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âFull Nameâ
Raymond Ali Bailey
âNicknamesâ
Ray â Bailey â X-Ray{Boxing days} â Son of a bitch {On Occasion}
âAgeâ
Twenty-Three
âGenderâ
Male
âSexualityâ
Heterosexual â Bi-curious
âHex Codesâ
Dialogue â#761616
Thoughts â#400d0d
Raymond Ali Bailey
âNicknamesâ
Ray â Bailey â X-Ray{Boxing days} â Son of a bitch {On Occasion}
âAgeâ
Twenty-Three
âGenderâ
Male
âSexualityâ
Heterosexual â Bi-curious
âHex Codesâ
Dialogue â#761616
Thoughts â#400d0d
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âHeightâ
5'11"
âWeightâ
200 lbs
âGeneral Appearanceâ
Ray is blessed with a complexion that resembles a piping hot cup of mocha. His doe brown eyes give him a boyish appeal, coaxing people. His smile is full of warmth, complimented by prominent dimples on either of his cheeks. White teeth sparkle behind full ebony lips, framed by a cleanly cut mustache and goatee (since he's always had trouble growing a beard). He towers at five feet and eleven inches; his muscles bulking underneath his trademark flannels. Overall, Ray is known for being a rather handsome young man, exuding an aura of confidence and charm wherever he goes.
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âPersonalityâ
Resilent â Aggressive â Determined â Goofy â Scarred
Over the seven years he's been on the road shooting and slashing bad guys, Ray has seen far too much to be on the softer side of the spectrum. Granted he can be rather charismatic when he wants to be, Ray has a very crude view of the world. If he ever believed in anything before, he definitely doesn't give a fuck about it now. All he cares about and will always care about is saving lives. If that's the only good thing he can do to make all of this fuckery something worth living. It's what keeps him going, keeps him alive. Because honestly, if he didn't have hunting he'd probably have ended himself a long time ago. Yeah, he flashes those dimples and cracks the jokes, but inside he's just hanging on by a thread. He saves people, subconsciously hoping that somehow it will save him.
Over the seven years he's been on the road shooting and slashing bad guys, Ray has seen far too much to be on the softer side of the spectrum. Granted he can be rather charismatic when he wants to be, Ray has a very crude view of the world. If he ever believed in anything before, he definitely doesn't give a fuck about it now. All he cares about and will always care about is saving lives. If that's the only good thing he can do to make all of this fuckery something worth living. It's what keeps him going, keeps him alive. Because honestly, if he didn't have hunting he'd probably have ended himself a long time ago. Yeah, he flashes those dimples and cracks the jokes, but inside he's just hanging on by a thread. He saves people, subconsciously hoping that somehow it will save him.
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âHistoryâ
It all starts in Downtown Chicago, where Ray's father ran a boxing gym for the neighborhood kids to channel their frustrations. It's safe to say that his father was a valued member of the community. Ray was the gym's best and brightest. He had always had a knack for sports, but with boxing he enjoyed himself on a whole new level. He had speed on his side, and by the time he hit the ripe age sixteen, there was already buzz around town that Raymond "X-Ray" Bailey might actually make it to the big leagues by eighteen. His father coached him like no other boxer before him. He had so much faith his son, there was just no way he wouldn't be able to make it.
One thing that made his father such a figurehead in the community was his genuine concern for the youth. So, when two of his boxers mysteriously "ran away", he couldn't help but investigate. It just didn't fit. In doing so, however, Mr. Bailey had opened a can of worms. After following a suspicious man that he's noticed lurking around the gym. Playing hero, he confronted the man; only to find that what he was looking at wasn't a man. No man has such sinister black eyes. Suddenly, a thick black cloud of smoke burst out of the stranger's mouth and forced its way down his gullet. He was no longer the friendly, neighborhood Mr. Bailey. He was something more evil than man can comprehend.
When Ray returned from school, he ran straight to the gym with his gloves dangling in his fist. He jogged up the steps, smiling at he opens the door. "Hey Pops! So, I've been thinking about that note you...gave..." he can't even think to finish his sentence with all of the blood. There is just so much blood. Unrecognizable bodies, his friends, lay in utter mutilation. He doesn't want to count the bodies, but he can guess about ten...maybe fifteen. He vomited on the spot, heaving over one of the corpses. He dared to venture further into the gym, just in time to see two men with their guns pointed at his father. He nearly jumps one of the from behind, ready to put up a good fighter...that is, until his dad blinks, and his eyes shift to an all encumbering, inky black. "Dad?"
The distraction was enough time for the Winchesters to look at Ray and for the demon to snap its own neck and jolt out of Mr. Bailey's body. He fell to the floor; dead. The Winchesters tried their best to explain the whole supernatural smoke demon, but Ray was in shock. He was never the same after that. He quit boxing and decided to hunt down the demon that slaughtered his family. After begging Sam and Dean to at least teach him everything they know about demons. Hesitantly, they complied, but they wouldn't take part in his revenge. They had bigger fish to fry, at the time. The rest Raymond learned after years of training, research, and putting his skills to work.
It all starts in Downtown Chicago, where Ray's father ran a boxing gym for the neighborhood kids to channel their frustrations. It's safe to say that his father was a valued member of the community. Ray was the gym's best and brightest. He had always had a knack for sports, but with boxing he enjoyed himself on a whole new level. He had speed on his side, and by the time he hit the ripe age sixteen, there was already buzz around town that Raymond "X-Ray" Bailey might actually make it to the big leagues by eighteen. His father coached him like no other boxer before him. He had so much faith his son, there was just no way he wouldn't be able to make it.
One thing that made his father such a figurehead in the community was his genuine concern for the youth. So, when two of his boxers mysteriously "ran away", he couldn't help but investigate. It just didn't fit. In doing so, however, Mr. Bailey had opened a can of worms. After following a suspicious man that he's noticed lurking around the gym. Playing hero, he confronted the man; only to find that what he was looking at wasn't a man. No man has such sinister black eyes. Suddenly, a thick black cloud of smoke burst out of the stranger's mouth and forced its way down his gullet. He was no longer the friendly, neighborhood Mr. Bailey. He was something more evil than man can comprehend.
When Ray returned from school, he ran straight to the gym with his gloves dangling in his fist. He jogged up the steps, smiling at he opens the door. "Hey Pops! So, I've been thinking about that note you...gave..." he can't even think to finish his sentence with all of the blood. There is just so much blood. Unrecognizable bodies, his friends, lay in utter mutilation. He doesn't want to count the bodies, but he can guess about ten...maybe fifteen. He vomited on the spot, heaving over one of the corpses. He dared to venture further into the gym, just in time to see two men with their guns pointed at his father. He nearly jumps one of the from behind, ready to put up a good fighter...that is, until his dad blinks, and his eyes shift to an all encumbering, inky black. "Dad?"
The distraction was enough time for the Winchesters to look at Ray and for the demon to snap its own neck and jolt out of Mr. Bailey's body. He fell to the floor; dead. The Winchesters tried their best to explain the whole supernatural smoke demon, but Ray was in shock. He was never the same after that. He quit boxing and decided to hunt down the demon that slaughtered his family. After begging Sam and Dean to at least teach him everything they know about demons. Hesitantly, they complied, but they wouldn't take part in his revenge. They had bigger fish to fry, at the time. The rest Raymond learned after years of training, research, and putting his skills to work.
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