Post by taventh on Mar 18, 2006 23:52:04 GMT -5
Character's Name; Brash Vaydoin
Name you want to be called; Tav and/or Ty
Character’s Nickname(s); Brash [has no other nicknames]
Race; Lycan
Grade; Senior
Age; 18
Birthday; October 18, 1987
History; Well where do we start with this fine character. Brash was born by his mom and raised by his nanny. His father had come into a large amount of wealth in his early years. However Brash has never met him. Soon after his mother gave birth too him his father disappeared, no one has seen him since that day. The only truth Brash knows about him is the fact he was a Lycan.
Brash's mother too is a Lycan and a very important one at that, her side of the family was there when the original town of Cold Creek was created. Her blood line is the few of many lines that can still be traced back to those days.
But Brash could really give less than a rat's ass. His mother is never around and tries to make up for it by giving him everything he's ever asked for. But unlike most things he just throws away he has stuck with his precious Raidance, the guitar he has had since his child hood, the one thing that has been with him through it all. Now this guitar is his life.
Brash has a tendency to write amazing music but only have it pile up in a trash can because he is too lazy to do anything with it, [maybe that will change.]
Important Relationships; He has no close family, he won't admit it but he really does miss having his mom around. Other than his guitar that he believes to have humanly qualities his relations with others are very small. But he has come to find new friends in the band he has recently joined. He has been known to bump heads with Cain from time to time but that comes natural.
Mannerisms; Fiddles with a toothpick from time to time. He always has a calm nature and it gets on a lot of people's nerves. Has a bad habbit of always saying what you don't want to hear.
Fears/Dislikes; Fears small places, Dislikes typical jock. Hates followers and groupies.
Likes; Anything black, Raidance (his guitar), girls (if he's in the mood), and above all else himslef.
Hobbies; Writing music, playing guitar, and reading (heh, lets just say he doesn't get the magazines to read)
Music; System of a Down, Black Sabbath, Nirvana, the Beatles, Nickleback, AC/DC, and Cold Play.
Appearance; Brash has full wide brown eyes. His skin is pale and his hair is short brown. His usual style consits of a lot of hair gel and shaking his head tell a look comes up that he likes. He is always dressed with the finest clothes [normally in black] and wears the same pair of sleak black boots with every outfit. You could say he's well cut, always shaved, of course you have some one that looks the way he does when he is full of himself. He has a slight muscular build but is not noticable unless he stripes for you. [that won't be happening unless you go first]
Personality; Blow him up because this bomb is loaded with 'Personality'. Brash has never been constricted to one thing in his life. Even at school it is always the way he wants it or no way. He flirts with the ladies only... all the time. . Brash is always the start of a fight but never gets himself involved.
Brash is a follower, he gives orders from behind always letting someone else take the blame. He is hard headed and knows it. Give him something to do and he'll blow it off or get it done right away. It really depends on his mood. Lets just say one word: 'Moody'
Ask his mother what she thinks of her darling little boy and she'll spoil your heart rotten with every happy detail she can brag about. Brash simply laughs and blows it off, but one day it will catch up with him and someone will ask him for something he can't give and his money won't pay for it.
Sample RP intro;
It was another typical morning with the same typical routine that followed any rich kid living in an ordinary town.
The sun danced through his three large body size windows and played shadow puppets across his face. Groaning a young man, well thats what he thought of himself, thrusted the covers off his body. He yawned and stretched still feeling light headed.
The eighteen year old looked at his alarm clock. He reached out his arm and pressed the off switch just as the buzz rang through his room. The boy was always up earlier than he needed to be, but he was use to it, he was use to everything. Life was a mixture of boring grays and black and he was stuck in the middle.
Fumbling his way across the clean white carpeting to his large tile bathroom he found the mirror. It was not a full inspired morning until Brash Vaydoin saw his sweet baby face in the mirror. He laughed and thingyed his head to the side. "Atleast this face never gets old."
After a period of 'oo's' and 'aw's' looking into the mirror he managed to find the shower railing and the nozzle. He bent over and removes his sleeping attire and entered. He turned the 'hot' nozzle and soaked himself in a nice relaxing shower. He remained drenched under the facuet until the water lost its warmth. He reached down again and turned the water off.
Brash pulled himself back to the mirror now with a white towel around his waist. He stood staring into his own eyes long enough to bore anyone else to death. "I'm hot..." He said with another grin. He reached for his gel and tightened his grip until there was a useful amount to shape his hair. Smearing together the glob in both hands he continued to fix his gaze into the mirror. Brash rubbed his hands through his hair until all of it was off. Then in three shakes of his head he looked back into the mirror and was satisfied with it.
He turned to look into another full body size mirror. He placed his hands on his waist and looked at his body shape. "Eh..." It was decent. He was built but it was average, nothing great and nothing small, but this was the way he liked it.
Dragging himself from his mirror he waltzed to the closet. Everything inside was neatly arranged by color, size, type, and even cost. This was a bonus to never having your mom around and being waited on hand and foot by a loving nanny. He closed his eyes and picked a shirt. Pulling it off the hanger he looked at it and shrugged. He pulled it over his head being careful not to touch his hair. (his routine wasn't very well planned out.) Looking down after he put it on he decided it needed something else. He reached for another garment and found a brown jacket. This met his desire so he put it on. "Now pants." He thumbed through his clothes like pages in a book and found a pair a baggy brown pants with a belt already with them. He finished everything and returned to the mirror.
Looking at what he had thrown together he was satisifed again. His hair was good, it matched the brown pants and jacket and contrasted perfectly with the black shirt that read: "Ready or Not, Too Bad," and had a picture of a skull and bones behind it.
His nanny, the loveable petite woman who always kissed Brash's feet hoping to make his mother happy was waiting for him at the bottom of the steps.
Brash flung his jacket over his shoulder as he walked down the steps. He took the lunch 'nanny' had provided for him and grabbed his helmet beside the door. He walked down the drive way and made his way to his 97' red CrochRocket. (motorcycle). He was off to a place he was forced upon whether he had a choice or not.
But he was liked... But that doesn't mean he likes them back...
Celebrity Playby;
This is mereily a reference picture of Chris Klein my character looks fimilar to him in this picture.
Name you want to be called; Tav and/or Ty
Character’s Nickname(s); Brash [has no other nicknames]
Race; Lycan
Grade; Senior
Age; 18
Birthday; October 18, 1987
History; Well where do we start with this fine character. Brash was born by his mom and raised by his nanny. His father had come into a large amount of wealth in his early years. However Brash has never met him. Soon after his mother gave birth too him his father disappeared, no one has seen him since that day. The only truth Brash knows about him is the fact he was a Lycan.
Brash's mother too is a Lycan and a very important one at that, her side of the family was there when the original town of Cold Creek was created. Her blood line is the few of many lines that can still be traced back to those days.
But Brash could really give less than a rat's ass. His mother is never around and tries to make up for it by giving him everything he's ever asked for. But unlike most things he just throws away he has stuck with his precious Raidance, the guitar he has had since his child hood, the one thing that has been with him through it all. Now this guitar is his life.
Brash has a tendency to write amazing music but only have it pile up in a trash can because he is too lazy to do anything with it, [maybe that will change.]
Important Relationships; He has no close family, he won't admit it but he really does miss having his mom around. Other than his guitar that he believes to have humanly qualities his relations with others are very small. But he has come to find new friends in the band he has recently joined. He has been known to bump heads with Cain from time to time but that comes natural.
Mannerisms; Fiddles with a toothpick from time to time. He always has a calm nature and it gets on a lot of people's nerves. Has a bad habbit of always saying what you don't want to hear.
Fears/Dislikes; Fears small places, Dislikes typical jock. Hates followers and groupies.
Likes; Anything black, Raidance (his guitar), girls (if he's in the mood), and above all else himslef.
Hobbies; Writing music, playing guitar, and reading (heh, lets just say he doesn't get the magazines to read)
Music; System of a Down, Black Sabbath, Nirvana, the Beatles, Nickleback, AC/DC, and Cold Play.
Appearance; Brash has full wide brown eyes. His skin is pale and his hair is short brown. His usual style consits of a lot of hair gel and shaking his head tell a look comes up that he likes. He is always dressed with the finest clothes [normally in black] and wears the same pair of sleak black boots with every outfit. You could say he's well cut, always shaved, of course you have some one that looks the way he does when he is full of himself. He has a slight muscular build but is not noticable unless he stripes for you. [that won't be happening unless you go first]
Personality; Blow him up because this bomb is loaded with 'Personality'. Brash has never been constricted to one thing in his life. Even at school it is always the way he wants it or no way. He flirts with the ladies only... all the time. . Brash is always the start of a fight but never gets himself involved.
Brash is a follower, he gives orders from behind always letting someone else take the blame. He is hard headed and knows it. Give him something to do and he'll blow it off or get it done right away. It really depends on his mood. Lets just say one word: 'Moody'
Ask his mother what she thinks of her darling little boy and she'll spoil your heart rotten with every happy detail she can brag about. Brash simply laughs and blows it off, but one day it will catch up with him and someone will ask him for something he can't give and his money won't pay for it.
Sample RP intro;
It was another typical morning with the same typical routine that followed any rich kid living in an ordinary town.
The sun danced through his three large body size windows and played shadow puppets across his face. Groaning a young man, well thats what he thought of himself, thrusted the covers off his body. He yawned and stretched still feeling light headed.
The eighteen year old looked at his alarm clock. He reached out his arm and pressed the off switch just as the buzz rang through his room. The boy was always up earlier than he needed to be, but he was use to it, he was use to everything. Life was a mixture of boring grays and black and he was stuck in the middle.
Fumbling his way across the clean white carpeting to his large tile bathroom he found the mirror. It was not a full inspired morning until Brash Vaydoin saw his sweet baby face in the mirror. He laughed and thingyed his head to the side. "Atleast this face never gets old."
After a period of 'oo's' and 'aw's' looking into the mirror he managed to find the shower railing and the nozzle. He bent over and removes his sleeping attire and entered. He turned the 'hot' nozzle and soaked himself in a nice relaxing shower. He remained drenched under the facuet until the water lost its warmth. He reached down again and turned the water off.
Brash pulled himself back to the mirror now with a white towel around his waist. He stood staring into his own eyes long enough to bore anyone else to death. "I'm hot..." He said with another grin. He reached for his gel and tightened his grip until there was a useful amount to shape his hair. Smearing together the glob in both hands he continued to fix his gaze into the mirror. Brash rubbed his hands through his hair until all of it was off. Then in three shakes of his head he looked back into the mirror and was satisfied with it.
He turned to look into another full body size mirror. He placed his hands on his waist and looked at his body shape. "Eh..." It was decent. He was built but it was average, nothing great and nothing small, but this was the way he liked it.
Dragging himself from his mirror he waltzed to the closet. Everything inside was neatly arranged by color, size, type, and even cost. This was a bonus to never having your mom around and being waited on hand and foot by a loving nanny. He closed his eyes and picked a shirt. Pulling it off the hanger he looked at it and shrugged. He pulled it over his head being careful not to touch his hair. (his routine wasn't very well planned out.) Looking down after he put it on he decided it needed something else. He reached for another garment and found a brown jacket. This met his desire so he put it on. "Now pants." He thumbed through his clothes like pages in a book and found a pair a baggy brown pants with a belt already with them. He finished everything and returned to the mirror.
Looking at what he had thrown together he was satisifed again. His hair was good, it matched the brown pants and jacket and contrasted perfectly with the black shirt that read: "Ready or Not, Too Bad," and had a picture of a skull and bones behind it.
His nanny, the loveable petite woman who always kissed Brash's feet hoping to make his mother happy was waiting for him at the bottom of the steps.
Brash flung his jacket over his shoulder as he walked down the steps. He took the lunch 'nanny' had provided for him and grabbed his helmet beside the door. He walked down the drive way and made his way to his 97' red CrochRocket. (motorcycle). He was off to a place he was forced upon whether he had a choice or not.
But he was liked... But that doesn't mean he likes them back...
Celebrity Playby;
This is mereily a reference picture of Chris Klein my character looks fimilar to him in this picture.
