MCQWIN, Archer James

[Archer McQwin]

ARCHER, MCQWIN
PLAYED BY : (James McAvoy)

THE CHARACTER

FULL NAME: Archer James McQwin
NICK NAMES: Arch
PREFERRED NAME: Anything but Archie
AGE: Thirty-three
GENDER: Male
OCCUPATION: Mail production assistant (sorting all incoming and interoffice mail and packages for delivery, also courier pickup/delivery)
HOME REGION: Northwest (currently lives in northeast)
PREFERRED WEAPONS: Aluminum baseball bat and a small switchblade he pocketed from a dead neighbor

PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION: Standing at 5'7" tall and weighing roughly 143 pounds, Archer McQwin is hardly what you would call an intimidating man. Matter of fact one of more common insults thrown at him were along the lines of 'scrawny'. His face is defined by arched eyebrows, sharp blue eyes which seem a bit bulged out due to his baggy/shadowy under eyes (from poor sleeping habits), and a large nose. Despite his (at least in his own mind) "flaws" Archer is a relatively good looking man, however he would never recognize this.

Arch has a typical Wyoming dialect which contrasts the majority of the citizens of New York (where he lives -or rather, lived- currently). He normally walks at a sluggish pace with a bit of a slouch, which makes his overall appearance look pretty uninterested and unmotivated.

When actually seen in public he usually dawned his work uniform (underneath a relatively warm black jacket. Arch never really got used to the 'nippiness' of New York). Not on shift (which meant he was bumming around his apartment) Archer would most likely walk around his apartment in his boxers and a plain white t-shirt.

PERSONALITY: Pessimist/closed off Archer wouldn't be as bored, uninterested, and empty looking if he thought on the bright side once and a while. Perhaps he finds it difficult to find a diamond among stones because his life has been steadily going downhill. Arch prefers to keep to himself and hole himself up in his apartment when he finishes his shifts at work. Archer isn't a lonely fellow, he just can't seem to see the point of making friends when he figures he's only going to end up talking to them once and a great while.

Low self-esteem Archer's low self esteem started off when he was a young boy. Constant teasing bout his thin frame and closed off nature knocked Arch off his pedestal long before he even had a chance to develop an ego. His esteem is also hindered by a large amount of regret. Archer is well aware of his failures and mistakes in life and constantly wishes things could have gone differently. However, his esteem is so low (and he's so caught up in the past) that he doesn't take current opportunities to better help himself. Arch isn't the type of person to wear his self-esteem on his sleeve. To other's he acts like a normal guy with a normal level of self worth. He has a tendency to keep most of his mental health issues to himself.

Undedicated Seeing Arch make a strong commitment is like seeing a dog walk on its hind legs. It hadn't always been this way, but Arch did a complete 180 and dropped all of his commitments and picked up and left his family. Now Arch has no motivation to stick to anything which makes his work ethic mediocre at best. He has gone through plenty of jobs in New York and feels little attachment toward any of them (and anything else he choses to do). Perhaps this is why he can't have a steady girlfriend.

Nostalgic Thinking and dwelling on the past is what this guy does best. He holds onto (good and bad) memories and longs, worries, or regrets parts of them. If you ever see Archer blank out or see him with a sorrowful look on his face it's your best bet that he is thinking about his past.

Hardy Archer wouldn't have made it this far if he wasn't a hardy sort. He takes all the bad things in life with stride (and suppresses them into a nice big ball of insecurities and anxieties). He can take a lot and still get right back up and keep trucking along.

Secretive, short fused, and suppressive It doesn't take long for this guy to get irritated, however, because he has a tendency to suppress negative things in his life he rarely expresses his anger straight forwardly. Arch is more of a passive-aggressive type and would probably end up ignoring someone long before he would snap at them. There are a few touchy subjects that get Arch flying off the handle quite quickly, despite his passive-aggressive tendencies (commenting on his lack of direction in life, bringing up how well off he used to be in the past, etc). He also has parts of his life he never discusses with anyone and it's his life goal to never allow his secrets to be recognized or acknowledged by even himself.

LIKES

• Watching horror movies
  
• Biology of all sorts (minus marine)
  
• His little brother Morton
  
• Relaxing
  
• Chewing on straws
  

DISLIKES

• His mother
  
• Bodies of water
  
• Swimming
  
• His job
  
• Nagging
  

HISTORY BEFORE: Archer James McQwin grew up in Cheyenne, Wyoming in a single parent household with his mother and two brothers. His father disappeared after impregnating Margaret McQwin for the third time without as much as a word (five years later she found out from a family friend that he left her for another woman in Chicago Illinois). Archer was seven years old when his father left, and was not nearly as devastated at the fact as his nine year old brother Felix (Arch spent more time with his mother while Felix was vice versa).

The single parent household managed along well, and Archer and his brothers were brought up quite nicely. Archer got decent grades and had a relatively pleasant childhood. He would spend a lot of his time exploring the woods area with his older brother, or playing nicely with the neighborhood kids. However, there was a major pitfall in Archer's childhood, and that was bullying. Bullying was a constant factor in Archer's life with the majority of it coming from his older brother. It seemed that his older brother blamed Archer for their father leaving him, and treated his younger brother pretty poorly from then on.

When Arch was fourteen years old his brother drowned in a large, unexpectedly deep, pond in the woods. Felix's death affected everyone. Arch became more quiet, distant, and introverted, Morton became extra clingy, and Margaret became overly critical towards Archer. From then on it was constant nagging, worrying, nosing around, and criticism coming from his mother.

Archer failed to make any lasting friendships in middle school or high school, and he tended to be what people would call the shy-awkward-loner type. During those stages Archer slid by life under the radar, doing his homework without a peep and ignoring his mothers remarks.

He eventually attended a fairly well to do college in Wyoming and majored in biology (one of his constant and favorite interests). Getting away from his mother helped Archer relax and become a bit more sociable. He enjoyed his years at college quite a bit, and only had to deal with his mother during the school breaks. Though, a mere semester before graduation Archer simply picked up everything and moved to New York, New York. He dropped out of college, packed all of his things, and left without a decent explanation. Unlike his father, he actually phoned his family once he settled in to his (crappy) New York apartment. The conversation (like all the ones after) was not pleasant, and Archer refused to explain his actions to his mother and to Morton.

Archer's life went downhill from there. He struggled to find a decent job, and when he did he got either fired for poor work ethic or he quit to find something a bit better. He went from telemarketer, to office assistant, to his current job as a mail production assistant, which isn't any more glamorous that his previous attempts.

DURING APOCALYPSE: The phone rang, rang, and rang. Archer checked his watch. She's been calling all f--cking day. Give it a rest Mom. He canceled the call. Archer had just had a nine hour work shift of delivering packages and organizing mail, and he was definitely not in the mood to have a chat with his mother. Well, rather to be straight out criticized for a good hour or two. Their phone calls always contain the same questions: 'when will you quit fooling around and come home?' 'are you happy with what you've done to our family?' 'that is no way to live' 'you need a better job' 'why in the world did you drop out of college?' 'you were doing so well for yourself!'. The last thing he needed was to hear all of that again.

Arch stripped off his work uniform and sat down on the couch in his undershirt and boxers (he was much too lazy to put on pants), and took one good look at his crumby apartment. He noticed mystery stains on the carpet, and even one on the wall. He slept on a futon because his single bedroom had to be used for storage. His stove didn't work, so all he had was a microwave, and his television only received five channels, two without sound.

The phone rang again, and Archer hung it up.

With an angry sigh Archer went to his kitchen and opened the cabinet to grab a half of bottle of bourbon that his father left behind and his mother never drank (he snatched it before leaving for New York). He turned to grab a glass but stopped when the phone rang. Instead Archer took the whole bottle of bourbon and sat back on the couch. He picked up his phone and considered just turning it off (or throwing it out of a window for dramatic effect), but decided to just hang up. He decided that if she dared to call again he would answer...but he never made it that far. The near empty bottle of bourbon dropped out of his hand as he passed out on the couch.

He eventually woke up, slowly and groggily. As he started getting over the shock of his hang over he heard his phone ring. "Ouch--God, are you serious? He checked the time. He had been knocked out for over 24 hours. "F--CK!" He missed his shift at work. He scrambled to pick up his phone, as well as the bottle of aspirin that was next to it. Just as he was about to answer it, the ringing stopped. "Whatever..." He grunted as he stood up and shuffled to the kitchen. He got a cup of water and swallowed at least five aspirin. Then his phone beeped. He had one new voicemail.

Archer finally picked up his phone and checked the newest message. He clicked it and put the phone to his ear, expecting his mother to be shouting at him. To his surprise she was shouting, but not at him...at someone else. Before he could make out what she was screaming about, his phone died.

"Are you kidding me?" Arch started to look for his charger when he heard screams coming from outside. Warily, he pulled open the blinds, and at first he swore he was having a nightmare. People were sprinting after other people...There was blood all over the ground...and...dead bodies. There were people hunched over one another and at first Archer thought they were trying to help, but after squinting he realized that they were tearing into the mans flesh. Archer let the blinds go and turned his head and vomited.

It took Archer a good 15 minutes to pull himself together. He had seen enough horror movies to know that what was out there were zombies, and that apartments weren't the safest place to hide out. He threw on jeans and shoes, and grabbed his keys. There was no use looking for a weapon, he knew that the only one he had was in his car, and that was out back, three stories down. He walked toward his door and braced himself. Peaking through the peephole he saw that the hallway was empty. Okay, okay, thank God...I can do this...I just have to get to my car and I can drive away...No problem...I'll get out of this one, no sweat! Archer opened his door and took two steps toward the stares and noticed a dead body, half devoured on the floor. Shit no, I can't! Archer tripped backwards and fell to the floor. There's no way I can do this, what the hell was I thinking? I'm going to die just like that guy...hell I can't even recognize the guy-

There was pounding a couple doors down. He turned his head to see a door being hit so hard, it was visibly noticeable. Could it be a...person? "H-hello?" Archer was immediately greeted with a inhuman snarl and harder pounding. Arch jumped to his feet and raced down the hall, tripping on the dead body. His right shoe was covered in the man's blood, and Archer had to hold back vomit. He started to inch away until he noticed a switchblade in the man's hand. With shaking fingers he reached over and plucked it from the dead body as fast as he could. Heh, this guy has no use for this! he thought (a bit guiltily).

After a few moments of prepping, Archer walked down three flights of stares without any obstacles. He got to the first floor and discovered two more bodies, but managed to not look at them directly. He was fixed on getting to his car, and nothing else (well, at least attempting to do so). He reached the door to the parking lot. He could see his car through the door's window. Without allowing himself to chicken out Archer opened the door and made a run for it. When he reached the parking lot he ducked behind the first car he reached. He sat and listened for any sign of zombies, but it was silent. Thank God... Archer snuck his way towards his tan hunk of junk and was thoroughly devastated. Gas had been leaking out of his car for what looked like a good couple of hours. Someone tried to syphon gas out of my car?! Indeed someone hand, but it looked as though the person abandon the task mid way and let his car leak out gasoline.

Being as quick and as silent as he could he quickly checked the inevitable. Yup. Empty. Just my luck.. Before he abandoned his ticket out of town he grabbed his black jacket and bat from the back seat. Not wanting to trigger any car alarms, he decided to ditch his car idea and try to make it out of New York on foot.

ROLEPLAY EXAMPLE:

It was early, but Edward was an early riser and his usual routine started at two in the morning. That isn’t saying too much since Edward usually turned in around ten at night when he didn't hold himself in the basement for a whole 24 hours or so. It would be hard for many people to function with less than seven hours of sleep every night, but Ed manages. He doesn’t rely on much sleep, which he most likely has to thank his powers for. He spends an unusual amount of time picking out his outfit for the day, even though he is dressed similar from day to day, a dress shirt, pants and even coat if he’s feeling fancy. After toiletries and a nice cup of tea, he does a quick patrol around the library, either on the first floor, or the the basement. Today just so happened to be a first floor day.

He walked past the isles, sipping his tea, disappointed at the amount of books in his library. A fair number of shelves were not yet stocked and Edward himself had read nearly all them - minus a few he was saving for a rainy day. There were quite a number of texts in the basement he has been translating, and once he has finished he would re-read them and study them. His collection of old texts far succeeded his recent collection so, luckily, he would have his hands full for years to come. Perhaps later he would ask Constance to come with him to a book store though she would also want to drag him to the mall, the movies, and other such nonsense. She refused to let up on trying to convert Edward to be comfortable with most technology, crowded places and modern entertainment. Knowing her though, she would never ease up until she won.

Edward spent around four hours dusting the books. Boring, but a routine for when the dust collects. It hurt Edward that so many books remained unread by many of Rose Hill. He was excited when he bought the place (and still is) though disappointed that hardly anyone stops by. It wasn’t all that surprising to Edward for he knew that kids now-a-days had less tolerance for learning (another reason for his hatred for movies and video games). Ed considered maybe postponing his trip to the bookstore to a day where he’d be more willing to endure Connie’s ‘adventures’. He could deal with a few more long nights of translating rather than curling up with a new book or two.

Constance left to go to the diner which was a part of her daily routine, but not his. If he could help it he would never leave the library without a real reason. It wasn’t that Edward was an antisocial sort, (he actually liked people) he doesn't like getting close to anyone, and not to mention the hostility the couple still gets from the residents of Rose Hill. Not only did he not want to bond with people, Constance sort of forbade it. If he were to get close to anyone she would surely sabotage it. He didn’t blame her, though, since he understood that people deal with their fears in different ways. While Edward tries to avoid them all together, Constance takes a direct, sometimes aggressive, approach.

He was about to pull a book off the shelf to reread when he heard the door open. At first he thought it was Constance but it lacked the usual ‘hello’ that was placed into his mind. Curious, and a bit excited, he wondered who would be visiting. He walked out of the isle and into the open, shocked to see someone he knew from his past; a girl he met six years ago. He remembered her and how they met perfectly. She was eleven, and crying. She had just come back from her parents funeral, escaped the sheriff's watch, no doubt. She told him everything, her parent’s death, how she felt at the funeral, and more. She begged him to let her stay the night, and how could he say no? She was afraid, alone, and needed someone to take care of her. He remembered she had a knack for the foreign languages and they spent the night going over a few. Josephine ended up crying herself to sleep in Edward’s arms. Constance was not happy when she found out, and was quite pleased when Josephine ended up leaving town four years later. Edward, however, was broken up over it because he started to feel fatherly towards the girl. Now, out of the blue, she was back.

PLANS: His plan is to find his family. Does he go the safer route and loop around the midwest or dare to cut a straight line through the most dangerous region?

ANYTHING ELSE?:

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

GO BY: Spencer
ROLEPLAY LEVEL: Intermediate (?)
HOW DID YOU FIND US?: Advertising!
PASSWORD:*****
TIME ZONE: US central

[/size]
[/blockquote]

[Max Guevara]

fill out the face claim and begin playing!