BARRINGER, percival owen

[percival owen barringer]

F U L L N A M E ,
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Percival Owen Barringer (He was named after his grandfathers)

N I C K N A M E S,
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Percy, Perry & Owen, but most people just call him Jack

A G E ,
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Twenty-four, born on September 17th

G E N D E R ,
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Male

S E X U A L O R I E N T A T I O N ,
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He's a ladies' man with a secret attraction to the menkind

T O W N I E / F A C U L T Y / S T U D E N T ,
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Student

R E S I D E N T I A L C O L L E G E ,
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Davenport

J O B ,
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Journalist/unknown novelist&photographer

Y E A R ,
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Er... senior? I thought they only did that with high schools

H O M E T O W N ,
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Seattle, WA

L I K E S ,
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cigars, old cars, silence, black cats, curled bows, bath salts, big watches, money, tassels, long coats

D I S L I K E S ,
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women(he pretends to like them), dogs, people that never shut up, sunglasses tinted anything but black, informal dressers, giving to charity, starfish, bells, overpowering perfumes, rain

S E C R E T S ,
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well, he likes men, and that's pretty secret. He also hates law, which sucks because that's what he's going to school for.

F E A R S ,
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Losing all of his money and falling in love(which could easily lead to the other, knowing humans)

G O A L S ,
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To remain wealthy, to do the job he loves as well as the job that'll make him money

P E R S O N A L I T Y T R A I T S ,
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serious . skeptical . greedy . impatient . distant . easily irritated . happily solitary . speaks little but deliberately. dark humored . superiority complex .

F A M I L Y ,
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mother; Victoria Barringer, 57
father; Oscar Barringer, 65
brother; Lucien Barringer, 26
sister; Reese Barringer, 21

B E H I N D T H E F A C E ,
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oh hello. my name's WILLOW and i've been role-playing for EIGHT years. PERCY OWEN BARRINGER looks a lot like JOSEPH GORDON-LEVITT and is amongst ZERO other characters i play, and i found this site through SOMEONE ON CAUTION <3

R P E X A M P L E ,
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Jimmy wasn't hungry. This really shouldn't have come as a surprise, as he didn't usually have all that much of an appetite anyway. He could usually choke something down simply for the sake of having eaten, so there would be something in his body keeping him going. But for the past few days, eating had begun to lose its appeal even more rapidly, and Jimmy wasn't able to keep much of it down any more. He visited the mess hall three times a day despite this, taking some food and trying desperately to eat it. Just the smell made him feel ill. Looking at it and impaling it with his fork and thinking about eating it made acid rise in his throat and he just couldn't do it. He'd started eating earlier and later, or rather, visiting the mess hall earlier and later. He went down for breakfast at about five and tried for dinner at around nine. Less people were there in the earlier and later hours to watch him struggle with his food. It was a constant battle nowadays and it was one Jimmy was destined to lose.

Cryptococcal meningitis; an infection common in patients suffering from AIDS, caused by the fungus cryptococcus neoformans, resulting in an infection of the meninx. The meninx is the membrane that covers the brain and spinal cord. This infection causes fatigue, fever, sweats, nausea, headaches, vomiting, and in severe cases, seizures and death. Jimmy wasn't a doctor, but at his last visit to the hospital the specialist working with him gave him her number so that if he had any questions, he could talk to her. He did, and he regretted it. Basically he was rotting from the inside. That was what it sounded and felt like. And when Jimmy considered this, his lack of an appetite really should've been the least of his worries.

But that didn't stop him sitting there. It was starting to get late and he knew he would have to go sleep soon, but it wasn't quite ten yet. He still had a good twenty minutes of sighing, shaking and fidgeting in his seat to go. His plate didn't have a lot on it. There was a little bit of pasta with a creamy broccoli sauce on it and a small handful of carrots. He'd moved the pasta around on his plate several times, arranged the carrots into pleasing shapes and words, but he had yet to actually eat anything.

For the longest time, Jimmy managed to hide the fact that he was sick. He remained visibly healthy for a good while and that made pretending he was alright easier. But as he ate less and worried more, it began to show. His skin was papery and white, the bags under his eyes growing more and more visible. He moved with a slight hint of terrified caution and there was just a weakness to him, which really wasn't a good thing for someone who was supposed to be protecting people. In his own little world when nobody was watching, Jimmy was vulnerable and weak. He was hopeless and falling apart and he couldn't do a damn thing about it. But when he knew people were around, he was just Jimmy. He was grinning and laughing, telling ridiculous jokes and helping people left and right. He should've been an actor.

Jim took a deep breath, filling his lungs until they ached in his chest. His eyes slid shut and he frowned very slightly, holding his breath in. He rocked very gently and hardly noticeably in an attempt to keep himself warm. The mess hall wasn't at all cold, and he was in his thickest pajamas and woolliest socks, but the chills were getting to him. Slowly, the breath left him. Christ. Jimmy opened his eyes and glanced down at his plate. His carrots spelled out 'joy' on top of his pasta, and he smiled. Vegetables always knew just what to say.

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[-- KELLEY]