Post by Osiris on Sept 15, 2015 5:18:21 GMT
[attr="class","bor"]
[attr="class","ctemp"]
OSIRIS ATTANNO ZAHEER
angel
OSIRIS ATTANNO ZAHEER
angel
[attr="class","con"]
FULL NAME: Osiris Attanno Zaheer
NICKNAME(S): Dr. Oz.
AGE: 3500 (or so he says)
BIRTHPLACE: Egypt
CURRENT RESIDENCE: New York
RANK/OCCUPATION: Doctor -- Healer
AFFILIATION: angels -- self
FACE CLAIM: Colin O'Donahue
LIKES
DISLIKES
MAGIK: Wings and flight His wings seem to be the unsettling color of white close enough to the color of bone. His feathers appearing mildly translucent in the sunlight. And despite having a 'grave' interest in the corruption he is not yet corrupted enough to take that road.
DIVINE WEAPON: His weapon is a curved blade with a small attachment at the handle holding a thinner blade like that of a surgeons scalpel able to be wielded together with the main weapon or alone much like a needled. He can fight with the weapon itself in both hands, or split them between.
PHYSICAL AILMENTS: He is heavily tattooed, with tattoos covering most of his arms, hands, upper chest and back depicting geometrical designs.
WEAKNESSES: His own natural curiosity has been healthy enough to get him into a great deal of trouble. He fidgets with things in his hands, pens, knives, pencils, anything of that nature he'll spin through his fingers often times forgetting if he's holding anything at all. He also holds himself and his peers to a rather high standard of acceptable practice, himself more so than the rest and sometimes causes unnecessary stress because of it. He also has a knack for disregarding information he doesn't see any value in. He doesn't even remember the names of his parents because they've been dead so long. If you don't make a lasting impression good luck on making him remember your name.
STRENGTHS:
He is a trained medic, which seems redundant when you belong to a species that has remarkable healing abilities though they are not impervious to damage. Improper care, bones not setting right or wings with damaged muscles. He and his team of red garbed angels are the ones called upon for the most disastrous of events. Sometimes things happen that take just a little more than a bit of rest and relaxation. Magical injuries, burns from fire and pressures in the lungs, these are the things he has trained all his life to deal with. His naturally steady hands make him rather good with delicate tasks and he has quite a good eye for stitching, if one doesn't mind their clothes repaired by surgeons stitches that is.
In his free time he'll sometimes play the oud and for some strange reason comment on when people are improperly dressed. And by improperly dressed 'those shoes with that skirt no no those won't do.' sort of improperly dressed. He's very keen on the subject, spending all that time as a tailor does that to a person.
PERSONALITY:
FATHER: Deceased
MOTHER: Deceased
SIBLINGS: No.
SPOUSE(S): Surprisingly none thus far.
OFFSPRING: He certainly hopes not.
OTHERS: N/A
HISTORY:
A LITTLE HEART TO HEART
AND THAT'S HOW I GOT MY MEDICAL LICENSE
ARCHIMEDES NO IT'S FILTHY IN THERE
LET'S GO PRACTICE MEDICINE
ALIAS: Haverdashum
YEARS ROLEPLAYED: 10
WHERE DID YOU FIND US: To the left of the kidney
FULL NAME: Osiris Attanno Zaheer
NICKNAME(S): Dr. Oz.
AGE: 3500 (or so he says)
BIRTHPLACE: Egypt
CURRENT RESIDENCE: New York
RANK/OCCUPATION: Doctor -- Healer
AFFILIATION: angels -- self
FACE CLAIM: Colin O'Donahue
LIKES
- He has a fondness for stingrays, bees, scorpions. Any animal that 'stings' really.
- He wears scarves a lot, and owns a lot of scarves.
- Hot weather
- Pomegranate, and things made from Pomegranate
- He makes like these weird death/medical puns.
- Turkish Delight
DISLIKES
- Hospital coffee is disgusting and should be considered an affront to nature.
- Dragon fruit, those spiky nasty things.
- People that don't live up to his exceptions
- Being interrupted.
- People who don't know how to match their clothes, seriously like it's hard?
MAGIK: Wings and flight His wings seem to be the unsettling color of white close enough to the color of bone. His feathers appearing mildly translucent in the sunlight. And despite having a 'grave' interest in the corruption he is not yet corrupted enough to take that road.
DIVINE WEAPON: His weapon is a curved blade with a small attachment at the handle holding a thinner blade like that of a surgeons scalpel able to be wielded together with the main weapon or alone much like a needled. He can fight with the weapon itself in both hands, or split them between.
PHYSICAL AILMENTS: He is heavily tattooed, with tattoos covering most of his arms, hands, upper chest and back depicting geometrical designs.
WEAKNESSES: His own natural curiosity has been healthy enough to get him into a great deal of trouble. He fidgets with things in his hands, pens, knives, pencils, anything of that nature he'll spin through his fingers often times forgetting if he's holding anything at all. He also holds himself and his peers to a rather high standard of acceptable practice, himself more so than the rest and sometimes causes unnecessary stress because of it. He also has a knack for disregarding information he doesn't see any value in. He doesn't even remember the names of his parents because they've been dead so long. If you don't make a lasting impression good luck on making him remember your name.
STRENGTHS:
He is a trained medic, which seems redundant when you belong to a species that has remarkable healing abilities though they are not impervious to damage. Improper care, bones not setting right or wings with damaged muscles. He and his team of red garbed angels are the ones called upon for the most disastrous of events. Sometimes things happen that take just a little more than a bit of rest and relaxation. Magical injuries, burns from fire and pressures in the lungs, these are the things he has trained all his life to deal with. His naturally steady hands make him rather good with delicate tasks and he has quite a good eye for stitching, if one doesn't mind their clothes repaired by surgeons stitches that is.
In his free time he'll sometimes play the oud and for some strange reason comment on when people are improperly dressed. And by improperly dressed 'those shoes with that skirt no no those won't do.' sort of improperly dressed. He's very keen on the subject, spending all that time as a tailor does that to a person.
PERSONALITY:
Osiris is a naturally inquisitive man. Though he often seems to be the one who 'asks all the wrong questions at the wrong times.' Despite this he is a person who sticks with their personal morals, no matter how often they seem to dis-align with others. He is always more concerned with the 'greater-good' than anything else. Outwardly to other's he is an oddity, jokes in passing about him not needing to sleep or blink seem to be the favorite among the other angels. He never lets anything go to waste due to his less than kind upbringing and has a soft spot for young children.
He often times rushes about, constantly embroiled by his work and the lingering will of Hippocrates of Kos. He always appears clean, highly structured and well mannered when in the public eye. His sense of humor often seen as a bit grim or macabre. Though despite all this he's not without the expected excellent bedside manner. Though how he conducts himself when immersed in the privacy of his work is another matter entirely. He is never to be interrupted, at any cost even by his own staff.
He often times rushes about, constantly embroiled by his work and the lingering will of Hippocrates of Kos. He always appears clean, highly structured and well mannered when in the public eye. His sense of humor often seen as a bit grim or macabre. Though despite all this he's not without the expected excellent bedside manner. Though how he conducts himself when immersed in the privacy of his work is another matter entirely. He is never to be interrupted, at any cost even by his own staff.
FATHER: Deceased
MOTHER: Deceased
SIBLINGS: No.
SPOUSE(S): Surprisingly none thus far.
OFFSPRING: He certainly hopes not.
OTHERS: N/A
HISTORY:
A LITTLE HEART TO HEART
Osiris, was born at the name might suggest in the land of the pharaohs. And while his life had not started out like most though it would be as Homer wrote. The Egyptian men were more skilled than any other in the art of medicine. That was what all of this was to Osiris, an art. It was something that could be learned, cultivated and studied like any other subject. The care of the humans was now what interested him the most however, for his heart was, and had always been seated at the heart of a very dire problem. The problem with magic. The problem with corruption, with one injury that was more devastating than any weapon made by man or by these monstrous demons.
Osiris was born, the only child of his angelic parents in the lands of Egypt. A land of hard beginnings for an angel as the pharaoh's courts were overrun with demon's whose magic had enticed the courts of the mortal rulers. As magic always has. His parents found more reason to side with the other groups within their courts, the Hebrews welcoming them with open arms though in the end things would be no better for them with the Hebrews than without. For his namesake, it was a strange case. Osiris was born, and in a way died alongside his parents. Their knowledge of healing, dying with them. He had come from a family of healers, a family of 'medical magicians'. That was all that remained when the demons in the area convinced the pharaoh to go after their white winged brethren.
He never found out what happened to his parents, however it didn't take a rocket scientist to know what had happened to them. He was too young to remember their deaths, by angel standards being only in his 20's made him no more than a toddler. He had just begun to study the family practice when his world was taken from him. And now he would be left alone to the mercy of the desert.
Osiris was born, the only child of his angelic parents in the lands of Egypt. A land of hard beginnings for an angel as the pharaoh's courts were overrun with demon's whose magic had enticed the courts of the mortal rulers. As magic always has. His parents found more reason to side with the other groups within their courts, the Hebrews welcoming them with open arms though in the end things would be no better for them with the Hebrews than without. For his namesake, it was a strange case. Osiris was born, and in a way died alongside his parents. Their knowledge of healing, dying with them. He had come from a family of healers, a family of 'medical magicians'. That was all that remained when the demons in the area convinced the pharaoh to go after their white winged brethren.
He never found out what happened to his parents, however it didn't take a rocket scientist to know what had happened to them. He was too young to remember their deaths, by angel standards being only in his 20's made him no more than a toddler. He had just begun to study the family practice when his world was taken from him. And now he would be left alone to the mercy of the desert.
For a time he lived a life without direction, moving with the winds and the sands through the middle east. He traveled as a beggar, and a thief. Two things that would have had any other angel up in arms over his chosen lifestyle. Though that was how things were, this was how he survived. Being barely in his thirties and looking as though he were still only a young teenager, his gangly arms grabbing anything within reach. His eyes turned to the islands of Crete and the land of the Greeks for some time, taking a job as a traveling tailor, he would repair clothing using the only skill he had of any value. All the while he kept his only possession close by, his father's blade had been no use to him at the time of his death but the boy wouldn't travel without it.
Some time later while moving to the island of Kos he would be mending the robes of another man, working under a tailor. He had tried rather hard to not fall into the old practice of using the old 'surgeon's' stitch to mend the garment but it seemed that this would be the one time his mistake would pay off. The man himself had been a practitioner of medicine and though Osiris was not forth-coming about who he was eventually the angel told the man his story. In exchange, the man, whose name was Hippocrates asked Osiris to stay with him, to study with his colleagues, to which Osiris agreed.
Studying with Hippocrates of Kos proved to be a 'godsend' for the young angel. His strict professionalism, discipline, and rigorous practice were quite the turn around for Osiris, quick to dismiss his old life, the life of a thief who took only what he needed to survive. He had already been quite good with the needle, but now his hands turned to the primitive scalpels, knives to cut, studies on tumors and anatomy, pharmaceuticals and other practices. It was a grand turn around from where Osiris had been all through his childhood.
Some time later while moving to the island of Kos he would be mending the robes of another man, working under a tailor. He had tried rather hard to not fall into the old practice of using the old 'surgeon's' stitch to mend the garment but it seemed that this would be the one time his mistake would pay off. The man himself had been a practitioner of medicine and though Osiris was not forth-coming about who he was eventually the angel told the man his story. In exchange, the man, whose name was Hippocrates asked Osiris to stay with him, to study with his colleagues, to which Osiris agreed.
Studying with Hippocrates of Kos proved to be a 'godsend' for the young angel. His strict professionalism, discipline, and rigorous practice were quite the turn around for Osiris, quick to dismiss his old life, the life of a thief who took only what he needed to survive. He had already been quite good with the needle, but now his hands turned to the primitive scalpels, knives to cut, studies on tumors and anatomy, pharmaceuticals and other practices. It was a grand turn around from where Osiris had been all through his childhood.
ARCHIMEDES NO IT'S FILTHY IN THERE
Eventually he found himself unable to stray from his roots. He would find his way to Alexandria after his lessons with Hippocrates had reached their end. He would begin his travels again, the wandering healer, thought to be a Therapeutae of Asclepius, an attendant to the Greek God of healing or perhaps even Asclepius himself. Though this was not something Osiris took pleasure in, he had no time to waste. The whole of human history was bubbling away, and he was wasting time sewing buttons into shirts. Events came and went, the most trying times when the Black Death moved through Europe even faster than his white wings would carry him. It was here that he earned another moniker, the one he doesn't speak of. The opposite of what he was trying to protect. So much death had spread through Europe, his brethren finally taking notice. The angel who had devoted its life to something other than fighting demons.
However this did not mean he would be absent from the war for long.
However this did not mean he would be absent from the war for long.
The medical world, and it's history is a nasty one at that. It was a slow climb for Osiris from the operating rooms in Paris, to the London hospitals of the Great War and the dawn of the second. The treatment of mustard gas and the atomic bomb. Medicine has always been close in the footsteps of war. He would be everywhere. Spending time in Prague and Constantinople in the halls of the great medical schools, learning and teaching from time to time. Though Alexandria had lost so much it would take quite some time to rebuild all of that knowledge. He would not only become A versatile doctor, but finally after all this time, detrimental to his fellow angels. The healer in their midst, no one had heard anything of Zaheer or his line since before the time of Moses. It was strange to see this boy before them after what had happened in Egypt all those years ago. But he still carried with him his father's divine weapon. The blade that had never been found after their deaths.
LET'S GO PRACTICE MEDICINE
His patronage to of course their beloved silver cross was never questioned. As one of the few trained healers, and still remaining aligned to the cause he found himself an easily proven asset. And when one was an asset, you got results. He was one of the few who had emerged from their eternal war, as an orphan. Though human casualties were common, an angel losing its entire family line was something that had been unheard of. Not like this. Though that was a long time ago. The boy who had wandered the deserts in search of his answers was no longer a child, the man who worked long hours in clinics, treating patients and performing surgeries, providing comfort and living up to the oath.
Although sometimes it was easier said than done. Even in those moments he was beneficial to the Silver Cross, to the angels and even to the humans. He operates out of one of the top Hospitals in New York, holding his job as a human sometimes proves difficult however when the Silver Cross calls. And it is there calls that he will always seem to answer first. He has traveled the world even now, doing consultations for surgery, impossible jobs and unfunded research. Though the most dangerous of his practices, taking interest in the humans and their direction. The drugs used by the humans to combat them were of such a caliber it was hard not to take interest in them.
ALIAS: Haverdashum
YEARS ROLEPLAYED: 10
WHERE DID YOU FIND US: To the left of the kidney
