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[URL=http://s1268.photobucket.com/user/shlfi/media/medic_zps2rgp1tfl.jpg.html][IMG]http://i1268.photobucket.com/albums/jj561/shlfi/medic_zps2rgp1tfl.jpg[/IMG][/URL]
[b][h3]James Cornelius Windsor [/h3][/b][/center]  
[b]Age[/b] - 34
[b]Sex[/b] - Male
[b]Occupation[/b] - First Responder (Paramedic, Firefighter, General Emergency Response)
[b]Appearance[/b] - James is a man of slightly above average height, standing two inches over six feet. He's in excellent shape as one would expect for someone in his job. He keeps his brown hair relatively short and neat. He tries to keep a generally neat appearance overall with the exception of a dogged five o'clock shadow that seems to show up by noon every day. On the job he wears the standard First Response uniform with its myriad of pockets and sturdy composition, while when off duty he prefers a casual look with loose weather appropriate shirts and pants and comfortable athletic style footwear. James - or Jamie as he's sometimes called - has a darker than Caucasian skin tone with a hint of light brown that speaks to a mixed heritage that he doesn't really know anything about. His eyes are hazel and seem to glimmer with flecks of many colors in the right light. 
[b]Strengths[/b] - Level headed. Quick thinking. Emergency responder. Good fitness. 
[b]Weaknesses[/b] - Impatience with others. Lack of social connections. Dark humor. 
[b]Personality[/b] - When it comes to his job, James Windsor has exactly the personality you want. He's level headed, quick thinking, cuts through bullshit, gets things done when every second counts the most. Outside of work, however, he can be a bit much for most folks to handle. He's quick to point out flaws, has little patience with what he sees as BS, isn't afraid to call people on it, and has the requisite first responder dark sense of humor that runs rampant throughout EMS, law enforcement, and the military. 
[b]Backstory[/b]
Like many others, Jamie Windsor signed up to come to Hestia Prime to start a new life. There hadn't been anything neccesarily [i]wrong[/i] with his old life in London, but he'd wanted something new. Start fresh someplace where he wasn't constantly surrounded by the dregs of humanity every day at work, where he was dealing with yet another drug overdose or the latest child negligence death, or drunken driving crash. Sure, there was no guarantee that Hestia Prime wouldn't have these things, but logic said that there'd be less, that a new world wouldn't import a whole lot of the scumbags that he'd be leaving behind. 

It meants leaving behind what little social network he'd built over the years, of course, but Jamie didn't think that would be too much of a hindrance. After all, he wasn't all that social of a person in general. Those folks who he didn't work with just couldn't understand the reality of his career or were put off by his dark sense of humor. Those whom he did work with and who could understand those things were just more reminders of the crap that each day was. Neither was really appealing. 

Funny thing was, Jamie actually really loved his job. Those occasions where he felt he was actually helping people were the best he could remember. He'd saved people time and again. Kept a little girl from dying after she was thrown from a horse at a riding club. Pulled an old man from a burning building when the fellow had been unable to make it himself. These were the things that kept him going, that he hoped to bring with him to the new world. [/hider]