And here we go:

[hider=Kent Archer][hr][center]
[img]https://i.imgur.com/onSQHLD.jpg[/img]
[img]https://i.imgur.com/YJxZBrY.png[/img][/center]
[indent][indent][indent][color=gray]Kenneth, or Kent, is a native to Bainbridge Island. Like many others who came before him, he grew up exploring the natural wildlife trails, camping, and fishing on the sound. He fell in love with the picturesque environment and became an aspiring outdoorsman. Of course, his parents had more ambitious plans for their son, such as attending medical school to become a doctor, but that did not stop him from answering his true calling and returning to his roots. Naturally, when the time came for him to open up his own family practice, he chose to settle back down in Bainbridge.

Things remained small those first several years, his quaint office along the waterfront consisting of only himself, his friend Jerry, who served as his assistant, and his wife Emily as his personal secretary and receptionist. Even when word began to spread of his reputation as a humble and competent physician, Kent preferred to keep his practice small and manageable. This allowed for a more personable experience for his patients, and even accounted for quite a few friendships over the years. The only notable addition he made was his son, Curt, who joined the team as a second physician at the age of 29. Kent hoped that he would serve as heir for when he moved on to pursue other ventures.  

Unfortunately, that would happen sooner rather than later. With the increase of big business and other residential and retail development in the area, the health care system became more standardized and strict with their procedures. As a result, more hospitals joined together into networks to coordinate and deliver a broad spectrum of services to the community and to stay up to date with the current initiatives passed down from the government. They often targeted small private practices to consolidate into their system; Kent’s family business was no exception. 

Despite a hard battle, Kent could not withstand the constant pressure from these entities and ultimately decided to retire. His son, however, did not agree to follow in his father’s footsteps; he caved to the hospital networks and joined their team of doctors, causing a falling out between father and son. Kent has not spoken to Curt in nearly two years, his decision continuing to remain a point of contention between the two.

Now that he is retired, Kent finally has the time to fully embrace and appreciate the natural beauty of the landscape he came to love as a child. He has opened a bait and tackle shop and occasionally conducts fishing excursions for the tourists...or anyone willing to pay for his services. He remains close to his wife and his best friend Jerry, who is often seen hanging around the shop with the usual crowd of middle-aged prattlers and retirees. Life couldn’t be any better.[/color][/indent][/indent][/indent]


[hr]
[u][b][color=CD853F]Physical Traits[/color][/b][/u]
[indent][color=gray]Now that he no longer has to worry about maintaining a professional appearance in front of his patients, Kent has adopted a more rugged look in recent years. Depending on your opinion, some may call it disheveled or lazy. Tired, blue eyes peer out of a weathered face with grizzled features, a layer of stubble often covering his chin and cheeks. His shock of gray hair, while still kept at an acceptable length, is often tousled and greasy. He may have also grown a little soft around the middle with age, but he has managed to sustain an average weight for his fairly tall frame, standing at nearly 6’2.”

Kent’s clothes are what many would consider typical for the outdoorsman – plaid, flannel shirts, sometimes quilted depending on the weather, Carhartt jacket, sturdy boots, and a pair of dependable blue jeans.[/color][/indent]
[b][u][color=CD853F]Full Name[/color][/u][/b]
[indent][color=gray]Kenneth William Archer[/color][/indent]
[b][u][color=CD853F]Gender[/color][/u][/b]
[indent][color=gray]Male[/color][/indent]
[b][u][color=CD853F]Ethnicity[/color][/u][/b]
[indent][color=gray]Caucasian[/color][/indent]
[b][u][color=CD853F]Sexuality[/color][/u][/b]
[indent][color=gray]Heterosexual[/color][/indent]
[b][u][color=CD853F]Age[/color][/u][/b]
[indent][color=gray]63[/color][/indent]
[b][u][color=CD853F]Motives[/color][/u][/b]
[indent][color=gray]Having raised a family and worked for nearly 40 years of his life, Kent is on the downward slide and is seeking enlightenment more than anything. He is looking to find contentment for himself and his current situation, especially as he heads into his waning years. That is why he has turned his attention to nature; it is the one thing that brings him the most joy and helps him to fully relax. After all, the goal is to [i]enjoy[/i] his retirement...even if it was thrust upon him by circumstances that were beyond his control. For that reason alone, he may also hold a bit of a grudge against those responsible.

And while he will never openly admit it, even to those close to him, Kent is also hoping to reconcile with his son and make amends for the incident that drove them apart. He still loves him and wants to share his life with him once more.[/color][/indent]
[b][u][color=CD853F]Occupation[/color][/u][/b]
[indent][color=gray]Retired Family Physician; he now owns and operates a small bait and tackle shop on the waterfront.[/color][/indent]
[hr]
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[hider=Writing Sample]


[color=A52A2A]“Rosa. Rosa Ramirez.”[/color]

With a cynical scoff, Kent Archer set down the coffee pot and turned to regard the imposing man sitting in his usual spot near the door in the antiquated lawn chair, worn and frayed around the edges. He knew that it wasn’t the most appealing of first impressions for his customers, particularly the tourists, but Kent was willing to give it a pass. After all, it [i]almost[/i] seemed to fit with the rugged charm of his shop, complete with the various fish mounts decorating the walls and the distinct earthy smell that had permeated the small space long ago.

But of course, there was also another reason for his complacency; the man sitting in that chair was one of his oldest friends, Ray Marston. Kent had met the old bastard back in college, and the two had remained close ever since, often taking weekend excursions up into the hills when the weather decided to cooperate. He couldn’t just displace the man, especially when he had grown accustomed to listening to Marston’s incessant ramblings. His day wouldn’t have been complete without the usual banter.

In this case, he did not disappoint. The topic of the day had turned toward the elusive Rosa Ramirez. Kent had known her in passing, having attended several classes with her back in the day. What he didn’t realize was that Marston had felt more than a simple attraction to the woman. He now took great pleasure in learning the hard facts as his friend told the tale. 

[color=A52A2A]“She was wicked and wild,”[/color] Ray continued in his rich baritone, shaking his head with a wry grin.

This elicited a small chuckle from Kent, who pressed his back up against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest. [color=CD853F]“Oh no, here it comes…”[/color]

[color=A52A2A]“Hey, this is no lie.”[/color] Ray raised his hand defensively, lifting his brow as if to challenge Kent to continue down that path. [color=A52A2A]“It was 1985. Rosa...she was the one. I’m telling you, the one that got away.”[/color]

Kent ran a hand through his hair with exasperation. [color=CD853F]“Ah, shit,”[/color] he muttered as he pivoted on his heel and returned his attention to the coffee pot. [color=CD853F]“I think I better pour you a cup before you go ahead and confess the rest of your dirty secrets to the entire city. I don’t think Maggie would appreciate that too much.”[/color]

Marston smirked at the mention of his wife. [color=A52A2A]“Hell, sometimes I think she would join in just to embarrass me...she loves to see me squirm. You know how that is.”[/color]

[color=CD853F]“Maybe a little too well.”[/color] He returned the smile and stepped around the counter to hand the other man a ceramic mug.

As Marston cupped the mug in both hands and nodded his gratitude, the bell above the door jangled as it swung open to admit a tall, bearded man with thinning gray hair and his hands stuffed deeply into the pockets of his denim jacket. Kent recognized Jerry Farmer instantly; the two had grown up together on the same street and were practically inseparable. Jerry later served as Kent’s assistant for nearly 40 years at his family practice before the system forced them both to retire. Now they were content to simply hang out at his shop, sharing old memories and gossiping about the happenings in the city. Their friendship never waned throughout the years, and along with Ray, they completed a perfect trinity that could never be shaken.  

[color=CD853F]“Mornin', Jerry,”[/color] Kent called with a casual wave, returning to his post behind the counter with a leisurely gait.  

Stomping his boots on the mat out of habit, Jerry acknowledged the two men with a curt nod before proceeding to his usual spot next to the register. He raked his fingers through his beard and exhaled heavily. [color=4169E1]“You know I’m not one to rush in here and demand food, but damn...I’m hungry.”[/color] He lifted his chin, gesturing towards Kent. [color=4169E1]“You got anything back there while you fix me up some coffee?”[/color]

An impish smirk slowly came to Kent’s features. [color=CD853F]“Well, let’s see,”[/color] he drawled slowly, pausing to study Jerry carefully. Despite his playful disposition, his voice held a certain calm. [color=CD853F]“I’ve got some cheese and crackers, some summer sausages, there’s tomatoes...I think.”[/color] He shrugged, almost as if he was mentally checking off items on his list. [color=CD853F]“Uh, there’s peaches I got at the farm stand. There might be some corn somewhere. Hamburger in the fridge, noodles in the closet.”[/color]

Jerry’s brow furrowed with uncertainty, seemingly at a loss for words. It took all of Kent’s willpower not to break his composure, especially when the other man actually pushed away from the counter to go searching for the aforementioned delicacies.

He started to step around Kent, but then stopped, angling his chin to give his friend a suspicious look. [color=4169E1]“You’re shitting me, aren’t you?”[/color]

This time there was no holding back; both Kent and Ray burst out laughing at Jerry’s expense. [color=CD853F]“I think there’s some peanuts somewhere,”[/color] Kent admitted after he managed to bring himself under control, [color=CD853F]“or you can help yourself to the snack aisle. My treat. I just had a delivery this morning and all the shelves are stocked. I even got a bunch of those little creme cakes you like so much.”[/color]

[color=4169E1]“Sounds like a nutritious breakfast, Kent,”[/color] Jerry sighed with a hint of sarcasm, a smile turning up one corner of his mouth. [color=4169E1]“I wouldn’t expect anything less.”[/color]

[color=A52A2A]“Hey, Jerry!”[/color] Ray interjected, leaning forward in his lawn chair. [color=A52A2A]“Have I told you about Rosa Ramirez?”[/color]

And on and on it went.

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