Post by mheetu on Mar 20, 2012 15:52:28 GMT -5
EMORYSOLEILBOSWELL !
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RAINBOW SHIRTS RIBBED IN ACID LOVE
[/color]OUR LIVES ARE RIBBED IN PLASTIC LOVE, HERE I AM, HERE I AM, IT'S NOT JUST YOU
SHE LOVED ME TOO, HERE I AM, HERE I AM, IT'S NOT JUST YOU, SHE LOVED ME TOO
HERE I AM, HERE I AM, GONNA TAKE YOU[/center][/FONT][/SIZE]
nicknames: em, emmy, chirps
age: twenty
gender: male
role: college student
sexuality: heterosexual
played by: niclas gillis[/ul][/SIZE][/FONT]
TO THE END OF TOMORROW, I WILL TAKE
[/B][/color]YOU TO THE END OF MY WORLD, I'M GONNA FIGHT FOR THE RIGHT TO BELIEVE IN
MYSELF, I'M GONNA FIGHT FOR THE RIGHT TO RELEASE MYSELF, RELEASE MYSELF
IT WENT ON AND ON, IT WENT ON AND ON[/center][/FONT][/SIZE]
personality: emory is a different person with different people. he has not yet matured enough to know who he is, and he sometimes feels like one huge, messed-up lie because of it. he's not one for first impressions. if you say something he doesn't like within a month or two when he first knows you, you've offically blown it with him. he'll see you as an enemy until you can prove you're not as bad as he thinks you are, but emory is outstandingly stubborn and may refuse to see you any differently. emory has a sharp, and occasionally witty tongue. but his humour is always dry. he's one of these people who try and tear someone down in front of other people so the person seen as a threat feels ganged up on and steps down. a childish method of attack, but it does work. he is very manipulative, and can easily worm his way into someone's head. but he will usually attack someone physically or verbally instead of mentally. he is sarcastic, mouthy, and arrogant. he will always look for a chance to make someone else look stupid. he is unmerciful, cruel, and spiteful. he is rebellious, wild, and never listens to any sort of rules. he has no sense of order. he's just a complete and utter arrogant sod.
or is he?
emory hides behind his reputation as a badboy because it's the only thing he knows. that's one side of who he is, but another side of him is just the boy that never grew up. he loves recieving attention, he's playful, and actually comfortable in his own skin. he is a sweetheart, always stopping to check if someone's okay and doing all he can to help if they're not. he's charming and chatty and always up for a good time. he loves jokes, and riddles, and his intelligence is secretly astounding. he's just a messed up twenty year old boy trying to figure out where he belongs. and until then, he's struggling to let the bad side of himself take over.
likes: photography, tattoos, cold rain, ciggerates, tattoos, sub teachers, days offs, lie ins, army video games, xbox, sour sweets, painting in black and white, sleeping under trees, feeling superior, comic books, 3D, girls, classic rock music, checked t-shirts/jackets, trolling, safety, late nights, coffee, acoustic music, being feared, kids,
dislikes: the olympics, being challenged, cold coffee, bare feet, warm days, death, feeling trapped, his dark side, being interrupted, neatness, trackies, brats, bright colors, politics, fish.
strengths: - Able to hold his own
- His intelligence
- His good side
weaknesses: - His bad side
- Stubborn
- Awful cook. Never let him anywhere near the kitchen.
[/ul][/SIZE][/FONT]
TO THE END OF TOMORROW, I WILL TAKE
[/B][/color]YOU TO THE END OF MY WORLD, I'M GONNA FIGHT FOR THE RIGHT TO BELIEVE IN
MYSELF, I'M GONNA FIGHT FOR THE RIGHT TO RELEASE MYSELF, RELEASE MYSELF
IT WENT ON AND ON, IT WENT ON AND ON[/center][/FONT][/SIZE]
father: biological? cleared off ages ago.
stepfather - matthew anthony o'ceavánn
siblings: none
significant other (s): none
pets: none
hometown: oklahoma city
brief history: emory was born to a sixteen-year-old mother and a seventeen-year-old father in oklahoma. alex promised he would stick by his girlfriend, but began to panic and cleared off as soon as emory began to say 'dada.' maybe that's what scared him off, the fact that a small, vunerable little baby was calling him his father. maybe the realisation finally dawned on him about how much of a big commitment emory was. that was too much for a seventeen year old to take. saoirse always said that she and emory didn't need him, but she met and married matthew by the time emory was six years old.
she wanted emory to take matthew's last name but the young boy wasn't having any of it. he and matthew didn't get on. a mutual dislike turned to mutual hate, which turned to verbal abuse, which eventually led to physical abuse. by the time emory turned ten if he so much looked at matt the wrong way he would be beaten up. something changed in that little kid, which emory now knows as 'his dark side.' the abuse continued throughout his teen years. emory hit sixteen and he had enough of it. he packed up and left for boarding school. he hasn't looked back since.[/ul][/SIZE][/FONT]
SAY, HERE I AM, IT WENT ON AND ON, IT WENT
[/B][/color]ON AND ON, LOUDER AND LOUDER, IT'LL BUILD AND FADE, AND SOON YOUR LOVE WILL TURN
TO HATE, SHE SAID HERE I AM, SHE SAID HERE I AM, LOUDER AND LOUDER IT'LL BUILD AND FADE
FADE, AND SOON YOUR LOVE WILL TURN TO HATE[/center][/FONT][/SIZE][/B]
other characters here: none
best way to reach you: site
RP sample:
Christine's long, silk hair fell over her face like a veil. Her head was bowed. Her knees were tucked up to her chest. Her arms were folded, her fists clenched, her stomach knotted. She gritted her teeth. The cold air swept in from the open window and brushed against the bare skin on her legs. Dark grey circles were shaded under her eyes. She was tired, hungry. But she sat where she was. By the door. Frozen.
It was early in the morning. Around six O'clock. Her mum wasn't back yet. That wasn't a surprise, really. Her mum was never back first thing in the morning after a night out. She could hear her stepdad snoring downstairs and scowled to herself. Harry would have one huge temper when he woke up.
Sighing, Christine got to her feet and picked her way downstairs. The hallway had stacks of cardboard boxes piled up and cluttering up the floor. Her mum and she had moved in with Harry eight months ago, but they still hadn't managed to unpack. Every time they tried to get everything unpacked something popped up. Christine had to edge past everything carefully -to avoid a cardboard box avalanche.
Christine crept down the creaking stairs carefully and padded into the kitchen. She heard the pipes gurgle as the heating turned itself on. She glanced at the clock, twenty-five past six. Its light ticking echoed around the kitchen. She poked her head around the door, looking into the living room. Harry was lying on his stomach, his face resting on the side of the pillow, drooling and snoring loudly. His arm flopped over the side and his hand clutched a half-drunk bottle of clear alcohol. Christine rolled her eyes. It was tempting to draw on his face, but if he woke up she knew she would be dead meat. He was always cranky when you woke him up too early.
She wanted to make some tea to try and wake herself up, but she knew the kettle would make too much noise. She just settled for two slices of rather brown toast smeared in butter with a small cup of milk, sitting at the kitchen table and crunching away nervously. By the time she finished eating it was a quarter past seven. Christine sighed. Time went by so slowly in the morning. She brought out her fat, rather tattered notebook from her bag and started to doodle absent-mindedly.
She drew a half-human, half-frog, a crazy highlighter purple color with wild hypnotising eyes and large chunky teeth that couldn't be shut up in its mouth. She drew beams of black and white rainbow shooting out in the background and a small cactus-shaped stereo that blasted out large inflatable notes. She started drawing her cartoon people, breakdancing grandparents and ghetto elves. She drew all those things people loved, ice cream, skateboards, CDs, chocolate, shapes, flags of different countries, then colored them whacky colours. She drew pictures of the Harry torturers, the brush basher, the nose tweeker, the face slapper 500. She drew Miranda Fairwell being swallowed by a giant flesh-eating pancake with a dog collar on saying "Bert." She drew every single one of those snobby dramaqueens that worshipped at Miranda's feet meeting their fate in the most wildest ways possible. Sketch! Tiana Green's long blonde hair fell off and left her sobbing and clutching her bald green head. Sketch! Amanda-Jade's stuck-up nose inflated and carried her off into the sky screaming like a hot air balloon. Sketch! She worked wonders with her pencil, sketching every line carefully, her hand shaking but she still drew magnificently. Her head was bursting with creative ideas. It all spilt out onto the page. Before....Before....
She stopped suddenly, her eyes slowly looking to the clock on the wall. It was twenty past eight! She took a large bite out of her piece of toast before running along the hallway, swinging her bag up to hang over one shoulder. Harry gave a loud snort and awoke with a start, carefully placing the bottle on the ground and rubbing his reddened eyes. He turned his head around to look at Christine with slight irritation. She held her breath, but he just looked whoozy and half-asleep instead of mad.
"Where'r you off to, then?" He half-mumbled, half-slurred.
"School." Christine answered simply, fiddling with her keys. She stuffed five pounds into her pocket and opened the door. Harry opened his mouth to say something else but Christine slammed the door fast.
It was early in the morning. Around six O'clock. Her mum wasn't back yet. That wasn't a surprise, really. Her mum was never back first thing in the morning after a night out. She could hear her stepdad snoring downstairs and scowled to herself. Harry would have one huge temper when he woke up.
Sighing, Christine got to her feet and picked her way downstairs. The hallway had stacks of cardboard boxes piled up and cluttering up the floor. Her mum and she had moved in with Harry eight months ago, but they still hadn't managed to unpack. Every time they tried to get everything unpacked something popped up. Christine had to edge past everything carefully -to avoid a cardboard box avalanche.
Christine crept down the creaking stairs carefully and padded into the kitchen. She heard the pipes gurgle as the heating turned itself on. She glanced at the clock, twenty-five past six. Its light ticking echoed around the kitchen. She poked her head around the door, looking into the living room. Harry was lying on his stomach, his face resting on the side of the pillow, drooling and snoring loudly. His arm flopped over the side and his hand clutched a half-drunk bottle of clear alcohol. Christine rolled her eyes. It was tempting to draw on his face, but if he woke up she knew she would be dead meat. He was always cranky when you woke him up too early.
She wanted to make some tea to try and wake herself up, but she knew the kettle would make too much noise. She just settled for two slices of rather brown toast smeared in butter with a small cup of milk, sitting at the kitchen table and crunching away nervously. By the time she finished eating it was a quarter past seven. Christine sighed. Time went by so slowly in the morning. She brought out her fat, rather tattered notebook from her bag and started to doodle absent-mindedly.
She drew a half-human, half-frog, a crazy highlighter purple color with wild hypnotising eyes and large chunky teeth that couldn't be shut up in its mouth. She drew beams of black and white rainbow shooting out in the background and a small cactus-shaped stereo that blasted out large inflatable notes. She started drawing her cartoon people, breakdancing grandparents and ghetto elves. She drew all those things people loved, ice cream, skateboards, CDs, chocolate, shapes, flags of different countries, then colored them whacky colours. She drew pictures of the Harry torturers, the brush basher, the nose tweeker, the face slapper 500. She drew Miranda Fairwell being swallowed by a giant flesh-eating pancake with a dog collar on saying "Bert." She drew every single one of those snobby dramaqueens that worshipped at Miranda's feet meeting their fate in the most wildest ways possible. Sketch! Tiana Green's long blonde hair fell off and left her sobbing and clutching her bald green head. Sketch! Amanda-Jade's stuck-up nose inflated and carried her off into the sky screaming like a hot air balloon. Sketch! She worked wonders with her pencil, sketching every line carefully, her hand shaking but she still drew magnificently. Her head was bursting with creative ideas. It all spilt out onto the page. Before....Before....
She stopped suddenly, her eyes slowly looking to the clock on the wall. It was twenty past eight! She took a large bite out of her piece of toast before running along the hallway, swinging her bag up to hang over one shoulder. Harry gave a loud snort and awoke with a start, carefully placing the bottle on the ground and rubbing his reddened eyes. He turned his head around to look at Christine with slight irritation. She held her breath, but he just looked whoozy and half-asleep instead of mad.
"Where'r you off to, then?" He half-mumbled, half-slurred.
"School." Christine answered simply, fiddling with her keys. She stuffed five pounds into her pocket and opened the door. Harry opened his mouth to say something else but Christine slammed the door fast.
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this application template was made by LADY AND THE TRAMP !? of CAUTION 2.O
do not steal this template, or remove the credit, whatsoever.
also, out of respect, do not change ANYTHING at all.
lyrics credited to tegan and sara.
do not steal this template, or remove the credit, whatsoever.
also, out of respect, do not change ANYTHING at all.
lyrics credited to tegan and sara.
