Post by Bobby Singer on Dec 10, 2010 12:23:02 GMT -8
Robert Steven Singer
-BASIC INFORMATION-
Full Name: Robert Steven Singer
Preferred Name or Nickname: Bobby
Original/Canon: Canon
Age: 54
Date of Birth: August 12, 1960
Main Character Classification - (List): Human
Character Type: Hunter
Power(s): None
Sexuality: Straight
Side(Good, Evil, or Neutral): Good
Hometown: Sioux Falls, South Dakota
Current Residence:
-DETAILS-
Eye Color: Blue
Hair Color: Brown
Height: 6’1
Body Type: Bulky, broad shouldered, strong
Distinguishing Marks: None
Tattoos and Piercings: Anti-Possession Tattoo after a nasty run in with that damn demon Meg
Vehicle (if you wish): Blue Ford tow-truck with South Dakota plates: 9NO3L1. That’s right he managed to keep his truck.
Personal Style (write a short paragraph):
Bobby has never been one for fashion. After his wife died he didn’t bother looking nice. Jeans, t-shirts, and old trucker caps are what he likes to wear. The apocalypse didn’t change that. In fact if anything it made him fit in more since everyone had to grunge down. If he remembers he’ll take a comb to his hair, but really, who has the time to look all fancy.
-PERSONAL INFORMATION-
Likes (3 at least):
-Peach Cobbler
-Working on his truck
-Drinking
-Walking
-Bonfires
-Putting the Winchester’s in their place when the need calls for it
Dislikes (3 at least):
-Croats
-Lucifer
-All this damn hunting
-Peas
-People who can’t pull their weight
-Morons
-Idgits
Strengths (3 at least):
-His knowledge of the supernatural and strategic abilities as he’s a seasoned hunter
-His quick comebacks
-His knowledge of weapons
Weaknesses (3 at least):
-The damn Winchester’s
-He’s getting old, therefor slower
-The fact that he cares too much sometimes
Dreams for the Future:
That they’ll get Sam back from Lucifer and end this damn apocalypse. Then he can retire and eat his peach cobbler in peace.
Fears:
He’s gonna die before the war is over.
Hero(es):
John Winchester – The man was his friend and sacrificed a helluva lot for his boys and the fight.
Biggest Secret(s):
Personality (write a decent paragraph):
Bobby ain’t never been no fanciful type gentlemen. He’s a simple and to the point kind of man. He doesn’t like dealing with too much drama. Chuck that day time soap opera, boohoo crying crap at the window and get done what needs to be done. He don’t have time to deal with idjits or people who can’t hold their own. He calls it how he see’s it and if you don’t like it well too damn bad!
At least that’s what it seems like on the outside. On the inside he really has a soft nougat center that every once in a while he shows to others. He ain’t real good with all that sentimental crap, but every once in a while it peeks through. Especially if a pretty girl offers him peach cobbler.
-CHARACTER HISTORY-
Father: Mr. Poppa Singer - Deceased
Mother: Mrs. Momma Singer - Deceased
Sibling(s): None
Children: Seriously? No.
Other Family: (close family) The Winchesters, Karen Singer - Deceased
"Family Don't End with Blood": (close friends) Ellen, Jo, various other hunters that have survived.
History:
Bobby grew up your average smart mouthed, pain in the ass kid. He had a love for cars and fixing him up so he did what any sane person would do and opened a salvage yard in the small town of Sioux, South Dakota. It wasn’t long after that he met the only love of his life, Karen. They lived in peace, humbled, small town folks, until Bobby came home from the bar one night to find his beloved wife possessed by a demon. Though he sure as hell didn’t know that’s what it was at the time. He wound up killing her, and has never forgiven himself for it.
After that he delved into the world of hunting, meeting other hunters, learning what he could, and around the late eighties he ran into a wet behind the ears hunter by the name of John Winchester. Yes, the John Winchester. Now some might think that the two hit it off and were destined to be life long pals.
That ain’t so. In fact that couldn’t hardly stand to be around one another at first. Good thing they didn’t have to be. Wasn’t until they got wind of a nasty shtriga that the two bunkered down on a hunt together and came to a mutual understanding. They saved each other’s asses, and Bobby found respect for John.
Course them snot nosed brats were another story. At least that’s what hell say if anyone asks. He’s known them since they were tikes, watching em grow and he had a fondness for the two ever since he laid eyes on them. Rambunctious boys, Bobby watched over them more than once while John was following a lead on a hunt. It didn’t take long for the Winchesters to become like family.
As time went on and John died, the devils gate opened, Sam died, Dean died, it was like a damn whirlwind of chaos. Sam came back at the expense of Dean’s soul. Dean came back when that flyboy Castiel ripped him from perdition. Seriously the Winchester’s have more lives than cats! Who the hell can keep up?
They went on fighting, trying to stop the apocalypse. Bobby had a run in with Meg that left him paralyzed from the waist down, and wouldn’t you know that damn flyboy lost his powers just before? Seemed Bobby was destined to be in a wheel chair. At least for a while.
While attempting to deter the apocalypse Bobby made a deal with Crowley. (The picture was tampered with I tell you!) Supposedly his soul was supposed to be pawned, course that ain’t the way things work. Crowley still has his soul, but at the moment Bobby still has his legs. When the time comes, he’ll get his soul back too.
Try as they might they weren’t able to deter the apocalypse. Sam became Lucifer’s meat suit and the croat virus spread throughout the world. Now, like everyone else, Bobby is in the fight to survive. He travels throughout the survivor camps, often trying to make sure the roads are safe and supplies get where needed. Bobby goes where he’s needed most, working to save as many people as he can. Save humanity or go down swingin!
-FINAL DETAILS-
Other Details You'd Like to Add:
Face Claim: Jim Beaver
Beaver, Jim
x
x
xSinger, Robert
RP Sample (required):
Bobby watched as the group continuously argued over which plan of action was best. All these youngins around here made him feel damn old. Worst part was, half of em' had never even lifted a gun before the outbreak. Didn't know what the hell they were doin' to begin with.
Rolling his eyes with a shake of his head, Bobby just couldn't take it anymore. "Oh shut up!" He yelled over top of them. All their mouths closed and their eyes came to rest on him. "Y'all are worse than nagging women!" He walked over and looked at the map.
"Get your head out of your asses. This ain't no high school football game, girls!" He set his rifle down on the table and leaned over the map. "You don't seem to realize that it's life or death out there. Plan don't go right, you or someone else is likely dead or worse!"
He saw them shuffling on their feet. Damn he missed the good old days. With trained hunters instead of these snot nosed, rugrats practically still wet nursing from their mamma's tit. "Pay attention ladies and maybe a croat won't take a chunk out of your pretty little asses."
I, Robert Steven Singer, have read the SITE PLOT and RULES and hereby agree to follow them, and stay true to the guidelines set by the site staff and to the ideals set in Supernatural.
