SHERIDAN, nathan

[NATHAN SHERIDAN]

NATHAN JAMES SHERIDAN

[/blockquote]

I'VE JUST SEEN A FACE

character name: Nathan James Sheridan.

nicknames: "Tendencially, people call me Nate. Seriously, no diminutives, or I swear I'll pound your face inside out."

age: "Twenty-four."

gender: "Male. Duh."

sexuality: "Straight. Though I do find myself dreadfully in love with... well, myself every once in a while. God!, does that make me gay...?!"

pb: Nicholas Potts

THE LONG WINDING ROAD

occupation: "I'm a student. Oxford. In your face."

residence: "Vegas. It's only for a short while, thank heavens."

been in vegas for how long and why: "As previously stated, I'm an Oxfort student, more specifically taking my Law degree. For those of you who are not exactly gifted in Geography, Oxford is in England and is a city where everything revolves around studies. Anyhow, my all not-too smart classmates and I had decided to make a big summer trip this year - our last official holidays together before we got our butts kicked out into the real world and had to work the fuck out of our flesh - and it was decided the destination would be USA. I wasn't exactly happy when I found out they'd decided Vegas of all places would be "just the thing", but I couldn't exactly let that bunch of morons alone in... Vegas. God. Every time I think about it, I wish I had stayed at home reading something really boring. Could be Plato or something like that. Even bloody latin would be more pleasant than having all my mates half stoned, drunk, laid and vomiting all over the place. Not to mention half broke. It's fortunate we can all afford it, or I'm guessing the moment they presented the final bill to Mommy and Daddy, they'd be punctilliously disinherited, or something. For two days, all they've done is gamble, drink, get laid, get a huge hangover, get stoned... Er... Anything else I forgot...? Oh, right. I've just become their babysitter. Because apparently, they're all arses. Period."

FULL OF EXCITING STORIES

likes:

• Himself
  
• England
  
• Studying
  
• Black tea
  
• Reading
  
• Girls
  
• Sex
  
• Rain
  
• Fog
  
• Fireplaces
  
• Mirrors
  
• Hiking
  
• Horses
  
• Dogs
  
• Dark and neutral colors
  
• Antiques
  
• Spotless, perfectly ironed white shirts
  
• Drinking
  
• Smoking
  
• Hunting
  
• Cars
  
• Sports in general
  
• Swimming
  
• Basketball
  
• Hospitals
  
• Silence
  
• Irony
  
• Sometimes causing chaos
  
• Arguments
  
• His friends
  
• His family
  

dislikes:

• Sugary drinks
  
• That thing they call tea in America
  
• Heat
  
• Too much sun
  
• Sun burns
  
• The beach - well, the sand in it
  
• Drunk people
  
• Badminton
  
• Giggly girls
  
• Frivolous girls
  
• Wannabes
  
• People desperate for attention
  
• Drama
  
• Fusses
  
• Whining
  
• Phone calls
  
• Text messages
  
• His ex-girlfriend
  
• Geometry / Drawing
  
• Overly loud and high-pitched noises
  
• Stupidity
  
• Immature displays
  

personality:

• Self-controlled :: This would be the most influential trait of Nathan's personna, the one around all the others revolve. It grants him all his defects - like his somewhat narcisistic atitude - and his best qualities, like the fact that he's always himself no matter what the situation is. Above all, he knows very well who he is, and outwards influences will never make him do anything that he wouldn't in a normal day. He doesn't feel an insane urge to drink or smoke or anything just because everyone else is, and deplores showing off any signs of drunkness - given the fact that he thoroughly dislikes them himself. He doesn't panic, isn't nervous and makes insane fun of those who are, not being able to conceive how some people can be so darned stupid.
  
  
• Narcissistic :: It is a fact that Nathan is completely in love with himself and himself only. To him, any girl who won't instantly fall in love with him the moment she clasps her eyes on him, is definitely a weirdo. Often, that wounds his pride, and he will do anything he can to win the girl, only to ditch her later after his manly ego is restored and, honestly, he's never cared above half for any woman, except perhaps for his mother. Sure, he likes them every once in a while - they provide a vital service to him - but to him, women are just ninny-hammers. Anyways, back to the point. Nathan does like people. He just likes himself more than he likes anyone else, and thinks everyone should do the same and admit his obvious - both physical and mental - superiority. He's the type of guy who can't pass by a mirror and not look, compose his hair and smile smugly before going away. The sort who has inner dialogues praising his own self. Cuz he totally knows he's hot.
  
  
• Chauvinistic :: Nathan's the ever eternal defender of the theory "women are inferior to men", and it isn't very likely that he'll change in a close future. He considers them complete idiots who's only function is to procriate - something he'd do with himself if he could. Women just don't give themselves the respect they would need to in order for him to consider them acceptable. Also, smart women aren't beautiful women, beautiful women aren't gifted ones and smart ones can never be gifted. It's just unconceivable. He's yet to find such a woman, but when he does, he sure as hell will admit women aren't complete idiots. Ok, he'll admit they are complete idiots with a few select exceptions.
  
  
• Serious :: He's the guy who takes life seriously. In every thing he does, he puts his maximum effort and soul, and focuses himself in achieving whatever he wants, without paying attention to any distractions along the way.
  
  
• Sarcastic / Blunt :: He isn't afraid to hurt people. In fact, he often thrives in doing it, and finds people's reactions quite amusing, and will laugh heartily at them. Sometimes, if he thinks the person is worth it, he'll appologize and be adorable - always bickering a bit but not being fully unpleasant.
  
  
• Charming... when he feels like it :: Only when he does. He can be a complete doll sometimes and be a complete arse others, making you wonder whether he has an instability problem, or something like that. He finds it a dreadful sport to make old women adore him - and consequently give him tea and biscuits and others like that - and is absolutely impecable when it comes to his mother, though he often has pettish accesses of bad temper with her. Only to heartily appologize later.
  
  
• Loyal :: Just when he really likes someone. The people he tendentially is loyal to are his mother, his younger siblings, and his friends. The ones who dragged him to LV on the first place and whom he only doesn't leave because he wants to keep them out of trouble.
  
  
• Eldest brother syndrome :: Oh, yes. The eternal issues because of being an elder brother. He's methodical, mature, cautious and insanely worries about people he likes. Also, feels the urge to be the responsible entity, and has no problems with pulling the guilt onto himself when it's his friend's fault. Oh, yes. And he lectures a lot.
  

fears: Generally speaking, Nathan isn't the type to freak out because of things. Sure, he worries a lot about his siblings, especially the girl ones - who knows what those incompetents might do in his absence - and worries about his friends - what if he's not there the next time they decide leaning on a bridge while completely drunk is a good idea?! But he doesn't fear anything about them. Losing his mother is an option, but he's rational enough to know it'll happen sometime, and not really think about it. He has an insane fear of snakes and lizards. Gross little things. In fact, he tends to avoid the reptile zone when he goes to the zoo, out of fear he may barf on location. He's afraid to lose his gorgeous face and bod - thus why he exercises so bloody much - and relatively afraid not to succeed. Though he totally knows he will cuz, ya know. He's the best.

secrets: He lost his virginity to a girl, when he was thirteen, in her closet. With both their parents on the living room downstairs. They were both still kids, and she was absolutely beautiful - though she certainly lacked in brain skills. They had been invited to the girl's place for dinner and they'd been sent to her room for her to show him some scrapbook stuff she'd done - basically to leave the "grown-ups" with their conversations. He'll never find out how on earth he found himself sitting on her closet's floor with her all over him, half-naked and him in not so good of a position either. He still blames it on his hormones and, though he certainly thought it was very fine sex at the time, he now understands they both were insufferable amators. And that he's one hell of a sex god now. Oh, and yes. That he totally cheated on his twelvth grade exams - though there was certainly no need for it.

goals: Nathan wants to be a lawyer, above all. He wants to win gallons of money and be independent from his parents once and for all, and just have his own life. He also wants to have kids to bear his obvious genetic superiority and spread them around the world, though he certainly doesn't know how he'll do it without a woman. He's considered proposing to a woman when he's twenty-six, even one he doesn't love and swipe her out of her feet. Cuz he totally could handle it if he were to find a gorgeous wife who would adore the ground he stepps on.

WHEN I GET HOME

family:

• Mother - Janina Deveraux Sheridan - 42 - Economist
  
• Father - Desmond Sheridan - 48 - Economist
  
• Sister #1 - Alexa Sheridan - 22 - Student in Med
  
• Sister #2 - Serena Sheridan - 19 - High school student
  
• Brother #1 - Tyler Sheridan - 19 - College freshman in Literature
  

history:

"A college lecture. A question. A passionate discussion. Apparently, these three situations in a row lead to insane love, affection and an undeniable mutual lust between two seemingly rational beings.

Tell me about it.

Apparently, that is precisely how my parents met, twenty-five years ago. My mother was attending a lecture at York University given by none other than my esteemed father. According to him, she was rather hot even then - I saw the pictures and I have to agree with him - and he spent the whole lecture eyeing her. Because she was just that much of a piece of eye candy. In the end, for some reason none of them seems to vividly recall, my mother went to him – to ask him a question, according to her – and they ended up having this real heated argument – my mother has an extraordinarily bad temper I’m rather proud to say I have not inherited – where they basically skewered the opposite gender into tiny little pieces. How on earth they managed to do so, I shall never be able to understand – the lecture was about economics, damn it!

Anyways, the argument got so fiery - in the middle of a conference hall filled with about three hundred innocent bystanders - that the most competent people around them dragged them onto a private room, where they continued bombarding one another with every possible indecent adjective they could possibly think about for a couple of minutes. How my father didn’t chicken out and run away screaming for his mother, I shan’t ever know. I know I would. But he didn’t and, apparently, that led to… er… “intercourse” in the room’s desk. No, I shall not develop any further, out of fear I might barf, thank you very much.

They still hated one another, mind you. A lot. In fact, during the few days my father spent in York, chaos arose whenever he was unlucky enough to find Moms. People instantly took shelter, and it was a matter of seconds before crowded corridors became empty, the screams my parents bombarded at one another echoing on the venerable walls of that renowed institution... And they argued about everything, mind you. Someone told me a story about them bursting into heated discussion about the cafeteria's food that day, or something of the same sort. Ridiculous. Either ways, their relations during those fifteen days were dreadfully unstable. They either wanted to wring each other's neck or wanted to just close themselves on some random closet and... er... you know. And in the middle of all that, I was conceived.

Could be worse, I guess.

My mother was from a very strict family. They still are. A few months later, she still corresponded with my father, their letters mashed with insults and arguments. It was in one of them that my mother told him I existed. Something on the lines of "I strongly disagreed with your point in X, etc., etc., I think you are an idiot, etc, etc. Also, you'll be a father in five months. Cheers, Janine."

My dad flew to London the next day. After a couple of days, they were happily weded and arguing on their honeymoon. Five months later, I was born, in London.

Oh well. Happens to the best. That is, to me.

Continuing. My childhood was bloody brilliant. Everyone tended to adore me – hardly difficult to understand why – and I grew up happy style. I had a couple of younger siblings with devious minds to take care of – wonder who they got that from…? – and a whole lot of spazzy neighbours. One of them, Letty, my girl next door, was actually the first one I got laid with. I vaguely remember her parents having invited my parents and I to tea – or dinner, or something – and us hitting it up hard on the closet upstairs. How on bloody earth we didn’t get caught, I shall never know. But whatever.

Highchool was rather amusing, when you come to think about it. Girls were such bitches. Not that they aren't anymore, but they are a little less dumb. Sex, sex, sex. Parties every once in a while... I recall having had a gazillion serious girlfriends back then - dang, I was innocent.

Law College. I just broke up with my rather stable girlfriend of five monts. I decided she wasn't worth the trouble, really. If I had to hear her high-pitched laughter again, I bloody swear I'd shoot the girl, no matter how good she was in bed. Er... I’ll finish taking my degree this year when I go back. And currently in Vegas. Did I perchance mention how I hate Vegas’ guts…?"

pets: "A couple of horses. And a dog I share with my siblings. Guess what...? Yes, they're back home. In London. Not in Vegas."

FROM US TO YOU

ooc name: Kem

age: Seventeen

years roleplaying: Two

other characters: None

how did you hear about us: An add

roleplay sample:

It never ceased to surprize her how darned safe she felt when she was around him, her absolute favourite block of ice. Safe. Comfortable, even. It was almost unnatural, how he made her become less than worried with what might happen to her when he clearly had no intention to do so, and didn't act in any way that might give away any interest for her safety. In fact, she suspected that, asides from the occasional safety lectures he graced her ears with, he rarely even noticed she was even there. However, it was as if that filtering bubble that had once surrounded her and shielded her from the cruelty of the world and its pawns, the one that had been punctilliously popped the moment when "it" had happened... was somehow rebuilt when he was present. Sure, she still kept her gun close to reach anyways. But she didn't feel an insane urge to grasp it and hold it as she always did - the girl barely even slept without a gun, damnit! She didn't feel like she desperately needed it to insure her safety - she didn't need to protect herself from him. He was the sole person in the planet she didn't fear would betray her or threaten her in any way - and the sole one who could if he wanted to, without her even blinking in return. In fact, he could kill her if he wanted to. In fact, he was the sole being to whom she gave that right, to cause her pain. To hurt her. To use her in any way he wanted: as bait, as shield, as... well, whatever he wanted her to be or do, really. Not that she ever implied any of this in any way. Nonetheless, "this", combined with the fact that she firmly believed - or at least wished - that he would never do such a thing, conveyed more security to her than anything else in this confounded world would have been possibly able to give her. He had never failed her before, and that remote corner of her that was still all Nora - the girl that had woken up and saw Gavin for the first time - actually trusted him. How could she not...?

Her eyes fell on that unique object of her affection, the one person she considered close to herself. Aas usual, they weren't saying anything personal, yet she felt as close to him as she had once felt with her parents or dearest friends - though at the time she didn't aim guns at people's heads. And though she had known him for a year, she felt as if that year had been all her life. You didn't need any dialogue to know people, she'd already concluded after those twelve months of dealing with him. All she "knew" about him had been told to her by others - rarely by him. She knew what he liked and disliked because of what he did and acted, and had learned to keep her mouth firmly shut when it came to his personal business. He knew she was there. When he wanted to, he'd tell her. Until then, she only said anything personal when it was directly required of her. Particularly when it was Gavin-wise. Times when he talked to her were so rare that all she did was clutch them and not say a word, out of fear it might end. She never asked, not because she didn't care - of course she did! - but because she didn't want to pry. He did exactly what he wanted. And his like was hard enough without having an annoying "kid" sticking her nose on his business. She knew that much.

Oh yes, they talked. Quite a lot, really. However, generally speaking, they just spat pointless remarks like those they were throwing down, like a tennis match with two players who cared for each other but had no problems with "grand slamming" the ball away. Nex in particular. She didn't usually have much to say - she didn't think her oppinion mattered that much, really, and would rather listen - and most comments she did, those empty, meaningless remarks she spent the time throwing, were just that. Meaningless. They rarely expressed something she was actually thinking, and often might be just the exact opposite of it. Sarcasm combined with an utter desire to create flaming discussions, combined with that mocking facette of hers - that thing that wouldn't be so bad hadn't it been the fact that it was scornfully making fun of other people that generated it - often arose.

His blood didn't bother her in any way - she'd seen far worse during the last year, and she had tagged that wound as a rather pathetic scratch. He was a man, damnit. And if even she who was frail and delicate and very intolerant to any sort of physical pain would bear it without even blinking... well, she confessed she'd respect him very little if he happened to falter because of it. It wasn't even a deep wound anyways, just a mere scratch. A mere scratch out of which a lot of blood rushed out of, but that was a minor detail. The sunligt that creeped into the window traced reflexions on the blood track, causing Nex to raise her eyebrows slightly before turning away her eyes when he cleaned it. Somehow, it seemed like a very personal moment. And, let's face it. She wouldn't have felt comfortable if someone had been looking at her while she cleaned a wound. It would have been absurdly irritating. "Oh, indeed."

[/color] she asserted, a rather prepostrously scornful snort coming out of her snub nose, before she turned her eyes away from him and fixed them on a random point on the wall. "Of how Valor shoots their highly ranked officers when they disturb their leaders's coffee break...? How very sophisticated of you." The side glance she threw him could only be labeled as nasty, any shadow of a smile having long vanished from her countenance as she set her jaw and pursed her lips together. If there was something she abhored, that would be threats. Particularly threats that directly involved her death - something she detested to even think about. She'd been too close to it for her comfort and any dialectic about it drove her out of her mind. She didn't like it. It made her feel uneasy and wanting to clutch her gun again. Instead, she merely grabbed hold of the edge of the table she was leaning against and tightened her grip around it until it nearly ached.

When she finally got back to her "seat", she grabbed the cup of coffee and brought it to her lips, somewhat happy the conversation had been driven to another topic that wasn't her death. Also, Gavin looked outrageously adorable respectful when he scolded. Not that that fact would have the mildest influence in her response. "I had every intention of shooting." she replied coldly, lowering the cup a bit and staring him dead in the eyes for a few seconds, before she finally turned her blue gaze away. «Had it been anyone but you.» Obviously, she would ever add that outloud. The meek mention of his killing her was only too fresh in her mind, and she still wasn't happy about it. It had left a bitter taste on her mouth. She only could return it and hope it hurt him an infinitesimal part of what it had hurt her... No matter how pettish that might be. She kept her eyes firmly fixed elsewhere, one of her arms crossed around her chest as she took a small sip from the cup of coffee she was holding on the other. Of course she heard him fumbling with things but she couldn't care less. At least not right now. Her own death was one of the few subjects she was very sensitive about, and, coming from Gavin's mouth it only became less pleasant, if that was even possible.

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[LONDON!]

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