Caroline Livingston

On this night the heart and ideals melt into the darkness.

Full Name: Caroline Morgan Livingston
Nationality: French
D.O.B.: July 16, 1971
Age: 27 Years
Gender: Female
Height: 5'2"
Weight: 105
Hair Color: Dark Brown
Eye Color: Brown
Blood Type: O
Hometown: Snowflake, Arizona
Character Description:



Personality: Known to be a strong-willed and intuitive person in and out of work, Caroline is a natural problem solver. Living in poverty the majority of her life, she pushed past everything blocking her chances and managed to make it to medical school on her own volition. Given the unfortunate circumstances of her life, Caroline prefers to be at work than at home. Initially cold and uncaring, with time, peers may find her to be a creatively interesting mind, but a bit selfish at times. Confident and optimistic, there is rarely a problem she cannot overcome with time, though no one can really be sure of what lengths she will go to accomplish her ideas.
Role: Nurse
Other comments: History of alcoholism and drug abuse in the family, minor obsessive compulsive disorder.
RP Example:

She awoke to the sound of ringing bells, like she did every morning. Hesitant to wake, Caroline shifted her legs under the covers. Stretched right toes. Stretched left toes. Hips wiggled, back stretched. Arms extended perpendicularly. Just like every morning. She had learned long ago that living near the institution was much better than living in the institution, as sleeping was something that enjoyed doing on a regular basis.

A slow shuffle to two eggs and some toasted jam, all was quiet except for Pierre, her black and white tuxedo cat. She scratched his head.

"Oui, oui, Pierre, breakfast is coming." She did not know very much French, just what she remembered from her mother. She liked the way it licked from her cheeks. Pierre mewed in agreement anyway.

They were both fed, then Caroline trekked back to her room, her joints used to movement from the long night of stillness. The sheets were disheveled, and they would stay that way. No shower before work, only after, to avoid the disappointment of another wasted shower.

Five brushes of her hair on each side. Teeth brushed erratically. Blue scrub top pulled over a tank top, scrub pants over boxer shorts. She knew solid color scrubs were less dangerous; patterns made the institution's patients nervous on occasion. Pierre watched all the while, a patient little guardian, a constant she enjoyed.

Caroline couldn't remember very well the day when she applied to Acropolis. She remembered the snow, never a lot for Tuscon, never stuck. It snowed the day she walked in. The silence felt like home.
She felt the floors beneath her feet, how cool they felt even with shoes on. The walls held secrets, lies, and she knew it the moment she walked in that she wanted to be there, though she could never pinpoint why. She supposed it didn't matter. It didn't.

It was no secret that she did enjoy her work. The patients needed someone who wasn't terrified of them, and she never was. Frustrated, on occasion, but never truly terrified by any of them. Not yet, anyway. The doctors proved to be troublesome, but she never let them push her around when it came to the care of her patients. They were the same as any doctor, in her experience. In for two minutes, left all the hard work to the nurses. It was probably for the best. She was damn good at her job.

A look on her watch, and she was just on time to leave and be early for work. Her eyes flicked to Pierre, taking a seat on the back of the couch.

"I hope you don't mind." He didn't. He liked to be alone as much as she. One goodbye pat to Pierre's left side, and she walked into the Arizona heat.

Traffic was almost nonexistent, as per usual. It never bothered her. No one wanted to live so near to Acropolis, and she didn't particularly disagree. It was alright with her. She never liked waiting, and traffic made her late, which made her teeth itch, which made her moody. There was word around the staff lounge that a new patient was arriving. That was always a big task, since no one really wanted to be admitted to Acropolis. Usually, she was strong enough to handle them, but it was asking for help that bothered her.

She parked outside the walls of the building. She had learned never to put her car inside the gates, should another patient decide it was a canvas that needed painting. Leaving her car and putting the alarm on, she grabbed her bag and walked in to the familiar gates, up the walkway. Her chest rose with excitement and anticipation of the day ahead. A smile curved across her face as she pushed through the doors.

Today was going to be fun.

Accepted, welcome to the Hill of Acropolis. Enjoy your stay.