Name:
James W. Hughes

Nickname:
H (pronounced hay-tch)

Age:
22

Picture: (Please post a picture of your character, real life please)
[hider=H][img=http://i.imgur.com/UIupJU8.jpg][/hider]

Bio:
H is the American born son of a emigrant couple, his mother German, his father English. They did their best raising him, always having dinner together, providing an ever present support system and always encouraging H to be his own man. In his second year in high school, he took on the nickname H, tired of being one of nine kids named James. It was around this time that he to truly becoming his own person. He took up a part time job that he often skipped his last class for at a local restaurant where he worked as a busboy. He became fast friends with the staff who would take him out to a bar after work, the bar owner being the kind of guy to rarely check I.D.s, particularly when it was a person with someone he liked.

H got his first tattoo while completely shitfaced at sixteen realising that if his parents saw the shitty OK Go tattoo on his right bicep they'd kill him, he got his first 'real' tattoo, a sleeve that went from bicep to wrist, only sparing the crook of his elbow. By the time he left high school, the only institution that would take him was a technical school which he attended briefly before dropping out. His parents were livid with the way he was living his life and gave him the option of cutting the bullshit and living a normal life or leaving their house until he was ready to turn himself around.

Three years later, he wound up at new town, low on cash and burnt out from the life he was leading. H eventually found a run down apartment and a decent job as a line cook in a local Italian restaurant. Now a days he's just saving cash to open a restaurant of his own, hoping to one day make a name for himself. At least, one that doesn't conjure the image of a tattooed drunken partier. A few weeks into his new life, he stumbled upon Mingle and checked it out, figuring that it would be a cheaper form of entertainment. Now he drops by frequently to sit at he bar and have a strawberry smoothie after a long day of work. He rarely talks to anyone beyond what's necessary to order his drink, and that's something he's entirely comfortable with. To this day he still gets tattoos, just much less frequently. His most recent [url=http://i.imgur.com/pQRegHn.jpg]one is on his left wrist[/url].

Why did your character want to come to this bar?:
He doesn't get out and socialise as much after dropping out of university. H figured this would be a good way to finally meet people that he wasn't serving.

What color glow stick will they wear:
Green

Writing sample:
Intro post from a space colonisation rp that seems to have died.
[hider=Sample]
"Adrian!" He heard, followed by a dull pounding that resonated in his skull, a booming sensation that brought forth a headache that had been brewing for thirty years. "Adrian!" the voice called louder now, repeating over and over with the banging that made the inside of his skull sear in an ungodly pain. Eyes shot open, his view filled with that of one of his partners from the NASA venture, James. "What?" Adrian began to say, his mouth barely opening and words not forming in his mouth. "Adrian," James said with a look of relief now, "Thank god you made it." Fear spiked through Adrian at those words. What could James have meant by that? Adrian's eyes moved about, scanning the chamber for the emergency release mechanism that would allow him freedom, though right now the only part of his body that seemed to still be loyal were his eyes. It wasn't long after his eyes opened that the chamber door dropped down, allowing Adrian to be met with the stale, terror filled air, that existed in most of the ship. James caught Adrian as he tried to step out, immediately dropping to the ground. "Give it a few moments Adrian. You stay here, I'm gonna try to get a hold of the rest of us." James reassured Adrian, giving him a pat on the back before helping him onto the cool floor.

People rushed past, some still remaining in their chambers and slowly the puzzle began to fall into place in Adrian's mind. Some system had failed and the ship's emergency protocol had been started. When he got a better look of the chamber across from his it became clear how dire the situation was. The resident of the chamber was dead, her face twisted and pale, her skin tight and stretched across bone. He could only guess the woman's chamber malfunctioned and took her life with it. "Christ," Adrian managed to work out of his throat, the words thick and unpleasant like molasses. Adrian's eyes blinked slowly, his body still incredibly fatigued, and looked down at himself to remind him of what he was wearing. It was his usual off-the-job get up of blue jeans, boots, and a white t-shirt that was just loose enough to breathe. It was by his feet that Adrian noticed his pack, a convenient bag that he could sling over his shoulders, on that wouldn't weigh him down that much. Especially in the reduced gravity of the ship.

Minutes passed by and James had yet to return. Adrian took the pack and brought the straps over his shoulders, understanding that time was of the essence and that he could rest when he was dead. Now, getting the pack on was the easy part. Standing up... Not so much. Adrian couldn't say with confidence that his limbs wouldn't burst as he brought himself up onto his feet which shook with uncertainty. The air tasted more foul outside of his chamber, Adrian had begun to notice. As if it were going rotten. A wayward glance reminded him of the corpse. The air was definitely rotten. He could only guess from the markers on the walkway that everyone was expected to evacuate the ship immediately, but there was a problem with that. Adrian couldn't leave without the equipment in the cargo hold. Not if they had any intention of surviving that on this god foresaken world that is.

"Hey," Adrian called out to the few people that were still by their chambers, "we can't abandon ship yet. I need help getting some vital cargo." Just saying those words alone dragged more energy out of him then he would have liked to admit.
[/hider]