|DARRICK CAMERON, MD (crazynotstupid) wrote,|
@ 2019-01-01 16:04:00
Made a wrong turn, once or twice
FULL NAME: darrick neil cameron
NICKNAMES: cam-cam, dickhead, bambi
DOB: april 8
PLACE OF BIRTH: queen anne, seattle
OCCUPATION: surgeon/mortician @ SNW
MARITAL STATUS: single
PARENTS: geoff and griffon cameron
SIBLINGS: one younger sister
• Can't stand the taste or smell of tobasco. it is the devil's nasty sauce and he won't touch it to save his life. maybe to save his life.
• His favorite movie is ever after and he will defend that movie to the end of time.
• He's never had a pet. not because he's allergic but because he would be afraid they would run away from him.
• He has only left Washington once and he hated it.
• His favorite foods included cereal with marshmallows, microwave dinners and cheese-flavored popcorn. Also chocolate popcorn. Butter popcorn. All the popcorn. Now that he can't eat it, he just loves anything that smells like them.
• The only fruit he likes are blueberries and only because they turn his mouth blue.
• Played soccer in high school and got a scholarship for college.
• Knew he wanted to be a doctor/surgeon when he was nine after reading Sherlock Holmes.
• He has broken his legs twice and his left arm once and his right arm three times before he was 18.
• Struggles against his fears daily. He might seem fool-hardy but he's only out to prove to himself that his fears do not control him.
• He gets the nickname 'Bambi' from high school because he was naive and once wore a flower crown made by his sister for his birthday and refused to take it off the whole day because it would have hurt her feelings.
Mistaken, always second guessing, underestimated
One of his first memories is of Tyler Boyd throwing old oranges at him and calling him 'big nose'. Ever since, his appearance has been overtly obvious to him. As a child, he knew he looked different than his parents. They weren't model-gorgeous. They just didn't have that untamed curly dark hair or that huge honker on the front of their face. Darrick just thought he had gotten unlucky but when he was nine years old, his parents told him that he'd been adopted. His birth mother had given him to them because they had been unable to have children of their own. He was their miracle baby, their spring child. And while it now made sense why he looked so different, he never felt the need to search out his birth mother. His mom and dad were his parents. They had been there when he'd broken his leg on his first bike-riding attempt. They'd been there in the hospital when he broke his arm while climbing a tree. And when he broke his arm again on the trampoline.
There were a lot of months that he spent inside his bedroom as a kid. It wasn't that he was particularly out to completely wreck his body and break himself into a million pieces. His body just always seemed to fall apart at anything he tried. To keep him company, his parents brought him books. First, they tried dumb old school books. Like history. Math. English. He was pretty sure his dad tried sneaking in a Webster's at one point. At least his dad cared enough to try. But what really got Darrick through those long days and itchy nights was Sherlock Holmes and John Watson. They became his heroes and he wanted to be just like them - but in one person. He went through all of Arthur Conan Doyle's books and short stories. Anything by Sir Arthur, he desperately had to have. As he got older, his collection grew. His most prized possession is his first edition book of The Hound of Baskervilles that was gifted to him when he was thirteen.
Being a teenager wasn't exactly easy. Especially being the gawky and gangly and big-nosed youth that he was. He was bullied a lot by the other kids but instead of dwelling on anger and misery, he put all of his focus into his studies. He wanted to be a doctor, just like John Watson, so he put in the time, got a college scholarship through soccer and had all of his schooling paid for. He had his best friend to thank for the extra help in studying and his little sister for forcing him out to be social at least once a month. Unfortunately, even after college, it took him a year and a half to get a job at the Seattle hospital.
After that, life was pretty cushy for a few years! He had his own place, a fancy dancy apartment in downtown, and even in the sort of process of getting his first serious girlfriend. Plus, amazing job where he got to save lives by digging through bodies? Obviously not literally digging. He knew what he was doing. And he was damn good at it! The only part missing was being able to solve murder-crimes like Sherlock and Watson. But the pay was good and he kept on having a normal totally-not-weird life.
Until something really dramatically weird happened back in October. Naturally.
He woke up one morning after going out to some last-minute crazy party with his girlfriend and suddenly, he was craving heads. People heads. Skulls. Like, the squishy pink stuff underneath all that bone. The tissuey yummy stuff. He thought it was just a hangover and that a day at work would make him feel better. Somehow, he ended up in the morgue, gnawing on a very fresh corpse head. Ever since, he's stopped talking to his family and tried to figure out what the hell happened and how to make it un-happen. He's transferred himself to the morgue to resist temptation (he's been caught drooling too many times) or getting caught. As far as he knows, he's the only zombie in the city and he'd actually like to keep it that way.
* 2017 has been a very difficult year for Darrick but he's been able to reconnect with an old friend which has helped bring him out of his self-made shell as well as made some new friends that have helped keep him on the right path. Being a zombie has become normal for him now and he's all but accepted a life where he has to eat brains in order to survive. But he's at least gonna dress the yummy pink squishyness with some hot sauce and cereal. Because that's all his body can manage to accept. Darrick still has not contacted his family and he's afraid he won't have the courage to do so any time soon. He's hoping that one of them will reach out to him first but until then, he'll still keep an eye out for possible cures. Being touched by a Necromancer who also happens to be a vampire was the first thing in his life to give him hope right now.
Bad decisions, that's alright.
He's dead. He can do dead things. Like not breathing. 'Pretending' to be dead. Being super pale in an uncool gothic way.
Amazingly, being a zombie does have its perks. It kinda sucks that he doesn't get super human strength (because that would be BOSS) but the resilience is pretty sweet. He can literally take any sort of beating and just walk it off. Can't keep this dead guy down! Unless it's a shot to the head. Or a knife to the head. He's gonna say anything sharp and fast to the dead will kill him so no pointy things.
One weird thing is the visions. He's not a fan. Every time he eats a brain (which is as little as he can possibly make it), he somehow is able to absorb the memories and personality of the person it belonged to. Which can be sweeeet if it's a cool brain and really sucky if it's a lame one. Thankfully, it fades after a few days.
The thing about being dead is that ... well, he's dead. That means no heart beat. No blood. No warmth. No breath. In a lot of ways, he could be mistaken for a vampire because of his pale and cold skin. Instead of blood, its brains. Blood would be cooler. He has to eat brains at least once a month or risk becoming feral and/or decomposing, which he's never done and never wants to find out what happens if he does. He likes all of his limbs in tact.
He can be controlled by a bokor or Voodoo sorcerer, which is totally not cool and he's really like to never meet one.
Being a zombie means yes, he has to eat brains. At least once a month. If he doesn't, the dead cells in his body 'kick start' and he starts decomposing rapidly. He will get cravings if he goes too long (or just randomly because being a zombie sucks hole) and will literally leave a pool of drool.
TIMEZONE: Pacific Time
CONTACT: journal post
PB: Andy Samberg