Finished!
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[b]NAME:[/b] Oscar “Ozzy” Drummond

[b]AGE:[/b] 33 (233)

[b]ETHNICITY/BIRTHPLACE:[/b] 
Born in Glasgow, Scotland but emigrated to Australia as a young child. Returned to Britain at age 18.

[b]GENDER:[/b] Male

[b]APPEARANCE:[/b] 
[hider=Picture][img=http://www.fotoflingscotland.co.uk/Events/Other-Scottish-Events/The-Edinburgh-Kilt-Walk-2014/i-pgG9784/3/XL/785A1098-XL.jpg][/hider]
A fairly intimidating man standing at 6'4”. His bulky physique is a remnant from lost sporting days as a young rugby player in high school but he has maintained it well. He seems fairly unkempt, sporting stubble and having long red hair that seems as if it's in need of a good brush. Though he is ageing (and it is starting to show) he is still traditionally handsome with a chiselled jaw and long, straight nose.

[b]PERSONALITY:[/b]
Smart-talking, loud and confident, Oscar is everything you can expect an ex-political journalist to be. His false smiles are the best around and indistinguishable from the real ones. Among friends he was known as funny, an extrovert; however, there was always a warning that accompanied it – he's often too aggressive for his own good.

[b]BIOGRAPHY:[/b]
Most of Oscar's childhood was spent travelling, first from Scotland to Australia then on month-long holidays across the globe with his mother and step-father, a diplomat and a businessman. Despite the “fun” of such a lifestyle that continued up until age fifteen, he did miss out on making real, solid connections and friends during his long absences from school though there was never a problem with loneliness – he was too confident for that. In some respects he was born with a silver spoon in his mouth with a family that could afford tutors for the subjects he was interested in and a life in which he never wanted for anything.

After attending university back in Britain for journalism and politics, he decided to stay in the country to pursue an 'easy' career writing for a trashy women's magazine under a pen-name. Soon this graduated to a column in the local and then national newspapers, a platform for him to get onto the TV at age 27, even if the channel wasn't a largely important one. He forged a name for himself and had everything; a cushy apartment, fancy car... but he made some mistakes, too, including his short travesty of a marriage to a fellow journalist that ended by adultery on both parts.

Shortly before being frozen, however, Oscar quit his job for reasons the public barely speculated on, more preoccupied with the oncoming apocalypse. He became an Internet conspiracy nut and a fairly popular figure in the media, though it was all just a persona to make money. In all honesty, it was a particularly scathing piece about the project that led to him being chosen, perhaps to reassure his followers that there was still hope. He was one of those lied to, given promises of testing and being told nothing about cryogenics until he was already in the facility and couldn't do anything.

[b]OLD WORLD PROFESSION:[/b]
Political Journalist & TV Personality – charismatic, talkative and easy to get along with as he has been well trained in the art of small talk from interviews. Observant at the same time from catching politicians out on their woolly wording. Rarely succumbs to panic as doing so live would be a career-ending mistake. Knows a lot about history, especially with regards to politics and can recite lots of information about the leaders of world countries circa 1800s onwards with their regimes.

[b]OTHER:[/b]
– Takes an interest in the linguistics and dead languages of the world so in addition to speaking English he is also fluent in Latin, Gaelic and conversational German.
– Owned a 1969 Chevrolet Camaro which he will never, not ever stop talking about.
– Secretly read (and liked) cheesy romance novels during his stint writing for a women's magazine.

[b]SAMPLE POST:[/b]
Oscar didn't bother trying to resist as he was 'guided' forcefully to his capsule, hands held tightly behind his back. It was subtle enough so that the other prisoners-slash-volunteers wouldn't notice and panic, but it didn't do anything for his peace of mind – he wasn't a criminal, he just didn't want to be launched out in the great beyond where only God knew what could happen to him. They could have just as easily found a willing sap to take his place, but [i]no[/i]; they needed a very vocal sceptic to be sealed up in a chamber like some modern caveman entombed in ice just to prove how 

As the cramped tube – smaller than he had imagined – began to freeze over, he purposefully focused on nothing but his perfectly justified anger, keeping the passionate flame hatred for everything government alive even as his fingertips began to numb, then his limbs, then his face. Eventually he felt the protective embrace of sleep clawing at him but his last thought was not of how angry the people of tomorrow would be when he woke to tell his story as he expected. It was of Lillian, living the rest of her life out on solid ground with whatever men she liked – and left him more enraged than his current situation did.