[hider=The Journalist][center][COLOR=b8b8b8][sub][h1][sub]D A V I D S A W Y E R[/sub][/h1][/sub][/COLOR] [img]https://i.imgur.com/dZsL0GS.png[/img] [/center] [img]http://i.imgur.com/jPqtE3a.png[/img] [color=a8a8a8]"I've seen things." "Things that you wouldn't believe. Things that no one would ever believe. But the stories are true. Journalism is all about reporting the truth, no matter how fucked up it is." A weary sigh. The drag of a cigarette and a long, slow exhale. "When you've been behind the lens of a camera as long as I have, covered the stories I've written, you'll start seeing things too. Weird things. Horrible things. Man twisted into the very essence of evil. Places and things turned on their heads, the very environment turned into a grotesque display of the very savage core of evil." The soft tap of a cigarette on the rim of an ash tray, the falling ashes gathering in a pile underneath the smoldering tip. "And...sometimes you find things that keep you awake at night. The stories that linger long after they've been buried by the press. The ones that had...unusual circumstances." Another drag on the cigarette and the soft crumpling of paper as it was ground into the ash tray. "You want to hear a story? I'll tell you a story. I was overseas, in Africa, covering a story about piracy. Mogadishu, Somalia. I was alone but I had locals who'd been paid very, very generously to bring me around town to show me the good side of the city that was rebuilding after a disastrous civil war. It was just me, my camera and about a week's worth of time to document how well the city was doing. And it was doing pretty well, all said and done. Up until, one day before the flight back, our convoy was touring the outskirts of the city when it got hit by an extremist group ambush. I had to defend myself in all the chaos and... I had to kill a child. A ten year old with an assault rifle leveled straight at me. I had no choice. With all the chaos, he was right in front of me and my life was in danger. I... I grabbed a rock and smacked him in the head with it as hard as I could. He dropped right to the floor and, in a haze of defensive anger, I got up and bashed his head in. His skull popped like a watermelon, blood poured out all over the dirt." "I... I've told no one except you this. By the time the dust settled, no one realised what had happened. It was assumed that an explosion knocked a piece of debris into his head that killed him. I flew back to the States with blood on my hands. A secret I've not told anyone until today."[/color] [hr] [img]http://i.imgur.com/FP8IOW8.png[/img] [color=a8a8a8]"I've been an investigative journalist and part-time photographer for well over thirty years. Covered my fair share of everything, from the mundane to the extreme. Everything from the state spelling bee championships to the most gruesome murders. I've taken assignments from my bosses to go overseas, covering wars, famines, police in Africa fighting back against poachers, the culture of the Yakuza in Japan... I've taken millions of pictures, written thousands of words, published articles about how shit our world is for a variety of news agencies, licensed and independent. My camera has been my best friend through all this, capturing what my eyes see and the emotions I've felt over the many years I've worked at this job." "Lately, however, the recent case that I told you about that...impacted my life? I left my job because of it. Done a fair bit of soul-searching, trying to get over it. Nothing helped, not until I told myself I needed help. Went to see a local shrink, who told me that the years I spent on the job had given me a major form of PTSD, and that the story I'd just returned from was the biggest tipping point. My personality was acting in defense of all these negative emotions, walling off all feeling and making me numb. Emotionless. A blank. The only triggers were the things I'd seen and witnessed during my stories. The blood, the gore, the noise. It all puts me on edge. When I get nervous and paranoid, the feeling doesn't go away. I get afraid of things. Opening doors, checking the mail, even eating. Sometimes it lasts for a few minutes, other times it goes on for days. I can't stand it." "I guess...that's why I was referred to this new shrink. My old one recommended me to this one, even wrote a referral letter. Said that there was not much he could do now that my...state of mental health was deteriorating. First session for this new shrink is some sort of...group therapy session, like Alcoholics Anonymous." "I...one of the things that my old shrink told me to do was to keep a diary. Written or otherwise. This is my diary. One, single voice recorder. This is my first entry. My name is David Sawyer. I'm an investigative journalist. And I'm going crazy. Kinda. I guess."[/color] [hr] [img]http://i.imgur.com/tUBValJ.png[/img] [color=a8a8a8][list] [*] Post Traumatic Stress Disorder - "Loud noises startle me, triggers the stress and breakdowns. Stuff like exhaust backfires, firecrackers, even doors slamming. It puts me in a state of general unease and paranoia." [*] Nightmares - "Not a night goes by when I don't dream about what I did and what I've seen. It haunts my being, exhausts me, tires me out, waiting until I make a decision to end it all." [*] Paranoia - "It comes after I get startled by any really loud noises. I get paranoid about doing things like eating, drinking, even sleeping, for fear of something untoward happening to me." [*] Shellshock - "I've spent the last three decades and then some covering some of the most gruesome news stories I've ever seen. At this point, for all the blood and guts I've seen, I'm numb to it. And I'm not sure if that's a blessing or a curse, because I don't even feel for things any more. I...I've lost control of my feelings." [*] Smoker - "Yeah, the stress I've felt is only alleviated by my cigarettes. Before I started, I didn't even smoke. Now I'm up to almost a pack a day. Doesn't help my lung capacity." [/list][/color] [hr] [img]http://i.imgur.com/gChj0bd.png[/img] [color=a8a8a8][list] [*] Perceptive - "Thirty years behind a lens has honed my eye to a very good degree, I have to admit." [*] Tough - "And those thirty years gave me an edge against others. I have more stamina than most people my age; run farther, walk faster, stuff like that." [*] Well-Traveled - "Show me a picture of a place and I can probably identify it if I give it enough thought." [/list][/color] [hr] [img]http://i.imgur.com/43R0Szx.png[/img] [color=a8a8a8][list] [*]Fortitude: 4 [*]Willpower: 2 [*]Passion: 4 [*]Perception: 8 [*]Violence: 5 [*]Soul: 2 [/list][/color][/hider]