[hider=David Sawyer][center][h1][color=lightblue][b]David Sawyer[/b][/color][/h1]
[img]http://cdn.collider.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/06/jeffrey-dean-morgan-supernatural-431x600.jpg[/img]
| [color=lightblue][b]Photography[/b][/color] | [color=red]Loud Noises (PTSD trigger)[/color] | [color=lightblue][b]Apple Pie[/b][/color] | [color=red]Confined Spaces[/color] |[/center]


[color=lightblue][b]Physical Description:[/b][/color] David stands 5'10" and weighs roughly 206 pounds. Not exactly a tall, strapping man, David is relatively average-sized; with an athletic build that has clearly seen the wrong end of age, a minor pot belly and muscles that have given way to flab in places. His normally dark brown hair is peppered with grey in places, especially around the sides of his head, and is kept short and neat as is appropriate for his job. Along with this, he maintains a neat, if light, beard, the hair also brown and grey with his age. His eyes are brown and his features are slightly wrinkled from age and experience, crows feet at the corners of his eyes and wrinkles over his forehead. His normally rather pale skin is almost permanently tan from all his time spent under the hot, blazing sun, taking photos of wild animals, marathons and sports events. He has tan lines in the form of his watch on his right wrist and on his shoulders from the short-sleeved shirts he would wear to such events. A scar exists on David's face, a small one that crosses the bridge of his nose.

His normal clothing style is simple and rugged; David likes to wear either a brown leather jacket or a short-sleeved, collared shirt, with a white tank top underneath. The man only has a few pairs of jeans, mostly blue, and as such all of them display rugged wear across the knees and rims of the legs that are all part of the years and years of use. David normally wears a pair of leather loafers to work or out to relax, and a pair of brown hiking shoes if he's going out for a long walk in the park or going out of town. David also has several items that are considered part of his 'signature' look; a gun-metal grey diving watch purchased as a thirtieth birthday gift, that always sits on his right wrist. A black DSLR that almost always hangs from his neck. A weathered brown leather biker jacket with a small icon of a film camera stitched onto the left breast.

[color=lightblue][b]Age:[/b][/color] 48

[color=lightblue][b]Relationship with Hildon:[/b][/color] Tourist and visitor.

[color=lightblue][b]Occupation:[/b][/color] Professional photographer.

[color=lightblue][b]Useful Supplies:[/b][/color]
[list][*] Cold weather clothing; David always has at least a thick jacket with him, woollen gloves and thick pants. 
[*] Satchel bag; enough to fit his camera, laptop, journal and some writing implements.
[*] Canon DSLR Camera; his pride and joy and his main weapon in his quest to capture nature's beauty.
[*] Frost-proof, waterproof, pressure-resistant wristwatch; a gift on his thirtieth birthday. 
[*] Survival Swiss Army Knife; comes with as many tools as he has loose change in his pocket.[/list]

[color=lightblue][b]Backstory:[/b][/color]
David was born and raised in Boston, Massachusetts, going to school there, attending yearly festivals and growing up alongside a small, close group of friends that stuck with him all through grade school. High school split up their little clique but they almost always met after class was over for the day, drinking milkshakes and playing tag. He took an early interest in documenting the escapades of him and his friends, at first through the media of drawing, but when that failed him, his father suggested the next best thing: a camera. His dad, a photographer by hobby, had an old film camera in his closet that he let his son borrow when he was old enough. All through his teens, David took photos of his adventures, developing the pictures and even scribbling little blurbs about what he and his friends had done that day, like cycling up to the city limits and back, or watching a sunset in the park.

When he graduated, David took his scrapbook of photos and, for a time, sold his services as a freelance photographer. In his neighbourhood, business was brisk; weddings, special occasions, anniversaries and festivals were part and parcel of his life for roughly two years. It was then that a smaller magazine took notice and sent him a letter asking if he would like to be employed at their office as one of their photographers. He readily agreed and began work for the zine, helping the small company to cover every little event that went on in the city. In between reports and work, David took time out of his schedule to submit some of his better pictures to national competitions, calendars and photography magazines. Most of his work wasn't up to par, but he earned himself several honourable mentions and smaller spots in minor photography magazines.

A few years passed in a flash. By then, David had built himself a rep, both within his neighbourhood and around the city at large, as a budding young photographer with promising work, an eye for detail and a heart for telling stories. He had gone from being merely a photographer to a full-blown photojournalist, having a small column to himself about his 'Photo of the Week', where he showcased his best photograph he'd taken that week and wrote a few paragraphs about how and where he'd taken it, among other things. David was a familiar face around town, so it came as a surprise when he told his boss that he was going to leave for a few months. When prodded as to why, he told him that he had accepted a brief overseas contract; to help further his reputation and to provide him with an opportunity, a humanitarian magazine based in New York City had offered to send him with a UN aid convoy in Mogadishu, attaching him there over the course of three months to both help out and to take photos of them. It was an opportunity he couldn't pass up, and later that year, David left his quiet home in Boston.

It would turn out to be the lowest point of his life. In those three months, he would take photos of some of the worst human suffering he'd ever seen, in the worst conditions. Helpless to do anything except work and watch, David fell to drugs to help himself cope. It didn't help that they were in a rough part of the world, feeding his addiction until his contract was up and he returned to Boston a changed man. Those around him saw the change; a gaunt, almost phantasmal image of his former self. He submitted himself for rehab and went clean, but the process took months, if not years, to return David to a semblance of the way he was before. He'd left his job in the interim and found some solace in taking photographs of nature and wildlife, and so he committed himself to that art to keep himself on the straight and narrow.

And so David Sawyer went from investigative photojournalist to plain photographer. Resting on his old laurels and using his old talents, but not for anything else other than his own personal portfolio and a little blog he maintains, his ongoing journey to catalogue America's hidden gems took him to Hildon.[/hider]