Dutch MacKay

[Dutch MacKay]

Dutch MacKay

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Full Name- Dutch L. MacKay
Gender- Male
Age- 26
Date of Birth- June 21
Sexual Orientation- Heterosexual
Location- Los Angeles, CA
Celebrity Claim- Stan, Sebastian
What should we call you?- Danno or Dan
Play anyone else?- No.
Have You Read the Rules?- splarkin?

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Personality-
Conceit and sheer stupidity make up the shortlist of his more prominent personality traits. Honestly, Dutch has never passed a mirror that he doesn’t like. He utterly adores himself. Obviously the root of all the world’s problems is that he is just too good looking and that is his mission statement. He isn't a bad man. Sadly he isn't a very good one, either. He is a bit of a walking punch line, so dim that his little sister and mommy still have to pin notes to his lapel before letting him out of the house. Shiny objects and squirrels can completely derail whatever tiny choochoo train of thought might be chugging through his head so keeping him focused is a task unto itself. Shock collars and cattle prods have been suggested to help curb his blatant idiocy but unfortunately, there are laws.

He is undeniably simple. Easily amused. Easily distracted. He’s just plain easy. Ninety percent of what he does is motivated by sex, candy, or video games (so long as he can make his own sound effects). Lucky for him, Dutch is unintentionally charming. The sort of stupid that is endearing and just fun to be around. He will happily endanger his own well-being if he thinks it will break up the monotony of the day and bring a smile to a friend’s face. That and he really just likes firecrackers. The truth is, he doesn’t consider the consequences of his actions. He just wants to have fun and smile at pretty ladies.

Thanks to his simple nature, Dutch is somewhat an easy target and is very easily manipulated. Think of a giant golden retriever. He just wants a ball, someone to feed him and rub his tummy, and to be told what a good boy he is. Most of the time, Dutch doesn’t even realize that he’s being made fun of. He just rolls with the punches and really considers everyone a friend. He rarely gets mad because he’s Dutch MacKay, and he’s awesome. He's a bit rubbish when it comes to lying, which makes his gambling habit more than a bit troubling. He fancies himself a poker player but his significant debt would imply otherwise. It doesn't stop Dutch, though. Not even for a second.
Likes-

• Video Games
  
• Cards
  
• Easy chicks. Pretty chicks. Naked chicks... Chicks, in general. He's a fan of the ladies.
  
• Sugar cereals.
  
• Himself. He loves himself.
  

Dislikes-

• Vegetables.
  
• Fast food
  
• Lace up shoes
  
• Bill collectors
  
• Small, yappy dogs
  

Strengths-

• Charming
  
• Imaginative
  
• Resilient
  
• Entertaining
  
• 
  

Weaknesses-

• Naive
  
• Can't tie knots.
  
• Unobservent
  
• Don't think ahead
  
• Just too damn good looking.
  

Skills-

• Awesome dexterity
  
• Achieved silent assassin status and completed all of the Hitman games.
  
• Able to talk his way out of a lot of trouble.
  

Flaws-

• ADHD
  
• Allergic to pollen
  
• Can't use public bathrooms.
  

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Abilities/Powers/Skills-
Currently a civilian. Will manifest in game.
Hammer Space
Dutch will have access to a small pocket dimension that will make cheating at cards a lot easier. Like Mary Poppin's creepy carpet bag, anything he tosses in there he can pull out later to use at his convenience. So long as he can physically move an object, Dutch can stuff it into his 'pocket'. The hammer space is an abstract thing that doesn't exist unless he opens it, literally creating a small tear in the fabric of space with his mind to access his belongings. To others it might appear as though objects are simply appearing or vanishing in Dutch's hands, though he is really reaching through this dimension into another. He will also be able to physically enter his hammer space, giving him a lovely hidey hole when it suits him. Not that he's much of a fighter, but in the event he has his big boy pants on Dutch will be able to use the pockets offensively by dragging something or someone part way through and closing the pocket. Given the gory consequences, this will be a last resort for Dutch. Once closed within he can reopen his pocket anywhere he likes so long as he has a clear picture in his head of where he's going.
Limits-
Dutch will have a hard time initially getting his pockets to do as he wants. He's a bit of a blunderer and is as likely to pull out a banana as a firearm. The smaller the item, the easier it is to place or withdraw. The larger it is, the wider he needs to open his pocket, so anything bigger than himself is problematic. Things must be physically put into the hammer space, so things rooted in place are impossible to move in. Larger items also take longer to move in or out of his pockets. As far as locking himself in and reappearing elsewhere, that will take lots of practice and half the time he ends up in the wrong place anyhow.

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Appearance-
In a word: pretty. Dutch is a good looking guy and he knows it. Toss a blue-eyed wink at a pretty girl, flash a smile at her, and life was a cake walk. Weighing in at 220, he's tall, an easy six-foot-one and broad-shouldered. He's not terribly muscular, but wirey and dense. His mousy-brown hair is cropped short, a dark five o'clock shadow chronically on his face. Dutch has a defined jaw, and chiseled features that have a tendency to get banged up when he can't pay his IOU's. He has a simple, cheap sense of style. Blue jeans, t-shirts, and sneakers.

Faction- Neutral
Birthplace- Narragansett, RI
Mother- Betsy Gilmore MacKay/ 51/ herbalist in NYC/ Special: Open/Close
Father- Jon MacKay/ 56/ landscaper living in NYC/ civilian
Siblings-
Cynthia MacKay/ 21/ Physian's assistant living in LA/ Special: Cryokinesis
Kief MacKay/18/ living in NYC/ Civilian
Spouse / Partner- He has a baby-mama (though he despises that term)
Children- Felix/ 3/ living (name/age/job if living or if deceased/civilan or Special, if so what power?)

History-
This pretty boy moron has been doing absolutely nothing with his life. He plays a lot of video games. He eats a lot of Red Vines. He chases a lot of tail and falls into serious debt. Born on the longest day of the year in Narragansett, RI his mother was in labor for every second of it, a fact she regularly likes to bring up to her eldest son when he annoys her. His parents were kind, though their good moods and chill attitudes might have had to do with the fact they were stoned ninety percent of the time. Betsy loved her son dearly but she wasn't delusional. Dutch was a classic case of ‘my mommy says I’m special’. His confidence was not earned but heaped upon him by a woman that saw how remarkably unremarkable her son was and wanted to shield him from his own mediocrity. Although, mediocrity would be kind. The boy was dumb as a stump, but he was delightful. He was also happy so neither of his parents got in his way. They were content to just let him be himself. Fly free little butterfly, and all that hippy shit.

‘Gansett was a small town and it was entirely too easy to get into mischief. Especially if you were a dopey pretty boy that was easily led astray. He was the fall boy in his group of friends, the scapegoat, and the one that was known around town for being a trouble maker. He was also a notorious heart breaker. Not because he was at all interesting, but because he was persistent and good looking. He got in trouble, but usually got off the hook because… Well, let’s face it. He was too adorable and too stupid to stay mad at. (It might have helped that Betsy's family was old money and his grandparents knew whose palms to grease to keep their golden grandson looking squeaky clean.)

St. George’s School in Newport was his home away from home. Boarding school was really his only option. Dutch's grades were so poor he needed all the one on one attention that his grandparent’s money could buy. He ‘passed’ his classes, and the school received a new library in return. Despite the workload that St. George’s heaped upon him, Dutch was really more interested in video games. He was actually pretty good at them, though his focus left something to be desired.

His father was very much a salt of the Earth type, and his mother was the black sheep of the family that didn't focus on money, but her people were ‘old’ ones, the hoity type that had been around since the Mayflower and therefore thought they were in some way superior. It was an ancestry filled with doctors, lawyers, and people of import. It was clear from the beginning that just like his mother, Dutch wasn’t going to fit into that mold. The best they could hope was that the kid was going to survive puberty with all of his limbs.

College was expected and attempted but Dutch simply couldn't focus his humming bird of a brain long enough. He bailed out headed across the country, hopping from bed to bed, woman to woman. It took him a few years but he has finally reached LA where his little sister is going to college, pre-med. He's been sleeping on her couch for a few weeks now.

Anything else?- He is weirded out by his little sister but she has always stood by him. He returns the favor with as much affection as he can muster.

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Sample RP-
"Get. The FUCK off my bed you furry little dick." Dutch stared down at the Lord of Fluffy Evil, his sister's asshole Corgi and glowered. Lofe didn't so much as budge. Instead his long tongue dropped out of his face in mocking laughter. Story of his life, it seemed. Not even the dog respected him.

"Yeah, not your bed, dude." A head of blonde curls popped out of the kitchen, an eyebrow quirked. "It's my couch. And he was here first."

"But Cyyyyyyyyyn..." Dutch let his bulk fall onto the couch and Lofe moved only enough to not get ground to dust and put a tiny, superior paw on the guy's face. "Your dog's a jerk." Cynthia disappeared back in the kitchen, cracking up. He wasn't telling her anything that she didn't already know. In her apartment, that dog was king and Dutch, well he was just the court jester mooching off his baby sister. It wasn't like he was proud of it. But he was having a lot of bad luck lately. He couldn't get a good hand to save his life but Cynthia had an open door policy where he was concerned. She was a good kid. Even if her dog was the Anti-Christ. "Are you feeding me or..." His answer was cackling laughter from the kitchen.

"Cereal it is."

"Damn right, dude."