Post by K.I.W.I// on Nov 23, 2008 22:37:39 GMT -5
] out of character[/font]
Your Name: Kiwi, or you may call me Miranda if thats your cup of tea. c:
How Long Have You Been RPing?: Oh, about four years.
.in character
.basic info
Name: London James Hart
Nickname: Lon-Lon, Sweet-Hart, cute crap like that.
Age: 16
Birthday: December 15, 1992
Year: 2nd
Nationality: English
Sexuality: He's as straight as a rainbow.[/size]
.appearance
Hair Color: A pleasurable mixture of chocolate browns, honey blonds and bits of black.
Eye Color: Deep chestnut.
Height: 5'6
Clothes Style: London prefers a stylish, vintage attire that compliments his body and offers a sense of class. He mostly dresses himself in a cool colors, such as purple, blue, gray, etc. Retro things tend to catch his eye as well. A normal outfit of London's might consist of slim fitting dark washed jeans, a form fitting vintage shirt and his ever so loved black pea coat. When he's confined to his school uniform, London likes to keep things neat and in order; tight tie, his school jacket buttoned up and smoothed of any blemishes or wrinkles.
Basic Appearance: London is a petite little thing, his body appearing to be small and fragile; he's much stronger then he seems to be, despite the fact he lacks some muscle. His small size is due to the fact he was born prematurely, by seven weeks to be exact. His skin is pale and smooth, resembling carefully crafted porcelain while his eyes are a deep, mesmerizing chestnut that contrasts well with his hair, which he styles is a messy, yet attractive fashion. His body is slender and faintly curved, which he takes pride in, while he has a handsome jawline, his lips and a delicate rose pink, full and plump. Many have told London that he looks 'delicate', which bothers him slightly, for he doesn't like looking weak. Overall, he's pretty darn cute.
.attitude
Talents: Although it's more of a passion then a talent, London is exceptionally skilled at making wood and stone carvings or figures, as well as sculpting things out of clay.
Likes:
>Rainy days
>Birds
>Flowers
>Passion
>Swimming
>Smoking
>Alcohol
>Cats
>Sex
>Sour candy
>Friendship
>Chocolate
>Fruit
>Music
>Sleeping
>Guys
>Laughing
>Singing
>Playing the guitar
Dislikes:
<Assholes
<People who take advantage of him
<People who think their better then everyone else
<Dogs
<Horror movies
<Cheese
<Coffee
<The dark
<Snow
<Spiders
<Country music
<Nightmares
<Being alone
<Meat
<Lies
Fears:
&Being judged
&Having his heart broken
&Pain
&Horses
&Being unwanted, or betrayed
Strengths:
&Loyal
&Stands up for what he believes in
&Charmer
&Protects those he cares about
Weaknesses:
*Tends not to trust people
*Hot temper
*Often gives into pressure
Dreams: London hopes one day his skills in sculpture will make him a famous artist one day, and people will praise his work across the globe. Then again, he might just be in over his head.
Personality: London is one of those people who are quiet and reserved, and hard to get to know, since he holds back his thoughts and opinions, only expressing them to those he is close too. He is interested in contributing to other people's well being and happiness, often putting other's before himself in many situations.
London also has a strong affinity for aesthetics and beauty. He loves animals, and would keep a large collection of them in his dorm if it was allowed; he also has a true appreciation for the beauties of nature. He's original and independent, and yet needs quite a lot of personal space. London fully supports having positive life goals by acheving them in one's own way; people who don't know him might mistake his unique lifestyle as care-free light-heartedness, but he actually takes life very seriously, constantly gathering specific information and shifting it through his value systems, in search for clarification and underlying meaning.
London also can be warm and sympathetic. He genuinely cares about people, and is strongly service-oriented in his desire to please. London has an unusually deep well of caring for those who are close to him, and he's likely to show his love through actions, rather than words.
This boy has no desire to lead or control others, just as he has no desire to be led or controlled by others. He needs space and time alone to evaluate the circumstances of his life against his value system, and is likely to respect other people's needs for the same.
London often does not give himself enough credit for the things which he does extremely well. His strong value systems can lead him to be a intense perfectionist, and cause him to judge himself with unnecessary harshness.
When the stress and frustration begin to pound into London's well-being, he tends to become an irritable, snappy, sarcastic 'jerk' who isn't afraid to give someone a black eye, even if he regrets it afterwards.
.ze past
Family Members:
Mother; Lucy Ellen Hart/45/ Nurse
Father; James Dean Hart/46/ Surgeon
Little Brother; Dominic Ryan Hart/13/Student
Older Sister; Abigail Paige Hart/ 21/ College Student
Hometown: London, England [hence his name]
History: I grew up in the lovely city of London, hence my name. My family and I lived in a two-story house that was always neat and tidy, thanks to my cleaning obsessed mother. In truth, I did and still now have a very weak relationship with my parents, considering they were always working late at the hospital, and they left so early in the morning I hardly ever saw them. My sister, Abigail practically raised my brother and I, which makes me angry; it makes me feel like my parents didn't have any time to spend with their children.
My parents were never very affection it; I was lucky if I got a hug or peck on the cheek, which only ever happened really on my birthdays, which is part of the reason I find it slightly strange when people hug me or dish out compliments. When I was twelve, we packed up and moved to the states, which I'm still trying to get used to.
In the last three years, I've gotten into some pretty nasty habits, which my parents of course, are oblivious too. They practically live at work. Jerks. Anyway, I like to drink, smoke, sleep with people, the whole sha-bang. Yes I'm a naughty child, get over it.
My life as been so normal, and yet abnormal it's almost painful. Whenever I see adults cuddling their children or hugging them and the such, it makes me want to shoot myself in the foot! It infuriates me that my parents don't seem to care about me at all. Oh well; I could care less about them, why? Their a couple of a stupid, self centered assholes. And I hate assholes.
.other
Anything Else: London has a charming English accent and loves anything sour.
.roleplaying
Please provide a roleplaying sample:
My heart felt heavy, yet weak; too intoxicated with an unknown chemical of disappointment, stretched thin from years of unhealthy habits. Small specks of ivory cascaded down from the dull sky in a mesmerizing dance of swirls and twists, before landing soundlessly on the ground. I had never liked snow; it was cold and wet, a frustrating chill seeping into your skin like a deadly poison, before leeching its way into your bones.
I sat at my window in a silent vigil, gazing at the various people who passed in their cars, and the less fortunate ones who walked in the winter weather. Hesitantly, I leaned forward, letting my cheek rest against the window, the frost covered glass drinking the warmth from my face. A shiver ran down my spine as I pulled away slightly, breathing on the pane to create a small cloud of fog. With delicate fingers, I traced a flower, watching as it slowly faded away into nothing.
Hearing the front door slam shut, I flinched, knowing my parents were home. But for how long? Certainly not long enough to pay a small visit to their son, who sat limply on the window seat in his dimly lit room. Anger flared in me like fire, filling my veins with a hate filled venom that made my hands clench into menacing fists. Without warning, my tightened hand slammed against the chilly window, causing the glass to give a harsh shutter, moaning against the pressure.
I helplessly let my hand slid down the window to land lifelessly in my lap; I hated it here. Murmuring to myself, I rubbed my temples, rising from the window seat and floating across my room over to a cluttered oak desk that held my cigarettes. Slipping the cancer stick into my mouth, I lit it quickly with a lighter, taking a long draw, before exhaling in faint pleasure. Shoving the stick back in my mouth, I shuffled through the papers and trinkets that covered my desk's surface, stumbling upon a small wooden figure. Pulling the burning cigarette from my lips, I examined the small piece of art with fond eyes; it was shaped in the form of a sparrow, its wings and feathers carefully crafted into the smooth wooden surface, while the eyes resembled two black pearls.
A crooked grin grew on my lips, as I gently set the figure on my window sill while I sat down, resuming my smoking.
I hope winter ends soon.
[[ Alright, there! D; Please excuse the crappiness of it all, my brain is a bit dead at the moment. Hopefully it will suffice. ]]
Your Name: Kiwi, or you may call me Miranda if thats your cup of tea. c:
How Long Have You Been RPing?: Oh, about four years.
.in character
.basic info
Name: London James Hart
Nickname: Lon-Lon, Sweet-Hart, cute crap like that.
Age: 16
Birthday: December 15, 1992
Year: 2nd
Nationality: English
Sexuality: He's as straight as a rainbow.[/size]
.appearance
Hair Color: A pleasurable mixture of chocolate browns, honey blonds and bits of black.
Eye Color: Deep chestnut.
Height: 5'6
Clothes Style: London prefers a stylish, vintage attire that compliments his body and offers a sense of class. He mostly dresses himself in a cool colors, such as purple, blue, gray, etc. Retro things tend to catch his eye as well. A normal outfit of London's might consist of slim fitting dark washed jeans, a form fitting vintage shirt and his ever so loved black pea coat. When he's confined to his school uniform, London likes to keep things neat and in order; tight tie, his school jacket buttoned up and smoothed of any blemishes or wrinkles.
Basic Appearance: London is a petite little thing, his body appearing to be small and fragile; he's much stronger then he seems to be, despite the fact he lacks some muscle. His small size is due to the fact he was born prematurely, by seven weeks to be exact. His skin is pale and smooth, resembling carefully crafted porcelain while his eyes are a deep, mesmerizing chestnut that contrasts well with his hair, which he styles is a messy, yet attractive fashion. His body is slender and faintly curved, which he takes pride in, while he has a handsome jawline, his lips and a delicate rose pink, full and plump. Many have told London that he looks 'delicate', which bothers him slightly, for he doesn't like looking weak. Overall, he's pretty darn cute.
.attitude
Talents: Although it's more of a passion then a talent, London is exceptionally skilled at making wood and stone carvings or figures, as well as sculpting things out of clay.
Likes:
>Rainy days
>Birds
>Flowers
>Passion
>Swimming
>Smoking
>Alcohol
>Cats
>Sex
>Sour candy
>Friendship
>Chocolate
>Fruit
>Music
>Sleeping
>Guys
>Laughing
>Singing
>Playing the guitar
Dislikes:
<Assholes
<People who take advantage of him
<People who think their better then everyone else
<Dogs
<Horror movies
<Cheese
<Coffee
<The dark
<Snow
<Spiders
<Country music
<Nightmares
<Being alone
<Meat
<Lies
Fears:
&Being judged
&Having his heart broken
&Pain
&Horses
&Being unwanted, or betrayed
Strengths:
&Loyal
&Stands up for what he believes in
&Charmer
&Protects those he cares about
Weaknesses:
*Tends not to trust people
*Hot temper
*Often gives into pressure
Dreams: London hopes one day his skills in sculpture will make him a famous artist one day, and people will praise his work across the globe. Then again, he might just be in over his head.
Personality: London is one of those people who are quiet and reserved, and hard to get to know, since he holds back his thoughts and opinions, only expressing them to those he is close too. He is interested in contributing to other people's well being and happiness, often putting other's before himself in many situations.
London also has a strong affinity for aesthetics and beauty. He loves animals, and would keep a large collection of them in his dorm if it was allowed; he also has a true appreciation for the beauties of nature. He's original and independent, and yet needs quite a lot of personal space. London fully supports having positive life goals by acheving them in one's own way; people who don't know him might mistake his unique lifestyle as care-free light-heartedness, but he actually takes life very seriously, constantly gathering specific information and shifting it through his value systems, in search for clarification and underlying meaning.
London also can be warm and sympathetic. He genuinely cares about people, and is strongly service-oriented in his desire to please. London has an unusually deep well of caring for those who are close to him, and he's likely to show his love through actions, rather than words.
This boy has no desire to lead or control others, just as he has no desire to be led or controlled by others. He needs space and time alone to evaluate the circumstances of his life against his value system, and is likely to respect other people's needs for the same.
London often does not give himself enough credit for the things which he does extremely well. His strong value systems can lead him to be a intense perfectionist, and cause him to judge himself with unnecessary harshness.
When the stress and frustration begin to pound into London's well-being, he tends to become an irritable, snappy, sarcastic 'jerk' who isn't afraid to give someone a black eye, even if he regrets it afterwards.
.ze past
Family Members:
Mother; Lucy Ellen Hart/45/ Nurse
Father; James Dean Hart/46/ Surgeon
Little Brother; Dominic Ryan Hart/13/Student
Older Sister; Abigail Paige Hart/ 21/ College Student
Hometown: London, England [hence his name]
History: I grew up in the lovely city of London, hence my name. My family and I lived in a two-story house that was always neat and tidy, thanks to my cleaning obsessed mother. In truth, I did and still now have a very weak relationship with my parents, considering they were always working late at the hospital, and they left so early in the morning I hardly ever saw them. My sister, Abigail practically raised my brother and I, which makes me angry; it makes me feel like my parents didn't have any time to spend with their children.
My parents were never very affection it; I was lucky if I got a hug or peck on the cheek, which only ever happened really on my birthdays, which is part of the reason I find it slightly strange when people hug me or dish out compliments. When I was twelve, we packed up and moved to the states, which I'm still trying to get used to.
In the last three years, I've gotten into some pretty nasty habits, which my parents of course, are oblivious too. They practically live at work. Jerks. Anyway, I like to drink, smoke, sleep with people, the whole sha-bang. Yes I'm a naughty child, get over it.
My life as been so normal, and yet abnormal it's almost painful. Whenever I see adults cuddling their children or hugging them and the such, it makes me want to shoot myself in the foot! It infuriates me that my parents don't seem to care about me at all. Oh well; I could care less about them, why? Their a couple of a stupid, self centered assholes. And I hate assholes.
.other
Anything Else: London has a charming English accent and loves anything sour.
.roleplaying
Please provide a roleplaying sample:
My heart felt heavy, yet weak; too intoxicated with an unknown chemical of disappointment, stretched thin from years of unhealthy habits. Small specks of ivory cascaded down from the dull sky in a mesmerizing dance of swirls and twists, before landing soundlessly on the ground. I had never liked snow; it was cold and wet, a frustrating chill seeping into your skin like a deadly poison, before leeching its way into your bones.
I sat at my window in a silent vigil, gazing at the various people who passed in their cars, and the less fortunate ones who walked in the winter weather. Hesitantly, I leaned forward, letting my cheek rest against the window, the frost covered glass drinking the warmth from my face. A shiver ran down my spine as I pulled away slightly, breathing on the pane to create a small cloud of fog. With delicate fingers, I traced a flower, watching as it slowly faded away into nothing.
Hearing the front door slam shut, I flinched, knowing my parents were home. But for how long? Certainly not long enough to pay a small visit to their son, who sat limply on the window seat in his dimly lit room. Anger flared in me like fire, filling my veins with a hate filled venom that made my hands clench into menacing fists. Without warning, my tightened hand slammed against the chilly window, causing the glass to give a harsh shutter, moaning against the pressure.
I helplessly let my hand slid down the window to land lifelessly in my lap; I hated it here. Murmuring to myself, I rubbed my temples, rising from the window seat and floating across my room over to a cluttered oak desk that held my cigarettes. Slipping the cancer stick into my mouth, I lit it quickly with a lighter, taking a long draw, before exhaling in faint pleasure. Shoving the stick back in my mouth, I shuffled through the papers and trinkets that covered my desk's surface, stumbling upon a small wooden figure. Pulling the burning cigarette from my lips, I examined the small piece of art with fond eyes; it was shaped in the form of a sparrow, its wings and feathers carefully crafted into the smooth wooden surface, while the eyes resembled two black pearls.
A crooked grin grew on my lips, as I gently set the figure on my window sill while I sat down, resuming my smoking.
I hope winter ends soon.
[[ Alright, there! D; Please excuse the crappiness of it all, my brain is a bit dead at the moment. Hopefully it will suffice. ]]
