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Name: Samuel Holt
Gender: Male
Age: 24
Room #: 111
Appearance: Samuel didn't miss out in the looks department, but he's not outstandingly attractive. He stands slightly taller than average at 6'0" and the naturally lean nature of his muscular build has been highlighted by some slight emaciation, showing how little he eats nowadays. He has blue eyes and he's let his short blonde hair grow past what he was allowed to in the Army. On the other hand, he still shaves on semi-daily basis, never having more than stubble along his jaw. Samuel's technically still a drifter until the time he finds a place he likes. As such, he only keeps around a little basic clothing. He has a pair of jeans that he absolutely loves with a darker wash of pale blue, nearly grey. Most of the few t-shirts he has are plain white t-shirts, with the exception of a black Soundgarden t-shirt. Samuel hasn't gotten rid of his tan combat boots yet, preferring them over sorts of shoes when traveling and walking the long distances he's been doing.
Personality: Samuel used to be your typical teenager, but his adulthood was a baptism by fire. His experiences during his service have given him sort of a second personality: a shell, if you will. He initially comes off as aloof or stand-offish, much more inclined to sit and watch the goings-on of a room than strike up a conversation with someone in it. Additionally, Samuel is very wary when it comes to other people. Though he's starting to cope with the recent events in his life, he is still jaded to a degree and averse to forming close bonds.
Underneath the shell he has formed in recent years, Samuel is still energetic and steadfast. His friends and comrades know him to be loyal to when people finally do get close to him (though, it was much easier done a year ago than now). When he is with those people, his stoic facade melts away and he lets out a little bit more than he probably should. When he's with those that are close, or with alcohol that is. Despite feeling like he's kicked the habit of drinking to forget, but instead just to unwind, he knows deep down that he drinks to avoid the nightmares picked up in the hell on earth that is Somalia. Ulterior motives aside, he knows how to party after sipping some of Satan's poison. He's nihilistic, but int he devil-may-care sort of way as opposed to the angsty sort. Whatever happens will happen, and there really is nothing in the universe that cares about you or forces you to uphold some standards.
Background: All throughout his life, Samuel wanted to be a soldier; it was never really a phase with him. He was born in Seattle and grew up listening to a ton of music, having been introduced to the local rock scene by his older brother. Even as a teenager, with the rebellious and grungy appearance he had, the appeal of falling in the ranks and becoming a warrior never lost an appeal to him. Finally, come graduation, he enlisted into the Army with a contract for the 75th Ranger Regiment. Samuel got his wish to see action. Two years after he enlisted and started his training, he was part of the invasion of Panama. He knew this was what he wanted to do for the rest of his life after getting a taste of it... or at least he thought.
'91 came around and he remained back in the states as other Rangers went to fight. Once again, he would soon get his wish. The 3rd Battalion was sent to Somalia on a peace-keeping mission. They had a string of good missions that weren't without intense fighting, much more intense than in Panama. From the media, he had always got the picture of American dominance of anyone by sheer technology and the ability to outgun them. But in the urban jungles of Somalia, insurgents had experience and an unnaturally zealous loyalty to their cause that he was never told about. Not only that, but the stream of insurgents, militias, and bandits never seemed to end. Nevertheless, Samuel was determined to beat any enemy he came across, After all, he was the better warrior, he told himself.
On an operation that was supposed to be routine, things went wrong. Samuel prefers not to talk about the specifics, but Operation Gothic Serpent went down in infamy as some of the fiercest combat in recent history. He himself was injured, but the physical wounds were not the only ones that were left behind. The army had given Samuel the option to leave after he was done convalescing. He had had enough violence and death, and needed a break, if he even ever came back at all. He became unsure of what his calling was for the first time in his life. Samuel drank his way from Fort Bragg to Florida and then along the Mexican gulf until he hit New Orleans. Something about the city drew him to it. The food, the drink, the loose morality. The city was enchanting and haunting at the same time. Upon arriving, he quit drinking as much and came back from depression, though PTSD and a reckless streak are still evident.
Talents: Athletics, Empathy
Skills: Drive, Firearms
Knowledges: Linguistics, Politics
