ENDICOTT, Sinclair

[Deleted]

Sinclair Endicott

But the blood on my hands scares me to death
Maybe I'm waking up today

Interrogation

Full Name: Sinclair Endicott

Nicknames: Sin, Sinny, Clair

Date of Birth: January 2nd, 1993

Age: 26

Gender: Male

Sexual Orientation: Demisexual

Occupation: Former Animal Handler

Crime:

- Sleepwalking Homicide at 17 - Acquitted, sent to a psychiatric institute for a year
- Multiple Sleepwalking Homicides from 20 to 24 - Insanity Plea

Three homicides, that of his own family, were claimed to be too elaborate to be done while sleepwalking, and he was convicted of three counts of first degree murder. Three life sentences without parole at Boarwood where he is also to seek psychiatric treatment.

Sentence: Three life sentences without parole plus psychiatric care when deemed necessary

Risk Group: High

Affliction: N/A

Appearance

Hair Colour: dark brown
Eye Colour: black
Height: 6'2"
Weight: 150lbs
Tattoo(s): n/a
Piercing(s): n/a
Birthmark(s): n/a
Scar(s):

Various claw and bite marks littering his body from working with dogs and cats. He has a few larger scars on his back from when he was whipped with a switch as a child.

Personality

Likes:

animals, sweets, saturday morning cartoons, comic books, music, stories, familiar faces

Dislikes:

small spaces, the dark, raised voices, raised hands, sudden touches from behind, stress, broccoli

Best Personality Qualities:

dedicated, playful, patient, optimistic

Worst Personality Qualities:

naive, oblivious, childish, brittle

Summary of Personality

Sinclair was never a social butterfly when it came to other people. Forming those important connections had always been hard for him, finding more solace in animals than people, yet for those fair few who have been able to push their way past his barriers, they have been able to find a blossoming young man whose smile could light up a room. He could easily be described as childish, though it is definitely more nativity coupled to his lacking social development and previously sheltered lifestyle. He can miss certain social cues, completely misread the mood of the room, and he might have to ask a dozen questions to understand what is going on. The patience his mother put into him definitely rubbed off onto him, however.

In unfamiliar surroundings and around unfamiliar people, Sinclair's natural defense mechanism to reduce stress is to recede into himself. He closes himself off, and it can take a little bit of coaxing and prying, and the right questions, to get him to start actively participating in a conversation. Once you get him talking, however, it may be hard to shut him up.

Sinclair can come off as a pushover, a prime target for anyone looking to flaunt their power; however, as patient as he may be, even Sinclair has his limits. There were some habits that even twenty-two years later he was not able to break, and he will bare his teeth, growl, and bite if he is cornered with no hopes of escape.

History

Father:

Unknown birth father
Various Foster Parents
Mark Endicott - Adoptive Father - Lawyer - Deceased

Mother:

Unknown birth mother
Various Foster Parents
Lilian Endicott - Adoptive Mother - Teacher - Deceased

Siblings:

Lucy Endicott - Adoptive Sister - Deceased

Spouse/Partner: N/A
Children: N/A
Other(s): 

Florrie Marlow - 'Assistant'

Pet(s):

More than you can count. He never truly felt at ease unless he was around his animals, and he had quite the collection, most of which were trained and used for various commercials and online videos. As soon as he understood what had happened, he made sure his assistant would take care of them. He still seems to think he will be able to see them again at some point.

History:

• There was a foul smell coming from the last apartment on the top floor of a rundown building in a rural town. Neighbors complained constantly about the sound, about the dogs barking nonstop, about the thumping and crying. The tenants never answered the door, so the police were eventually called. They found five dogs living in absolute filth, the windows boarded up, trash and feces piled high, and a four year old child crouched on all fours in the corner, teeth bared and growling like one of the dogs. All six of them were severely emaciated, and there were remains of what were once more members of the pack in farther rooms and stuffed in the freezer. Animal control and social services were called in, yet they were never able to locate the assumed parents who were marked down as the last renters of the apartment.
• The boy was treated and evaluated, though he gave everyone grief, acting much like a feral dog, frightened for his life. He was developmentally delayed, and he understood nothing they said. He would bark, growl, and bite, but the persistent efforts of the nurses, especially the ones who had dogs at home, gradually began to pay off. They were soon able to find him a foster home willing to assist in his socialization and education.
• By seven, he had shed most of his animalistic tendencies, though he can't help himself whenever he sees a dog play bow. His speech, though impaired, grew stronger and more fluent with each passing week. He finally understood that Sinclair was his name and not just what they shouted when he broke something or dug a whole in the garden, and he could write the alphabet forwards and backwards.
  
  
• He was eight when his sleepwalking, which would usually only cause him to get up, wander around his room, and then crawl back into bed, started to cause him to stray outside of his room, drawing the attention of his foster parents. They reported it to his pediatricians, but they claimed it was common in children and that they should not worry.
  
  
• His foster mother soon was pregnant with twins, and it was decided that Sinclair would be moved to another family. They would not have the time to care for twin infants and the needs of Sinclair, so it was for the best. But, Sinclair did not quite understand. They didn't want him anymore? He hadn't broken anything in months; he had been good! Was that not enough?
  
  
• The next family was not as kind, patient, nor tolerant. Despite being briefed on Sinclair's condition, as soon as the social workers were gone, so were the smiles. One wrong move would result in punishment, be it a slap across the face, a lashing with a switch, or being locked in a small, dark closet for an hour. He hated the closet the worst. Welts and bruises would eventually heal, but he hated the dark. Night terrors developed.
  
  
• Sinclair retreated into himself as a means of protection, hoping that by doing nothing he could prevent himself from doing anything that would make his foster parents mad. They found fault even in that. Thankfully, his time with them lasted for only a year before the annual review came. It was hard to cover up the damage they had done to Sinclair, and he was immediately placed into a new home, and they were revoked as eligible foster parents.
  
  
• After being juggled around the system for a few more years, Sinclair was finally adopted to a family after Lilian Endicott was given the opportunity to teach him when a foster family enrolled him in his first year of public education, a whole two years behind his age group. After only a few weeks, she convinced her husband and started the adoption process, wanting nothing more than to put Sinclair into a stable home where he could learn and thrive. At age thirteen, he was brought into the Endicott home, though Sinclair did not quite understand why he was at his teacher's house and used it as an opportunity to ask for an extension on his homework.
  
  
• Stress was high for the next year as the Endicott household adjusted to having Sinclair in their life. They were unaware of his sleepwalking and night terrors, the latter of which had gone undocumented until then. They set up baby monitors so they would know when he was up at night, and they would gently guide him back to bed. A lock was placed on his door, as much as his mother hated the thought of it. There was little they could do otherwise. That is, until their father brought home a dog, and Sinclair immediately lit up like a Christmas tree. His nights appeared calmer, so long as the dog was allowed to sleep with him.
  
  
• Thanks to the extra tutoring his mother was able to provide, Sinclair was able to take the necessary tests to skip ahead the necessary years to start high school with the other kids his age. Just because he passed the tests did not mean he was actually ready for high school, however. Socially, he was a mess, and he quickly found himself a target for bullying. There were a few saving graces, such as the teachers who came to his aid, offering him classrooms and the teacher's lounge as safe spaces. Even with people looking out for him, there was still a part of him that was a scared dog who would bare its teeth when cornered.
  
  
• He woke up in the nurse's office with a black eye and a busted lip, but he found out later that he had bitten the nose football player that thrown the first punch in the locker room. His parents were on the phone with the other boy's parents' all night while Sinclair shut himself in his room and buried his face into his dog's fur.
  
  
• He kept his head down for the rest of high school, not wanting to get into anymore trouble. Most physical bullying had disappeared after that, though he still found offensive notes drawn on his desk, left in his locker, etc. He was used to it by now; it no longer bothered him. He went home immediately, did his homework, and focused on anything else. Primarily, he taught his dog tricks.
  
  
• At sixteen, he convinced his parents to get him another dog, and he started training that one too. It was something to focus on, something to keep his mind off the stress of school, and the parlor tricks he was able to get the dogs to do put a smile on his parents' face, if only for a little bit. That was enough for him.
  
  
• At seventeen, the bullying began to worsen again. With exams and the pressure for college applications, Sinclair had no idea what to do. The baby monitor had long since been taken down, his parents thinking they no longer needed it, yet he did not tell them that he had been having issues sleeping for the past few weeks. Despite this, he still went on the school trips to visit various colleges, but he never should have, especially not when it required staying overnight. He woke up from a night terror, dazed and confused, with his roommate dead beside him.
  
  
• Sinclair immediately turned himself in, and he was acquitted on the account that he had been sleepwalking due to a night terror. This was not enough for the parents of the victim, and, on account of his parasomnia and his past, they sent him to an institution to be treated. His mother visited as often as she could, feeling that she was the one at fault for not realizing his distress sooner.
  
  
• After he was released, new medication in hand, his parents took him back in, though there was very obvious tension between his parents that Sinclair was oblivious to. He focused instead on his animals, already giving up on school.
  
  
• Soon his parents started arguing, then they started fighting. His father started drinking; his mother started crying each night. His sister had left for college. He stopped taking his medication.
  
  
• "Happy birthday, Sinclair," his mother had whispered to him that night before closing the door. He was twenty, still being tucked in by his mother. He still slept with the dogs on his bed; he had even convinced his mother to let him get a cat by this point, though the cat preferred the headboard. Sinclair pulled the covered over his head. He hated the dark, but he hated what would follow when his mother would close the door most.
  
  
• He woke up covered in blood, a knife in hand, his father's body beneath him. The dogs watched him from the living room entrance, having been told to wait only fifteen minutes ago. His mother found him shaking and sobbing over his father's body, yet she did not call the police. She helped him dispose of the body and the evidence.
  
  
• They moved to Texas, letting his sister know their new address so she would know where to go for vacation. They got a ranch, putting them far enough away from town that they could live a quieter life and so Sinclair could keep all his animals and then some. She coaxed him out of his shell once more, and he eventually got used to his new surroundings.
  
  
• In time, he ventured out into town and made a friend name Florrie. She was a film student who honestly only approached him because she thought he was an adorable man walking four dogs at the time. She needed to get a shot of that. She was the one who pitched the idea of putting videos of his animals online; everyone loves animal videos. So, he hesitantly invited her over--his mother was thrilled to bits that he made a human friend--and let her meet the rest of his animals. By this point he had a whole pack of dogs, three cats, two cows, a horse, a goat, and five chickens. The chickens were not trained in the slightest, but the rest were to some extent.
  
  
• He let Florrie handle everything. She liked to call herself his assistant, but really she was the mastermind. He just supplied the animals. Eventually, local companies in the area reached out to them to have some of the animals be used for commercials, which Florrie jumped at despite the extra stress it put on Sinclair. It provided extra income, at least, which helped keep them fed.
  
  
• His sister moved back in when he was twenty-three, and while she questioned where their father went, their mother was able to quickly spin a lie that he was away on business. It satisfied her for a while.
  
  
• His mother started taking up more part-time jobs, though she never told him why. He asked his sister if she knew, and she bluntly said it was probably because they were too poor. Sinclair called up Florrie to see if there was more work they could do to help out. She suggested live shows, so they started showing up at parties and businesses when hired.
  
  
• It was at one of those business parties that he was told to wait around afterwards, so he sent Florrie ahead to pack up everyone. Naive Sinclair took the drink that was handed to him and ended up in someone else's home. He woke up in a cold sweat, fear gripping him. What might have been a night of pleasure for one person turned into a night terror for him, and he woke up with his hands around their neck. Sinclair quickly clothed himself and fled.
  
  
• It was dawn by the time he was able to find his way home, and he was greeted by his worried mother and Florrie, who immediately went to the ranch when he didn't turn up. They had been waiting for him. He refused to tell them what happened, but Florrie could at least piece together what initially happened.
  
  
• The death of the businessman showed up on the news later that week, and one look at Sinclair was all his mother needed to know what happened.
  
  
• Sinclair could not sleep. He stayed up for nights on end, worried that any sirens he heard in the distance were coming for him.
  
  
• "Flor, you... remember where the spare is, right? C-can you-- can you take care of the animals for me? I'm, uh, gonna be away. For a while. Don't question it. Thanks."
  
  
• Sinclair turned himself in after waking up to find both his mother and sister slain, vaguely remembering details of past abusers in his terrors. There was no denying the blood covering his clothing or his hands or the way his animals obediently did not interfere the entire time. They could not find the knife until searching the ranch, finding it in the cow pasture, discarded sometime before he had woken up.
  
  
• He confessed to everything but under the insanity defense per his lawyer's insistence. It had worked the first time, but it only waved two of the charges against him. All of the murders of his family members were treated as conscious intentions. With three counts of first degree murder, he was given three life sentences without parole. The court sent him to Boarwood so he could be treated as well as securely contained.
  
  
• He was heavily medicated his first few months at Boarwood and doesn't remember much of it, though he was recently deemed fit to integrate into the rest of the prison. They will continue to monitor his progress with frequent evaluations.

Who are you?

Your Alias: Ultima
Your Roleplay Experience: 10+ years
Your Other Characters: n/a
Triggers: n/a

[Spike Hunter]

Accepted

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