hide the key cause im coming overBASICINFORMATIONBASICINFORMATION(FULL NAME)
-ROBERT DAMIEN O'MARA
robert damien o'mara(NICKNAMES)
fair haven, ireland(AGE)
twenty-four(WHERE I STAND)
police officer, part time rugby coach(SEXUAL ORIENTATION)
hayden christensenmy mirrors are stained with portraits of your facePHYSICALAPPEARANCEPHYSICALAPPEARANC(HAIR)
six foot three(WEIGHT)
he'd rather not discuss that(BODY TYPE)
tall and athletic(DISTINGUISHED FEATURES)
scar along his right bicep(PIERCINGS)
marine tat on his leg(PERSONAL STYLE)
Depends if he brushes it or not. Colours easy to do, well I say that but... It’s a mess. It sticks up everywhere. It may look as though it’s never brush, and you’d be right, since it never is. He doesn’t need to brush his hair, for the obvious point that he really doesn’t care. But that’s a little obvious, even to a first glance. He does enough tracking through the brush to just get it messed up by twigs and such like. He does manage to keep it free of twigs, but you can’t help the wind and the rain or the snow. That just messes up a guy’s hair. But then again, Robbie never did mind the rugged, messed up look. Gives the look that he’s actually done a days work, and that’s something everyone should think. He does work hard, since he works mostly on his own, and when he was working with a team it’s not usually for long.
Colour wise it varies. It’s brown, but differently brown. There’s a darker brown near the roots but for some reason that’s never been fathomed, it grown out into a paler brown. No-one knows why, it just does. That’s how things work. It does, on occasion, look blond. Actually on most occasions it looks blond, but that’s just because it’s pale brown. Very pale brown. Excruciatingly pale brown. Okay that was over the top, but you get the whole idea. Its brown, but it looks blond.
It’s not actually strait. Ever. It’s got a slight curve to the sides. I wouldn’t say wavy, I wouldn’t go that far, but it’s not strait. It’s stravey. I shall keep that word forever. But seeing as he wares it so short, it’s hard to tell. Its just hair to him. Not like other guys who spend years on their hair in the morning, Robbie would be spending wasted time, wouldn’t he. It’s growing out of his Marine cut, so it just looks like he doesn’t cut it…which you’ll never believe this but…he doesn’t! If you really want to know the length, say it’s the length of a piece of string.
Robbie’s a tall bloke. Just edging on six foot three inch to be exact. It did mean that he always found it hard to find army camouflage that fitted him. But he managed. He’s a slim figure. Tall and slim, how clichéd. But then again it makes well for what he does best. Even if he is a six foot one 180 bloke, he can perfectly well evade most people who wish to look for him. In any cases, he is pretty tall, and he knows it. It works on boring down on people, which he’s never really liked doing, but really you don’t have to ‘bore’ down on people very much when you have a snipers weapon leaning against your shoulder. Best way to intimidate, do nothing and stare.
He’s muscular, mostly from all the tramping up and down the hill, waiting for the next unsuspecting animal to make its way over to him. But in more ways. He likes to work out a bit, go for a run in the morning, that sort of thing. He’s a very out door kind of guy. He doesn’t go in for the parties and the evenings out unless he’s invited to one. He does own a suit or two, but they seem to gather dust in the back of his wardrobe behind the jeans which he tends to ware more often.
Bone structure wise, he was always going to be a big guy. And six three is pretty big. He’s a hardy guy, born up in the highlands and used to just living through things. He doesn’t mind the hard conditions of Alaska, and his bone structure means that he can just survive them. He was built for the hardest that Ireland could give and he’s not going to let Alaska get the better of him. The easiest, and quickest, way to describe Robbie is athletic. He has the traditional athletic build of muscle. He’s also pretty strong, but then again, he does haul deer to his truck from where he’s been hiding in a tree, that needs a bit of strength, wouldn’t you say.
There’s always something that most people see first, and usually with Robbie it’s the eyes. Most people do notice his eyes first. He does have quite a pale complexion as they go, so the green eyes stand out. They’re not exactly dark they’re just…noticeable. Not very useful, I know. You would say they sparkle, but obviously no eyes actually sparkle in the sense of sparkling. They’re bright and cheerful, reflecting his personality, but they do not sparkle. No eyes sparkle. However, they do in a way, blaze. It’s the first human trait of childish joy. They’re active and lively and are always looking at something. It could be anything really, but it’s not the creepy shifty eye sindrome that makes them look as if they are always moving, afraid at what may be around. No. It’s just the occasional glance this way and that to see what’s there. He’s always had good special awareness, so his eyes do like to see what’s around him, but then again, sometimes he doesn’t care.
The colour is usually what’s interesting. There isn’t one colour you could place on them being. Moss green is too dark, and moss just isn’t what his eyes are. Teal has too much blue in there, and his eyes aren’t really blue at all. Just typical green is probably too dark, since they’re just lighter than that. However, they do tend to take on the colour of what he’s clothed in. Well it sometimes does. Usually does, anyway. So usually in army camo it’s a dark green. If you want to just be easy and not to spend too long discussing eye colour. Robbie’s eyes are green, end of story.
Robbie’s fashion styles have already been stated once or twice along the road. As he spends most of his time wandering through the forests, trying not to be seen, he spends most of his time in green. Army camouflage. Or in his case, Marine camouflage. It does suit him, but that may just be because he’s worn it so much. Black, brown and green sort of became his colours.
Sadly, on some occasions, Robbie cannot go everywhere in his camo, so when he’s at home or just out walking the dogs, he opted for jeans. Jeans are another way of living. He has a large collection of jeans. Many, many, many jeans. Not that you can really call it a collection if he uses them on a daily basis. In any case, Robbie likes jeans. And to go with jeans it doesn’t really matter. Green, black, white, blue. Any sort of shirt. He doesn’t like yellow, but that is of no consequence. Or purple, he’s not really a purple sort of guy. So purple and yellow are off the menu, but other colours he doesn’t really mind at all.
Smart clothes don’t usually appear on Robbie much. He does own two very smart suits, one that as passed down from his father and another that wasn’t. He had to buy one, and the other one was black, so he bought a black one. So that is Robbie’s smart suit clothes. Shirts vary from green to blue to white, depending on the occasion. Then again, he doesn’t have much occasion to ware them at all, so none of them do really get worn.we'll end this tragedy todayHISTORYHISTORYHISTORYHISTORYHISTORY(FATHER)
Robert Primo O'Mara - None - Location: Hopefully, hell(MOTHER)
Anita 'Annie' O'Mara - Accountant - Location: Bristol(SIBLINGS)
Madison and Meredith Eyreland – Twenty six and Eighteen(OTHER NOTABLE FAMILY MEMBERS)
dog - kimmic - cross bred(HISTORY)
Madison O’Mara, his older sister by four years, had always asked when they were taking Robbie back to the shop. Annie O’Mara would just laugh and keep making the dinner. Robbie would sit and look around the kitchen, stroking the family dog, Carrie. Primo O’Mara was seldom home. He spent long hours working at the office, only coming home after eight each night. Eight was early for Primo to come home. Annie was more of a house-wife, seeing as she was mostly on maternity leave. They didn’t have a nanny, so Annie quit her job as an Accountant to work at home with the children.
Robbie started school. A small state school just down the road from the O’Mara’s house. Madison would always take Robbie to school while Annie took care of their youngest sister, Meredith. Robbie was an exceptional student, passing through his first and second years without so much as a blip on his school report.
Madison and Robbie had been walking home when their father’s care pulled up in the drive way. That was an odd occurrence, seeing as it was only half past three. Proceed with caution. Both could hear Meredith crying, a door slamming. Both stayed outside, couldn’t exactly blame them for not wanting to go in, could you. Neither went home that night, staying with the cousins that lived half a mile away. Somehow they didn’t seem so surprised when they told their story of how the door was locked and Primo wouldn’t let them in. Jason O’Mara, Primo’s brother understood perfectly of his brothers “temper”. A normal day at school, a normal day at home. The kitchen clock clicked past six, past seven. Nothing unusual about this. Watching a re-run of a film. The soft knock on the door. Robbie was the first up and at the door. The young boy smiled at the two tall police officers at the door. That was the night his father went to hell. Not literally of course. No, caught in the act of robbery. Fired from his job, left Annie, Robbie, Meredith and Madison without any source of income. Charming.
Robbie’s grades started to drop, and he stopped caring. Homework wasn’t handed in; he got into fights at school. Madison’s as well. Only Meredith stayed on at school, or at least did well in them. Robbie sort of stopped caring, stopped bothering. Annie was back at being an accountant and was offered a job in America, Virginia. By then, Robbie had just finished his A-Levels. He was young to finish them, at just seventeen. He’d been move dup a year, so had done GCSE and SATs a year early as well. The family moved to Virginia. Madison received a middle class, alright paid job as a secretary. Robbie, however, had different plans.
At seventeen he enlisted in the Marines. By his grades and schooling, it would seem that he was eighteen, and therefore old enough to join the Marines. Boot camp was hard work, but he endured and made enough friends to last a life time. Sad that they didn’t exactly last very long.
Such a young age. The helicopter landed with a rush of air and created a hell of a mess. The grass lay out flat on the ground, making an unusual pattern. The Marines took off their helmets and ear phones. The heavy packs were strapped on and in a mob the troop left the copter behind. Robbie looked around, at the black sky, heard the soft rumble and saw the tanks and camouflage. He nudged his buddy, a man called James Riford.
“Nice looking place, eh?”
“Yeah, maybe we’ll rethink the bookings we had at the Ritz.” A tall man in camouflage gear hurried up.
“Alright boys! Welcome to Hell.”
And it was. Explosions plastered the sky. Robbie crouched low in the brush, lining up the cross hairs down his rifle. The bullet took out a computer system thirty yards away, which burst into flame. He winked at James who had just hefted his own weapon onto his shoulder.
“Ready?” James hissed. He turned and crawled, getting out of range.
“James?” Robbie tried again, pressing down harder on the wound. James grunted, his eyes flickering.
“Hey, c’mon.” Robbie tried desperately, looking around. Where was backup!
“I…I guess the…reservations are…off.” James managed a smile, his dark eyes fading.
“No, c’mon. When we get back, I’ll personally call the Ritz and get the best rooms.” Robbie replied, ripping down the length of his sleeve. The rain was heavy and unrelenting.
Robbie hefted James over his shoulder and took the tramp through the undergrowth, keeping to the shadows of trees.
“Gunny!” The hiss came. Robbie turned his head to where the sergeant was. He smiled with relief
“Yes, sir. I understand.” Robbie answered, handing over the paper, signed.
“You were a good Marine, O’Mara.” His commanding officer said, signing his own name.
“Thank-you, sir, but I’ve had enough of war.”
“You keep that silver star clean.” His CO instructed. “Riford wouldn’t want it to gather dust.” Robbie smiled, standing up and shaking his CO’s hand before leaving to catch his train.
Robbie sighed, sitting back against the worn chair of the waiting area. The assisstant before him was typing away furiously, every now and then glancing down at a piece of paper on her desk. A door opened off to his left with the words 'DCI Luke Barrows stencilled on in black.
"Mr. O'Mara?" The Scottish accent asked. Robbie stood up with a smile.
"Yes, sir. That's me." DCI Barrows gave the younger man a smile and opened his door for Robbie to enter.
Sitting down in the comfortable chair opposite DCI Barrows, Robbie took a quick look around the room.
"So, you were a Marine for how many years?" Barrows asked, looking at Robbie's manila reseme file.
"Five years, sir." He replied without hesitation. Seventeen to Twenty Two. Five years abouts.
"And you deployed..."
"Right, and why d'you want to work for the Bloomfield Falls Police Department?"
"I needed a break and it's nice and calm here."
"It'll just be patroling and questioning and generally just keeping the peace down around the town and school. Not as exciting as a deployment." Robbie smiled.
"That's the point, sir."
"Please, no sir. And welcome to the force DI O'Mara."
ANSWERS AND QUESTIONS
Ask no questions, you will be told no liesour time to shine beyond the pavementPERSONALITYPERSONALITYPERSONALITY(LIKES)
• Calm day out
• Trekking – usually up hills
• Amateur photography
• Any good film – knows whatever you’d want to know about the film of your choice
• Any sort of music – excluding any classical
• Vintage cars(DISLIKES)
• Wars – one reason he left the Marines.
• Now, the Navy
• One night stands
• Unsolved cases
• Manila envelopes
• Reading through cold case files or watching CCTV
• Idiots – remember he’s a sniper.
• Romantic novels
• Walking his dog
• Tinkering with his car
• Drinking coffee(FEARS)
• Losing either Meredith or Madison
• Swimming with sharks
• Being poisened
• Not solving a case and therefore many people die.(SECRETS)
• He's killed without orders
• He hates seafood
• Has an honorable discharge
• Never went to collage(DREAMS)
• To be alive, he's not picky(STRENGTHS)
• Staying awake
• Manipulating information
• Keeping on topic
• Attempting to help and failing
• He's a bit soft for a marine
• Can't ride a bike
• Driving safelt(OTHER)
• He thinks to himself a lot
• He's addicted to coffee(PERSONALITY)
Over all, Robbie’s not a very hard guy not to like, but really it just depends what kind of person you like.
He always tries to keep on a cheerful face. There’s nothing like a smile to help you through the day. He may not me n it, but at least he’s still trying. He’s no actor, but you can’t always see through him. He can be an open book, sometimes, but not always. He’s always got what he tries to make a calm exterior. He may be screaming inside, but he’s keeping calm outside. It helps to have no expression when you’re lining up cross hairs. Start to like or feel for the animal and you might not get any dinner that night. He does sometimes look a tad worse for ware, but he can pull over the ‘long night’ and ‘he’s just tired’ exterior and most people leave him alone. In some ways he looks rather bedraggled and that could be for numerous reasons, but his positive attitude means that whatever comes around the corner, Robert O’Mara would most likely meet it with a smile.
Oh he loves a good talk does our Robbie. Grew up in a traditional Irish village, he can drink most people under the table. Not that he’s really one to drink. He can drink and doesn’t mind letting down his guard among friends. In most ways he’s a likeable guy. He has an easy, open exterior. Sadly that’s an act. He’s always been a bit wary about meeting strangers, so if he can act it up enough, people ignore it. Its not that he’s rude to others, to tell the truth he’s probably the most polite person ever. It wouldn’t be surprising if he’s just stepped out of the eighteen fifties. Well maybe it would be, but the point still stands. He’s very polite to strangers. He can talk like there’s no tomorrow, usually to anyone. But not the sort of tell his life story, just involve himself in a conversation and join. He’s good at doing that.
HIS OWN WORKER
Robbie knows where his place is and he knows it’s not at the front lines. He likes being more of the backstage crew rather than the cast. He’ll always strive to do his best, or at least what he considers his best. He’s a hard worker, so his best can be rather…more than others. In the Marines he’d pushed his squad when their commander had taken a fall. However, he knows when to stop. That doesn’t mean he will stop, but he knows when to let others take a breather as not to kill them. He is a man that knows his own boundaries, but he can usually push himself beyond them, even if it’s not his best work that will come out at the end. Robbie’s contented to live his own life as he wants, not what others want and he will live it as he wishes. Sometimes it benefits others, sometimes he doesn’t.
Robbie’s not usually one to rush into things. He’ll think about things, judge and contemplate. He considers risks as if he was an insurance company. He’s good to have in a crisis as he can make decisions, he hates to and sometimes they will be the wrong ones. He’s a guy who likes to take him time, and he will take his time if he has the time. He does keep his head, even if he really doesn’t like the situations. He likes to think through the options rather than just pick the easiest or the quickest. There’s usually a safest, quickest, easiest and best. He tries to find the best rather than all the others. He likes to be thorough rather than sorry.
For heavens sake. He sits in a tree branch all day looking for a deer to come past. That’s got to add up to patient. He doesn’t really mind the solitude as long as he’s going to get something out at the end. Things need to ass up and he can wait forever to make sure they do. He’s not one to believe in coincidences, there’s a reason for everything.
Robbie doesn’t generally shout, he has no need to. Or for that matter talk at all unless he has to: hence the ability to sit in a tree all day. He does have the thoughts in his head, but then most people do. Although most people only have one, he has two. If they were written down on paper they would be in black and red, why, no-one knows. However, when he wants to and when he needs to he can talk to Australia and back, an easy and effective way to distract people. Mostly he does keep to himself though. He knows the consequences of speaking up in the wrong moment, and he does care for those around him. Talking brings about things no-one wants so he learnt to keep quiet and just let himself think of ways out or around obstacles. He can look after himself if worse comes to worse; at least he thinks he can. He’s not one to boast and prefers to keep quiet.
He loves a good laugh does Robbie. He’s got a big sense of humor, could be something to do with the thoughts that constantly fight in his head, but maybe not. He hates to see things and people depressed, as for one reason he left the force. Its rare that he himself gets depressed and if he does, he gets over it quickly, or as quickly as possible. Anything involving depression is swept aside and if it can’t be, he keeps it to himself, whatever the cost. He keeps himself in any cases from falling into the pit of depression usually by thinking about his luck. He seems to have been born under a lucky star, did our Robbie.(AND...)
Rouge Irish Shooter
Ask Jude, he knows the secrets of the cosmos!:How Did You Find You?
-------------------------------- application made by WHIMZY , of CAUTION 2.0. This post has been edited by robbie damien o'mara on Apr 12 2009, 08:37 AM
steal, and choke! ( Edits by Kayla )