Post by chippy on Dec 21, 2008 19:27:29 GMT -5
.out of character
Your Name: Chippy! Or, you know, Alex, but I prefer the former.
How Long Have You Been RPing?: Uh. Four, five years?
.in character
.basic info
Name: Ferris Oliver Kendall
Nickname: Ferry
Age: Seventeen
Birthday: May 23
Year: Third
Nationality: American[/size]
.appearance
Hair Color: Russet brown
Eye Color: Burnt pumpkin brown
Height: 5'5"
Clothes Style: Raver/Decora, mostly.
Basic Appearance:
.attitude
Talents: He can memorize useless facts effortlessly. Things that he might need in life (such as his SSN), that takes more work. But he's pretty good at things like Trivial Pursuit and Jeopardy! He also has memorized plenty of Disney songs.
Likes:
Dislikes:
Fears: Dying, Gigantic bugs, Excessive gore
Strengths: Outgoing, Friendly, Happy, Passive
Weaknesses: Slacker, Unintelligent, Indecisive, Impulsive
Dreams: Uh. He doesn't think far past, "HMM. I WONDER IF I CAN GET HER OUT OF THOSE PANTS."
Personality:
.ze past
Family Members: Two parents that are alive and very boring, two older brothers (twins) that he doesn't see much.
Hometown: Hoboken, NJ
History:
.other
Anything Else:Uh. Idk. D:[/font]
.roleplaying
Please provide a roleplaying sample:
Ferris frowned at the glowing LCD numbers on his phone, but it held no mercy for him. It was only ten thirty-seven at night, yet it felt like it should of at least been twelve. Since eight, he'd been lounging inside a McDonald's on the streets of Manhattan trying to entertain himself until it was lat enough to go out. He picked at his chicken nuggets, played with his free Happy Meal toy (it was a mini Barbie doll that lost his interest when he realized he couldn't lift her skirt) and played enough Diner Dash on his phone to last a millennium.
Still, the digital numbers didn't lie. While centuries seemed to pass around him, the world insisted that it was only the beginning of the night.
The problem was that Ferris wasn't high. He hadn't been for weeks. And while he was one of those lucky people who didn't go hardcore with their drugs and didn't suffer severe withdrawal, he did succumb to the boredom that came with not being under the influence of Ecstasy. No talking trees or pretty patterns on the ceiling for him. Just a sticky booth in McDonald's and the dirty streets of New York outside.
The thought of his grungy surrounds made him frown again, and Ferris pulled a small bottle of hand-sanitizer out of the pocket of his plaid pants, squirting some into his hands and rubbing it in as he hopped out of the booth and made his way outside.
It was mid-November, and a cold gust of air greeted him as he stepped into the streets. He definitely wasn't dressed for the approaching winter. While a pair of neon-purple-plaid pants and boots kept his lower half warm (and made him a few good inches taller), his arms were stark bare, and only a thin, bright green "i love bees" shirt kept his shivering torso away from the night air. It was a small price to pay for looking good. Besides, when the time for clubbing rolled around, bodies would be packed so closely together and exerting enough heat that it wouldn't matter.
Still, Ferris wasn't a boy for the cold, and as another gust of freezing air whipped at him, he quickly ducked into the closest building - some bar called Bahama Mamas - for shelter. It was dark inside, dimmed lights forcing him to squint for a few moments. A bar, a dance floor occupied by a couple of bumbling drunks, and a empty few tables in the corner - the place looked dead. A bit disappointing, but then, nothing fun ever happened this early at night.
Key chains hanging from his belt loops clinked as he lazily dance-walked over to the bar and hopped up on a stool, ignoring the suspicious looks he was getting from the gruff bartender (he looked like a kid and was dressed like a fool; what could he expect?) and rested his chin in his hand, his body deflating as he let out a big sigh.
"This sucks."
(LOL SOMEONE ELSE'S POST.)
Somehow, he spaced, because suddenly he was looking to his phone and seeing that it was eleven, eleven-twenty, eleven-thirty-five, and that people were starting to pour into the small bar. His first impression of the place was that it was cheap and sleazy, but apparently it was a popular enough place to warrant someone yanking him off his stool in an effort to get to the bar.
He spun around and blinked, dazed and confused for a moment. The casual drunks were gone and the dance floor was now occupied with serious dancers. The tables in the corner were also filled, he saw, and Ferris was taking that it was time to leave and set forth to someplace he was more familiar with.
That was until, of course, he set eyes on a lovely figure in the corner at one of the tables.
Fact: Ferris was a victim of the Asian Persuasion. Though he'd been with plenty of boys and girls through the years, there was always something about the oriental race that always appealed to him. Maybe it was that they never towered over his small 5'5" frame, or their soft, seemingly eternally youthful features, but whatever it was, the young woman in the corner was it. Suddenly, he wasn't so eager to leave.
He smiled to himself and pushed his way through the thickening crowd toward her. It was when he finally reached her table that he noticed she wasn't alone - there were some other women, but they weren't Asian, and clearly not as interesting or worthy of his attention. He merely grinned brightly as sat himself in a seat and looked right at her.
"I don't usually hang around here, so excuse me, but will you dance with me or am I supposed to buy you a drink first?"
And so on and so forth.
Nearly everything here is copypasta'd from his page, so I'm sorry if anything is unclear. I'll fix any mistakes you want me to.
[/font]
Your Name: Chippy! Or, you know, Alex, but I prefer the former.
How Long Have You Been RPing?: Uh. Four, five years?
.in character
.basic info
Name: Ferris Oliver Kendall
Nickname: Ferry
Age: Seventeen
Birthday: May 23
Year: Third
Nationality: American[/size]
.appearance
Hair Color: Russet brown
Eye Color: Burnt pumpkin brown
Height: 5'5"
Clothes Style: Raver/Decora, mostly.
Basic Appearance:
.attitude
Talents: He can memorize useless facts effortlessly. Things that he might need in life (such as his SSN), that takes more work. But he's pretty good at things like Trivial Pursuit and Jeopardy! He also has memorized plenty of Disney songs.
Likes:
- Bright/Neon colors
- Coloring Books
- Old-School Disney.
- Backstreet Boys & Britney Spears
- Acid tripping
- Raving
- Sleeping
Dislikes:
- Dirty hands
- Work in general
- Morning time
- Most academic classes
- Soups & Curry
- Emo/Scene kids (mostly)
Fears: Dying, Gigantic bugs, Excessive gore
Strengths: Outgoing, Friendly, Happy, Passive
Weaknesses: Slacker, Unintelligent, Indecisive, Impulsive
Dreams: Uh. He doesn't think far past, "HMM. I WONDER IF I CAN GET HER OUT OF THOSE PANTS."
Personality:
.ze past
Family Members: Two parents that are alive and very boring, two older brothers (twins) that he doesn't see much.
Hometown: Hoboken, NJ
History:
.other
Anything Else:Uh. Idk. D:[/font]
.roleplaying
Please provide a roleplaying sample:
Ferris frowned at the glowing LCD numbers on his phone, but it held no mercy for him. It was only ten thirty-seven at night, yet it felt like it should of at least been twelve. Since eight, he'd been lounging inside a McDonald's on the streets of Manhattan trying to entertain himself until it was lat enough to go out. He picked at his chicken nuggets, played with his free Happy Meal toy (it was a mini Barbie doll that lost his interest when he realized he couldn't lift her skirt) and played enough Diner Dash on his phone to last a millennium.
Still, the digital numbers didn't lie. While centuries seemed to pass around him, the world insisted that it was only the beginning of the night.
The problem was that Ferris wasn't high. He hadn't been for weeks. And while he was one of those lucky people who didn't go hardcore with their drugs and didn't suffer severe withdrawal, he did succumb to the boredom that came with not being under the influence of Ecstasy. No talking trees or pretty patterns on the ceiling for him. Just a sticky booth in McDonald's and the dirty streets of New York outside.
The thought of his grungy surrounds made him frown again, and Ferris pulled a small bottle of hand-sanitizer out of the pocket of his plaid pants, squirting some into his hands and rubbing it in as he hopped out of the booth and made his way outside.
It was mid-November, and a cold gust of air greeted him as he stepped into the streets. He definitely wasn't dressed for the approaching winter. While a pair of neon-purple-plaid pants and boots kept his lower half warm (and made him a few good inches taller), his arms were stark bare, and only a thin, bright green "i love bees" shirt kept his shivering torso away from the night air. It was a small price to pay for looking good. Besides, when the time for clubbing rolled around, bodies would be packed so closely together and exerting enough heat that it wouldn't matter.
Still, Ferris wasn't a boy for the cold, and as another gust of freezing air whipped at him, he quickly ducked into the closest building - some bar called Bahama Mamas - for shelter. It was dark inside, dimmed lights forcing him to squint for a few moments. A bar, a dance floor occupied by a couple of bumbling drunks, and a empty few tables in the corner - the place looked dead. A bit disappointing, but then, nothing fun ever happened this early at night.
Key chains hanging from his belt loops clinked as he lazily dance-walked over to the bar and hopped up on a stool, ignoring the suspicious looks he was getting from the gruff bartender (he looked like a kid and was dressed like a fool; what could he expect?) and rested his chin in his hand, his body deflating as he let out a big sigh.
"This sucks."
(LOL SOMEONE ELSE'S POST.)
Somehow, he spaced, because suddenly he was looking to his phone and seeing that it was eleven, eleven-twenty, eleven-thirty-five, and that people were starting to pour into the small bar. His first impression of the place was that it was cheap and sleazy, but apparently it was a popular enough place to warrant someone yanking him off his stool in an effort to get to the bar.
He spun around and blinked, dazed and confused for a moment. The casual drunks were gone and the dance floor was now occupied with serious dancers. The tables in the corner were also filled, he saw, and Ferris was taking that it was time to leave and set forth to someplace he was more familiar with.
That was until, of course, he set eyes on a lovely figure in the corner at one of the tables.
Fact: Ferris was a victim of the Asian Persuasion. Though he'd been with plenty of boys and girls through the years, there was always something about the oriental race that always appealed to him. Maybe it was that they never towered over his small 5'5" frame, or their soft, seemingly eternally youthful features, but whatever it was, the young woman in the corner was it. Suddenly, he wasn't so eager to leave.
He smiled to himself and pushed his way through the thickening crowd toward her. It was when he finally reached her table that he noticed she wasn't alone - there were some other women, but they weren't Asian, and clearly not as interesting or worthy of his attention. He merely grinned brightly as sat himself in a seat and looked right at her.
"I don't usually hang around here, so excuse me, but will you dance with me or am I supposed to buy you a drink first?"
And so on and so forth.
Nearly everything here is copypasta'd from his page, so I'm sorry if anything is unclear. I'll fix any mistakes you want me to.
[/font]
