#about: ššššš
Text
ć oscar isaac, 42, cis man, he/him ) julio de leĆ³n was seen listening to warm healer by everything everything. lio is a trauma surgeon and known to be patient & gruff. ( rosie, 22, gmt, she/they )
further information under the cut;
TW: Homophobia, surgery, death, grief, military action, injury
BASIC INFORMATION:
FULL NAME:Ā Julio de LeĆ³n
NICKNAME(S): Lio
BIRTH DATE: April 7th
AGE: 42
ASTROLOGICAL SIGN: Aries
GENDER: Cis Man
PRONOUNS: He/Him
ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: Homoromantic
SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Homosexual
OCCUPATION: Trauma Surgeon
BACKGROUND:
BIRTH PLACE: Guatemala City, Guatemala
HOMETOWN: Guatemala City, Guatemala
PARENTS: Aleja de LeĆ³n
SIBLING(S): None
CHILDREN: Edith (8), Ivy (5), Laurence (25, Step-son)
PET(S): None
OTHER IMPORTANT RELATIVES: Cheryl Beauregard (Second-cousin)
PHYSICAL APPEARANCE & CHARACTERISTICS:
FACE CLAIM: Oscar Isaac
EYE COLOR: Brown
HAIR COLOR: Salt-and-pepper
GLASSES/CONTACTS?: Glasses at home, contacts at work
DOMINANT HAND: Right
HEIGHT: 5ā7ā
BUILD: Somewhat stocky, DILF supremacy
TATTOOS: None
PIERCINGS: None
MARKS/SCARS: Several over his chest and arms
NOTABLE FEATURES: N/A
PERSONALITY TRAITS:
POSITIVE: Patient, Reliable, Compassionate
NEGATIVE: Gruff, Standoffish, Guarded
ALIGNMENT: Lawful Neutral
MBTI: ISFJ-A
TEMPERMENT: Choleric
EXTRAS:
HOBBIES: Fitness, Reading, Gardening, Sewing
HIDDEN TALENT(S): Thanks to plenty of suturing, heās pretty good with a needle, and can sew a hem with his eyes closed.
BIGGEST ACHIEVEMENT: Graduating from Edinburgh
BIGGEST REGRET: Enlisting
MOST EMBARRASSING MOMENT: Being caught in his first relationship
FAVOURITE MEMORY: The births of his daughters
BIOGRAPHY:
In his earliest years, Julio was comfortable. He was an only child to a doting mother and a hard-working, if a little distant, father. Though the man was strict, perhaps more strict than Julio or his mother would have liked at times, but they would soon learn his reasons for this.
The memories Julio has of his father are few and far between. Each one of them is hazy except for the last; he can remember being balanced on his motherās hip, calling out for him to stay and play a little while longer before he left on his trip. His dad was hard at work, she told the little boy - he was a doctor, and he needed to go and make people better. Little Julio couldnāt understand the difference between this, and the times his father would go to work, aside from the white coat he would usually only wear for the latter.
He was five that day, and he never saw his father after it.
A few days passed before he could tell something was wrong. It was maybe a week later that his mother started drawing the blinds, and they stopped seeing their friends. She was scared of everything all of a sudden, and that made Julio scared, too. It was only when she told him they couldnāt turn the lights on anymore, and could never open the curtains, that he first wondered if they really were in trouble. One day, there was a banging at the door, with a man shouting so loudly on the other side that his mother covered his ears as they hid behind the couch. He can remember how tightly she clutched onto him, and how small she seemed in that moment, and the wet feeling of her tears, sliding from her cheeks to his temple. They stayed there for a long time after the banging stopped, and it wasnāt long after that when she told him they would be going away for a long time.
He was too little to understand the realities of the war at six, or who his father had risked his life to provide aid to, or why he was killed for it, but he felt the aftershock nonetheless. They arrived in England to stay with distant family on his motherās side, and although she promised they could go back some day, he could tell from the distant look in her eye that it was a hollow sentiment. She could never go back there.
It was tough to be in a country where he spoke so little of the language, but there were kind people around. People who looked at him with large, sad eyes, who treated him like something fragile. He didnāt like that, it made him feel small, but at least they were patient with him. Cheryl was the first to break him out of that box. They were family, apparently, although he couldnāt quite see how - she didnāt know a thing about him - but she cared all the same. She sat by him as he sulked during lunchtimes and tried to rope him into games with her friends, even though they were older, and even though he was too self-conscious of the snickering whenever he mispronounced a word. He understood Cheryl was a kind person. In later years, he would come to understand that she was his second-cousin through an elaborate pattern of marriages, and that she was his best friend.
When he was 11, and moving into secondary school, Julio had adjusted to his new life, but his mother hadnāt. She still couldnāt bare to have the curtains open, and even worse, she could barely look at Julio anymore. He looked too much like his father - who she could never bring herself to talk about. More seeds of tension were sown each time she brushed off one of his questions, which culminated in a fight on his 13th birthday, where he announced his birthday wish was to be a doctor like his dad when she grew up. The woman broke down into tears, and once his few party guests had left, she gave him a letter that sheād apparently hidden for years.
Those trips his father had taken so often were work after all, but not the kind he told everybody he did. The letter was long, and more emotional than he ever remembered his father being, and detailed why heād written it in the first place. They were lucky in Guatemala City; being a doctor paid well, and afforded them a lot of privilege, but that privilege came from a bad place. Whenever he could, his father would travel to the rural areas where the civil war saw its bloodiest combat, and do what he could to heal the sick and wounded. It seemed that, upon being found out for this, his father was killed.
For the first time, Julio saw a glimpse of his motherās true pain, and felt the loss of his father more than he ever had before. It was the first time he had gotten to know the kind of person he was missing in his life, and while he held his bawling mother and promised him he would be careful for her, and his fatherās memory, he couldnāt help but reassess the kind of man he wanted to be.
It was the perfect age, after all, for discovering the kind of man he was. Other teenage frivolities started to feel trivial in the face of that knowledge, but he found himself wrapped up in them all the same. Apparently, he was a rather good-looking young man - a fact that only occurred to him when he found out that Emily B and Emily D from his maths class had been sent out in the hall for arguing over him. It was funny - he had never paid the two girls more than civil attention, but he couldnāt help but notice that the boy who had leaned between their desks to whisper this to him smelled nice, and had dimples when he laughed.
Though Julioās promise to his mother still lingered, he couldnāt help but feel a draw when the cadets came to his school, handing out leaflets and making other promises, ones that tempted him. They saw his sense of duty to others, and a hunger to find his purpose helping others, and decided to take advantage of that. It would boost his confidence, prepare him for life, help him to make friends - and, hey, if he wanted to follow in his fatherās footsteps, there were plenty of opportunities in the army.
That was something he kept a secret from his mother for years. He kept other secrets too, like his growing attraction to one of his fellow cadets, a boy with sandy hair and blue eyes and a similar sense of compassion. They became close, and made a habit of getting closer still - it wasnāt until their instructor caught them hugging in the changing rooms after all the other boys had left that they realised what an issue that might be. He wouldnāt tell anyone, he said, but they could be in a whole heap of trouble if he did - especially in the army. If they persisted, for their own safety, he might have to tell their parents. Julio didnāt fight it - the thought of his mother finding out he was there at all was too much to bare. The other boy persisted, though, and Julio didnāt see him at cadets after that.
That bitter conversation came when he graduated. There were no words for the look of pain in his motherās eyes when he told her that, not only did he want to be a doctor too, but that the UKās military had taken enough of an interest in him and his grades to put him through medical school on their own dime. It was an intense argument that left both of their voices raw and their eyes red and blotchy, but she couldnāt stop him. She hurt him, though. Her final declaration of āyou cannot honour your father this wayā would haunt him for years to come, for more reasons than he could understand in that moment.
He began his studies at the University of Edinburgh, and devoted himself to the work of medicine. There were friends and boyfriends in between, but none of them took precedent over his plans. He was going to help people. Somehow, some way, he was going to do as much good for the world as his father did. The politics behind the UKās military affairs were beyond him, and too exhausting to comprehend in the wake of his studies - but that lack of forethought would come to haunt him later too.
They told him, of course, that they were in the right. The Iraq war was supposedly a necessary evil, and he would be there to heal, not to hurt. He was utterly convinced, at that point, that he was in the right.
Medical school was one beast, but army training was another. It was brutal, and doubt began to creep in - but he persevered. He couldnāt have possibly come so far if it wasnāt his duty, could he? That was something he reminded himself of whenever a sergeant screamed obscenities in his face of his cohort mocked him, with or without realising they were doing it. He wasnāt, and he was gay - two big no-noās amongst his ranks.
His first tour was worse. He had been in practice for a long time, but seeing combat was something else. The battle didnāt end once they found the medical tent; Julio sustained plentiful injuries from his service, and performed procedures with anything from brutal conditions to insufficient, improvised equipment. Losing them was the worst. There were boys as young as 18 on his operating table, with screams that shook him to his core and stuck with him long after their last breaths.
Becoming numb took work. Years of it. He would have to serve for a minimum of 4, after all, and he didnāt know a moment of peace for any of them.
It wasnāt until a fateful operation during his 5th year that Julio realised he couldnāt continue any longer. Usually, they kept him behind - he was among their most skilled surgeons, and led his own team by that point - but he was called forward to serve as first aid during an operation. They came across a young girl, injured and suffering in the wake of their actions, and he was stopped from helping her with a firm hand on his shoulder, and a warning of disciplinary action.Ā Outraged, he insisted on getting her out of the crossfire, and only managed to avoid more serious punishment thanks to the support of a handful of the soldiers - although there were plenty who opposed. For that procedure, he spent the entirety questioning everything he devoted his life to, and a handful of months later when he had his leave, he decided to end his time at the army altogether.
He wasnāt the same man. He had proven his mother right, let his father down, and perhaps dedicated years of his life to something evil. An obsession came from his guilt, of studying the effects that war was having, and the significant harm it was doing aside from any good. He couldnāt protest - how could he possibly have the right? - but he could withdraw himself from the wider world for its own good.
Somehow, his loved ones cared for him all the same. His mother would insist on combing his hair still, and Cheryl would stop by at least once a week to keep him from getting too gloomy. She would bring her little boy, too, a new addition to her life that he grew deeply fond of, as well as other things to occupy his interest. Books. Ones he went through like water in the desert, written with prose that made him feel like he could perhaps be gentle again, and that there was light in the world despite its darkness. He was gay too, apparently, which Cheryl announced one day with a confusing nonchalance - as if it was fine. That, to his own surprise, was when Julio told her he might be too.
She had been talking about setting him up for years, but of course, all of the women sheād hoped to introduce him to were never going to pique his interest. Truthfully, he wasnāt too eager to be set up with a man either, but she promised that heād be interested in who she chose with such determination that he wouldnāt dare to refuse.
Julio was hard to love, but Rhett? Rhett was a breath of fresh air. He was handsome, and kind, and although Julio was standoffish at first as he was with most things, but they clearly interested one another, and so things snowballed from there. It wasnāt until Julio caught himself cleaning his flat and humming to himself, or perusing open positions in Glasgow hospitals, just for the possibility of reducing that pesky commute between them, that he realised he was in deep. He was not a complete man, he still had a lot of healing to do and amends to make, but he was in love. Some days, that was enough.
By the time their wedding came around, he felt much closer to the man he had always wanted to become. He was in a position of authority at the hospital, leading and mentoring others, and closer to starting the family he had always missed. Being a step-father was an honour too, and he did his best to stand by Laurence as any dad would when he came to stay.
When Rhett was offered a teaching position in Canada, of all places, Julio was shocked - but fully supportive. It was a sudden change in trajectory, but Rhett had been a rock for him for so many years while he recovered from the aftereffects of seeing combat, a comforting hold between nightmares and a calm voice of reassurance when he began to linger too long on his regrets, and so Julio knew it was his turn. They moved to Huntsville, and their lives began anew.
Once they were settled, and Julio finished getting his credentials in order to practice in Canada, their family grew yet again. Edith and Ivy, all of a sudden, were the most precious thing in his life. Julio was a reserved man, and so heād never seen himself as the look-at-these-pictures-of-my-kids-in-my-wallet type, but there he was, showing them off to anybody who made the mistake of lingering too long in the break room with him.
Still, there was more to be done. He lived a privileged life once again, the same kind he knew his father had in his infancy, and so Julio couldnāt shake the feeling that he ought to be doing more. He wanted to be a part of his childrenās lives as long as possible, but he still wanted them to see the kind of good they could do in the world. With that thought, he began the first proceedings of launching a charity. He was a busy man, of course, and had partners (WC!) to help him lead the charge - but whatever free time he had that his family didnāt need went towards the organisation.
Now, at 42, Julio wonders if heāll ever feel like heās done enough to fill that shadow - and knows heāll spend the rest of his days trying to.
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