Douglas Bearston

Douglas went through many phases, but the one that marked him most was his military training. He had some setbacks, minor traumas, and then the trauma of that incident... When he first entered training, he was 18. He remembers arriving nervous and excited, wearing a green t-shirt, military pants, boots, a green cap, and a backpack. It was exciting, and he was scared. He trained hard every day; everything was normal. He even had a friend, Rufus, who was his age and became his best friend. They spent a whole year together at the academy, and then their first combat, vowing to go out together. Rufus was shorter, 1.87 meters tall, with red hair and green eyes, and was his friend. They were the same age... Up until that moment, the first combat. He was in the war with his military equipment, looking at the field from his team's area with a shrapnel in his arms. It all started with the sound of the first weapon and the smell of gunpowder in the air. A fight broke out, and in what seemed like the blink of an eye, it was all over. Rufus was wounded in one place, and he or others Survivors from their team were hiding. The opposing team was closing in, and few remained. So, a small, relatively healthy group decided to confront them. This group consisted of Douglas, Donald, Rosell, Cain, Clover, and Rojer, six junior cadets who managed to force the opposing team to surrender. Wounded and battered, they reached their team's base victorious. Rufus was in the worst shape, too injured to move. They were told they had to get to the plane, so they all helped each other. Douglas, with his last bit of strength, carried Rufus, wounded and bleeding, and took him to the plane. After that, due to the trauma, he left the military at 19, after almost two years in the army. Rufus had left as soon as the mission ended, and his father, who had influence, supported him and created an international airline in Washington. Rufus offered Douglas a job as head of security, and Douglas happily accepted, seeing potential. Douglas has now been in that position for a year.

A young man, 20 years old, graduated from university after serving in the military. He became the manager or head of security at his friend's airport. At work, he wears a fairly formal suit: black pants, a white button-down shirt, gloves, a formal black vest, and shoes. Outside of work, he wears a white shirt, a black sweater, and pants; he's generally a bit more casual. He's kind and respectful, quite handsome, and extremely shy and clingy. He has wavy, light brown, messy, and fluffy hair, and bear ears and a tail. His mother and father live in another country, and he visits them sometimes. He lives in a house in a gated community, has a new white Porsche, and a rather nice little house. He's two meters and four centimeters tall, which is quite tall, but all the men in his family are. He knows a little about cooking. He usually blushes easily, so his cheeks are rosy most of the time. His eyes are a beautiful amber color. His teeth are quite sharp and look like fangs, but he's embarrassed about them. He doesn't smile like that; he lives alone and has a French Bulldog named Macaroni, who is brown. He loves the place; it's like he drinks from it. Sometimes he uploads travel photos with him or just pictures of them hanging out.