Preston Saint

[Preston Saint]

Status: Other

Name: Preston Saint

Age: 29

What you do: A physician for the Others.

Appearance:

Residence: The Island.

Skills: He’s careful and precise, blessed with a sharp mind that analyses, understands and evaluates. When it comes to working for the Others, he's not bound by compassion, ready to do or hurt anyone that's needed, with the exception of himself. He also has extremely useful medical training as a trained physician. He’s fluent in French, German and Russian. In addition, he’s an excellent cook.

Weaknesses/Bad Habits: Despite his considerable strength, he’s not an experienced fighter, often finding it difficult to defend himself. He prefers to confine himself to do his own thing, and as a result un-intentionally alienates his ‘friends’. However, he doesn’t understand why, and is often left confused as to why he’s generally ignored or disliked.

Frequent Moods/Expressions: He has a thoughtful calmness that persists through almost all situations, rarely making an exhibit of himself. He remains quiet and shy around others, although he’s friendly enough. He often spends his free time reading, exercising or playing arcade games. However, his mood can change, and while it's rare, under the right situation he can become violent and unpredictable.

[Preston Saint]

The Saint Family

Name: Eva Saint

Age: 60

Appearance:

Overview: A powerful and loving woman, but also strict and overbearing. Her severe mental illness causes her to act irrationality.


Name: Nate Saint

Age: 30

Appearance:

Overview: ‘Slow’ as called by his mother, Nate has the mind of a child, often relying on his mother and brother to keep his impressive strength in control.


Name: Richard L’Talian

Age: 55

Appearance:

Overview: The father of Preston and Nate, he’s a kind-hearted man with no idea his sons exist. He works as a mechanic in the deep South.

[Preston Saint]

flashback triggered here: abclost.proboards40.com/index.cgi?board=othersville&action=display&thread=1164586215&page=3#1177344816

Preston Saint had reached a…critical point in his life. In one week, he would be ten years old. And that meant he would be allowed outside for the first time ever. He would feel grass beneath his feet, breath air that hadn’t been let in through a window, feel the sun on his pale skin. It was exciting, to say the least. Outside. Other people, in the flesh, not just on TV.

His brother was already ten, but Nate was…slow. He couldn’t go anywhere without his mother or brother to help him. It was true that Nate spoke nothing but nonsense, and possessed the mind of a six year old, but his family loved him. That was all that mattered in the end, family.

But now it was six o’clock, and he was making dinner again. Soon it would be back to work, though, studying his books intently as his mother instructed. And then, his language videos. He was listening to his language tapes right now, repeating each phrase in perfectly accented French as he flipped pancakes.

At least, until his mother called him.

He moved into the dining room, where Nate had just finished setting the table.

“Thank you, Preston.” Said his mother, taking a seat at the end of the table. “Were you listening to your tapes?”

“I was, Mom, yeah.”

“Tell me you were listening to your tapes in French.”

He didn’t miss a beat. “J'écoutais mes bandes tandis que je faisais le dîner, mama.”

She beamed. “Excellent. Nate, if you would please say grace.”

Preston bowed his head, clasping his hands together, as did Nate and his mother. Nate began in his slow voice.

“Lord in heaven, Momma, and Preston and I thank you for the food we are about to receive. We pray to keep us safe….Momma…and Preston, and that…and that Dad comes back…”

“Nate!” snapped mother Saint, looking up suddenly, her eyes opening. Preston did the same, looking nervously from Nate to his Mom. “Nate…your father isn’t coming back.”

“He might…”

“No, he won’t. Your father is gone for good, and we won’t spoil dinner by mentioning his name. I’m sure Preston doesn’t want to hear, does he?” She looked as Preston expectedly.

Preston usually agreed with his mother. On the surface. The truth was that he constantly doubted her. She wasn’t like the mothers he saw on TV. But now was the time to speak up. “It would be nice if we knew his name…or saw a picture of him, or…or something.” He looked up nervously, catching a glimpse of the fire behind his mother’s cold eyes, glaring at him.

She set her knife and fork down. “No Waltons tonight.”

“Mom!” began Preston in protest as Nate stared ahead, horrified by the punishment.

“That’s enough!” she snarled. “That’s…enough. We’ll eat in silence.”

That was how it was whenever their father came up in conversation. At first, only Nate had been interested, but he’d convinced Preston that perhaps their father…who they didn’t know…was the subject of some interest. Maybe he could answer some questions. Maybe he could help them, somehow.

[Preston Saint]

flashback triggered here: abclost.proboards40.com/index.cgi?board=othersville&action=display&thread=1177441458&page=1#1178567169

There were times Preston hated his existence. And now was one of those times. Nothing special or extra-ordinary about what he was doing, he was simply…reading. But the hate was filling him up to the brim, despite the fact that the next day would be his first day out in the world. He knew he should be excited. But instead, he was busy resenting his life. His mother, for trapping him in an existence that he’d learnt from television was…freakish. Her strict rules, her protection. And he resented his father for leaving them, for never stopping this.

Most of all, though, he hated the routine. Everything was sectioned in different times. Bible study, difficult classes, cooking, television…he tried to make the most of having his life decided for him. And he did enjoy cooking, and he did enjoy television, but…he wanted to enjoy it on his own terms.

His mother didn’t know him, not really. Not about all his hidden ambitions. Nine years old, and he had such great ambitions. Such dreams. He would be a great man, some day. And his mother would be left in the shadows. That’s how it would happen. And he would find his father, and he wouldn’t find a man who’d left him. He’d find his father as a good man, maybe important or even heroic. That would be a wonderful day.

“I did something bad, Preston.”

He didn’t hear Nate’s slow, quiet voice at first. He didn’t look up from his book. “Excuse me?” he asked, turning a page.

“I did something bad.”

Preston looked up from his book to see Nate standing in the doorway of his bedroom. His hair was getting long again. “I did something really bad yesterday.”

“And what was it?” asked Preston, closing the book.

“I went outside.”

Preston paused, and stared. “What? How?”

“When Mama went out, I picked the lock and went outside for a long, long time.” Said Nate folding his arms anxiously.

“Oh my God-“

“Don’t swear.”

“Shut up!” said Preston, standing. “If Mom finds out…did…did you speak to anyone?”

“I talked to a man. I talked a long time to a really nice man with a gun and a hat.”

At that moment, the doorbell rung. Preston froze. He heard the door unlock, and open, and heard a voice from downstairs. An unfamiliar, male voice.

“Ma’am, I’m Officer Bellick, this is Officer Scofield. We have a few questions to ask you about a little boy called Nate Saint, mind if we come in?”

[Preston Saint]

Name: Charles Patoshik

Age: 34

Appearance:

Overview: An excellent and convincing public speaker/evangelical minister.

[Preston Saint]

flashback triggered here: abclost.proboards40.com/index.cgi?board=othersville&action=display&thread=1179997957&page=1#1180303815

“We’re late, Preston! We’re late, we’re late!” Nate was running now. Preston picked up his pace slightly, checking his watch. He was twenty-six now, and was a full-fledged general practitioner. A family doctor. A jack of all trades doctor. And Nate…well, he wasn’t.

Nate, with his childlike demeanour and ‘slowness’ as his mother had called it, caused an accident at the construction site where he’d worked. A simple accident a moderately intelligent man could make, and there had been no serious consequences. Yet, he’d been fired. Fired, and was living with Preston. And today was Sunday. Preston’s most hated day.

It was church. Preston had only been a few times, and had had enough of it. He’d turned from God for no reason other than that it simply didn’t make sense. He didn’t hate Religion, it merely…bored him. Nate, however, couldn’t get enough of it. Perhaps it was because Preston had hardened, become more emotionally cold and Nate needed someone…anyone…with open arms. Preston didn’t stand for it.

In fact, the only reason Preston was going today was because there was someone Nate wanted him to meet. One Mr Charles Patoshik, well known in his Tennessee hometown, and had started giving guest sermons. He’d spoken once before to Nate, and he was all that Nate talked about for the next week or so. Truth be told, Preston was curious about Reverend Patoshik.

--------------

“Do you believe in Jesus Christ?”

There came a rousing chorus of affirmation. “I know you say so, but I see a bunch of people who have the want, but not the faith. The passion, but not the patience. I couldn’t write a letter about abortion to my congressmen, I was too busy. Yeah, I use contraception with my wife, but we always ask forgiveness.” Patoshik reached the end of the aisle, turned, and stared around at all the eager faces. “Well, I’m Reverend Charles Patoshik. And I call bullshit.”

Patoshik continued into his rant. Preston was simply bored at the back, but Nate listened with rapt attention. Preston could understand why, Patoshik had the easy voice of a friend with all the firmness of a loving father. Not that Preston knew what that was.

He allowed Patoshik to go on. And the cheers went on. But he voiced his own opinions between reading passages. Opinions that Saint didn’t like.

"By mercy and truth inequity is purged, and by fear of the Lord men-"

A stifled laugh. The room fell silent, and looked towards the back, where Preston sat with a smirk. “Young man?” Patoshik set the Bible down, and started to slide his way up to Preston. “Remembering something you saw on Seinfeld, or is the Bible somehow funny to you?”

“No, no, I’m sorry. It’s just…” Preston looked up at him. “I don’t know how you can believe this-“

“Preston!” whispered Nate urgently. Patoshik chuckled, and laid a hand on Nate’s arm.

“No trouble, Nate. He can speak his mind freely. But so can I.”

Patoshik drew close to Preston, and crouched so they were at face level. “Your brother told me about you, Preston. Told me you took care of him growing up, and I admire you strongly for that.” He smiled gently. “He also told me a few other things. About your mom, and…regrettably, about that crippled girl.”

Preston shot an intense look of rage at Nate, and then coldly turned back to Patoshik. “Even after that…are you happy, Mr Saint?”

“I’m happy.”

“Really? After that? How could any man be happy?” He laid a hand on Preston’s shoulder, squeezing a little. “Let the joy of Jesus Christ fill your heart. Let him who suffered take away your suffering. Open up to the Lord.”

Preston’s eyes travelled from the hand on his shoulder to Patoshik. “Get your fucking hand off me.”

Patoshik didn’t look angry. Just disappointed. The rest of the church grew loud with uproarious fury. Patoshik stood, opening his arms to calm them. “Now, we show no hate to this young man who has done many a good thing for his brother. We show love.” He turned back to Preston. “I love you, Preston.”

He spread his arms again, raising his voice so the whole state could hear it. “This man does not believe, and by our laws he is a sinner. One of the last things Jesus did on Earth was invite a sinner to join him in Heaven. He loved the sinner.” He turned and paused for a few moments. “I say he loved that sinner. Loved that sinner as much as he loved anyone.' It takes a lot to love a sinner. But the sinner? He needs it all the more.”

[ana]

Hallelujah! Praise the Lord! Twas a mighty fine flashback ;D

[Preston Saint]

Name: Roxie Tannen

Age: 26

Appearance:

Overview: A doctor at Preston’s hospital. Sexy, flirty, smart and a little selfish.

[Preston Saint]

flashback triggered here: abclost.proboards40.com/index.cgi?board=othersville&action=display&thread=1179997957&page=3#1180990599

“You’re not going to visit her, then?”

“Of course not.” replied a clad-in-only-boxers Preston, his back to Roxie as he rooted through a cupboard in his apartment.

Roxie Tannen, perhaps his only friend at the hospital. Everyone else, they either didn’t know his name, or saw him as a weird loner. None of them bothered trying to get to know him.

“Hurry up, Saint. And why not? She just got out of the nut house, don’t you want to see her?” came the voice again, from the bedroom. Of course, Roxie didn’t bother getting to know him either. She had really just used him for sex, something he was perfectly fine with. Since the slightly surreal first time in which her entire seduction method consisted of, ‘Nice eyebrows. Wanna get it on?’ they had become genuine friends. Friends who occasionally slept with each other, but friends.

“I already told you. Things have been insane.” Cradling the jam, ice cream and chocolate sauce in his arms, he headed back through the bedroom door. “Between the hospital, Nate and his friend Patoshik, I don’t have the time or energy to go visiting my insane mother who destroyed a good part of my so-called ‘childhood’.”

Roxie looked astoundingly beautiful as she sat up on the bed, her dirty blonde hair strewn messily over her face and her shoulders. She moved hair out of her brilliant, playful eyes, and cocked her head to one side as she smiled. “OK, I believe you. Apart from the lack of energy thing.”

Preston took his place on the bed, setting aside the jam. Roxie dived for the ice cream, immediately seizing it and confiscating it from him. Preston battled with the lid of the chocolate sauce, and went on. “I mean, mental illness or not, she hammered her Religious ideas into me and Nate. She lied to us about our father and Nate still can’t get that Religious crap out of his head-“

“Preston.”

He looked to her. “What?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Visit her. And then maybe you’ll stop talking about her. Maybe if you tell her everything, it’ll make you a little less crazy.” She placed a slender arm around his neck and rested her head on his shoulder.

He sighed a little, thinking to himself. She was absolutely right. It was a way to get his past out of his head. But what after he saw his mother again? Find his father? He’d heard one too many stories about bad circumstances between long lost relatives.

He stroked Roxie’s hair lightly, and kissed her. “You’re right. And it’s irritating I have to keep saying that.”

She smirked, and slapped him over the back of the head before taking the chocolate sauce bottle from him and unscrewing it. She gave it back to him. “I’m always right, Dr Saint.” She said down flat on the bed, and he moved on top of her, kissing her suddenly and forcefully on the mouth. His hands wondered, and then he held up the chocolate sauce. With a dirty grin, he overturned the bottle, and let it pour.

[ana]

Nice eyebrows. Wanna get it on? ;D Remind me to use that line on you if I ever see you....I mean, if only it were that easy

And boy, are we getting some mileage out that chocolate sauce!!!!

[Preston Saint]

Name: Alex Gardner

Age: 65

Appearance:

Overview: Chief of medicine at the hospital Preston works at. Jovial, friendly, good-natured with a realistic approach to the hospital's problems.

[Preston Saint]

triggered here: abclost.proboards40.com/index.cgi?board=rpgbios&action=display&thread=1176881922&page=1#1187117654

Preston sipped the iced mocha quietly, still in his car outside his mother’s house. It was small, modest, with an overgrown garden. He’d spent the last few hours debating how to meet his mother after so long, and he was starting to pluck up the courage. He placed the coffee down, opened the car door, and stood.

Taking a deep breath, he began the slow path up the rocky pathway towards the house.

He’d called ahead, but he was hours late. He’d arrived, waited, driven around town, purchased coffee and a crossword, and now here he was, outside the door. He raised his hand, and knocked the door lightly.

He knew exactly what he was going to say. He was going to let his feelings of hate, resentment and bitterness flow forward, scream at her, empty his lungs of all sound and let her know how much he despised her. For what she did.

A few seconds passed, and then the door opened. The first thing that hit him was how old she looked. How old, and how fragile in comparison to the strong woman he’d once known. And then the hate just melted away, leaving pity. Her face broke into a smile. “Hi, Mom.”

“Oh, Preston.” She threw her arms around him in a tight hug, and he hugged her back slightly.

So the plan hadn’t gone as…planned.

[Preston Saint]

triggered here: abclost.proboards40.com/index.cgi?board=othersville&action=display&thread=1191969087&page=1#1193418910

The inside of his mother’s home was very noisy. Not because of any human beings, but the fact that she had clocks. Roughly ten clocks to a room, tick-tocking away relentlessly.

He was sitting in a large armchair, in which he sank into deeper every time he moved, so he was now sitting perfectly still. So far, they had spoken about almost nothing. Just weather, what they had been doing. His mother seemed very excited to be talking to him. Her hands were shaking, and she had a big smile on her face. She was pouring tea into a little cup on the small coffee table. “Have you talked to Nate?”

“We talk all the time, Mom. He’s joined a church, now,” said Preston, smiling encouragingly at her. “He works and lives in it, under Charles Patoshik.”

“Under Reverend Patoshik?” exclaimed his mother ecstatically. “That’s wonderful, Preston! That Reverend Patoshik, why, he cured my friend Laverne of cancer. Wonderful man, wonderful man. And they say he made a man walk again.”

Preston certainly had words about Charles Patoshik. But he didn’t want to argue with his mother. “He certainly is. He’s taken a shining to Nate. He treats him like his own son.” Which was why Preston had seen a lot less of his brother. Every waking minute, he was down at the church, helping Patoshik prepare sermons.

His mother’s face fell a little at the word, ‘son’, but then she smiled weakly, and sat in the chair near Preston. “Do you have a girlfriend?” she asked.

“Yes,” he replied, since it would be bad to say, ‘not in the strictest sense’.

“Is she pretty?”

“Very.”

“Good” There was an awkward pause, filled by the sound of the numerous clocks. “Do you hate me, Preston?” asked his mother slowly.

“No!” said Preston quickly, leaning forward. “I love you, Mom. Of course I do.” He took one of her hands in both of his. “Don’t ever think I don’t love you, Mom.”

“Good, good.” She was silent for a moment, and then began to cry. “I’m so sorry, Preston. I’m so sorry for what I did to you and Nate.”

Preston stood, shushing her and putting an arm around her shoulders to comfort her. Her words of apology quickly broke down into incoherent, sad babbles. Preston rocked her slightly, trying to soothe her.

Eventually, between long pained sobs, his mother stood, wiping her face. “I have a card for you. You always asked about your father when you were children.” She retreated back into the kitchen, and then returned with a small card. “This is the number of a private investigator. His name is Mr Frainey. I think he can help you find your father. All you need to do is tell him your father’s name. Richard L’Talian.