Dr. John Hamish Watson
That was... Amazing.
Nickname/s: Johnny Boy, Three Continents Watson, Captain John Watson
Age: 39
Sexuality: Predominantly heterosexual
Occupation: Doctor
Accommodation: 221B Baker Street
Personality: John has always tried to be a good man. He likes to help people and he gets an extreme rush from experiencing danger. Putting himself in dangerous situations has become somewhat of an addiction of his. He can't get enough of it. John can have quite the lip on him and is often a bit snarky and sarcastic, especially if someone is beginning to piss him off. Though one should be really careful not to piss him off too much, or else they might end up with a fist to their face and a bloody nose. He's very good at remaining calm in emergency situations, which is necessary for a doctor like himself, especially an army doctor. He works well under pressure and would often be thought of as a good person to have around in a dangerous situation. He is incredibly loyal, though he has very few close friends. However, if John does consider someone a close friend it's likely he'd go to great lengths to protect them. John's also always been a bit of a lady's man. He's easily distracted by an attractive woman and is prone to flirting if he's not already in a committed relationship. Though his endeavors are rarely to be considered entirely successful, especially since moving in with Sherlock Holmes. All those rumours and the limited amount of time available to him while Sherlock's on a case haven't exactly made any of John's girlfriends want to stick around much.
Other attributes/skills: He can play the clarinet
not very well. He's a reasonably strong person, though he's gone a bit softer since returning from Afghanistan. He can be very patient with people at times as he has to be, living with Sherlock, but he also has a very short fuse that will go off often enough. He's a decent enough writer (though not in his flatmate's opinion) with his ever so famous blog about the lives of himself and that detective with the funny hat. John's a crack shot, decent enough to kill someone from a little ways away.
History: He was raised by a mother and father, having a relatively "normal" childhood. His older sister, Harry, was always getting into trouble, so John was usually expected to be the good child. He got fairly good marks in school and did stay out of trouble... for the most part. Even in childhood he couldn't resist rushing into a dangerous situation at times, especially if he was trying to help someone. He studied medicine at Bart's before going off to the war in Afghanistan. He was an army doctor, Captain John Watson of the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers. During his military career John was shot in the shoulder. A nurse named Bill Murray saved his life. John still has nightmares about the war sometimes, having gotten PTSD when he returned to London after his service. But part of him has always been aware that he missed the war, the danger, the thrill of it all. It still haunted him, sure, but he wanted and
needed something dangerous like that in his life. That's why running into Mike Stamford at the park was the best thing that could have happened to him. As soon as Sherlock Holmes came into his life, things would never be the same again for John. The man was completely mad, strange, mysterious, genius, and bloody infuriating. But something about him drew John in and and kept him held. There was the danger of the cases that John couldn't resist, but then there was also the mystery of the man who solved them. Sherlock Holmes was always a wonder to John. He never ceased to amaze him as they grew to become best friends. Now there's nothing on Earth John wouldn't do for him.
RP Example: John shook open his newspaper as he sat in his faded red armchair, hair still slightly damp from the shower he'd taken this morning. He only had time to scan the first few lines of an article before being interrupted by a loud noise coming from the kitchen. He sat up immediately, tossing the paper down on the arm of his chair.
"What the hell was that?!" he shouted, craning his neck around to look into the kitchen. John gave a slight cough as a wisp of smoke blew out from the area. His teeth clenched.
"Sherlock," he growled, rising from his chair to storm into the kitchen. He batted away the smoke from his face, glaring at his flatmate on the other side of the kitchen. His eyes flicked to the microwave and the disfigured remains of he didn't want to know
what sort of body part smoking from inside it. He shook his head angrily at Sherlock, unable to form words at the moment. He most certainly hoped that that bloody genius would be smart enough to keep his mouth shut and clean this mess up himself.
OOC Name: Rags
How did you find us: Google
I have murdered a unicorn.
