Post by madstalin on Mar 18, 2008 13:21:51 GMT -5
Character's Name; Alex Denoda
Name you want to be called; just call me.. Bond. (seriously)
Character’s Nickname(s); Known as Thief, not because he steals.
Race; Werewolf
Grade; never went to school.
Age; 27-33. It varies to who he's talking to.
Birthday; May 18
History; Never knowing or caring about his past, this is what he's gathered up: He was raised by nuns when they found him lying outside some convent and no "return to sender" stamp on his forehead. He was always a trouble maker but never a bad kid. The nuns trained him to be a man of the lord, until he was taken up by several father figures consisting of pimps and priests. Living in the big city he got involved with the mob. His past is ridiculously riddled with unbelievable tales such as being arrested and being spitefully left in the desert by those angry policemen. He will always have a new story to tell. He would probably be on Jerry Springer a few times for DNA testing if he ever remembered what lady friend he had over on one of his teenage escapades. But those days are long gone. His heart was rented out to a girl named Raven years ago, but she stopped paying her dues and was evicted after she died. He stopped relying on alcohol to erase his memories when he realized it was erasing his whole life and soon dedicated himself to caring for troubled children. He never went to school a day in his life but is a good 'ol boy at heart and has the wisdom of a man thrice his age. Oh, and how he became a werewolf? He has no clue. Just happened one night at a party in his late teens while he was attempting to escort a couple of ladies back to his bachelor pad. Ever since then, the witnesses so affectionately refer to him as "The Party Animal".
Important Relationships; Has some small ties with the mafia.
Mannerisms; Friendly, exceptional table manners. Seems tired all the time, but is very alert. Hardly ever startled. Instead of laughing he just sort of closes his eyes and opens his mouth. Most of the time has a pretty blank look on his face.
Fears/Dislikes; Nuns, ungrateful kids, people with wierd colored eyes (it's a tic).
Likes; Just about everything. A warm fireplace and a bottle (yes, bottle) of JD, being around a crowd of good-humored people willing to hear a tale or two.
Hobbies; Chainsmoking, story telling, sleeping.
Music; Anything.
Appearance; Wierdly tall, about 6' 11", average build, no crazy abs or anything. Hair (badly) dyed black from an incident a few years ago, with some gray roots coming in. Very youthful appearance, always has a cigarette in his mouth. Large scars and random bolts sticking out of his epidermis as the result of his recklessness during his youth.
Personality; Very friendly, understanding, but blunt to the truth. He doesn't like to sugar coat things ever. Great with kids. Generally quiet if not asked to speak. Doesn't force anything that doesn't want to happen itself. Laid-back and jolly.
Sample RP intro;
Thief walked into Wal-Mart with an empty shopping cart. The squeaky wobble-wheel of the damn thing was only a faint buzz in his ears. The smoke from his Reds flowed past the welcomer and made the poor man cough a sputter.
"No smoking in here, sir!" The man protested.
Thief raised a hand with a smile, "Hi, nice to see you too, you have a nice day now.." And continued his way into the mecca of low-priced glory. He made his way down isles and isles of stuff checking down his hand written list.
"Toilet paper.. garlic salt... socks..." He looked up and scratched his list, "Don't need socks... jerkey... and most importantly.." He reached the isle with racks of wine. Thief turned left and retrieved a shopping cart's worth of whiskey, bourbon, and tequila.
"This might last me the week."
He looked back at his little list. "Grapefruit.. I need lots of grapefruit. And lightbulbs. You can never have enough lightbulbs," Theif muttered. He gathered these 'necessities' and carried on to the register where he got himself 20 packs of Reds cigarettes. He payed and left the giant store wheeling his squeaky cart off the parking lot.
"Damn.. I can't wait to move. He said it had more freaks like me."
He put a new cigarette in his mouth and lit it with an old zippo.
Thief grinned and jumped on the back of the cart and started to roll away as if he was on a scooter.
"Cold Creek, here I come."
Celebrity Playby; hans matheson
Name you want to be called; just call me.. Bond. (seriously)
Character’s Nickname(s); Known as Thief, not because he steals.
Race; Werewolf
Grade; never went to school.
Age; 27-33. It varies to who he's talking to.
Birthday; May 18
History; Never knowing or caring about his past, this is what he's gathered up: He was raised by nuns when they found him lying outside some convent and no "return to sender" stamp on his forehead. He was always a trouble maker but never a bad kid. The nuns trained him to be a man of the lord, until he was taken up by several father figures consisting of pimps and priests. Living in the big city he got involved with the mob. His past is ridiculously riddled with unbelievable tales such as being arrested and being spitefully left in the desert by those angry policemen. He will always have a new story to tell. He would probably be on Jerry Springer a few times for DNA testing if he ever remembered what lady friend he had over on one of his teenage escapades. But those days are long gone. His heart was rented out to a girl named Raven years ago, but she stopped paying her dues and was evicted after she died. He stopped relying on alcohol to erase his memories when he realized it was erasing his whole life and soon dedicated himself to caring for troubled children. He never went to school a day in his life but is a good 'ol boy at heart and has the wisdom of a man thrice his age. Oh, and how he became a werewolf? He has no clue. Just happened one night at a party in his late teens while he was attempting to escort a couple of ladies back to his bachelor pad. Ever since then, the witnesses so affectionately refer to him as "The Party Animal".
Important Relationships; Has some small ties with the mafia.
Mannerisms; Friendly, exceptional table manners. Seems tired all the time, but is very alert. Hardly ever startled. Instead of laughing he just sort of closes his eyes and opens his mouth. Most of the time has a pretty blank look on his face.
Fears/Dislikes; Nuns, ungrateful kids, people with wierd colored eyes (it's a tic).
Likes; Just about everything. A warm fireplace and a bottle (yes, bottle) of JD, being around a crowd of good-humored people willing to hear a tale or two.
Hobbies; Chainsmoking, story telling, sleeping.
Music; Anything.
Appearance; Wierdly tall, about 6' 11", average build, no crazy abs or anything. Hair (badly) dyed black from an incident a few years ago, with some gray roots coming in. Very youthful appearance, always has a cigarette in his mouth. Large scars and random bolts sticking out of his epidermis as the result of his recklessness during his youth.
Personality; Very friendly, understanding, but blunt to the truth. He doesn't like to sugar coat things ever. Great with kids. Generally quiet if not asked to speak. Doesn't force anything that doesn't want to happen itself. Laid-back and jolly.
Sample RP intro;
Thief walked into Wal-Mart with an empty shopping cart. The squeaky wobble-wheel of the damn thing was only a faint buzz in his ears. The smoke from his Reds flowed past the welcomer and made the poor man cough a sputter.
"No smoking in here, sir!" The man protested.
Thief raised a hand with a smile, "Hi, nice to see you too, you have a nice day now.." And continued his way into the mecca of low-priced glory. He made his way down isles and isles of stuff checking down his hand written list.
"Toilet paper.. garlic salt... socks..." He looked up and scratched his list, "Don't need socks... jerkey... and most importantly.." He reached the isle with racks of wine. Thief turned left and retrieved a shopping cart's worth of whiskey, bourbon, and tequila.
"This might last me the week."
He looked back at his little list. "Grapefruit.. I need lots of grapefruit. And lightbulbs. You can never have enough lightbulbs," Theif muttered. He gathered these 'necessities' and carried on to the register where he got himself 20 packs of Reds cigarettes. He payed and left the giant store wheeling his squeaky cart off the parking lot.
"Damn.. I can't wait to move. He said it had more freaks like me."
He put a new cigarette in his mouth and lit it with an old zippo.
Thief grinned and jumped on the back of the cart and started to roll away as if he was on a scooter.
"Cold Creek, here I come."
Celebrity Playby; hans matheson
