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Played by Cantos ➢ Offline
Spouse ➢ No Information
Play-by ➢ Michael Hudson
➢ Not Sharing Play-by
|AGE||JOB||HAIR COLOR||EYE COLOR|
|Twenty-Six||Meteorologist w/Channel 4||Black||Brown|
AppearanceHe has the looks of his ancestors, of his parents. Both of which are members of the Cherokee Nation, one of the Five Civilized Tribes of North America. Standing at a lanky six feet and two inches, and coming in at a buck ninety-eight or raw bones and sinewy muscle. His stature is that of a wide shouldered, slim hipped man, with a wiry sort of ruggedness that is often polished, buffed, if you will while he’s on camera. There is a smile that is gentile as it can be toothy, and given how he can ham it up for the camera, his features are often given to being animated as a mood might strike him. He can be quiet, serious, he can be silly and funny. It all depends. He has a build honed from time spent at the gym, and oddly enough – an affection for the great outdoors. After all, what sort of weatherman doesn’t like being outside?
He has a perchance for wearing jeans that are faded and worn white at the seams in the seat, and button down shirts negligently tucked into the low rise of those jeans when he’s not on camera. On camera? He’s all about that suit, those fancy tied knots and a perfectly crisp handkerchief. His hair though long, is often worn in a braid while ‘working’ and loose when at play. All depends though, again – on that mood.
HistoryHis is a rich history, dating back to long before there was ever the Trust. Back to well before there was ever an America really. But those days, and that past are long gone and what was left shone still, and not for a lack of many parties throughout that long history’s want of trying.
Juniper and J.R. Cloudkicker welcomed their one and only child into the world on November the 4th, 2164 and named him after two prominent members of the Cherokee Nation’s history. Col. William Penn Adair and William “Roy” Rogers, with a nod to another historical figure of some note, Sequoyah who is lauded for the Syllabary of the Cherokee Language, and as a result also considered an inventor of a writing system.
Can you tell his parents were big into not only their history, but their heritage yet?
So as his own story goes, his parents were proud. His mother was a fully devoted Trust wife, who had a long standing love affair with the order and regularity of what the Trust brought to their lives. Their people had been praised since the coming of the Europeans as to how “civilized” they could be, as they often took customs from these new settlers and integrated them with their own culture. Such was the way when it came to the Trust.
Having no other siblings lent an air of isolation for him at times, but his mother and the extension of his family helped to soothe the ache for others to call kin. He was always close to his mother, much to his father’s chagrin, though he never did skirt the chores assigned to him on their little plot of land way out in the middle of no-where Oklahoma, as his father was a farmer by heart. It is a point of great pride for his father to provide the wheat, the corn and melons that people enjoy. All because of the generosity of the Trust, he’d say.
Adair never fails to go home on holidays, and calls his momma regular. She is the Queen of Hearts to him.
As with every child born to Oologah, Oklahoma and into the arms of the Trust, he went to boarding school which was also tuned into the heritage of the residents who lived there. As a result, his linguistic skills were supplemented with the Cherokee language, as they were with English. He would be at least to his people, bi-lingual. He had his parents to thank for that, and his extended family. His Tribe. They kept their language alive, not simply orally, but in written form as well.
It was while he was in school that he ultimately chose which profession he wanted to go into. Of course, he had to submit to the Trust, but knew that if he was focused on his studies, that ultimately he would prove out right into the profession he wanted. There were a great many things he’d learned to love about his People, their Land, and their heritage. One of those things were the stories about the Cloud-Talkers, men and women who could read the sky, and “know” what nature was bringing their way.
Talk about cool, right?
For as long as he could remember, he’d wanted to be a meteorologist. Proving himself at having an aptitude required more than simply going to school and learning the science of it though. He sought out the wise men and women of his people, namely he sought the people of the ‘a ni wo di’, those of the Paint Clan. His father had been a member before he’d married his mother, who had been a member of the ‘a ne go ti ge wi’ or Wild Potato Clan. Each had it’s reason for being. One was for the medicine men, and seers, the others the farmers and gatherers of their esteemed People. And so he learned, to read the signs and taste the air, to blend science with tradition.
When he tested out of school, which seemed to take forever – slid comfortably into the role of a weatherman. His time with his sponsors was fun, filled with discovery and steam. Adair wasn’t a man who could say ‘no’ to what a woman wanted, but there were times when his patience wore thin. Especially when it came to a woman pulling on his hair. He wore it long, braided for work and loose when he wasn’t – and the contention of that was a constant thing. So it was noted down, many a time that petting was okay, but pulling? So out of the question.
Like most people in the media, you move around – going from city to city and job to job until you land, “the one!” and land he did, in a city called Tidewater. He’s been there for about five years, and having moved around a lot, was never quite seen as ready for the Draft. He didn’t mind. He knew that eventually the Trust would see it in their wisdom, once he was settled with a good steady fit of a job to match him with his Miss Right.
Question is, will she pass muster with his mother?
Channel Four is where he calls home, and every morning before the crack of dawn he is wandering the halls, going over the mornings news and reports from NOAA, or rather, what was left of NOAA. His wardrobe tends to be severe in looks, the cut just giving enough to show off the clean manner of a man whose heritage is stamped all over those raw-boned, bronze features. They show off well to the camera, and he comes across as an affable guy whose weather reports are always spot on.
It was the science, he’d say. It had nothing to do with the dreams, or the desires to watch a storm whip about him, or to feel the rain soaking him through. It was just the science, he’d tell the Trust. And nothing more.
Birthdate: Nov. 4, 2164
Bad Habits: Taps his fingers rhythmically when seated, has a fixation with brushing his teeth multiple times a day.
Turn-Ons: Soft skin, long hair and a great smile
Turn-Offs: Women pulling his hair like it's a 'thing'
hair color preference: Any
eye color preference: Any
draft position: Neutral
premarriage y/n: No
skinned exclusively for the draft by saramonster
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