[hider=Donnie boy]
[b]Name:[/b] Donavan "Donnie" Citrilin (Sit-trill-in)

[b]Age:[/b] 26

[b]Powers:[/b] Telepathy and Empathy/Empathic Suggestion.

[b]Position:[/b] Bartender

[b]Appearance:[/b] [img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/ef8c755c-ccf9-4801-94a1-74e7453e03df.jpg[/img][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/8c76d046-42a6-4084-8963-b8751ed6f042.gif[/img]

[b]History:[/b] Donnie was born in a cold alley in the dead of one of New York's harshest winters. His mother- 17 and homeless after her parents found out about her pregnancy- OD'd on the drugs she was using to keep the pain of the birth at bay. She died without once holding her child. The newborn had screamed and cried and coughed for the next hour before anyone walked by. When he was dropped off at the orphanage, no one was told what had happened to his mother, just that he'd been found on Death's doorstep due to exposure. He would ask the staff many times over his years what happened to his mother, his father, but he'd never get an answer.

This led to him being quite closed off in his formative years, thinking that his own parents had abandoned him and so will anyone he gets attached to. He fell in with a bad crowd starting in middle school and by his sophomore year he had joined a local gang. He never went back to school after that despite how well he did and the advanced rate he'd learned at; had his history been different, he would most likely have been an upstanding Honors student.

A year after he'd joined the gang, Donnie began getting headaches and random mood swings, whispers in the peripheral of his hearing that had him spinning around to find the source. It all built up until one stand off over territory just after he'd turned 18, where he was suddenly crippled by an intense fear that caused him to break out into a sweat of his own. His head felt like it was splitting with the rush of thoughts of [i]"Kill or be killed, kill or be killed, killorbekilled-"[/i] and by the time his vision evened back out, there was a kid standing in front of him, even younger than when he himself first started. The kid had a gun pointed shakily at his chest and he couldn't think of anything to say under the foreign thoughts pressing in, nothing but [i]"Killorbekilledkillorbekilledkillor-"[/i] before a gunshot rang out- so, so close to him- and a pain in his chest brought him to his knees before the suffocating darkness brought him all the way down.

After he was healed up and released from medical, he was put on trial and sentenced to serve 2 to 3 years for felony gang activity; two of which he dutifully served in prison, getting a hang of his powers and occasionally convincing guards to put him in isolation when he couldn't keep his walls up. His third year he was put on parole for good behavior, and after that he was a free man.

He began hanging around bars and talking with the bartenders, watching them as they worked and enjoying how most of them kept their thoughts geared toward finishing up and going home. He enjoyed the monotony of it. One day, in a bar he'd been a regular at for a couple years, the owner was scrambling to deal with the crowd due to his bartender coming down with something and none of his on-call employees picking up. Head buzzing from the man's frantic thoughts and feelings- and in a bit of a tight place financially- Donnie offered to cover the night for nothing more than the tips people give him. The rest of the night was spent listening to problems and mopping up spills, reassuring people with the slightest grazing touch. He was given a more permanent position once closing time came around, and he worked there for a year before a recruiter for the club came by and gave him the offer of pay and benefits he couldn't refuse.

He's been working at the club for the past two years now and he's come to enjoy being everyone's confidant, even before they got to the level of drunk that usually comes with oversharing. He likes to think he's cut out his own little corner of the world in the club, and that he's finally found people that would want him; the only reminder of his difficult past being the puckered scars from his teenage years and the indecipherable look he gets when he sees a child with their parents.[/hider]