Hair Color: Brown naturally, bleached blonde highlights
Eye Color: Brown
True age: 28
Sex: Male
Height: 6'0''
Nationality: American (of Norwegian descent!)
Distinguishing characteristics: His ever changing (often gravity defying) hair styles and sometimes quirky fashion sense. Burn scars on middle and upper back and neck.
Any other languages: Decently fluent in Norwegian and Spanish.
Personality: Greg is intelligent, quirky, audacious, and exceptionally gregarious. He flirts and banters wittily with anyone and everyone. He’s a bit of a showman as well, as evident by the fact he loves putting on displays when presenting facts to coworkers. Greg can be a little cocky about his work - he’s good, and he knows it, and isn’t afraid to say so. He’s eternally optimistic as well, and a bit of a pacifist in nature. He’s curious (‘addicted to the pursuit of knowledge’ he’s said) and loves (sometimes needs) a challenge and he can occasionally get bored easily due to his high intelligence. While he often likes to act the part of the class clown, Greg can and will be serious when the situation calls for it; and he never gives less than 110% on anything he applies himself to. While his lofty IQ can occasionally make him appear overconfident, Greg is well aware and the first to admit there is always something new to learn.
Any special skills: Above average intelligence, advanced degrees (BS in Chemistry from Stanford, Masters from Berkeley) and training (he was a DNA tech pre-flu). Is an Eagle Scout. Has a working knowledge about sailboats. Very knowledgeable about numismatics (coin collecting). His grandmother claimed to have ‘psychic abilities’ and the family was certain Greg inherited a sixth sense from her - he is sometimes a little doubtful on that. In general, Greg has a little bit of knowledge about a lot of things.
History: Greg was born in San Gabriel, California; where he enjoyed a happy childhood living with his mother, father, and Scandinavian grandparents. It was clear from an early age that Greg was a child of above-average intelligence; and that he had an aptitude and affinity for science. After receiving a toy chemistry set at the age of four, Greg knew he wanted to be a scientist. Greg started school a year early and quickly he advanced through the grades, scoring off the charts in his standardized math and science examinations. It wasn’t long before his parents were urged to send him to a private academy for gifted students.
School was never a challenge for the prodigy, he was an active participant in his education and did his best to be accepted by his peers, though his aptitude and his mother’s over-protectiveness lent him to become the Captain of the Chess Club rather than the Football Team. Greg always stood out from the crowd with his wildly entertaining personality, a rarity among the serious-minded multitudes. Because Greg spent a majority of his teenage years around adults in mature environments, he was almost painfully aware that the stressful pace and highly charged competition would cause him to miss out on some of the joys of youth. This causes him to occasionally seek little moments of levity when the people around him think he perhaps shouldn’t.
He received a full ride to Stanford and graduated Phi Beta Kappa a year early and in possession of a BS in Chemistry. He did his Masters work at UC Berkeley after spending a summer and a semester in NYC (to ‘broaden his horizons’). Once finished with his Masters, Greg took a position with the San Francisco PD Crime Lab. Eager to fit into the world outside the classroom, Greg became a pop culture junkie, developing an eclectic set of tastes and interests. He invented a hip sensibility in order to appear more sophisticated and maintain a semblance of cool. While doing his best to be adventurous in life, Greg has been known to make veiled references to many escapades that, in reality, he has most likely only read about.
After two years in San Francisco, Greg accepted a position with the number two rated lab in the country - Las Vegas - as the DNA Tech for the night shift; a very prestigious position, especially for someone his age. He quickly became known for his wild dress code and irreverent humor juxtaposed with intimidating skills in the lab. Over his time there, his fellow night shift members, lab techs and CSIs alike, slowly became like a second family to him.
Greg had known for years he enjoyed the company of both men and women (it was the person, not the gender that mattered) and wasn’t surprised when he managed to form crushes on two of his coworkers - Sara Sidle and Nick Stokes. He flirted a little more heavily with them than everyone else (because for Greg, flirting is a basic form of communication). Sara never really responded in more than a sisterly fashion, having eyes seemingly only for their boss, Gil Grissom. Nick on the other hand...well, it was tentative at times, but Greg knew they had a connection. It took a while and a few relationships on the side for each before they half-stumbled into a relationship together.
Life couldn’t be better for Greg. He had a job he loved, the best friends and coworkers a person could ask for and he and Nick were happy together. Of course it was at this point that Greg’s mind began to turn to something new. He wasn’t really bored with his job he just...wanted more of a challenge. He watched Nick and the other go out and solve crimes - be heroes - day in and day out and part of him wanted to be out there with them. Grissom told him it would mean a pay cut, but that didn’t matter. It was something he really wanted to try.
Of course, life decided that was the perfect time to throw him a major curve ball. The day after his 28th birthday an unknown chemical was left under the fume-hood in the lab. By chance, a faulty heater was left on as well. Greg had the misfortune of being in the room at the moment that the liquid combusted. He was thrown through the glass wall and into the hallway with partial to full thickness (2nd and 3rd degree) burns over a fair portion of his back.
His recovery was a slow process, but Nick was by his side and he was making the best of it. He returned to work after a few weeks (far too early perhaps, but Greg insisted), bandages still covering even the milder burns. He was also sporting newly developed tremors that now shook his hands more often than not. The doctors said it was stress related, most likely, and not nerve damage and he kept it under control well enough to still do his job. The course of his treatment was moving along well for the most part until roughly five to six weeks after the explosion when a strange virus that people started calling Captain Trips sprang up out of nowhere.
Jacqui Franco, one of the Fingerprint Techs, was the first to get sick; and several of the other techs including Henry from Tox followed soon after. Archie from AV left to tend to his family back home at the same time Bobby Dawson from Ballistics reported that both his partner and their little girl had come down with the rather virulent bug. Catherine lost it when her daughter died, barely noticing that she herself was in rough shape. Warrick noticed, but wasn’t able to do much past care for her in her final hours before succumbing to the flu himself. Then finally, the day he’d been dreading arrived when Nick started coughing. Greg did his best to nurse the Texan, but it was to no avail. Nick died on the 29th of June, two days after Grissom, who had been the last person the two had spoken with.
Completely numb and not entirely aware of what he was doing, Greg returned to the lab after burying Nick. He hadn’t expected to see anyone there and was shocked when Sofia Curtis met him in the hallway. He didn’t know the Day Shift CSI all that well, but she’d always seemed to be a decent person. They spoke briefly as they gathered supplies and Sofia urged Greg to leave the city and soon. He was more than happy to agree to that idea - a feeling had been growing in his gut that something bad was coming to Vegas. They parted ways and Sofia was the last person Greg would see alive for almost a week.
Getting out of Vegas and driving back home to San Gabriel took almost an entire day, twice as long as it normally would have. After confirming his parents and grandparents were indeed dead Greg slipped into a bit of a fugue for a while. Days passed, though he had no idea how many. He ate when he remembered to, probably not as often as he should have. He slept, but not terribly well. Dreams haunted him and not just ones about the lab explosion. A man calling himself Randall Flagg was taking up residence in Vegas and he wanted Greg to come back to the city. Spoke sweetly about all the jobs he had for Greg to do. All things he could offer to someone with his talents. When he’d hesitate at the bribery the dreams would turn dark. His friends would be angry with him for living, for letting them die, or they would be killed in front of him as he stood frozen and unable to act. Other dreams; nicer and calmer, filtered in - though far less frequently - from a woman called Mother Abigail. She just wanted Greg to join her in Nebraska first, then later Boulder. No promises (other than a good meal and decent company) and no threats. He liked those dreams, but just wasn’t able to get himself to move one way or the other.
That changed one day as he sat at the beach staring at the waves and wishing he was anywhere but there. A man approached him, politely (at first) asking him to accompany him to Vegas. When he remained unresponsive the man, Morgan Grant, pulled a gun on him - that’s when a second man came out of nowhere. He spoke with a pronounced Mancunian accent and an almost lighthearted manner - on the surface anyway. Before Greg knew what was happening the two men were dueling with swords. The Englishman won, and seemed frustrated when the freak lightning storm that followed the beheading stopped striking him midway through and went to a crow instead. After the fireworks ended, he introduced himself as Nigel Hawthorn and invited Greg for some coffee - as if the world as they knew it hadn’t died off only weeks before. Over coffee he explained to Greg that there was a group of people (of which he was a part) in the world that could not die unless beheaded and that they called themselves Immortals.
Nigel spent the following day with Greg, helping him gather supplies and telling him anecdotes about his life and a little more information on Immortals. Things he felt Greg needed to know before he went out on the road. When Greg asked why they wouldn’t be traveling together Nigel replied that though he would like to, he wouldn’t be able to as he had another mission in front of him. More people to help, to save, before he would be allowed to head to Boulder. They parted amicably and with a promise to see each other ‘down the road.’
After Nigel left he took an extra day to ensure he was fully stocked and prepared before heading north, first along the ocean then cutting over into the mountains in the east when he felt he was a safe enough distance from Vegas that it was unlikely anyone would be traveling his route. His route was long and winding and the travel slow going by choice at times and by circumstance at others. A week passed, then two, and the silence weighed heavily upon Greg. He didn’t like being alone. He avoided contact with others though, unsure as to whether or not he would be able to trust anyone he encountered upon the road. He just hopes his sanity will remain intact until he reaches Boulder; or that if he does encounter someone they will be a person he can trust - and that he’ll realize it in time to save himself if they aren’t.
****As a note to CSI fans, I have done a little fudging with the canon dating for CSI, moving events back a year to better fit the situation I wanted to pluck Greg from with the date in game.
Character's full name: Gregory Hojem Sanders
History: Greg was born in San Gabriel, California; where he enjoyed a happy childhood living with his mother, father, and Scandinavian grandparents. It was clear from an early age that Greg was a child of above-average intelligence; and that he had an aptitude and affinity for science. After receiving a toy chemistry set at the age of four, Greg knew he wanted to be a scientist. Greg started school a year early and quickly he advanced through the grades, scoring off the charts in his standardized math and science examinations. It wasn’t long before his parents were urged to send him to a private academy for gifted students.
After two years in San Francisco, Greg accepted a position with the number two rated lab in the country - Las Vegas - as the DNA Tech for the night shift; a very prestigious position, especially for someone his age. He quickly became known for his wild dress code and irreverent humor juxtaposed with intimidating skills in the lab. Over his time there, his fellow night shift members, lab techs and CSIs alike, slowly became like a second family to him.
Jacqui Franco, one of the Fingerprint Techs, was the first to get sick; and several of the other techs including Henry from Tox followed soon after. Archie from AV left to tend to his family back home at the same time Bobby Dawson from Ballistics reported that both his partner and their little girl had come down with the rather virulent bug. Catherine lost it when her daughter died, barely noticing that she herself was in rough shape. Warrick noticed, but wasn’t able to do much past care for her in her final hours before succumbing to the flu himself. Then finally, the day he’d been dreading arrived when Nick started coughing. Greg did his best to nurse the Texan, but it was to no avail. Nick died on the 29th of June, two days after Grissom, who had been the last person the two had spoken with.
That changed one day as he sat at the beach staring at the waves and wishing he was anywhere but there. A man approached him, politely (at first) asking him to accompany him to Vegas. When he remained unresponsive the man, Morgan Grant, pulled a gun on him - that’s when a second man came out of nowhere. He spoke with a pronounced Mancunian accent and an almost lighthearted manner - on the surface anyway. Before Greg knew what was happening the two men were dueling with swords. The Englishman won, and seemed frustrated when the freak lightning storm that followed the beheading stopped striking him midway through and went to a crow instead. After the fireworks ended, he introduced himself as Nigel Hawthorn and invited Greg for some coffee - as if the world as they knew it hadn’t died off only weeks before. Over coffee he explained to Greg that there was a group of people (of which he was a part) in the world that could not die unless beheaded and that they called themselves Immortals.
