Post by Will O'Malley on Jul 31, 2016 19:53:59 GMT
Biological Information
Name: William Ryan O'Malley
Callsign: Will, O'Malley, Doc, "Hey you with the face"
Gender: Male
Race: Human (Tau'ri)
Homeworld: Earth
DOB: August 12, 1973 [42]
Height: 6'00"
Hair: Black with very slight graying at the sideburns and temples. Typically it's slicked back, but it prone to escaping this and standing in most directions. His level of fatigue can generally be determined by the neatness of his hair.
Eyes: A light hazel brown
Identifying marks: Assorted scars from his time both in the British Army as well as off-world. No tattoos to speak of.
Professional Information
Occupation: Chief Medical Officer; Trauma Doctor
Organization: British Army (BA)
Rank/paygrade: Colonel
Background Information
Personal History: I was born awhile back in London England to my parents, Emily and Harry O'Malley. They told me I was an oddly quiet babe. I guess that somewhat foreshadows my natural nature...but moving on. They often engaged me within their lines of work. Mum would bring me to the hospital with her. Of course she didn't let me see anything violent or anyone sickly - but rather would show me the fast-pacing of her work and always managed to get me some form of candy. My father who worked as a military contract worker didn't bring me in often. Sometimes he would show me the blue-prints for a weapon he was working on - then told me to tell no one since he wasn't supposed to let anyone see it. It was our little secret.
Then mum got fat. Well - not fat, but ten-year-old me didn't know the difference. We took a trip to America where she ended up giving birth to my little brother Lee. I didn't like having the new child. He got more attention than me - and naturally I got a bit jealous. Over time, however, I got over it. I started playing games with him and slowly we became quite close.
At age twelve, my dad decided I was old enough to actually see some of the weapons he was working on with the military. This is how he got me involved with firearms. He showed me how to handle, care for, and operate them. Since owning firearms is so difficult in my neck of the woods, it was always at his work.
Several years later, I finally got enough nerve to ask out a girl at my school named Evie Williams. She and I dated for the entirety for a year. I know this shouldn’t matter since it’s just one girlfriend…but she changed my life. She was hit by a car. Evie pushed me out of the way, and ended up getting hit at a somewhat high-speed. I honestly don’t remember much after that point. People just tell me what happened – though everyone tells it a little different. In short, she died and I got involved in medicine. See? This is why I mentioned this awfully sad event. Anyway, life moves on.
I went from an average student to a somewhat obsessive one. I threw myself into my studies. Hard. I ended up going to the Bangor Medical College, Wales, in the end. After the awful process of getting a medical degree, I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life. Sadly, a recruiter was walking by and talked me into it. So I joined the British Army. Scared my parents when I told them. Eh. I don’t regret it.
I went into basic training, went through all the motions, and was put in a group as an army medic – since I was a qualified trauma doctor, and they thought it would be a good fit, for whatever reason. This is when I got involved with the asshat known as Colonel Prynne. He liked calling me Wanda. In the end, there’s an event that therapists love bringing up with me. We were pinned down, he was bleeding too much, I was injured too. It was all-bad. Again, not sure what happened after he started blaming me for it all, honestly. Woke up in a military hospital and was told that Prynne was dead. I…hate myself for the fact that I didn’t care. I just blinked at the nurse who told me the news, then asked what my injuries were.
I ended up in yet-another unit – though this one was in an area of far-less combat. This didn’t last long, before they decided I’d be better working in the hospitals instead of the trenches. I liked the hospital work. It was a nice break from constantly being shot at.
Apparently my actions somehow got the attention of a strange organization known as the SGC. They flew me in and shipped me off to the Delta galaxy (surprise – space flight and aliens are real), where I experienced some of the weirdest things in my entire life. A lot happened there. I was promoted to a Major, nearly died a few times, fought sickness, fought aliens, kept people from dying, was engaged for a bit, dated a few people, and so on. I was reassigned for a mission to help the galaxy with medical-stuff for a while, before returning to Delta. It was…weird coming back. Just wasn’t the same. Eventually, I went back to Earth and was assigned to the SGC’s medical work. I was promoted to Lieutenant Colonel. That felt…weird. I continued my work as the CMO there for awhile, before I met Sarah. She was an intelligence officer within the SGC who had taken a bullet to the stomach. Yes – bullet. Not laser-blast nor magical aurora blow. Bullet. Which most of the medical staff wasn’t used to. My trauma training and work in the BA basically saved her life. She was grateful. Then I didn’t see her for six months. No, our story isn’t amazing and romantic – it’s a bit weird, honestly. She came by and asked me out randomly, since she heard from a friend that I was single. We had wine in a storage room.
Two years later, I proposed. She said yes. We got married. I really don’t want to talk about this, but…you wanted to know everything. She became pregnant about a year later. We had been trying without really talking about it. We were both happy.
So happy.
James was born nine months later. Had dark curly hair like mine. Bright blue eyes like her – which means I apparently have some sort of recessive blue-eyed gene. But that’s getting off topic…
For about two months, my life felt perfect. I had a wife, kid, great job…
Then the fights started. I had gone back to work and she had chosen to stay home a bit longer to keep the child safe. She hated me when I came back. She blamed me for ‘abandoning’ her, and would always throw the kid at me after working for sixteen hours straight. I tried to help as much as I could without a single word of complaint. Eventually, she returned to work and James was left in the care of a nanny we trusted.
I figured the fights would stop, now that she could have a life again.
They got worse.
Every little thing set her off. Hell – it started setting me off. Nearly every evening was a stand-off in the living room where we would be whispering a fight back and forth, in order to not let James hear – nor wake him.
I went to work one day after a particularly awful fight that morning, and sat at my desk. It was divorce papers, of course. I didn't contest, and simply realized we had grown apart.
However, that didn’t go as smoothly as I would have liked. We ended up having a small trial about who-gets-what – which should have been two lawyers talking – but she wanted it bigger. Surprise – her family had a damn good lawyer, and she wanted full custody of James. Her lawyer twisted words like a painter forming a landscape. There was no way I could win.
So...that was fun. Less than a year later, an old friend of mine, Kate, and I started seeing each other. Lots of mistakes later we were married. It actually went far better than my marriage with Sarah. While things went a bit fast, we had fun. Got divorced a few months ago, but it wasn't hostile. We both recognized we got married because we were both just in weird places in our life, and it was just...overkill, I guess.
I still work at the SGC, but with what's brewing...it sounds like I may jump back into the laser fire yet again.
Family:
Harry O'Malley - father - retired military contract worker - deceased
Emily O'Malley - mother - retired nurse - living
Lee O'Malley - brother - tech specialist within American Army - living
SarahO’Malley Keiser – exwife – intelligence officer for the SGC – living
JamesO’Malley Keiser – son – blowing spit-bubbles – living
KateO'Malley Cross – exwife – SGC pilot [Airforce] – living
Personality: Will typically comes off as quiet and even a bit stand-offish, but has slightly warmed up over time. Though he used to be one to internalize a majority of his problems and issues, he's slowly learned to express himself. Thanks to his higher rank, he's needed to actually order people around and say what he's thinking. No longer can he just sort of take and it and roll with the punches. He has noticed his insomnia is remarkably less present when he actually says what he's thinking, but - of course - would never really admit it.
He's a rather driven person, which sometimes pushes people away on an emotional level. If there's a goal, he will stick to the plan and get to that goal, no matter what. This laser-focuses can get a bit unhealthy and obsessive. He - of course - pushes away all forms of concern about this with dry humor and bad jokes that typically make people cringe. However when he gets hyper-focused, he tends to also be a significantly less nice person. His fuse is shorter, his ability to take failure is non-existent, and he's generally just unpleasant to be around. So, fun for the whole family.
Despite being not the nicest person in the Universe, his bed-side manner is actually pretty good. He knows being injured to any extent can be a terrifying process, and does what he can to help the person not panic. If their situation is grim, he's become remarkably good at breaking the news without completely breaking them. It's honestly one of his better talents, other than the whole 'knowing the human body inside and out', thing.
Thanks to having two divorces and a son that's legally not his anymore, he's sort of given up on the whole 'romance' thing. At this point, his life is his job and he's okay with that. The Stargate program has been a part of his life for most of his adult years, making it one of the few constants. He knows it's sort of 'sad' and 'depressing', but love isn't everything. He's made a huge difference both on Earth and in other galaxies as well. Saying he's had a few divorces shouldn't tarnish that.
Ancient Gene: Yes
Behind the Scenes
Face Claim: Milo Ventimiglia
Player: Hayles @ 'Murica
Rules: By posting this application I understand and will follow the site Rules.
Roleplay Example:
Name: William Ryan O'Malley
Callsign: Will, O'Malley, Doc, "Hey you with the face"
Gender: Male
Race: Human (Tau'ri)
Homeworld: Earth
DOB: August 12, 1973 [42]
Height: 6'00"
Hair: Black with very slight graying at the sideburns and temples. Typically it's slicked back, but it prone to escaping this and standing in most directions. His level of fatigue can generally be determined by the neatness of his hair.
Eyes: A light hazel brown
Identifying marks: Assorted scars from his time both in the British Army as well as off-world. No tattoos to speak of.
Professional Information
Occupation: Chief Medical Officer; Trauma Doctor
Organization: British Army (BA)
Rank/paygrade: Colonel
Background Information
Personal History: I was born awhile back in London England to my parents, Emily and Harry O'Malley. They told me I was an oddly quiet babe. I guess that somewhat foreshadows my natural nature...but moving on. They often engaged me within their lines of work. Mum would bring me to the hospital with her. Of course she didn't let me see anything violent or anyone sickly - but rather would show me the fast-pacing of her work and always managed to get me some form of candy. My father who worked as a military contract worker didn't bring me in often. Sometimes he would show me the blue-prints for a weapon he was working on - then told me to tell no one since he wasn't supposed to let anyone see it. It was our little secret.
Then mum got fat. Well - not fat, but ten-year-old me didn't know the difference. We took a trip to America where she ended up giving birth to my little brother Lee. I didn't like having the new child. He got more attention than me - and naturally I got a bit jealous. Over time, however, I got over it. I started playing games with him and slowly we became quite close.
At age twelve, my dad decided I was old enough to actually see some of the weapons he was working on with the military. This is how he got me involved with firearms. He showed me how to handle, care for, and operate them. Since owning firearms is so difficult in my neck of the woods, it was always at his work.
Several years later, I finally got enough nerve to ask out a girl at my school named Evie Williams. She and I dated for the entirety for a year. I know this shouldn’t matter since it’s just one girlfriend…but she changed my life. She was hit by a car. Evie pushed me out of the way, and ended up getting hit at a somewhat high-speed. I honestly don’t remember much after that point. People just tell me what happened – though everyone tells it a little different. In short, she died and I got involved in medicine. See? This is why I mentioned this awfully sad event. Anyway, life moves on.
I went from an average student to a somewhat obsessive one. I threw myself into my studies. Hard. I ended up going to the Bangor Medical College, Wales, in the end. After the awful process of getting a medical degree, I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life. Sadly, a recruiter was walking by and talked me into it. So I joined the British Army. Scared my parents when I told them. Eh. I don’t regret it.
I went into basic training, went through all the motions, and was put in a group as an army medic – since I was a qualified trauma doctor, and they thought it would be a good fit, for whatever reason. This is when I got involved with the asshat known as Colonel Prynne. He liked calling me Wanda. In the end, there’s an event that therapists love bringing up with me. We were pinned down, he was bleeding too much, I was injured too. It was all-bad. Again, not sure what happened after he started blaming me for it all, honestly. Woke up in a military hospital and was told that Prynne was dead. I…hate myself for the fact that I didn’t care. I just blinked at the nurse who told me the news, then asked what my injuries were.
I ended up in yet-another unit – though this one was in an area of far-less combat. This didn’t last long, before they decided I’d be better working in the hospitals instead of the trenches. I liked the hospital work. It was a nice break from constantly being shot at.
Apparently my actions somehow got the attention of a strange organization known as the SGC. They flew me in and shipped me off to the Delta galaxy (surprise – space flight and aliens are real), where I experienced some of the weirdest things in my entire life. A lot happened there. I was promoted to a Major, nearly died a few times, fought sickness, fought aliens, kept people from dying, was engaged for a bit, dated a few people, and so on. I was reassigned for a mission to help the galaxy with medical-stuff for a while, before returning to Delta. It was…weird coming back. Just wasn’t the same. Eventually, I went back to Earth and was assigned to the SGC’s medical work. I was promoted to Lieutenant Colonel. That felt…weird. I continued my work as the CMO there for awhile, before I met Sarah. She was an intelligence officer within the SGC who had taken a bullet to the stomach. Yes – bullet. Not laser-blast nor magical aurora blow. Bullet. Which most of the medical staff wasn’t used to. My trauma training and work in the BA basically saved her life. She was grateful. Then I didn’t see her for six months. No, our story isn’t amazing and romantic – it’s a bit weird, honestly. She came by and asked me out randomly, since she heard from a friend that I was single. We had wine in a storage room.
Two years later, I proposed. She said yes. We got married. I really don’t want to talk about this, but…you wanted to know everything. She became pregnant about a year later. We had been trying without really talking about it. We were both happy.
So happy.
James was born nine months later. Had dark curly hair like mine. Bright blue eyes like her – which means I apparently have some sort of recessive blue-eyed gene. But that’s getting off topic…
For about two months, my life felt perfect. I had a wife, kid, great job…
Then the fights started. I had gone back to work and she had chosen to stay home a bit longer to keep the child safe. She hated me when I came back. She blamed me for ‘abandoning’ her, and would always throw the kid at me after working for sixteen hours straight. I tried to help as much as I could without a single word of complaint. Eventually, she returned to work and James was left in the care of a nanny we trusted.
I figured the fights would stop, now that she could have a life again.
They got worse.
Every little thing set her off. Hell – it started setting me off. Nearly every evening was a stand-off in the living room where we would be whispering a fight back and forth, in order to not let James hear – nor wake him.
I went to work one day after a particularly awful fight that morning, and sat at my desk. It was divorce papers, of course. I didn't contest, and simply realized we had grown apart.
However, that didn’t go as smoothly as I would have liked. We ended up having a small trial about who-gets-what – which should have been two lawyers talking – but she wanted it bigger. Surprise – her family had a damn good lawyer, and she wanted full custody of James. Her lawyer twisted words like a painter forming a landscape. There was no way I could win.
So...that was fun. Less than a year later, an old friend of mine, Kate, and I started seeing each other. Lots of mistakes later we were married. It actually went far better than my marriage with Sarah. While things went a bit fast, we had fun. Got divorced a few months ago, but it wasn't hostile. We both recognized we got married because we were both just in weird places in our life, and it was just...overkill, I guess.
I still work at the SGC, but with what's brewing...it sounds like I may jump back into the laser fire yet again.
Family:
Harry O'Malley - father - retired military contract worker - deceased
Emily O'Malley - mother - retired nurse - living
Lee O'Malley - brother - tech specialist within American Army - living
Sarah
James
Kate
Personality: Will typically comes off as quiet and even a bit stand-offish, but has slightly warmed up over time. Though he used to be one to internalize a majority of his problems and issues, he's slowly learned to express himself. Thanks to his higher rank, he's needed to actually order people around and say what he's thinking. No longer can he just sort of take and it and roll with the punches. He has noticed his insomnia is remarkably less present when he actually says what he's thinking, but - of course - would never really admit it.
He's a rather driven person, which sometimes pushes people away on an emotional level. If there's a goal, he will stick to the plan and get to that goal, no matter what. This laser-focuses can get a bit unhealthy and obsessive. He - of course - pushes away all forms of concern about this with dry humor and bad jokes that typically make people cringe. However when he gets hyper-focused, he tends to also be a significantly less nice person. His fuse is shorter, his ability to take failure is non-existent, and he's generally just unpleasant to be around. So, fun for the whole family.
Despite being not the nicest person in the Universe, his bed-side manner is actually pretty good. He knows being injured to any extent can be a terrifying process, and does what he can to help the person not panic. If their situation is grim, he's become remarkably good at breaking the news without completely breaking them. It's honestly one of his better talents, other than the whole 'knowing the human body inside and out', thing.
Thanks to having two divorces and a son that's legally not his anymore, he's sort of given up on the whole 'romance' thing. At this point, his life is his job and he's okay with that. The Stargate program has been a part of his life for most of his adult years, making it one of the few constants. He knows it's sort of 'sad' and 'depressing', but love isn't everything. He's made a huge difference both on Earth and in other galaxies as well. Saying he's had a few divorces shouldn't tarnish that.
Ancient Gene: Yes
Behind the Scenes
Face Claim: Milo Ventimiglia
Player: Hayles @ 'Murica
Rules: By posting this application I understand and will follow the site Rules.
Roleplay Example:
0530
Will's House
Colorado Springs, COThe door slammed shut, as the rather exhausted looking man let out a heavy sigh. He was getting too old for this. Not really, but he could actively think it, and grumble under his breath. Locking the door behind him, he walked past the entryway and into the inky-blackness of the empty house. Flipping on a switch in the living room, he took in the rather sparse decoration. A couch. A bookshelf that was filled with medical journals. A TV he hadn't turned on in months. The walls were bare of any sort of pictures. The coffee table holding up a glass of water he had a few nights ago, that he never bothered to put away.
"Oh what an unruly mess," he whispered to himself with a quiet laugh, as he grabbed the glass and headed for the kitchen. It felt like only yesterday that he was cleaning up after a screaming child that seemed rather content to soil every surface he touched. Or with his last marriage, Kate wasn't exactly the most tidy person. A plate of half eaten food sitting out on the table. Laundry that didn't quite make it from the dryer to their room. He never really minded.
But with him, things were always so...simple. A misplaced glass. A sock that escaped him dragging his clothes back from the dryer. Leaving his tube of toothpaste out on the counter, rather than stowing it away.
Setting the glass in the drying rack beside the sink, he rolled his neck - creating a faint cracking sound. For someone who told others to not pop their joints or crack their knuckles, he often partook in the pressure release. As long as they did what he said and not what he did, his patients would be fine.
"I should get a pet," he reasoned out loud, "But then I'd never be home to take care of it," he wandered out of the kitchen - flipping off the lights as he went along, "Unless I got a low maintenance pet. Like a fish," he didn't bother flipping on the light to the hall as he wandered into his bedroom.
It was somehow more sparse than his living room. A bed. Two end-tables. His assorted degrees on the wall. That was it.
"Though that's not really companionship, is it?" he continued, not bothering to think of the implications of him talking to himself so freely, "It's just a damn moving picture that could die. I could just get a painting instead and it would be as interesting. And not die," he pulled off his shirt, and threw it into the hamper in his closet, "Cats aren't needy. But they claw everything," he grabbed a sleep-shirt from the dresser in his closet, "Could get the little thing declawed but that never feels humane. Dogs...I shouldn't. Require walking. Attention. Basically another kid," he let out another sigh, as he stripped down to his boxers - tossing his pants, before moving to the bathroom, "Ah...I shouldn't get anything," he finally decided, pulling out some floss, "And likely shouldn't be talking to myself this much. This really cannot be healthy."
-smacks him-