GENERAL
Name: Oliver Farris Felton
Nickname(s): Oli, Oliver, Dr. Feel-You-Up
Age: 23 years
Birthday: November 3rd
Gender: Male
Height: 6'0"
Weight: 175 pounds

IN DEPTH
Appearance: Oliver's hair seems to always be in disarray, whether it be his irregular cowlick or the tips curling in different directions. The brunette's unruly bangs are about the only section of his hair that does as he pleases. All over, the hair is thick though individual hairs are fine and nimble. Because his hair grows so unusually fast, his hair goes from a shaggy and short to a shaggy and long between cuts. It looks its best a month after a good trim.

His intensely blue eyes often cause people to ask if he wears contacts, which he does not. Large and almond-shaped, Oliver's eyes are unique in the way his skin is formed around them. Large dark lashes rim his glassed over orbs, nearly suggesting he wears mascara, which would be absurd unless he had been drinking that night...although he probably had been. Anything is possible with Oliver.

Oli enjoys keeping his body healthy. He eats mostly vegetables and takes a lot of time preparing nutritional meals. For personal beliefs as well as health reasons, he has become completely vegan. Normal trips to the gym are a thing of the past for him. Last Christmas, he received a home gym from his family. Since then, he has been more in shape than ever. His fluffy head sits atop lean, sloping shoulders. Long and fit arms accentuate a tennis player's torso, his waist narrow though proportionate. His rear, or lack there of, leads to a pair of lengthy legs that belong to a born sprinter and his gaunt feet, randomly placed at the ends. Overall, his features are usual and easy on the eyes.

Basics are what he focuses on paired with a single great piece. Shoes, scarves, hats and cardigans are mainly what he shops for because he buys his basics online. He tries to keep things interesting by throwing in a pop of color, though neutrals and darks are just as popular within the confines of his closet. Rarely wearing the same ensemble twice in his entire lifetime, Oliver forces himself to shop. He is not the most enthusiastic buyer, seeing as he loves money as much as he loves to look good, but having new clothes to wear is his motivation for this self torture.
Personality: If one was ever to fall victim to psychosis, it would be this man. The high amount of strong alcohol--basically poison--that has entered oliver's fragile body has made him suffer through bad mood swings and a chronic state of severe depression. His views on religion are so open minded that most Americans literally turn their nose up to him, warning him that his beliefs will end in dire consequences. It never actually crosses Oli's mind, it simply doesn't bother him anymore. At first, his family in America got to him for a while but the resurrection was short lived. As for what he truly thinks is real, it was simple. By most, he would be considered an atheist although he personally calls himself a hedonist and a firm believer in zodiacal signs. In Oliver's mind there is no god, no satan, limitless universes, limitless lives to each person's soul, and that anything is possible. It gets deeper the more someone speaks with him about it, or every time he drinks. It seems as though it helps him understand the way everything works. His interest in philosophy has earned him a bachelor's degree in psychology and is in the process of getting a doctorate's degree in philosophy.

Having such a severe case of depression has caused a lot of problems in Oliver's persona. Over the years, it has gotten so bad that he went through symptoms of depression as well as bipolar, AD/HD and schizophrenia. It takes a lot of courage to live his every day life. Oliver's views on the world and how it functions are often so terrifying that they cause him to hallucinate while intoxicated. Not only this, but he is normally sedated by some sort of strong antidepressant that numbs his outlook on life, and under the influence of alcohol. It seems as though Oliver will never be freed from this suffering of being unsure and constantly unmotivated, being called lazy and sad. It takes a lot of energy for him to move which is the main reason he drinks as much as he does; it boosts his energy. Being so used to this horrible routine has made him become afraid to reach outside the boundaries. What he needs is some weed.

Binge drinking has been a part of Oliver's life since the fifth grade when a couple of his friends had parents that let alcohol be accessible to their kids. Although he had not gotten seriously wasted until the seventh grade when a friend had a bottle of their dad's Hennessy. The two kids stumbled back to their club house and drank the rest of the night but suffered severe alcohol poisoning. His friend Tyler came close to death. But that night, he had a new respect for alcohol that led to constant drinking. For the rest of the summer Oliver drank each night thus becoming dependent on it. His sophomore year rolled around and it came along with a brand new group of friends who had connections to hard liquor. It hit Oli with a jolt of electricity from which he had been denying himself. After his initial settling into the alcohol, he vowed never to stop drinking. He stuck with his promise.

Oliver would rather spend the day inside, tucked away in a corner with a big old bottle of gin and a good chaser over going out in the town and working any day of the week. His shopping and college courses are done over the internet, the most comfortable place to shop. The noise of the television being on bothers him even less than old people and a large library is much more satisfying to Oliver. Other than buying needed items or the occasional party at a friend's house, his home is the only place he ever is. However, in his defense, he is rarely there without company. Drinking parties and small get togethers occur more at his home than his friends' because his house is larger and more comfortable than anyone else's. His life-changing obsessive compulsive disorder makes for a very organized, clutter-free home where most people prefer to party. As long as he is never alone for more than one day, Oliver enjoys the alone time.

Oliver has buried his emotions for nearly his entire life. He grew up in the spotlight of the Canadian public, thus being forced to be the perfect child. The realization that he has to pretend in order for people to enjoy his company has scarred him for the remainder of his life. Arnold and Fiona were good, caring parents, but their interest in politics made a lasting impression on their bitter alcoholic son. He was born with an obvious attraction to females. Oli enjoys the company of a woman which results in him constantly being surrounded by the most attractive ones. Shallowness has never been a problem for him; he fails to realize that he has yet to open his eyes and see true beauty. The outer layer of another human--her measurements--matters more to Oliver than a personality, as long as he is able to take care of her. Honestly, he belongs with a dumb blond who has no emotions and simply let him love her. Oliver's amount of sensitivity has caused him to spend a lot of lonely nights with Jim Beam.
Ethnicity: English, Canadian, French
Family:
History Being birthed into a political family is something Oliver highly discourages if you have any control over it whatsoever. He was conceived during spring break when Arnold and Fiona got a little too frisky and ended up getting stuck with a child. They were married already so their reputations were saved but they had not been planning on having another son or daughter for at least five more years. Only a few years earlier, their first son had been born. Fiona was still so exhausted by her first birth that she was taken aback by her pregnancy test results. Early in the morning little oliver was born at the local hospital's emergency room. She withstood brief labor pains and gave birth to a healthy baby. unfortunately, Oli had been born with a bad case of baby colic and spent most of his babyhood in and out of the hospital.

Being modest and obedient as a child, so much that it seemed to disturb friends of the family and of course his grandparents, was one of Oliver's stronger points in his opinion. He preferred to stay out of family portraits and was distant from his relatives, acting reserved around them. Playing was not a habit of his, for he saw it as a childish and embarrassing thing to do, almost as if it was wrong. This was easily blamed on Fiona and Arnold for insisting he was always well-behaved. Whenever he would play with his cars or trucks, Oliver would close his door and be completely silent. But other than that, he was the perfect kid. No outbursts or physical temper tantrums, though he usually got his way whether he got angry or not. Doing so in public was beyond a no-no. He simply never did it. It was not an option. "That's a good sign. That means that your son is not angry and is mature beyond his years," the doctors would assure her. But his mother knew the truth and that doctor knew it, too. This child was suppressing an inner anger that was being triggered by something going on at home.

Oliver was the typical teenager. The one to sneak out of his house so he could smoke pot and drink liquor in garages, never being home simply because his parents were so false and intolerable. Though he never got serious about marijuana, his alcohol problem was getting worse. It became a serious issue when his mother caught him taking shots before school. She was aware that he drank on a regular basis, but had no idea her son drank strong vodka while at school. And worst of all, he drove to school in his own car, thus he was risking the chance of killing someone every time he got in that vehicle or even just get a DUI. She was shocked and took the alcohol away. After that, he did not admit to drinking again, though he drank more than ever because of a rapidly rising stress level. For his seventeenth birthday party, he was so drunk that he fell down and never got back up, he had consumed such a vast quantity of gin. That was simply the way Oliver's life was on a regular basis. Get up, drink, go to school, drink at school, go home, drink more with friends and then finally sleep. He never gave his body a break, a chance to be sober.

Once he graduated high school, the baby of the Felton family packed his belongings and headed to New York City to start a new life. When Oliver turned eight, he never truly had a steady home. Going from one place to the next, friend's house to friend's house was how oli chose to live. Naturally, he decided to take online courses at the University of Phoenix so he could go from place to place as long as a coffee shop was around that had a Wi-fi connection. He received a bachelor's degree in psychology and is currently in the process of earning his doctorate's degree in philosophy. In his youth, Oliver was a closed-minded individual that saw the world as half full rather than half empty, yet now he sees things in the opposite light; he understands and accepts more, but dislikes the world and is cynical nonetheless. Finding a steady job is constantly on his mind, not enjoying the guilt or dependence. His reason for why he has yet to get one is his parents insist he does not until he gets his master's degree, that way he would never have to work in a diner but would immediately get an outstanding job. But for the moment, he is simply cruising and enjoying life in New York.
Likes: Above all, women. Corona and lime. Collecting expensive cologne. Anything that he finds amusing. Coupons. The good old times. Golfing. Shark documentaries. Getting sh!t faced drunk. Reminiscing on his childhood. Optimistic people. Filling out paperwork. Reading outdated Reader's Digest magazines. Remotes. Keeping his home organized and clean. Watching Cheech and Chong while baked off his ass.
Dis-Likes: Hypocrites. Cleaning litter boxes. People who constantly text him. CDs that skip. Stereotypical teen dramas like Gossip Girl. Procrastination. Cheap alcohol. Inconsiderate people. Downloading programs onto his computer. Anyone that pretends to be something they are not. People who fart in the elevator. Not getting everything he ordered at a drive-thru. Waiting a long time at the pharmacy for prescriptions to be filled. Negativity. Lazy people.
Goals: To become even more financially stable than he already is, earn a doctorate's degree in philosophy. He has already received a bachelor's degree in psychology, which was all he planned on getting. Oliver pretty much got everything he ever hoped for besides a nice girl to settle down with, hopefully no kids would be involved.
Fears: Anything that could possibly happen while he is drunk.

WORK RELATED
Occupation: Therapist

OTHER
Played by: Gaspard Ulliel
Sample pics Click here
Sample RP: Whenever he found a new client, Oliver felt obligated to drink liquor. A massive smile grew over his buff pink lips, causing the corners of them to twitch and his bright white teeth to show. His heart went out to all the bottles of alcohol in his office's refrigerator. Boxed wines, top shelf gin, 80 proof vodka, and of course a bit of Everclear for his especially difficult patients. The poison was strictly meant for himself, of course (unless it was only a glass of Sutter Home to calm someone hysterical). Offering hurt people alcohol was the last thing a therapist was supposed to do. No wonder so many people had named him a hypocrite. Overdosing Oli was his name, alcoholism was his game.
Pouring himself a generous glass of whiskey mixed with Coca-Cola, his stomach mentioned how upset it was by the noise of a few grumbles. "Fvck you," he would say in his mind to the complaining tummy. Each time he had whiskey, Oliver's mouth would water like a baby going at a bottle. And suckle he did on the oversized cup of gin and juice, so to speak. He was really beginning to enjoy the warm feeling scratching at the back of his throat and down into his organs. It was an unnatural feeling that his abused body believed was normal and completely necessary. His tolerance level was through the roof; this large drink would barely touch his state of sobriety.

His body went numb, bladder pounding, and a warm, relaxing sensation pumped through his veins as he replaced the nearly empty Jack Daniels bottle into the freezer. His drinks were always ice cold thanks to two parts common knowledge shaken--not stirred--with a splash of science; liquor refuses to freeze. Oliver's prodigious mind wrapped around the idea of being sober during a session with an unattractive patient. It would surely be a disaster. As terrible as it was, he was shallow. Advice given to hot people was much better quality than half-hearted words of wisdom offered to the less beautiful souls. One might think a therapist judges people less. This could not have been more false. He was a human, he had eyes, he had an ego; however, he seemed not to have a mind of his own.

Caden; what an easy name to remember. Memory was key. Knowing each patient as well as possible was vital. Back to the name. It reminded him of Michigan for some reason. Cadence was the female equivalent, as far as he was concerned. What a lovely name. He had never met with this patient before, though he had already invited him into his office upstairs. Hopefully the treatment would go well. Hopefully he was drunk enough to deliver the much-needed kind words many of his patients needed. And most of all, hopefully Caden was attractive. If not, the duo may not make much progress. That would be awful news because he needed the money from treating the young man.

Taking gentle steps up the staircase of his office, leaving behind the playroom, bathroom, and kitchen area of his office, he walked into the more professional scene. His modern, eclectic waiting room came first, followed by the reception desk and a large door which led into the room where Caden was waiting for him. When he had heard the door open five minutes earlier, Oliver had called up the stairs for Caden to make himself at him within his office. That was the room where the hypnosis and discussion went on in. Several other therapists and psychiatrists shared the same loft with him in uptown Edinburgh, though this one was managed by solely himself. Because of this, he charged quite a number for each session, which was normally anywhere from twice a week to once a month.

Orientation was always such a drag. Going over the same damn material with each patient seems quite boring when it is one's job in life. Well, he was not going to have that this time. He wanted to get to know this kid in a different way; no sexual innuendos intended. Stepping confidently into the large space, closing the door behind him, Oliver sized his patient up. Hot, cute, pretty face, thin, model-esque. This was quite pleasing to come across. With a warm smile and an open hand, the doctor wrapped his fingers around Caden's.

"Hello, Caden," he cooed eloquently, his tongue dancing behind his teeth as he embraced the name. The boy was absolutely beautiful...too beautiful. Would this work out? It was rather common for a therapist to be unable to counsel a patient because of undeniable attraction. Was it weird? Yes, but still happened more often than most would speculate. This seemed like it was going to be the case with young Caden.

Breathing in the scent of lavender incense burning on his desk, the soothing, all natural, familiar scent sent shivers down his straight spine. He flopped down on a huge ebony leather chair, legs crossed Indian-style.

"Make yourself comfortable. Would you like anything to drink? I have tea brewing downstairs and there are Cokes in the refrigerator," invited an enthusiastic Oliver. Mentioning refreshments instantly reminded him that he had left his glass on the counter of the kitchen but he soon forgot this when his eyes met with Caden's wide, considerably more vulnerable eyes; they were sexy nonetheless. Would this be another short case where the doctor was forced to end the session because of insane sexual tension? Is the narrator foreshadowing right now? Indeed, grasshopper.

"Might as well get this started," he began reassuringly with a smile. "So you're...," Oliver paused and looked down at his clipboard of information Caden had filled out before wrapping up the sentence, "Caden."

His gaze transferred back up to the young man across from him. Flipping through the papers of general history, diagnoses, medical problems, and main concerns, Oliver nodded his head while rubbing his lips together. Not quite a typical case which was good. It kept things interesting. In order to gain respect for Caden, he needed to be intrigued by the case.

"Ok, great. So what's bothering you the most? And while you're at it, tell me about yourself; schooling, sports, hobbies, what you do in your free time, things that make you happy, good and bad news, et cetera. You know yourself better than I do, so I'll go off what you say for now. Give me as many details as possible," persuaded Oliver.