Post by BEN BRADLEY on Feb 8, 2011 0:16:15 GMT -6
( BENJAMIN “BEN” BRADLEY)
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(28, USER, MATTHEW GRAY GUBLER, LEAVES HIS CLOTHES ON THE FLOOR)
(RESERVED, DEPENDABLE, COMPASSIONATE, INTELLIGENT, DISORGANIZED)[/center]
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •
Ben’s birth was something of a surprise, being that he was not due until the end of the month. Understandably, Alan briefly entertained the notion of an April Fool’s joke when he got the call at work that his wife Lora was about to deliver their son at the local hospital. Despite being born nearly a month premature, Ben quickly developed into a happy, healthy baby boy. He positively adored his older siblings, Allison and Lucas, listening to whatever they said with his eyes widened owlishly in his fascination. Although a well behaved child, he was one of those children who would almost constantly ask the question “why?” he was infinitely curious, not satisfied until he had explored and researched it for himself.
At an early age, Ben was faced by the sad loss of both his mother and elder brother. On the night of the accident, he had been staying with his grandparents and did not get to see his mother before she passed away. At the time, he was too young to properly understand it, only acknowledging that mommy and Lucas weren’t coming home anymore. As he grew older, he began to understand his loss and withdrew socially in response, preferring to spend time with his father and sister, rather than his friends. Ben would watch his father when he worked at home, if only to spend time with him, and as such he became very interested in computers. He became enamored with the idea that the Tron arcade game presented; that there were essentially people living within the computer. The idea that there could be a world within a computer was one that greatly appealed to him.
Concerned by his son’s increasingly recluse behavior, Alan pushed Ben to find an extracurricular activity that interested him. Despite initial resistance, he finally did. Ben had hit a growth spurt as he entered high school and could be likened to a beanpole, or perhaps a Labrador puppy, with his thin frame and long, lanky limbs. He found a passion in running track and field. It was also during this time that Ben discovered something else. He had gotten to that age when all young boys begin to notice all the young girls and how they had developed. But Ben didn’t notice. Or rather, he didn’t care to, as his attentions were directed in the opposite direction. Though he did his best to hide his sexuality, eventually he was found out. While his closest friends stood by him, there were those who did not like the idea of a gay boy on their team. On more than one occasion, he would return home from school with a bruised eye and a bloody nose, which he would hastily attempt to clean up before his father got home. He confided only in Allison on the matter. However, eventually Alan found out and confronted Ben about the matter. Ben, petrified that his father would disown him, was shocked when Alan expressed only concern that Ben had allowed his bullies’ behavior to go unchecked for so long. Knowing that his father, sister and friends were backing him, Ben was able to graduate from high school with his head held high, unashamed of who he was.
College proved to be the best years of his life. He pursued his career in computer programming while exploring what the world away from his family had to offer. For his senior project, he wrote a computer security program designed to function as an add-on to the Tron program his father had written years before he’d been born. He named the program Tram—combining both the names Tron and Ram, characters he had grown to love in childhood through an arcade game. After graduating, Ben continued working at Flynn’s arcade, as he had been doing during summers while he was in college, until he applied to Encom. As the story stands, he has been working at the company for a little over six months as a junior programmer, though he will occasionally pick up the odd shift at the arcade if they’re shorthanded and he has the time. He’s far from a Kevin Flynn, but what he may lack in programming genius, he makes up for with hard work. He prefers small groups of close-knit people over large crowds and as such, it takes him a long while to truly feel comfortable around new people. Ben has the unfortunate habit of being extremely disorganized and will sometimes lose important notes in the mess on his desk.
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •
EXPERIENCE ~8 YEARS EXPERIENCE
WHERE DID YOU FIND US TUMBLR!
CONTACT SURELYSHERLOCK@YAHOO.COM
ROLEPLAY SAMPLE PUT IN QUOTES.
Promotions weren’t all they were cracked up to be. Sure you had the general rule of R.H.I.P. to fall back on, but considering all the damn you had to do, a few privileges here and there were practically a god given right. Okay, so the war was over and none of them were risking their necks on the battlefield any longer, but that didn’t mean there was any shortage of work.
“Jeez, I almost wish we were still at war, if only it would save me from all this ridiculous, bureaucratic nonsense,” Artemis grumbled, punctuating her sentence with perhaps more force than was necessary. She paused a moment in contemplation, looking down to the great black hound curled in the large wicker basket by her desk. “That wasn’t too off-color was it?”
The dog, Beschützer, growled up at her in what seemed to be an almost reprimanding manner.
“Fine, fine. I don’t wish we were at war. Happy?” she amended.
Beschützer laid back down to return to his nap, apparently satisfied with this answer. Artemis rolled her eyes with a snort. It would figure, of all the dogs on Planet Zi, she would be saddled with the one that questioned her moral center. Well, whatever. The paperwork wasn’t exactly doing itself.
But she knew—she knew—some of the others were off doing something far more interesting than filling out paperwork on the status of the Cape Castral reconstruction project. Not that it wasn’t important, mind. In fact I was gravely important. The town had been all but obliterated in the wake of the Bloody Deathsaurer’s rampage and the sooner its citizens had their homes back, the better. However, it wasn’t as though the construction was hinging upon her writing up her report. She could afford to take a little break, right? After all, it was nearly three o’clock and she hadn’t had anything to eat or drink save a weak cup of tea from a styrofoam cup and a half a bagel she was certain must have been at least a day old.
Politics could wait.
Reaching up to ensure her tie was properly fastened—the same impeccable Windsor Knot she always used—she then rose from her chair and made for the door, motioning with her head for Beschützer to follow. The large dog came loping up behind her, padding down the polished floors of the corridor in time to her confident strut. She’d return to work in a little bit, just as soon as she managed to put something more substantial in their stomachs. And maybe chatted up her favorite blonde Colonel.
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(My apologies in advance for BradleyFamily!Hijacking. Ben's a character I've been writing with for some time and I decided to tweak him to fit existing user's characters and timelines. Hope that's not too much of a problem, but please let me know if it is. Or, you know, if this is just horrible in general. So... right. o///o;; *runs away*)
THIS APPLICATON TEMPLATE WAS MADE BY JANASAURUS! OVER AT CAUTION!
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