Garret Carmichael

[chellielove]

Character Name: Garret Lloyd Carmichael
Nickname(s): Speedracer
Gender: Male
Age: 22
Occupation: Telemarketer
Sexuality: Straight
Weight: 167
Height: 6'3
Appearance:

hair: Garret's hair is black and color, a trait that doesn't come from his mother or his father. It is kept at a short-medium length, and has a natural sort of spiked look to it. He truly puts no effort in to how his hair looks. That would be "girlish" in his opinion. The most Garret might do to fix up his hair is ruffle it up with his fingers a bit, but that's it.

eyes: His eyes are a dark brown in color; a trait that comes from his mother. He always has this look in his eye like he is up to something (and most likely, he is). Garret is hard to read just by looking at is eyes, so it's useless to try.

nose: "... It's a nose. Who cares? It's no Mount Everest and I certainly don't look like Santa Clause (who, by the way kiddos; is NOT real. Someone should blow that shit wide open)." Despite his dislike of discussing his nose and thinking it to be an ‘ordinary’ thing, it is slightly crooked from being broken when he was fifteen.

lips: According to his female friends of past; they're definitely worthy of some attention from their own mouths. He has a hard time, however, with keeping them from getting chapped. It seems like Garret is always losing his chapstick.

body: If it were not for his handicap keeping him in a chair, Garret would be standing at just over 6'3". Although his legs have loss most of their muscle tone, his torso is the exact opposite; the man pumps iron constantly as a release for his stress and anger. As a result, his arms, chest, and abdomen a very nicely chiseled. Not to mention the fact that he tans easily... Garret is the epitome of 'hotwheels'.

distinguishing features: “I'm in a damned wheelchair. Hello?” Along his arms, once can see scars from an assortment of events ranging from sliding into homebase for a safe to falling on broken glass. Most have started to fade, however, but a few new ones along with some bruises from falling out of his chair (playing wheelchair basketball) have started to pop up.

Personality:

DETERMINED: Otherwise known as foolishness. Garret often speaks and acts without thinking, and most of the time without remorse, either. Once he decides to do something, there's no stopping him. He pretends to know what's in and out of his reach, but he doesn't care enough to determine whether or not he'll reach his goals, and if he does, it will have been worth the trouble. He's not illogical - it's just that logic is put on the backburner when Garret is especially fired up about something.

ARROGANT: What? Didn’t you know that Garret is the best damned thing you’ve ever set your eyes on? Shame, because that’s the truth. And if you don't agree, well... you’re the following: A.) An Idiot, B.) Very Wrong, and C.) Deprived of his presence. You know Arrogance and Selfishness goes hand-in-hand, so it should be no surprise to you that the number one person Garret will always look out for is himself. He does things for himself and does not consider others at all (unless it is a very rare occasion and you manage to captivate this fellow).

WHITE LIAR: Garret does not blatantly lie. No, he is much more careful and witty than that. He just bends the truth… A wee bit. Alright, fine. He bends it greatly, but there is always the semblance of the truth in everything he says. Now, sometimes he does this to protect certain people, though by taking away honesty he often causes more problems in the long run than solutions. However, to the general public, Garret will tell horrible truths, but he will never lie. That's why it's generally better not to ask him anything unless you know you can stand to hear the answer.

PLAYA-PLAY: Surprised that a man in wheels can be this salacious? Trust me, he was too. Apparently chicks dig a hot guy in a wheelchair. He's absolutely shameless. He has absolutely no problem leaving girls after he is bored with them. As much as he likes to sing his own praises, he enjoys it even more when his latest conquests sing them for him. And these girls seem to have no problem in doing that for him.

INTELLIGENT: Garret is very smart, both academically and street-wise. He is much sharper than most people assume him to be, mostly because he doesn't broadcast his apparent intelligence. It's easier to corner people when they think they're talking to a stupid person, after all - and they learn quickly. He's very smart, and extremely resourceful.

PERCEPTIVE: Garret has always been overly-observant, taking care to take tiny details and storing them away for later use. Being who he is, he's learned that it's easier to get through tough times when you're on your toes, and to always take even the smallest of details into account. Even the minutest details can matter in the end. He's an echo of whoever he's interacting with. If they are bubbly and cheerful, he'll make flippant comments and tease about the latest rumors floating around, turning up the charm just so that the person will feel like they can relate to him in some obscure way, and in that way he gains trust. If they were somber, sad, contemplative, he discusses the pains and sorrows of the world and of his own suddenly pathetic and pity-worthy life.

ARGUMENTATIVE: Verbally aggressive, to the point, and sometimes successful. He's good to have on your side in a debate, as he's as smooth a talker as they come, his words always coated with sugar (even if they are laced with a little bit of sick). He has a silver-tongue, and is extremely persuasive; he can talk his way out of any situation, if he has enough determination to back his words. Of course, when he's in a bad mood, poison and malice practically drip from his mouth, so you have to be careful of what you listen to, and what you don't. Of course, when he's on the right side, and chooses to speak truthfully, you should choose to listen, as no doubt he's planning on turning the entire room upside down.

RUTHLESS: He's usually a pretty relaxed guy, who swears a lot, but if someone pisses him off, or he's having a bad day he doesn't care whose feelings he hurts or how he hurts them. His anger always gets the better of him in irritable situations. Garret has a tendency to swear a lot and has grown accustomed to the words 'fuck', 'bastard', 'dickhead' and many more and it's almost as if it's his very own language. His language is as filthy as his neatness.

VIOLENT: As a bad flaw, Garret can be violent. And violent sometimes doesn't even come close to what he's capable of. He doesn't think before he acts (as mentioned before_. Garret is not a thinker when he’s angered. He's more of the hands-on type. He likes bruising someone's face or running someone over. He likes fighting and getting in people's faces. He can be ready to liberate the numb feeling in his fingers when he’s over the limit of his temper. His actions result in trouble, people screaming and bruises. But hey. When you’re crippled you can get away with anything.

History:

Carter Carmichael had been a very, as some would put it, weasel like man who knew the right words to get the right (or wrong) people to do things for him. He’d been twenty-five, bored out of his mind in a small town on the outskirts of Denver, Colorado. It was on a trip to Denver that he met a young, seventeen year old Louisa Hamilton. Born from money, to a poor and out of luck Carter Carmichael, Louisa was like putty in his hands. A year later and a month from graduating of course, Louisa was found out to be pregnant and in an effort to save face, her father butted in and forced the two to wed just two months later.

It was a long and suffered 13 hours of wait for the family and labor on the young Mrs. Carmichaels part for her son to be born. At 4:11 in the A.M., Garret Carmichael was brought into the world and born into a family that was forcibly thrown together. It wasn’t that it didn’t work; it mostly had to do with the fact that everyone hardly knew their place in this family arrangement, especially Garret’s father. Of course, Carter had gotten the money he’d wanted, and it served a purpose in shutting the twenty-seven year olds mouth from complaining. A short three years later, the family moved to Los Angeles, California. With Louisa’s connections there, the family quickly made friends with a newlywed couple with the last name of O’Malley.

It was more than once in a week that a then four year old Garret found himself in the care of this couple while his parents did whatever it was that made them happy. The O’Malley’s never complained and neither did Garret. For there, the child felt more at home than his actual home, even though he knew he was loved at both places. At the age of five, Garret was informed that he was to be an older brother. He even remembered being told. Unlike most children, Garret didn’t feel threatened by this incoming baby. He didn’t cry, didn’t complain, and simply didn’t understand what it meant other than a sibling. He didn’t understand the hype and didn’t really ask much about it or where babies came from even. It was to also be found out that Mrs. O’Malley had been pregnant too, so the hype had been even worse.

Garret remembered being allowed to hold Celia for the first time. His mother had been there, helping him to support the baby’s head while his father fretted in the background to not move so much or fidget, sneeze even. The world around the poor child had drowned in a mass of confusion as he stared at the sleeping face of Celia. Garret would never know it until years later; but at the age of six years old, he had found his place in the world. His role of older brother had begun.

The years were smooth and quiet as they passed by and disappeared as if ripples on a lake. By the time Garret was nine, his life revolved around his younger sister and the O’Malley’s child, Robyn. Garret did everything older brothers did; he entertained them, he played with them, he even sat up on nights they couldn’t sleep and didn’t want to bother their parents. It was when Garret hit the age of ten that things really changed. It had started with Celia’s sudden drop in weight and constant trips to the bathroom, her insatiable hunger and never-ending thirst. Her flushed skin and sleepy attitude. At first it had been thought to be a simple mal-nutrition, but with blood drawn and test results that revealed a blood glucose reading of 769, the four year old Celia was sent to the children’s hospital with a diagnosis of Type-One-Insulin-Dependent-Diabetes-Mellitus, otherwise known as Type One Diabetes or Juvenile Diabetes.

Her care was thrust into the hands of her parents and even though they’d went through her entire hospital stay being instructed and crash-coursed through the basics of the care of the disease by the Diabetes Educator, they simply didn’t do well once ’thrown out on their own’ to care for it. A year and a half later, Celia’s case was accepted for Insulin Pump Therapy. It was relatively new back then, but it changed things for the better and life went on smoothly.

When Garret turned sixteen, things had definitely changed. Celia was ten, in her sixth year of Diabetes and in the hospital for DKA for the fourth time that year and on her way so to speak to Dialysis, a treatment given when kidneys are failing to do their proper job. The Carmichael family had moved back to Colorado the year Celia had turned eight and Garret fourteen to be near a better hospital. For the sake of Celia and Robyn’s friendship, the family had stayed in contact with the O’Malleys.

It was just a short two years later that due to certain events, Robyn was taken into the family. Garret remembered well; for weeks, Robyn following him everywhere he went. Garret remembered the only way to get her to sleep was either by sitting by her bedside or giving in and letting her curl up to him on the couch or even his own bed. Celia had been jealous and had admitted to it, so often, Garret was stuck between the both of them and rarely had much time for himself or even studying in between. It was hard on the fourteen year old, but he lived through it and if ever asked what the best years of his life were, those were it. He’d done so many things to make sure the little girls always had reason to smile; he’d walked them from school, taught them how to avoid hormonally challenged boys (though Garret had barely gotten out of that stage of life himself), and even had gone great lengths to let his dignity suffer for them.

Things passed smoothly for another five years, though six months after Celia’s fifteenth birthday; things had gone quickly downhill. The family was informed her kidneys were failing, she needed to be put onto Dialysis, she needed to go onto the waiting list for organ donors. Celia was forced to visit the hospitals Dialysis Center three times a week to let her blood be cleaned and excess fluid to be drained from her body. Watching his younger sibling suffer was hard on the young Garret who was only twenty-one. Garret was not her legal guardian but had gone every time she went in for the treatment. If you’ve ever been in a Dialysis Center in a hospital, you’d never be able to feel safe in a hospital again. Once or twice, Garret remembered, a person had died in the very room they’d been in.

It was at those times that Garret would soon gain his fear of hospitals. The staff doesn't really care for your well-being; you simply were another number on their chart. He remembered being close to throwing a nearby box of gloves at one of the nurses because of her stupidity. He wasn’t sure why, but after that, a small seed of hatred had grown into his thinking. Garret had always been a kind individual but shy to most. He didn’t speak much unless spoken to, or if he felt comfortable with a person. Even when he was angry he’d merely spout off something at the mouth and leave the room to sulk in solitude. It was after that, that Garret really realized whose fault it had been that Celia was forced to take such treatment. Her disease was a controllable thing, why had his parents allowed her horrible behavior as far as her treatment went?

It could have been prevented. It was to be said that in those six months before turning twenty, Garret Carmichael had changed. He’d been in College at the time and still living at home even, but he’d had to give that part of his life up to get a job to help earn enough to pay for medical bills. Because siblings often match closest, Garret, with Celia’s help had secretly gone to be tested. The very day they’d found out it was a match and he’d chosen to go ahead and donate his kidney to her still sticks out in his mind to this day. Garret was then confronted with another matter. Telling the parents he’d grown a hatred for had been one thing, telling Robyn had been another. He remembered it well, he’d found her sitting quietly on her own in the backyard. He’d sat near her; he’d informed her of his choice. Her answer had been that she was leaving, and she hadn’t told him why.

Needless to say, the conversation had turned into an argument and the two parted ways, both having parted ways with a bitter taste in their mouth over everything. A month later the surgery was performed and recuperation time hadn’t lasted that long thankfully to the new way of doing those sorts of things. Six months after; Celia’s body rejected the kidney transfer and passed on a short week later.
During this whole time window, Garret had been drafted into AAA baseball, well on his way to playing for the MLB. But when his sister had passed on, things spun out of control like crazy and he began drinking like there was no tomorrow. It didn’t help to relieve what had built up inside of him, it only made his temper grow more fierce. Which led to one night when he had been ‘having some fun’ in the bar and this one guy just completely irked him… To this day, Garret does not know exactly what it was that he found so detestable about the other man. But this dude in particular was the man he had his sights on to duke it out with.

And lemme tell ya, they did fight.
Except it didn’t end up so well. Apparently the big lumber-jack man had a knife on him and he liked to fight dirty. All it took was one stab. One, perfectly aimed jab of that knife. He lost all feeling in my lower body.
That’s right. He was paralyzed. All his dreams of pitching for the NY Yankees went down the drain like shit being flushed in a toilet.
He went to all those physical therapy places that the docs had told him about. Those people there were sickeningly happy and encouraging. He couldn’t stand them all that much, but he tried… With some hope that maybe he could walk again. He put up with that for about six months before he finally left Colorado and came to this Californian sunshine.

Sample Rp:

At Austin’s taunting, Sara rebutted with producing a charismatic smile onto her features and batting her eye lashes like all those pouty girls she had watched in her school days. “Oh gee, mister. Pardon me for my misbehavior! Just please don’t tell my mommy; she might wash my mouth out with soap,” chirped the female, feigning sincerity. Though her act was based off of pure sarcasm, Sara would not put it past her mother to chase her twenty-year-old daughter around with a bar of soap for her potty mouth. Where Alex had laughed at the frisky behavior of his red-headed spitfire, her mother had been less approving. There were times in her childhood that the youngest Wilkins daughter could recall being forced to bite down into a soap bar. Mother Wilkins was a smart woman—she knew that simply putting soapy water into her children’s mouth, it would easily be spit out and the terrible taste removed. However, when she forced her unruly kids to take a bite into the bar, the soap would stick into their teeth and leave a very unpleasant taste for hours to come. Soap was the worst punishment from her childhood, in Sara’s opinion. Too bad Alex was no longer around to save his daughter from the terrors of her mother’s soap. She might be an adult, but no matter how old you became; you never disobey mother. That would just cause all sorts of new hells to open up.

She crossed her legs, her foot bouncing to the rhythm of the song and Sara posted herself against the bar. The ledge of the table top supported her back and gave her a place to prop her elbows. As the brown bottle was raised, Sara warned, “Don’t think I’m too sober to kick your ass for cheeky comments like that.” Not that she had to be drunk to pummel someone, but that was a different story. It was just easier to blame it on the booze when she did get herself into a brawl. “But I’ve gotta admit, I do have a nice ass,” winked Sara, feeling completely at ease by this sort of joking with Austin, “Firm enough to bounce a nickel off of. I advise against trying, though.” Miss Wilkins barked a short laugh when Austin brought up the use of condoms. Feeling her bottle and satisfied that it was still cold enough for her liking, Sara tossed back another gulp of the beer, “Right. Because those are just so effective; I mean, they always prevent pregnancies and they never get holes in them or lose their effectiveness. Of course, you would know all about that, huh?” Ouch. Low-blow in reference to the little girl Teagan; she might admit that was a bit uncalled for, but to hell with it. He could put on his big boy pants and deal with it.

For a moment, Sara was quiet as she watched the blonde and brunette pair working the dance floor. At first glance, she would have listed them off as lesbians trying to be teases for the unfortunate fellows. However, now that Austin pointed them out and called for closer inspection… She saw their game. An amused grin was displayed on the Wilkins’ face and she shook her head at his guesses, “Nah, are you kidding me?! That brunette has complete control of the game. I’ll give it to you, she’s probably easy; but she’s a smart easy.” Sara moved to a more comfortable position on the stool, leaning forward to rest an arm on her crossed legs and then point out what the female was up to, “See, the blonde is prettier; she’s got that. But she doesn’t know how to work the game and probably is completely ignorant to the fact the brunette is using her. See, shorty over there knows that she wouldn’t be noticed in this place without that blonde. She lets the ditz pull in the attractive, decently intelligent guys, and when they get too damn annoyed with Jessica Simpson replica over there talking about buffaloes having wings—Shorty sweeps in and winds them around her finger with wicked promises of a good time. I’d say they’re both pretty damn easy, but one just gets the better end of the stick. The blonde because of her stupidity, I suspect, gets the younger… Probably less than legal, too.” Brown eyes glanced at Austin to see if he was with her explanation, “And Shorty right there gets the One Nighters that are worth having; mind-blowing sex and not waking up to a disgustingly hairy back or beer gut in the morning. It’s not always the gorgeous people that get the best; the less pretty people are usually the ones that are better at sex. ‘Cause, you know, they gotta keep the guy entertained somehow when they’re not as blessed in the looks department.” The logic almost seemed scientific enough.

And then a fellow was singled out by Austin. Sara launched her attention over towards the billiards table. She would not admit it to her people-watching partner, but the red-head had taken notice of that man a few times before. Not that she had ever been bored enough to bother with the eye-candy. She was rather glad of that, now. “Mm, he’s either gay, very loyal to a particular girl, or just asexual altogether. I think he could have just been acting very courteous to the bartender…” Honestly, she was pulling for the last one. But her luck was never good in that department.

Looking for any means to get off that particular topic, Sara was quite grateful to see a very familiar blonde walk into the barn. The grin was wide on her face and a laugh escaped from the fighter. “Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in,” mused the young woman when she tipped her beer into the direction of the younger Coleman, “Don’t look now, but I think your baby sister is trying out her big girl panties tonight… Or, maybe the lack of?” Ah. Brought back memories of her own high school days… Man, things were good then.

Celeb:

Brett Novek

Out Of Character:

The name's Chellie and I was born in 1991. I've RP'd for many years (exact number is unsure). You can find me in the evenings on AIM (wingsofaiko).

[( shannon )]

Yes yes yes! I'm loving this character! He's very unique and obviously has quite the sarcastic attitude. I love the fact that he's in a wheelchair because that is really a fun feature to work with. He is very well developed and sounds like an all around interesting character to role play with. The history was amazing! The research put into it was the perfect amount. I feel more educated about diabetes then I ever would have! He is a well thought out character with a rough past and definite plotting potential. (Aka hit me up). ACCEPTED! (: