Post by Ensign Doherty on Jun 9, 2009 11:49:33 GMT -5
What other characters do you play here? None
Have you been a member before? If so, please state what character you played. Nope, first time
Name: Michael Joseph Doherty
Aliases: Joe, Mikey
Age: 20
Affiliation: Starfleet
Personality: Incredibly cynical and pessimistic when it comes to dangerous situations he has earned the reputation of a worrier amongst most of the other security members, and the stigma of a coward by those few that dislike him. Ensign Doherty, as he is known to his team mates has, like most people, a complex and at times contradictory personality. He is generally a kind and open hearted individual. He tries to keep his opinions to himself and search for the good in everyone, even if it doesn’t look like there is any. As a result, Michael has had his trust taken advantage of on several occasions. This hasn’t necessarily changed who he is, but the bright eyed luster that he used to sport so vibrantly has dulled noticeably. He takes everything with a grain of salt, and after almost a year of being looked down upon thanks to his less then spectacular intellectual ability, some would say he has become rather jaded towards the Starfleet Academy elite. He doesn’t hesitate to show his disdain for people who flaunt their knowledge or their popularity, and while he might say he simply has nothing in common with them, the truth would be closer to his envy of their position in the unofficial hierarchy that human beings seem to subconsciously create.
Michael’s somewhat self imposed status as the quiet guy who spends to much time reading dusty old books, combined with the low self esteem created by feeling that his abilities are inadequate have given him the impression that he isn’t popular or well liked, and whether or not this is the case he has taken a habit of going out of his way to prove himself worthy of the respect of his peers. Effectively making him an errand boy. If you need something done that you don’t feel like doing, ask Michael, if you need a fall guy, blame Mikey. Sure he suspects that he is being used, but he likes the idea of his being needed, and that combined with his natural compulsion to help, has set him down a disappointing path. He has had precious few real life combat experiences prior to being stationed aboard the Enterprise, most of which revolve around him trying not to get in the way, and what little good he has done, involved him taking selfless and uncharacteristically stupid moves in attempt to defend those in danger.
Michael is a surprisingly low key and understanding individual. He doesn’t mind waiting, though he has a tendency to get “antsy”, switching his posture and checking the time every fifteen seconds. He doesn’t get mad at his friends and tries to separate himself from his emotions as much as possible. Unfortunately, just because he doesn’t recognize an emotion, doesn’t mean they don’t effect his actions. Whenever things get to hard for him, he erects his emotional walls, often time sitting alone staring into space, looking despondent and worn out. He doesn’t cry, hasn’t since he was twelve and received the family, “it time to be a man” speech from his grandfather. He was taught to maintain his resolve and stiff upper lip, let bygones be bygones and forgive even when you really, really would rather go crazy and beat someone to a pulp. While he was sure to always appear to be in control of any situation he was in, it wasn’t until recently that he began paying attention to the rest of the speech. The part of the speech about not holding grudges was much harder in practice then in theory. If anything, the Michael that exists today focus’s too much on what he could have done and not enough on the good that he has done already.
As far as romance is concerned Michael has stepped away from his once rampant skirt chasing. Sure, he still looks at pretty girls, but his confidence has been so damaged that even if they flirt with them he often won’t recognize it as flirting, and remain completely oblivious until they actually make a move. As a result many girls tend to think he is a stuck up pretty boy, and write him off as wasted goods. Even if he did get a girlfriend, he wouldn’t be able to keep them for long as his endeavor to perfect himself leaves little room for things like love and the other fuzzy feelings women would normally elicit from a young man.
Species: Human
Physical Description:Michael, while having a noticeably athletic build lacks the height and bulk most people would consider intimidating. Naturally, this is a disadvantage considering his chosen profession. He is of Irish/English descent and has the fair skin and soft bone structure of his mother. He has only one noticeable scar on his body, a thin line which runs from his clavicle to the center of his chest. Mike stands at five feet nine inches and has the build of a casual runner. Thanks to his routine work out schedule he has managed to keep a respectable amount of muscle though it is usually far less then his counterparts. His eyes are bright blue and his hair is a sandy brown that is rarely combed. As far as fashion is concerned he gets his aesthetic tastes from his grandfather. He is often seen sporting green track jackets with white strips and a black undershirt paired with well used jeans. Of course the only time you will see him in this outfit is on an extended shore leave, so he will most likely be seen in his Starfleet uniform looking dashing in his bright Red Shirt.
Division: Security?
Rank: Ensign
Ship: USS Enterprise NCC-1701
History: Michael Doherty was born in the far reaches of Minnesota, one of Earth’s North American regions. Surrounded by the wonders of nature, massive waterfalls, dense forests, seemingly endless amounts of mosquitos, young Doherty spent most of his childhood outside. By the time he was twelve he had learned a number of old tricks used for wilderness survival, and even how to shoot a rifle accurately. His family was far from wealthy. His father being a minister in a time of science, as well as isolated in the small town of Fon Du Lac had few members for his congregation and as such his family lived in what most people would have considered poverty. The truth however was that they had a strong familial bond and enough money to survive on, which was all that the small town boy could have asked for. At least until he first saw the images of Starfleet recruitment posters. Up until that point he had never been very successful at school, namely because he rarely went. As his mother would later state, Michael was the best C student in the State. This was mostly due to the fact that as far as Michael was concerned a C was passing, and would only work hard enough to maintain the less then impressive average.
Enthralled by the concept of endless adventure across countless worlds his fate was more or less determined in the moment he saw those posters. He was going to become a part of Starfleet, what that part would be he didn’t know, but one way or the other, he was getting on those star ships. Unfortunately, the educational system he had access to in his home town was far from impressive by Star Fleet standards, and fearing his application would suffer for it, requested he be allowed to stay with his extended family in New York City. Surprisingly, his father allowed it. He would later discover that his father was proud enough that his son had finally found a direction in his life, even if that direction would take him to the far reaches of known space.
Once in New York he began gathering everything he could get his hands on about the application, acceptance and education offered by Star Fleet. It seemed to the small town boy that his dreams were never meant to be. Theoretical Physics, Warp Theory, Xeno-Biology and a number of other even harder to pronounce courses threatened to shatter what little confidence Michael had. Just coming to the large metropolis of New York had shook his foundation. He had never realized how big the world was, much less the universe. At this point he was fourteen years old, and in order to make friends and acquaintances his Uncle Art enrolled him in self-defense classes at a little boxing gym several blocks away. While Michael was hesitant at first he quickly became addicted to the adrenaline rush he received while sparring. A rush he was missing without access to the massive rock faces he had gotten used to climbing in his youth.
As the years went by his knowledge in Mathematics and science grew steadily, though not at the rate he had hoped. He had no idea how the Heisnberg Compensators that allowed transporter technology actually did what it did. Similarly he only knew the basics of Warp technology. What he did seem to excel at however was chemistry, and biology. In fact, once he dissected his first pig he knew he had found something he was good at.
Hoping to pursue an education in medicine he began volunteering at the nearby hospital, which while informative led to the insight that he very much, did not want to be a doctor. The idea of saving someone's life was appealing, but the thought that he could be responsible for a critically injured crew members death made him more then a little nervous. In fact, it was incapacitating. At this point however his application had been accepted, much to his surprise, and he had little time left to consider his options as he was sent to the Star Fleet Preparatory Program. It was a program designed to the weed out the unwanted and make the final selection as to who would officially be accepted into the Academy. While he had naturally assumed he had done terribly, his scores in spatial reasoning, stress reaction and deductive reasoning were surprisingly high.
Once at the academy he spent his time pursuing classes revolving around medicine. While he was still nervous about becoming a doctor he wasn’t sure what other field to pursue. At least until his first Advanced Hand-to-hand Combat class. He had always been good in melee combat, and what he discovered was that his knowledge of anatomy, specifically all the things that could go wrong, he could execute fairly advanced maneuvers with ease. Well not ease, but he did it better than most. This insight led him to pursue an education in security, which consequently required him to learn the many weapons employed by star fleet, and the many other races of the galaxy. Eventually, he became talented enough to identify the type of weapon being fired just from the sound of its discharge. despite his many accomplishments and having come so far from his humble beginnings Michael was still ranked at just slightly above average. Upon graduating he was assigned to the Enterprise thanks to the reputation he had cultivated with his instructors. As well as the fact that a number of the graduates had requested other Star Ships to be assigned to.
Sample Post:Forty-five feet up, clinging to one of the well worn and slightly eroded quartzite cliff’s in the Blue Mound State Park, the sixteen year old Michael Doherty had never felt more alive. He had returned to his home state briefly for spring vacation and was quickly convinced by a group of his old friends to join them for a brief hike in the expansive park. That hike, as was his friends standard quickly evolved into a poorly prepared rock climbing adventure. With just a bit of cord and a handful of carabiners they endeavored to essentially free climb one of the many rock faces in the area.
The cool breeze was constant reminder of their environment as it carried with it the scent of pine trees and other foliage to the exhausted teenagers. At long last, Michael’s hands gripped the rim of the rock and hauled his weary but victorious body onto flat steady earth. He was the second to last to arrive out of the group of five and relished in the shade of the small tulip poplar that sat just a few feet from the crest of the cliff. In a few decades erosion would probably lead to the trees death, but for right now the bright yellow leaves were a beautiful sight to behold. Slowing returning to his feet he cautiously approached the edge of the cliff to view his last friends progress. Thomas was easily the most experienced rock climber in the group, but he was also slow and methodical, making his ascent appalling tedious.
“Glad to see some things haven’t changed while I’ve been away,” he shouted with a broad grin as he joked with his friend. His reply came in the form of a loud crack as his friend looked up at him. A weak section in the rock gave way beneath the pressure Thomas was putting on it, causing it to fracture, and causing Thomas to loose his hand hold. Now with his body weight on his right leg that hold too gave way to the pressure, causing him to plummet briefly before the carabiner and rope stopped his descent.
“Glad to see you still don’t know when to keep your mouth shut,” came the relieved and joyous reply of Thomas as he once more clung safely to the cliff face, this time with far more intensity then he otherwise would have.
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