APP
Your name/crazy internet handle/whatever: Bear
Personal journal: naturalcyber
Email: realisticfakefish@gmail.com
Characters played (if applicable): none
Character name: Allen Francis Doyle
Genre (TV/books/etc): TV
Fandom: Angel
Canon point: Season one, episode 9: Hero
Programmed Possession: Angel Investigations’ season one office building, with basement.
Abilities/Weaknesses: Doyle is half Brachen demon and can transform to a demon form with green skin and blue spines on his face and neck. In his demon form he has a very enhanced sense of smell (which can also be a weakness) and is stronger and has more stamina and dexterity than a normal human. He can also withstand injuries to an extent because of that strength and dexterity, such as surviving getting his neck “snapped” without any bad after-effects. However, getting knocked around a bit too much or even something like sneezing can force his demon side out without his willing it.
Doyle is decently good in a fight or with a crossbow but he has no formal training with either. Most of his skills lie in the area of books and research, which is fitting considering his former occupation as a teacher. He’s fluent in English and Irish, though the latter is a little rusty due to lack of use.
Lastly he used to have visions and while they have gone to someone else he’ll be expecting to still have them.
Psychology/Personality: Doyle’s personality comes in layers. On the surface he’s an amiable, younger man with a slight hint of scoundrel. He drinks and gambles and is down on his luck, living alone and owing debts to unsavory people. The kind of life that, in his words, “doesn’t inspire high expectations.” He tries to come across as cheerful and devil-may-care, making jokes and quips at frequent intervals but there is more under the surface.
Doyle was once a very caring and driven young man, working to help people and taking charge. He tried to help others, with both volunteering at soup kitchens and with his teaching. He maintains his love of children to this day. He loved his wife dearly and tried to look out for her, even though it sometimes got on her nerves. Then he discovered he was half-demon and his perfect world crumbled. He developed a fear and loathing of himself and lashed out at everyone, driving his wife away and sending his life spiraling into a cycle of self-destruction. He developed depression and in his state refused to help-resulting in deaths for which he feels incredibly guilty about to the present. Self-destructive came to be in part self-punishing; Doyle underneath the surface not quite believing himself worthy of more. His experiences on the underside of life made him become just a little cynical and hardened but the core remained.
That core was a kind man who cared for people, even as he ran from his guilt and the responsibilities forced on him. But he could only run so long and took up the torch of helping again, eventually coming to respect himself once more, work through his fears, and start to atone for his guilt. Even so, it was a slow progress and he took time to even begin to get over his fear of rejection for being half demon and to be able to accept that he was made of stronger stuff than a coward interested in the pleasures of the flesh.
In the end he was able to obtain a measure of closure for his guilt and his demon half as well as buckle down and expose the brave, selfless hero slowly growing within.
History: Doyle grew up in Ireland, raised by a single catholic mother and not ever knowing the identity of his father. By nineteen he had moved to L.A. and was a certified elementary teacher. He met his ex-wife working as a volunteer in a soup kitchen and after a whirlwind romance they were married before they turned twenty. A small amount of contention aside they were happy and planning on a family until he turned twenty one and his demon side surfaced. At first both of them reacted very badly but his ex-wife came to support his demon side while he did not and this and his general hatred of himself drove them apart and she walked out.
Shortly after this he was visited by another half Brachen demon searching for help against a group of demon purists called the Scourge. Terrified and not wanting anything to do with his demon side Doyle refused and drove the demon away, only later to receive a vision showing him said demon and his family slaughtered. When he investigated he found that what he’d seen was true and it drove him even further down the road discovering his demon side started him on. That is, until Angel was thrust into his life.
Guided to Angel by his visions Doyle began to help Angel and in doing so, begin to help himself. He developed feelings for coworker Cordelia and was forced to deal with the past on several occasions. First his debts caught up with him and through Angel’s help he was saved. Secondly his ex-wife came back into his life to officially ask for a divorce and forced him to face that part of his past, and also to avoid her new fiancé trying to eat his brains.
Lastly he had a vision of a group of half-demons needing help from the Scourge. Doyle was able to give one of them hope and worked hard to save them, in spite of his fear of the Scourge. In the end the Scourge trapped Doyle, Angel, Cordelia and the half-demons in the hold of a ship and lowered a device down that emitted a light that burns anyone with human blood to a crisp. In order to stop it a cord on the machine needed to be pulled, which would cost the one who did it their life. Angel was set to sacrifice himself but Doyle punched him off a catwalk in order to do it. In his final moments he gave Cordelia a farewell kiss-transferring his visions to her-and leaped to pull the plug. He succeeded but at the cost of his life.
Arrival Post (Third Person)
Light. He’d been hoping for light-a good sign, that. Not being in horrible pain was another, if offset by his fuzzy memories after leaping onto that beacon. Doyle is pretty sure, mostly, that he’d managed to pull the cord on the thing, at any rate. Good, great even. He takes a breath, preparing to open his eyes and face his fate. Wait...
“Well now, breathing wasn’t something I was really expecting to be doing a lot of as a member of the-hopefully-dearly departed.” Hopefully for the dearly part, but if he’s still alive after the beacon he’ll be very surprised. Stock taking suddenly more important, Doyle opens his eyes and takes in the chamber.
Well, hell-not literally, if the books are right. “Definitely not of the heavenly sort, what with all the metal and that thing up there. It’s looking more like one of those scenes from a science fiction movie, if you ask me.”
Talking to himself is not a good sign. On the other hand, from the look of things somebody should be watching. “Hello, anybody up there; it’s me, Doyle. I could use a little direction down here. I’m all confused, like.”
Laughing at his own joke he starts looking around, reaching down to straighten his shirt cuff-hello there. That’s something new. It’s fused to his skin even, by the looks of it. It’s more of a mutter to himself this time. “Appreciate the present but a fella likes to be able to take them off.”
But it’s a no go so Doyle investigates further, the only thing of interest being the small device-rather like one of those blackberries he could never hope to afford. He’s wondering if it was left there for him when- “Jackpot! A way out and I didn’t even have to say open sesame.”
Additional Third Person Sample:
Doyle could use a drink-more than one if he was completely honest. This was not a conversation he was looking forward to having. But he needed to talk to her again and maybe apologize for ruining her relationship. Not that he wasn’t happy about it because it meant keeping his brains where they belonged but Doyle did wish for Harry’s happiness. If ignorance was bliss then knowledge was misery but at least it wasn’t complacency in your ex’s murder and subsequent cannibalism.
. . .Better not to mention that to her face, now that he thought of it. Doyle picked up the phone and started dialing the number she’d given him with the divorce papers. A minute later he put it down again and got up, running his hand over his face. Third time today he’d done that. Her last words kept ringing in his head and his courage bled out every time.
Without meaning to he’d crossed to his closet, blinking stupidly at the door for a moment before remembering what he’d hidden inside. His former life-the box that held the remains of it, at least-denied but not forgotten. The past, she never did let go.
“This is not a good idea.” But even as he said it he’d been pulling the box open. There were photo albums and awards from his youth. Even his teaching certification, still valid even now, in its frame came out of the box. This was Francis and he wasn’t dead yet, as much as Doyle had tried to bury him. The pictures are still so familiar he could open to any page in the albums and describe each one in detail. His hands flipped to the pages with Harry of their own accord. She’d looked so happy then, with Francis-with him. And Doyle knew neither of them would be really happy without some of those loose ends taken care of, even if he knew better to have much hope for himself. Maybe it was time to stop denying it so completely-if not yet time to bring it all back out. There was still atoning to do.
Back into the box went his life-most of it. Doyle kept one photo out, as a reminder, and picked up the phone. He made to the ringing this time and a look at the photo kept him from hanging up. “Harry? This is Doyle-Francis.”
One step taken, a hundred thousand more left to go.
Personal journal: naturalcyber
Email: realisticfakefish@gmail.com
Characters played (if applicable): none
Character name: Allen Francis Doyle
Genre (TV/books/etc): TV
Fandom: Angel
Canon point: Season one, episode 9: Hero
Programmed Possession: Angel Investigations’ season one office building, with basement.
Abilities/Weaknesses: Doyle is half Brachen demon and can transform to a demon form with green skin and blue spines on his face and neck. In his demon form he has a very enhanced sense of smell (which can also be a weakness) and is stronger and has more stamina and dexterity than a normal human. He can also withstand injuries to an extent because of that strength and dexterity, such as surviving getting his neck “snapped” without any bad after-effects. However, getting knocked around a bit too much or even something like sneezing can force his demon side out without his willing it.
Doyle is decently good in a fight or with a crossbow but he has no formal training with either. Most of his skills lie in the area of books and research, which is fitting considering his former occupation as a teacher. He’s fluent in English and Irish, though the latter is a little rusty due to lack of use.
Lastly he used to have visions and while they have gone to someone else he’ll be expecting to still have them.
Psychology/Personality: Doyle’s personality comes in layers. On the surface he’s an amiable, younger man with a slight hint of scoundrel. He drinks and gambles and is down on his luck, living alone and owing debts to unsavory people. The kind of life that, in his words, “doesn’t inspire high expectations.” He tries to come across as cheerful and devil-may-care, making jokes and quips at frequent intervals but there is more under the surface.
Doyle was once a very caring and driven young man, working to help people and taking charge. He tried to help others, with both volunteering at soup kitchens and with his teaching. He maintains his love of children to this day. He loved his wife dearly and tried to look out for her, even though it sometimes got on her nerves. Then he discovered he was half-demon and his perfect world crumbled. He developed a fear and loathing of himself and lashed out at everyone, driving his wife away and sending his life spiraling into a cycle of self-destruction. He developed depression and in his state refused to help-resulting in deaths for which he feels incredibly guilty about to the present. Self-destructive came to be in part self-punishing; Doyle underneath the surface not quite believing himself worthy of more. His experiences on the underside of life made him become just a little cynical and hardened but the core remained.
That core was a kind man who cared for people, even as he ran from his guilt and the responsibilities forced on him. But he could only run so long and took up the torch of helping again, eventually coming to respect himself once more, work through his fears, and start to atone for his guilt. Even so, it was a slow progress and he took time to even begin to get over his fear of rejection for being half demon and to be able to accept that he was made of stronger stuff than a coward interested in the pleasures of the flesh.
In the end he was able to obtain a measure of closure for his guilt and his demon half as well as buckle down and expose the brave, selfless hero slowly growing within.
History: Doyle grew up in Ireland, raised by a single catholic mother and not ever knowing the identity of his father. By nineteen he had moved to L.A. and was a certified elementary teacher. He met his ex-wife working as a volunteer in a soup kitchen and after a whirlwind romance they were married before they turned twenty. A small amount of contention aside they were happy and planning on a family until he turned twenty one and his demon side surfaced. At first both of them reacted very badly but his ex-wife came to support his demon side while he did not and this and his general hatred of himself drove them apart and she walked out.
Shortly after this he was visited by another half Brachen demon searching for help against a group of demon purists called the Scourge. Terrified and not wanting anything to do with his demon side Doyle refused and drove the demon away, only later to receive a vision showing him said demon and his family slaughtered. When he investigated he found that what he’d seen was true and it drove him even further down the road discovering his demon side started him on. That is, until Angel was thrust into his life.
Guided to Angel by his visions Doyle began to help Angel and in doing so, begin to help himself. He developed feelings for coworker Cordelia and was forced to deal with the past on several occasions. First his debts caught up with him and through Angel’s help he was saved. Secondly his ex-wife came back into his life to officially ask for a divorce and forced him to face that part of his past, and also to avoid her new fiancé trying to eat his brains.
Lastly he had a vision of a group of half-demons needing help from the Scourge. Doyle was able to give one of them hope and worked hard to save them, in spite of his fear of the Scourge. In the end the Scourge trapped Doyle, Angel, Cordelia and the half-demons in the hold of a ship and lowered a device down that emitted a light that burns anyone with human blood to a crisp. In order to stop it a cord on the machine needed to be pulled, which would cost the one who did it their life. Angel was set to sacrifice himself but Doyle punched him off a catwalk in order to do it. In his final moments he gave Cordelia a farewell kiss-transferring his visions to her-and leaped to pull the plug. He succeeded but at the cost of his life.
Arrival Post (Third Person)
Light. He’d been hoping for light-a good sign, that. Not being in horrible pain was another, if offset by his fuzzy memories after leaping onto that beacon. Doyle is pretty sure, mostly, that he’d managed to pull the cord on the thing, at any rate. Good, great even. He takes a breath, preparing to open his eyes and face his fate. Wait...
“Well now, breathing wasn’t something I was really expecting to be doing a lot of as a member of the-hopefully-dearly departed.” Hopefully for the dearly part, but if he’s still alive after the beacon he’ll be very surprised. Stock taking suddenly more important, Doyle opens his eyes and takes in the chamber.
Well, hell-not literally, if the books are right. “Definitely not of the heavenly sort, what with all the metal and that thing up there. It’s looking more like one of those scenes from a science fiction movie, if you ask me.”
Talking to himself is not a good sign. On the other hand, from the look of things somebody should be watching. “Hello, anybody up there; it’s me, Doyle. I could use a little direction down here. I’m all confused, like.”
Laughing at his own joke he starts looking around, reaching down to straighten his shirt cuff-hello there. That’s something new. It’s fused to his skin even, by the looks of it. It’s more of a mutter to himself this time. “Appreciate the present but a fella likes to be able to take them off.”
But it’s a no go so Doyle investigates further, the only thing of interest being the small device-rather like one of those blackberries he could never hope to afford. He’s wondering if it was left there for him when- “Jackpot! A way out and I didn’t even have to say open sesame.”
Additional Third Person Sample:
Doyle could use a drink-more than one if he was completely honest. This was not a conversation he was looking forward to having. But he needed to talk to her again and maybe apologize for ruining her relationship. Not that he wasn’t happy about it because it meant keeping his brains where they belonged but Doyle did wish for Harry’s happiness. If ignorance was bliss then knowledge was misery but at least it wasn’t complacency in your ex’s murder and subsequent cannibalism.
. . .Better not to mention that to her face, now that he thought of it. Doyle picked up the phone and started dialing the number she’d given him with the divorce papers. A minute later he put it down again and got up, running his hand over his face. Third time today he’d done that. Her last words kept ringing in his head and his courage bled out every time.
Without meaning to he’d crossed to his closet, blinking stupidly at the door for a moment before remembering what he’d hidden inside. His former life-the box that held the remains of it, at least-denied but not forgotten. The past, she never did let go.
“This is not a good idea.” But even as he said it he’d been pulling the box open. There were photo albums and awards from his youth. Even his teaching certification, still valid even now, in its frame came out of the box. This was Francis and he wasn’t dead yet, as much as Doyle had tried to bury him. The pictures are still so familiar he could open to any page in the albums and describe each one in detail. His hands flipped to the pages with Harry of their own accord. She’d looked so happy then, with Francis-with him. And Doyle knew neither of them would be really happy without some of those loose ends taken care of, even if he knew better to have much hope for himself. Maybe it was time to stop denying it so completely-if not yet time to bring it all back out. There was still atoning to do.
Back into the box went his life-most of it. Doyle kept one photo out, as a reminder, and picked up the phone. He made to the ringing this time and a look at the photo kept him from hanging up. “Harry? This is Doyle-Francis.”
One step taken, a hundred thousand more left to go.