Kalon 611 Entry - Barclay Grim Witherspoon

[Master of Nothing]

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Adoption Thread

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seedcake's Form

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Username ➻ Master of Nothing
Partner ➻ seedcakes
Name ➻ Barclay Grim Witherspoon
Gender ➻ male
Orientation ➻ heterosexual
Age ➻ 27
Occupation ➻ forensic microbiologist
Residence ➻ London, England

Music ➻

And The Waltz Goes on - André Rieu - composed by Sir Anthony Hopkins

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[Master of Nothing]

Basic History ➻

Barclay was born in London, England. He had no siblings, but a couple of friends which he met mostly through his private school. His parents weren't the richest of couples, but his mother's family were a bunch of wealthy folk, mostly doctors and scientists. It was always expected of Barclay to follow in his family's footsteps when it came to careers; his true passion is in sci-fi films, but science would do. When Barclay was young, his father mysteriously disappeared. His mother refused to believe her husband had left them for good intentionally, and thankfully for her there was evidence to support he didn't. At the site of Mr. Witherspoon's last known sighting was a single drop of blood, which proved through tests to be his. Barclay decided that if his career field were to be decided for him, at least he could do something that meant something to him. He became a forensic microbiologist, always with the goal of finding his father - or at least help others in a similar situation. His specialty is in the analysis of blood, but he knows how to examine other microbiological items that may appear at a crime scene. After graduating from college Barclay mostly lived alone, enjoying the contrast from living with his mother and especially from living with dorm mates. Now, however, he's housing his work partner, Bella, whom he took in after learning she was orphaned and homeless. He still hasn't found his father or made any progress in his case, but he won't loose hope.

[Master of Nothing]

Personality ➻

Barclay is, quite frankly, a jerk in the eyes of most. He acts to be so bold and apathetic because he would hate for people to see him "vulnerable", as he considers any expression of emotion or sympathy. He tends to be arrogant and snarky because he believes with all his heart that the majority of his opinions should be taken for truth rather than, well, opinions. At least he doesn't flaunt this negativity; he prefers to express subtle clues that over time reveal themselves to others. In fact, at first glance, Barclay simply looks like a proud man with an intelligent mind. His eyes give him away, how his eyes are always soft and watery no matter how hard he pretends to be strong. Another thing that he's good at pretending is not to have fun. Nothing is a joke to him; he must always seem professional, proper, mature. Which... is kind of annoying. Despite all of his negative traits, Barclay's friends stick with him for who he pretends not to be. If one looks closely enough, they can see it flicker inside him, the inventive mind, the passion, the silent bursts of happiness that shine through. He's not perfect, but Barclay isn't one to dismiss due to first, or even second, impressions.

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Likes and Dislikes ➻

Likes ➻
✓ Horchata - Horchata is a sweet drink consisting of milk and cinnamon. It's Barclay's favorite drink. He could have it every day of his life and never get sick of it, it's kind of an obsession.
✓ Reptiles - Barclay is fascinated by reptiles. He would like to own one some day, but doesn't have the time or money to take care of one now.
✓ England - England is where Barclay was born, raised, and now lives. He has a respect for the nation and an interest in the vast national history.
✓ The Victorian Era - Yes, yes, who doesn't love the Victorian era? But, hey, Barclay does, too! Everything about it intrigues him, but mostly the culture. If he were to travel in a time machine, he'd go there.
✓ Winter - Some people despise winter for its cold climate and because of its distance from summer, but few things can make Barclay happier. He loves the overall mood of everything, and he doesn't mind the cold temperatures, either.

Dislikes ➻
✕ Waking Up Early - What's the point of it, anyway, Barclay asks? Besides, it's not like he gets to cure his tiredness with a cup of coffee or tea either; he hates both of them, along with caffeinated energy drinks, so he's just stuck with being tired.
✕ Board games - Ick, more like bored games! In Barclay's mind, playing cards is much preferred over a game of chess or checkers.
✕ Memes - How dare you, Barclay! He simply doesn't understand how or why memes became a thing.
✕ Spiders - Barclay fears them more than anything! Even the non-venomous ones creep him out.
✕ Mess - Barclay is always trying to keep things orderly. Dirty carpets, empty soda cans on counters, and stains on clothes drive him crazy.

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Quirks ➻

◐ Ever since "the accident" where nerves in Barclay's left hand were damaged, he's avoided using his left hand at all when possible, though he was born left handed.
◐ Barclay runs his hand through his beard when he's thinking or focusing hard.
◐ He raises his eyebrows when he's nervous, so at a young age he has some pretty legit worry lines.
◐ Whenever he's concerned about someone (usually Bella) he makes little origami roses and leaves them somewhere noticeable.
◐ Barclay smiles uncontrollably when he's bored, sort of a subconscious attempt to be entertained. Everyone finds it really weird, and kind of creepy.

[Master of Nothing]

At Home ➻

Barclay's home is very orderly and clean, though he's a little more lenient about its appearance than his laboratory. It's still pretty outdated, but he's added his own modern touches. He's a huge fan of do-it-yourself projects when he's got the time, which isn't frequently. He tries to act as the "landlord" of the house now that Bella's around, but he's not great at keeping up with her. The two like completely different styles and have conflicting ideas about what a comfortable home looks like, but the two co-workers and best friends make it work.

At the Lab ➻

Barclay's forensic microbiology laboratory looks just like one might expect it to; it's cold and sterile, and yet packed with equipment, evidence, and report files. Everything is a little too clean, though if one were to run a hand across the table, they'd probably find themselves with a pretty dusty hand. While keeping according to regulation, Barclay tries to make the place as comfortable as he can, since he spends a good chunk of his time there.

[Master of Nothing]

Relationships ➻

Belaruse Buckinly ➻
Bella is Barclay's assistant and best friend. He cares about her more than anyone else, though he'd never admit it. He pretends to hate her, actually, but he's not very good at it. He lets his emotions slip sometimes around her, which never happens in front of anyone else. He genuinely enjoys her company and is thankful to have her in his life, though the first time they met they didn't seem like they'd wind up being so close.

Susanna Francis ➻
Susanna is Barclay's distant relative. They met at one of their relative's weddings and have been communicating since. They visit each other every once and a while, as Susanna lives in France. Though Barclay believes her to be a good person, he also finds Susanna extremely annoying the majority of the time. Susanna also functions as Barclay's intern; as she's a psychologist in training, the two can have some pretty interesting conversations about some of Barclay's forensic cases. She helps to answer some of his questions about the behaviors of convicted suspects, for Barclay's curiosity or for the benefit of the case.

[Master of Nothing]

Barclay looked down at his left hand, which was tightly wrapped in white bandages. "Once it's done healing you may consider physical therapy," the doctor was telling him, and he was barely listening, "but I can't guarantee that you'll retain full function. The majority of the nerves in your hand were damaged, so you might want to consider learning to write with your non-dominant hand."
The doctor chuckled to himself as if he had just made a joke. If he had, Barclay didn't catch it. He frowned. "... Thank you, sir, I appreciate it." A lie. Why was he so angry at the doctor? It wasn't like it was his fault, it was Barclay's. Well, maybe not Barclay's fault, but certainly not the doctor's.

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Barclay was ashamed of the accident. If he were to be injured, he would've wished that it had occurred as a consequence of something noble, or at least cool - action movie material. But no.
It had been at the old ice rink where everyone in the community tended to gather. Barclay was there with a couple of friends, kids he'd met in college. The others had all been a part of an ice skating club as children, which Barclay had always found just a bit bizarre, but was now beginning to wish he could've been a part of. They moved flawlessly across the ice, attracting attention from admirers around the rink. All eyes were on the kids jumping and twirling in the air, gliding around the ice with the grace of a ghost. It was clear to the spectators that Barclay was one of their group; the three other boys called for him to join them. Not wanting to make a bad impression with such a big audience watching, Barclay joined in, doing his best to follow the lead of his dorm mate. He'd started to believe he was getting the hang of it, grinning every time he stuck a landing. His small successes would be short-lived.
Barclay felt himself hit the ice, but little more. A thin pain gripped his left wrist, like a witness to a murder whispering for help. His wrist had been cleanly broken and several nerves severed because he happened to land with all his weight on his arm.The next thing he'd remembered, he'd woken up in the hospital. This was Barclay's fifth journey back, his first after getting his cast removed.

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With the doctor done talking with him, Barclay left the hospital to return home. He sighed as he trudged through the freezing parking lot to reach his car. London could never be a perfect temperature, could it? His car was brand new; that new car smell still lingered on the shiny green metal. It had been a gift from Barclay's mother, who was able to purchase it through money she had intended to give Barclay for college. That was before Barclay was able to earn a full scholarship through his volunteer work at the museum.
Barclay got in his car and turned it on. He tried to grab the wheel with his left hand, but remembering that it was useless for now, he switched to using only his right. He started backing out of the parking lot, concentrating on steering the car. He hardly noticed the girl rush behind him.
She screamed and jumped like a frightened squirrel. Barclay rolled down his window and squinted at the girl. She was around Barclay's age, maybe a year or two younger. She wore a hooded cape, and her bright eyes masked the dirt on her face. Her eyes were wide but not surprised, more like curious or perhaps even devious. "Sorry, ma'am!" he called. "Watch where you're going next time..." he called out the window.
The girl shrugged. "Same to you!" to Barclay's shock, the girl stuck her tongue out at him.
"What a weirdo." Barclay murmured to himself. The girl had moved out of the way enough for him to abandon the parking spot. His house was just two blocks away from the hospital, so the drive was short. The house was another gift from his mother, which she'd inherited from Barclay's grandfather. Barclay was thankful to have a house instead of an apartment or a dorm like he used to, even if the place looked like a nursing home and smelled like stale lavender.

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The man parked his car on the side of the road and headed outside. He looked up at the dull-grey sky and cursed the fact that he could see his breath. How gross!
The rest of the evening was spent doing nothing productive whatsoever- something that, to an extent, was uncharacteristic of Mr. Witherspoon. He ordered a pizza for dinner and arranged plans to watch every single episode of The Twilight Zone whilst wallowing in silent grief. He was so ashamed of the injury to his hand, and hearing that the likelihood it would function properly is next to none was severely bothersome.
While waiting for the pizza to come, Barclay decided to take out his trash. He hated chores, but nonetheless they needed to be done.
Barclay's trash can was located just outside his house, on the edge of his short stretch of property. Yet another surprise waited him there- the girl had come back... And she was digging through his trash?
Barclay knit his eyebrows and dropped his trash bag before approaching the girl. "Did... did you follow me?" he asked. This meeting could not be pure coincidence, could it?
The girl smiled, unbothered and unashamed. "That would be correct, sir," she chirped. "You have a lovely car, I must say!"
"...What are you doing in my trash?" he asked.
"Finding things, obviously! You're quite the wasteful man if I do say so myself..." the girl murmured as she pulled a plastic soda bottle out of the trash.
Barclay frowned at the bottle. "Are you... you know, ah, homeless?" he gently inquired.
The girl frowned back. "This girl? Bellaruse Buckinly? Homeless?"
Barclay raised an eyebrow.
Bellaruse sighed. "Fine, but I'm not homeless! I'm... simply an orphan without a family. A nomad, if you will."
Barclay grumbled, examining Bella's face. She was telling the truth. "I... don't suppose you'd like a bath? Or maybe some food?" His question was half-hearted; Barclay was a good man, but not necessarily keen on allowing a dirty stranger into his house.
Bella's face lit up, but she would only allow her happiness to show for a nanosecond. "How could I accept an invitation for dinner from a man with no name?"
"Barclay Witherspoon." Barclay said, gesturing to himself (on accident) with his left hand.
"Hm," she tried to sound uninterested, "Okay then, Barclay."
Barclay rolled his eyes and headed towards the house. He'd take care of the trash later.
"B- wait!" Bella called. Barclay looked back. "I refuse to take this as an act of pity on me. I shall do work for you, so we will be even. What do you do for a living?"
Barclay chuckled. "I'm a forensic microbiologist, dear, I doubt you could help me. Besides, even if you could, you'd have to get legal permission from my boss. It's a nice thought, though, but let's just say we're even."
Bella's face went bright red with anger. "Oh, so you think I can't help you, huh, Clay? Why, sir, you don't know miss Buckinly one bit! I'll show you!"
Barclay grinned and shook his head gently. "Okay, I'll find something for you to do. You could clean the microscope. maybe."

[Master of Nothing]

Hobbies ➻

Keeping a Dream Journal ➻
Initially Barclay kept a dream journal because his mother advised him to. Rather than providing direct solutions to problems, Barclay's mother always gave him the tools to find his own solutions. One time, she suggested for him to keep a dream journal. She didn't necessarily believe the research, but she'd heard that dreams can reveal subconscious thoughts. She thought these thoughts might be clues for Barclay to fix his problems. Barclay only even considered trying it because it was his mother who had suggested it, but once he started writing down his dreams, he found that he couldn't stop. He's fascinated in studying his own dreams, trying to decipher his dreams despite the lack of their logic. One day, if he is ever to have children, Barclay would like to read to them some of his happier dreams as bedtime stories.

Exercise ➻
Barclay's two favorite ways to exercise are through playing Gaelic football and lifting weights. He's not Irish by nationality or ancestry, but he was able to find a Gaelic football club when he was young. He joined the sport simply because it looked like it would be fun to play. When he started playing, he was shocked at how hard the game actually is, but after years of practice he's gotten a hang of it. He started weight training to prepare for Gaelic football tournaments, but now lifting weights is one of Barclay's favorite activities. He uses it as sort of a bragging right (do you even lift, bro?), and to boost his self confidence. Barclay has been conscious about how he looks ever since he was a child, as he has a naturally larger build, but thanks to his healthy habits he can be comfortable with being on the larger side.


Going to Concerts ➻
Barclay loves music. Of all kinds. He's one of those rare fellas that will tolerate pop, rock, country, classical, and techno alike. Concerts of any kind interest him, from high-end symphonies to the sketchier concerts of local teenage bands. Sometimes he goes with friends or family, sometimes alone. He makes a point to go to at least one concert a month, and is pretty disappointed if he doesn't get to go to one once every week. Concerts can get expensive, but Barclay has gone to so many that he's made friends with the venue owners and can get in to almost every concert with a discount.

Hiking ➻
To Barclay, nothing is more relaxing than taking a walk through the forest when it's dark outside. He does it during any occasion; when he's stressed, when he's happy, when he's tired, when he's lonely, when he's bored... Anything is an excuse for him to go on a hike! He usually brings a map with him and goes off-trail often. Barclay's not afraid of being lost and instead takes those moments (because they do happen) as opportunities to enjoy nature. Bella gets pretty concerned if he doesn't come back from a hike within a reasonable time frame, but Barclay's certain that he'll make it back one hundred percent of the time.

[Master of Nothing]

Flowers ➻

Barclay's mother was a florist, and so Barclay grew up adoring flowers. Now, he enjoys comparing people to flowers based on certain aspects. His flower is a mountain laurel. He came up with that conclusion when he was bored one summer afternoon. He remembered when his mother first showed him the plant, she told him that they were beautiful flowers, but that they were toxic and so could not be eaten. She also told him that they tended to grow in harsh conditions, but also grow best when the sun was out. Their white color resembled to Barclay that they were sweet but cold, and the pink tinges showing that there is color on the inside.

[Master of Nothing]

It Started with a Toothpick ➻

August 2nd, 2010, 4:37 pm
I opened the creaky door and looked around. The room's smell was quite unpleasant, a mix of something rotten and sour perfume. Other than that, though, the place didn't seem too unusual, for a crime scene at least. The room was lit with a chandelier on the ceiling and a lamp by the desk. The desk's chair, I observed, was placed astray from the desk itself; it faced the wall as if in an argument.
Bella leaned in the doorway to take a look at the room. I was shocked at her silence; in the two weeks that I'd known her, she didn't seem the type to keep silent.
A man pushed between the two of us, facing me and standing directly in front of Bella, poor her. "Mister Witherspoon," he said in a gruff voice, "remember what we're trying to find here. I don't need another victim lying around dead, even if it's you."
I frowned. "I know what has to be done, sir, don't forget that I was your intern for two years previous to this day. I can handle myself."
He leaned in close to me, and I could tell his breath smelled of cigarettes. His eyes looked glossy and strange. "And... what about your intern, 'detective'? Remember the protocol for crime scenes. She shouldn't contradict those policies."
I squinted my eyes. "Of course, sir." I said, offering the detective a sarcastic bow. This is why I quit the service as soon as I could... I thought. Detective work was never my passion, but samples collected by detectives is what I worked with daily.
As a detective's intern, I couldn't do a whole lot. I wasn't allowed to see crime scenes most of the time, and I mostly just shadowed the other detective's work and filed his papers. It was enough of a job until I could get my degree, but it sucked. I was forbidden from laying a finger on my dad's case file, and I never got around to sneaking a peek at it, either. That bothered me. Yet now my help was enlisted due to the nature of the case and the lack of detectives on duty in the area.
"C'mon, Miss Buckinly," I whispered angrily. "Let us continue to the dining room." I grabbed her arm as gently as my nerves would allow and lead her to the dining room.

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August 2nd, 2010, 4:40 pm
"You two best friends or something?" Bella asked when we reached the dining room. She immediately started investigating, studying the chairs and analyzing every scratch on the wall and floor.
I smiled, because she certainly wasn't working according to protocol, which she wouldn't have known. "We've known each other for a while, if that's what you mean..." I said, putting on rubber gloves so my fingerprints and DNA wouldn't contaminate the crime evidence. I examined the table which held a ticking clock. The weird thing was, there was a drop of liquid next to the clock.
I looked up to see if there could've been a leak in the ceiling, but it seemed that wasn't the case. I looked back down, past the clock. On the ground, another drop of liquid. I peered underneath the table, hoping to find something; a drinking glass maybe, but I found nothing.
"Any luck?" I asked.
"No." Bella replied quickly. I could hear her continue to shift around items. The crime scene would be a mess by the time the detective got it back, and I wasn't sorry.

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August 2nd, 2010, 7:59 pm
We walked together across the driveway. She sighed. I closed my eyes out of exhaustion, and I found it difficult to open them again. "So, what do you think about detective work?" I inquired.
Bella shrugged. "I guess I figured it would be a bit easier to find a lead, or at least a clue..." she was looking down at her feet, but I was more interested in the visible cloud I produced each time I breathed out. Thankfully, the winter weather was starting to set in; in London, winter weather could sometimes begin in autumn.
We'd almost reached the driveway when Bella stopped and turned around. With scrunched eyebrows she stared into the gravel and picked up what looked like a small twig. "What's this?"
I grumbled. "It's probably just a piece of bark, set it down."
Bella shook her head. "The ends are carved into points, and it's symmetrical. I think it's... a toothpick."
I grinned and rolled my eyes. "Yeah right." I squinted to take a look at it, and raised my eyebrow. "Wait... you're right! There was something in the file about the victim having a habit of carrying these around. 'Guess he didn't like getting stuff in his teeth or something."
Bella beamed as I removed a plastic bag from my jacket. "Let's run some tests on this." I said, secretly excited but mostly jealous.

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August 3rd, 2010, 11: 42 am
As promised, Bella did get to clean my microscope. I don't think she minded it as much after the previous day's success with the toothpick. I called it beginner's luck; honestly, how could she have found that?
I slid the slide with the toothpick under the microscope and took a look. "All right... We definitely have something here.... skin cells along with pieces of wood... We'll have to do some tests to find out whose they are." I shook my head, arrogantly refusing to believe Bella had actually found something important. "Do you think you could look into what brand of toothpick this is, and if it matches up with the victim's recent purchases?"
Bella nodded. Clearly she believed that her discovery was important. She rushed out of the lab, not bothering to close the metal door gently like I'd instructed her to do.
Alone, I began to set up the DNA analysis.

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August 8th, 2010, 2:12 pm
"Bella!" I called from across the room.
"Is it ready yet?"
"Yeah, we should know if we have the suspect here or not." I tapped my foot in excitement at the foot of my desk. My computer's screen showed a loading symbol as it looked for matches for the DNA that we had found on the toothpick. This was the moment of truth; Bella already determined that the toothpicks belonged to the victim, and there was an okay chance that the suspect might've gotten a hold of one of them just previous to the murder.
BEEP!
The computer flashed and a face and list of information appeared.
It was Bella.
I glared at her.
"What? You didn't care about me wearing gloves at the crime scene or not, I suppose a few skin cells must've gotten on it when I picked it up."
I sighed and shook my head. "More like billions, but okay, I guess that's my fault. If anyone else's DNA were on the toothpick, there was too much of yours for the computer to pick up."
Bella shifted uncomfortably; I was still glaring at her as a mother would to accuse her child of drawing on the walls.
"What?" Bella pressed. She looked back at the screen, and I saw the click in her brain. The only way the machine would've picked up a match is if the match had given a DNA sample to an official organization. I was using the criminal database, so...
Bella blushed. "Okay, fine. I was arrested once... Twice. You wouldn't understand."
She crossed her arms and darted off to the office I'd set up for her. She didn't see me grin or shake my head.

[Master of Nothing]

Thank you ➻

Thank you for reading my form! I hope you found it enjoyable.
Special thanks to seedcakes for being my partner for this competition, it was fun!

* All drawings in this form were created by myself, Master of Nothing. Credit to the mountain laurel picture and the music go to their rightful owners.