Role:"I will not be quantified!" (Guy No. 3)
Age: 18 years (Birthday: July 9th, 1993)
Gender: "I am a pillar of masculinity." (Male)
Crush: His eyes shift to the side. "... How is this relevant, again?" Girl 3.
Personality: Ford is simple and soft-spoken, a man of few needs and fewer worldly possessions. He may have, at one point, been a man of great happiness and levity, but as of right now all of that is hidden behind a layer of morose detachment. His sense of humor hasn't dulled though; he is still a sarcastic and friendly man, amicable and easy to please and make others smile. He just doesn't connect well with others; he just keeps quiet and does his own thing, mostly. He doesn't really bother the others in the warehouse unless it's necessary.
Short Bio: "Tch, why would you want to know? My story isn't all that exciting; and it's sure as shit nowhere near as bad as anyone else's here." Ford shrugs out of his armchair and wraps his fingers around a chipped enamel mug. Steam roils from the top; he blows on it softly and takes a tiny sip, looking at you incredulously. "What? It's coffee. I would have made some for you as well, but I..." He chuckles softly and shakes his head. "I wasn't expecting guests, I suppose.
"Well then, if you aren't leaving until you have my story, I suppose it wouldn't hurt to let slip the whole thing, just this once." He relaxes in the chair, crosses his legs, cradling the mug in his lap. "I was born... West of here. Small town, population of maybe three hundred people -- and about fifty of them were only passing through on the highway. I was born in a lower-middle class family, two story house in the 'burbs, working dad, stay at home mom, younger brother, younger sister, dog, three squares and a bed -- the whole nine yards. I was an average student in high school and all throughout my life. Spent a lot of my time drawing, playing around with the guitar and the bass." He smiles, patting the worn out instrument cases next to him; two of them, both scuffed and scraped from their wear. "Never got very good, but I don't have the heart to let them go, you know? So I made it through high school, went off to college. I suppose, if you need to look for a reason why I ended up here, that would be it.
"Freshman year didn't go well. To put it simply, I fell in love." His face darkens and he looks slightly away from you, his eyes clouding a bit. "Then I fell out of it. I don't want to talk about it." His posture shifts nervously. "But anyways, after that experience, I couldn't stay. I figured I would make a go at wandering for a while.
"That was about... Nine months ago now. I hitched down the highway, played in a few bars, and eventually I got here, broke and unemployed. Then I fell in with this lot." Ford smiles. "Now, was there anything else or can you leave me alone?"