that difficult, in his opinion, though he was probably pretty bad at it in actuality. Still, he learned to grow his own food- mostly potatoes. They were very hardy. He also set up raincatchers and regularly visited the nearby river for food. He had the perfect setup for his plan.
Every so often, with careful preparation, he would kidnap a live walker and drag it down to his basement. There, he would record his experiments on attempting to "cure" them. It was difficult without proper virologist equipment. It was just plain out of his field! But he figured that the more he learned, the more he could do when he got real equipment. He studied how the flesh decayed, how the brain seemed to change. He kept careful records of what he did. Sometimes he found bite victims. He attempted to save a few, irritably noticing that each bite was always fatal.
It took a few months of work, but he eventually discovered that quick amputation could save a bite victim. But the resulting cost in care for them was awfully high, and he didn't need that drain. It sounds really, really evil and edgy, but to him it was a numbers game. He never amputated bite victims after the first success, he simply helpedthem be at peace. Sometimes a survivor would need his help, and from this he would get what he needed that he otherwise could not. For fixing a leg, he would ask- very pointedly- for the survivor to get something from a hospital for him. Else he would not lift a finger to save them next time. This worked sometimes, but too often the survivors disappeared, so this too he stopped doing.
So, for two years, he labored. For two years he experimented, each failure at a cure driving him even closer to the brink of unending fury. Why couldn't he control this? Why did this thing resist him so much? No matter how many bite victims he documented, no matter how many corpses he autopsied, there was nothnig he could do. It was really quite annoying!
Towards winter of the second year, he was growing weak. He had never been a physically strong man. It was getting harder to do anything requiring physical force. He needed an assistant. He ventured out again and came across something that could help him. It was a survivor, a woman, who had fallen and broken her ankle. Her inability to keep quiet was drawing a lot of walkers, so Damien shrugged and shot the closest ones before dragging her back with him. It was the last journey his salvaged Jeep managed out of Portland. At least she had blacked out and was quiet the whole trip back.
He fixed her ankle- luckily it wasn't a bad break, she would be fine in time. But she needed to recover for a few weeks. He let her know that he needed an assistant. She could stay and recover, as well as learn, if she chose. Else he would just have to kick her out the door and wish her the best of luck. He was kind of a dick in that way.