My name is Anabelle Winchester, but I usually just go by Annie. As you might have deduced, I'm not from around here. I've joined you all from the "sunny" and "warm" city of London to join your Diagnostics Department.
Some fun things to know about me: I'm 22, and fresh out of medical school. I graduated from the University of Oxford, where I began my studies at the age of 16. I was able to do this because, and I don't like calling myself this, I was a rather genius child, helped due to posessing a nigh-photographic memory.
Though, I'm far from perfect, many would tell you I am rather likely on the spectrum. Therefore I'd be remiss not to apologise in advance for any social cues I miss, or any perceived mishaps.
I'm not very outgoing, apart from being a workaholic, I vastly prefer a cozy night in with the kettle on. Nothing beats a good book if you were to ask me, although I do enjoy a pint once every often.
I am an out and proud lesbian, though I'm not in a relationship with anyone.
As cliché as it sounds, I went into medicine because I care for others a bit too much, I felt an obligation to use my gifts to help others.
OOC: SOME RANDOM FACTS ABOUT ANNIE THAT SHE WOULDN'T MENTION OUT THE GATE.
She grew up rich, and I mean RICH, OLD MONEY RICH. Her father has an oil and mining fortune, one she was promptly cut off from the second she graduated med school. She still speaks and seems like a posh twat, but she's just nice, okay?
Her mum's been dead ever since she was 11, having ended her own life due to the abuse her father put on the family. 4 years later, when her sister, Alex, was 18 she left the house and left Annie to shoulder all of it alone, going no-contact with both her and their father. This created a bit of resentment toward Alex for Annie, who'd began to act out heavily now.
Her father is an alcoholic, a trait she inherited from him, something she'd find out in her teens as she went on a self-destructive phase of five years, only ending in her final year of med school. Thanks to her photographic memory, secondary school and med school were a breeze, only further enabling these self destructive tendencies.
She took a near-obsessive approach to being perfect in every way. From only the most expensive clothing, perfectly maintained hair, and manicured nails, to never scoring below a 95% on any given subject. Alongside this, she could easily make friends with the popular girls, developing a mean streak that would only get worse the more she'd get to show off her intelligence. She made friends easily by overly analysing others, reading them, viewing it through a logical lens rather than a social one.
By age 16, she'd amassed her own little clique, relentlessly tormenting any of her fellow students or acquaintances for even the most minute perceived slight. Not helping in the matter was her going against her father’s wishes and sleeping around with just about anyone she could find. She’d developed a taste for alcohol and designer drugs, also using these as an excuse for her own sexuality, so that if it ever got out she slept with girls she could just claim she was drunk. Annie struggled with being a lesbian for a number of years, due to her father's rather homophobic attitude and internalised homophobia, something she'd only accept about herself when she got into med school.
By age 18, a normal week for Annie consisted of spending the day either ruling her class with an iron fist or aiding her father in the family business while studying pre-emptively for the University of Oxford where she planned to study medicine, originally only doing this because doctors were a universally praised people. By night she would be out dressed like the richest Barbie there was, out at all hours, from one party to the next, never sober, always in someone else’s bed.
Her change of heart came through her and her sister reconciling over the summer in her final year of med school, Alex having been doing charity work full-time, causing Annie to reflect back on herself and how she'd become just like her father.
She still struggles with various addictions, but knows how to keep a big smile on her face and not let anyone really figure them out.
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Annie is highly-functioning autistic, she just struggles a lot with social nuances, rapid change, and can't function in a disorganised environment.
She's bipolar, but masks it pretty well, and is on mood stabilisers. Continuing with her masking, she's rather traumatised by her home life and past yeaes, but won't ever really openly talk about it until she suffers an inevitable meltdown from keeping it all inside. She works herself to the bone so she can't let herself feel things, often forgetting to eat or sleep for a day or two.
dr james wilson is always getting stuck in windows like some sort of porn protagonist. type of guy to “accidentally” trap himself in a washing machine.
Yeah, his fellows are often called the ducklings. It's adorable and hilarious. I've also heard you all be called his children and no thank you I have plenty
It's early in the morning, and Chase is in the office with his head down on the table, papers scattered near his head. His laptop is in front of him, screen blank.
His head jerks up as the door opens behind him, and he turns around startled.
Strolling into the office with her usual chipper and relaxed strut, Annie places a small tupperware box of various flavours of cupcakes down on the large table. Something she'd turned into a sort of weekly routine.
"Rough night? Or, well, a fun one I suppose?"
She digs through her bag, almost comically large on her smaller frame, picking out her water bottle.
Chase picked up a cupcake, examining it before setting it down in front of him. He did, however, take a sip of the water bottle she'd offered him.
"Thanks. Do you have a laptop charger I could borrow?" He added the last sentence as an afterthought, as he tried to power his laptop on only to find it was dead.
It's early in the morning, and Chase is in the office with his head down on the table, papers scattered near his head. His laptop is in front of him, screen blank.
His head jerks up as the door opens behind him, and he turns around startled.
Strolling into the office with her usual chipper and relaxed strut, Annie places a small tupperware box of various flavours of cupcakes down on the large table. Something she'd turned into a sort of weekly routine.
"Rough night? Or, well, a fun one I suppose?"
She digs through her bag, almost comically large on her smaller frame, picking out her water bottle.
