Post by discofpanic on Dec 19, 2010 5:17:53 GMT -5
CONCORDGARCIAMONTGOMERY !
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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: Con, Connie, Coney, Cordie, Collie, or either middle/last name
age: Ninteen
gender: Male
grade: Senior
sexuality: Gay
played by: Gael Bernal[/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: He is a very calm and down to Earth guy. He can hang and conform to any type of personality and gets along with anyone who isn't racist or judgemental. Very easy to get along with. He loves art since he is an artist. He has such a passion for art he refuses to do any other line of work, no matter how broke he becomes. He sees everything as art. Most would consider him a 'starving artist', his father would consider him 'a helpless, famine rid artist from the bad side of Indonesia'. This is why he doesn't get along with his father. He is can sometimes be easily offended and sensitive. Even with his cool attitude, he can occasionally loose control. This rarely happens as he is a very controlled person. Even though he comes off as calm and maybe lazy, he is a very hyperactive and adventurous boy. He loves to do everything and go everywhere. He rarely says no, and is very much a YES MAN. He always has his general art supplies with him which he carries in a sort of saddle bag around his waist. The saddle bag came from his actual saddle. Because his second love is horses. He had them since he was a child, it was a Mexican tradition to capture wild caballos, breed them and raise them, then break and train them. He owns two now and trains horses for small money aside from making art. He loves to be apart of things, but he also loves to be alone inside his own head. He is collected and centered and even at a young age knows what he wants to do with his life. He is very forgetful and can be distant sometimes, but those may be his only serious flaws in his own eyes.
likes:
Art
Film
Photography
Friendly people
Inspiration
Connecting with others
Learning
Exploring
Adventuring
Helping
Healing
Feng Shui
Decorating
Lust
Love
Hope
Horses
Friends that are like family
Culture
Hardship
Being poor
Optimists
America
Mexico
History
Men
Women
The sky
Horses
Peace
His mother
Modernization
Vintage
Everything inbetween
dislikes:
Being forgetful
Sterotypes
Conformity
People who aren't themselves
Hate
Belief pushers
Criminals
Sexists
Racists
Discrimination
Cults
Downers
Thiefs
Gangs
strengths:
His art
His friends
His faith
Love
Balance
Control
Family
Beliefs
Open mindedness
His family and horses
weaknesses:
Offended easily
Self judgemental
Takes a lot to make himself proud
Prays for the pride of others
Needs praise
Acts more like a dog then human
His heart
[/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: Ramos Billings Montgomery
siblings: Paris-Marie Garcia Montgomery
significant other (s): None
pets: Two horses, a Pinto mare named Vanilla and a Standardbred stallion named Benny Boy. One Basset Hound female named Clover.
hometown: Guadalajara, Mexico
[/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: Private message I guess
RP sample:
There was no light save that of the stars and practice had made Vittoria silent as the shadows. Thick white snow lay plastered over the cold stone of the ground and played canvas for the withered leaves that festered beneath an old tree to her left. To any other, perhaps the sight of the pristine white snow encasing the entire island in its icy embrace would have been beautiful. Vittoria had long since lost sense of such things as beauty however, and the sight did little more than evoke a shiver of cold down her spine. Such lack of emotion towards anything was almost unbelievable, but years of being trained to tear your very species limb from limb had a habit of damaging an equine’s mentality. What was more surprising was that she had no problem with being in such a mental state. The spark was always there, the arena had just doused it with the flames it needed to encompass her entire being and leave her as malicious and uncaring as she was now.
Slowly, her cold gaze scanned the large stone building in front of her and a slight feeling of curiosity sparked in the pit of her stomach. She had never been inside a building except for the tunnels that led to the arena, and they could hardly be described as buildings. She also wondered why anyone should choose to enter the place. It wasn’t particularly nice looking, in fact it was rather battered an old, and it held no real interest to it. There must have been something about the place that drew horses to it. Perhaps something as unusual and unknown as what had drawn her here herself. If she was honest, she had no idea what she was doing here; Vittoria despised being ruled by anyone but herself and would have thought she’d have been one of the mares without a home, not here hunting down herd members for the brute that ruled over her head. As it so happened, he was something of interest to her and perhaps he would realise her worth and allow her to climb her way through the ranks. She did so hope she would not have to kill this one as well, he was such a pretty little thing.
The silence of the night hung heavily in the air and Vittoria briefly wondered if anyone else was awake at this time of night. She was here to complete Scrae’s mission for the herd and drag some horses back home with her but whether or not she was going to be successful was another thing entirely. Moving away from the old stony building she currently stood beside, Vittoria wandered across the grass now littered with thick white snow. Another shiver racked her body as she glanced around for any sign of horses. She was loath to be here at all and the sooner she found someone to bring back to Scrae, the sooner she could get home and out of this god forsaken place. It seemed luck was on her side when her disinterested gaze fell upon a mare not some distance from herself. Almost gracefully, she made her way over to stand in front of the mare, allowing her eyes to travel over her frame and commit the image to memory. “I presume you are here because you find yourself without a home, which is good news because I find myself in need of herd members.” Vittoria attempted to put some enthusiasm into her speech, but failed miserably and her words came out as merely disinterested. “Kicking and screaming is optional of course, but it would be far less hassle if you came of your own accord.” Still the same disinterested tone encased her words. “My, where are my manners? My name is Vittoria.” And people said she was incapable of being polite.
Slowly, her cold gaze scanned the large stone building in front of her and a slight feeling of curiosity sparked in the pit of her stomach. She had never been inside a building except for the tunnels that led to the arena, and they could hardly be described as buildings. She also wondered why anyone should choose to enter the place. It wasn’t particularly nice looking, in fact it was rather battered an old, and it held no real interest to it. There must have been something about the place that drew horses to it. Perhaps something as unusual and unknown as what had drawn her here herself. If she was honest, she had no idea what she was doing here; Vittoria despised being ruled by anyone but herself and would have thought she’d have been one of the mares without a home, not here hunting down herd members for the brute that ruled over her head. As it so happened, he was something of interest to her and perhaps he would realise her worth and allow her to climb her way through the ranks. She did so hope she would not have to kill this one as well, he was such a pretty little thing.
The silence of the night hung heavily in the air and Vittoria briefly wondered if anyone else was awake at this time of night. She was here to complete Scrae’s mission for the herd and drag some horses back home with her but whether or not she was going to be successful was another thing entirely. Moving away from the old stony building she currently stood beside, Vittoria wandered across the grass now littered with thick white snow. Another shiver racked her body as she glanced around for any sign of horses. She was loath to be here at all and the sooner she found someone to bring back to Scrae, the sooner she could get home and out of this god forsaken place. It seemed luck was on her side when her disinterested gaze fell upon a mare not some distance from herself. Almost gracefully, she made her way over to stand in front of the mare, allowing her eyes to travel over her frame and commit the image to memory. “I presume you are here because you find yourself without a home, which is good news because I find myself in need of herd members.” Vittoria attempted to put some enthusiasm into her speech, but failed miserably and her words came out as merely disinterested. “Kicking and screaming is optional of course, but it would be far less hassle if you came of your own accord.” Still the same disinterested tone encased her words. “My, where are my manners? My name is Vittoria.” And people said she was incapable of being polite.
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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.
