| Full Name: | *a thin, somewhat scrawny-looking young man glances up from a thick, obviously scientific text book with a jocular grin. He closes the book with a thud and sets it aside, standing* Julio Tomas Borges Guerra, at yer service. Ever'one around here calls me Doc, though, 'cause I'se always tryin' out dif'rent 'speriments an' tha like. That an' the fact that my real name is such a mouthful for most people who dun' speak the language. |
| Age: | *sticking his chest out in an attempt to make himself appear bigger than his thin frame will allow* I'se fifteen years old, thank ya. That don't mean nothin', though. Jest that I could stand to be a little older, huh? I ain't too sure when my birthday is, so I don't make a big habit outta celebratin' it other than addin' another year to my age. I don't see why birthday's are such a big deal.. jest means you survived another year. |
| Appearance: | My appearance..? Well.. I'm kinda thin, not too tall.. dark hair, dark eyes. *Doc is, at a first glance, of decidedly Hispanic origin. Dark black hair, messy and badly needing a trim, hangs down into his large, dark brown eyes. His lightly browned skinis only made darker from the little smudges of dirt and lord-only-knows what else on his cheeks. Ragged garments typical of a newsboy hang on his bony 5'4" frame, too dirty and patched all over from unknown rips and tears. His shoulders and ribs protrude under the material from years of never getting enough for a growing young man to eat. Overall, he has that.. boyishly cute but underfed hangdog look about him* Yeah, I know I ain't too much to look at, but it suits me fine fer now. |
| Background: | I don' know where my parents have got off to, but last I heard they was still in Puerto Rico. When my older sistah Escha left the country to come to America when I was just a little kid, my parents decided it'd be best fer me if I came wit' 'er. She weren't too happy about that, but she let me live wit' her in a crummy little apartment. I grew up there.. no readin' or writin' for a few years, just sticking around and gettin' in trouble. I c'n read and write now, though. When I was thirteen or so, she got sick of all the trouble I kept findin' and kicked me out. I wandered around awhile, then ended up here. Mess Anthony took care 'a me, and he was like a brother to me afore he left. An' dat's all I can think of to say. |
| Relationships: | *he glances to you with a little quirk of his eyebrow before blushing faintly, taking a quick look around before leaning in and whispering to you* Well.. uh.. don' tell anyone I told you this, but I kinda gots a thing for Gwen. ::with a stupid little lovesick smile:: She's jest so pretty and fun to be around. ::coughs, straightening before sinking back down on his bunk:: But fer friends.. Mess was like a brudder to me, so was Cody McGowan, but they's both gone now. I guess Paris Colteaux would hafta be my best friend around here, though. ::comical grin:: |
| Other notes: | Whaddayou mean, other notes? Well, I'se got my nickname to explain more, don' I? They call me Doc in jokin', 'cause I've got this bad habit of tryin' to make things. Y'know, scientific-like things. I usually work outside, 'cause some 'a the things make an awful mess in here. But I'd like ta be a scientist or a doctor or somethin' one day. I read a lot.. science-type stuff and mysteries.. Right now I'm readin' The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes, by that Sir Arthur Conan Doyle guy. It's a real great book. |
