Post by hannibal aloysius jones on May 16, 2011 8:39:32 GMT -5
*HANNIBAL ALOYSIUS JONES ,
“lyrics or a quote that suits your character here”
“lyrics or a quote that suits your character here”
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -- - - - -
[/color][/center]*i'm beautiful in my own way,
» FULL NAME: hannibal aloysius jones
» NICKNAMES: han. jonesy
» AGE/BIRTHDAY: eighteen. november seventh
» GENDER: male
» ORIENTATION: bi but not open
» YEAR/ SCHOOL: senior. mckinley
» CLUBS:
» CANON OR ORIGINAL: original
*'cause god makes no mistakes,
» HAIR: dark brown cropped close around the sides with a hint of a fringe at the front. always kept neat.
» EYES: greenwith hints of hazel .
» HEIGHT/WEIGHT: six one with a healthy weight, with a frame that is lean but firm.
» DISTINGUISHING FEATURES: a spidering like scar on his left shoulder. he is very self conscious about it.
» STYLE: rat pack crossed with ivy league. a simple white shit, black tie and grey slacks.
» BODY TYPE: ab negative. rare and doesn't he know it.
» PLAY-BY: danny schwarz
*i'm on the right track baby,
» LIKES:
» DISLIKES:
» STRENGTHS:
» WEAKNESSES:
» SECRETS:
» GOALS:
» OVERALL PERSONALITY: cold. distant. alienating. refined. reserved. caged. violent. liar.
Han has been born to a name, a name with expectations and responsibilities. A name he feels he will never be able to fulfil. The expectation to be perfect and the responsibility to bring no shame to the name weigh heavily on his shoulders. On the outside Han appears to be just what his name implies he be, Blue Blood perfection. He wears the mask well. There had been a time where he had let his mask slip but all cracks have been mended so that only when one knows where to look can they find the fault lines.
Han is the epitome of the strong silent type. Words are scattered and few. Although his words are few he has a way with them. He has the knack to say everything and nothing at the same time. He will say one thing but mean another. He has also found that words can betray him so he tires to use as few as possible. Everything that is said can never be unsaid and some people will use that against you. While on the outside he appears calm and collected, inside he is like a raging sea. He holds in everything and lets it mix together into a deadly concoction until the smallest of sparks can set him off into a ball of flame. He has so much anger and hatred inside of him that he feels confined and trapped within himself and can’t escape. He is conflicted and angered by his feelings. Sometimes he just wants to yell or break things.
Han flat out dislikes people standing too close to him. He doesn't exactly understand why some people insist on standing right up in his personal space. Coupled with his dislike for people invading his personal space Han also has a degree of loathing for large crowds. He finds them to be too loud, too squished and way too on the nose. You don't want to get Han started on Public Displays of Affection. He doesn't want to have to study while in the direct proximity of two people checking each other for ticks. He finds it offensive.
*i was born this way,
» PARENTS:
» SIBLINGS:
» PETS: none
» SIGNIFICANT OTHER: none
» OTHER IMPORTANT PEOPLE: host family. tba.
» HISTORY:
Growing up his father was never daddy, dad or even father, it was always Sir. To put it politely his father is a passionate man, to put it bluntly he is a controlling and demanding. He was most passionate about discipline, respect for his country and the Military. Yeah he is one patriotic man when it serves him. It meant that Han's childhood was filled with rules and order. He spent a large part of his childhood trying to please his father. He did everything the man asked of him and more; yet noting he did seemed good enough. His father didn’t raise a hand to him but his words scared his deeper then anything physical ever could. He didn’t know why he wanted his father’s approval so badly. Han found it impossible to get out of his elder brothers shadow.
When Han turned twelve he was sent away to a prestigious Military Academy that every male in his family attended. Given the Academy’s strict standards less then a dozen students are accepted each year. The Academy is strict in all areas, students are required to wear full uniform everyday without fail, their grades are expected to be of a high standard and they were to show the utmost respect for their superiors. The school had a reputation for its academics and athleticism. Han did what he had to do, he behaved as was expected and no matter how much he hated it he smiled his way through his years at the military School.
Now in every life worth remembering, there is a turning point. A moment in time when a decision is made, and the course of a life is changed. A wrong turn, a second too early or too late and things might have been different. Some call it fate, some chance, and dumb luck for others. What ever you call it, for Han that turning point came and went last year. It began like any other Saturday. Han was woken at 5 in the morning to complete the morning fitness ritual then 6:30 was breakfast. What was different was that Han’s battalion had leave for the day. Having access to a car Han just wanted to jump in and drive and not stop. Along with him came his dorm mate Rory. The day went by without incident, yet that that night when speeding back to the Academy to make curfew Han and Rory became a part of car accident statistics. A drunk driver slammed into them. A drunk driver who also was a teacher at the academy. It hit the headlines.
The accident threw Rory into an early grave and left Han permanently scarred. The accident shattered Han’s shoulder and tore at the muscle and as a result he has been told that if he wants to keep using his arm that he is not to over do it with contact sports. As well as physical injuries it appears that the accident might have damaged him mentally. He wanted to lash out at the world, at himself (which he blamed for everything). He found solace in his vices. What is there left to do then pay enormous amounts of money to get a passport and secure a visa to study in a country where whether you’re a patient or a junkie is determined by who takes your money. More specifically Lima where it so happened they had an opening for an Exchange student ( which is actually debatable if it really existed or if his family paid the school to take him ). They thought it was the right thing to do. Out of sight out of mind. They have attempted to sweep Han under the carpet and it’s only a matter of time till the find out if they have made a mistake.
*don't hide yourself in regret,
» NAME/ALIAS: penny
» AGE: old enough
» ROLEPLAY EXPERIENCE: a while
» HOW YOU FOUND US: let us know so we know what works!
» CODE PHRASE: admin edit
» RP SAMPLE:Rick heard the first rumor at breakfast two days ago. A female student was missing. Rick rolled his eyes at it. The girl was probably up hiding in her dorm room because she had broken out in acne or something equally as mundane. He didn’t give it another thought till the announcement came during his classes the next morning. The missing girl had been found dead. Rick didn’t know her nor could he even put a face to the name. It didn’t really stir anything inside of him besides curiosity. He gave into eavesdropping on the rumors going around, but who wouldn’t? He wanted to distance himself from what was going on outside, but he often found himself drawn in by it. Most of the rumors were speculative and way beyond believable. Rick only began to really listen as the suicide rumors started. He didn’t want to believe it; he didn’t want to believe that it could happen again. By his afternoon class the rumors were confirmed. The situation, a student suicide, had disrupted his year at his former academy.
The third announcement opened the flood gates to a river of old memories. Things he thought he had put behind him reared their ugly heads. Rick couldn’t concentrate for the remainder of his class. His pencil snapped in his hand. All he could see in his head was the moment he found out, the moment he saw his lifeless body on the ground and like a film reel stuck in the projector his mind kept playing it and replaying. Rick did and said what he had to get out of the class early. He didn’t stop pestering his teacher until he let him leave to use the bathroom. Yet that was not what Rick wanted or needed to do.
As soon as he busted out of the classroom his fingers began clawing at his tie. It was too tight. Everything was too tight. He couldn’t breathe in anything he was wearing. Rick paused and leaned against the wall to catch his breath. It was like trying to fill a balloon with a hole in it. No amount of air seemed to be enough. It just kept deflating. Removing what ever pilla he had and flask from his pockets Rick shrugged out of his jacket and left it where it fell. With clenched teeth Rick withheld a scream. Hate. Anger. Guilt. Fear. It was all there in his head fighting for a front row seat. With as much restrain as he could muster Rick swallowed his aggression and pushed off from the wall. He felt hot. His skin was burring. He hadn’t felt this way in a long while. Not since being declared a hazard to himself.
Pulling at his tie Rick entered the first boys bathroom he passed. Without pause Rick approached one of the basins, turned the tap and splashed his face with some of the water. His hands gripped the sides of the basin as he stared down as the water swirled around and down the drain. It didn’t seem to cool the burning fever inside of him. Rick pulled his shirt off over his head leaving a white singlet. He leaned over the washbasin until his face rested under the stream of water. His inclined his head so the water ran off down his neck and back. It dampened it a bit but it didn’t put out the fire. Frustrated Rick stood. With all his pent up fear and anger he almost put his boot through the basin. It rocked on its foundations, another blow and a pipe could burst. FUCK.
Rick tried to breathe but the bullet on the chain around Rick’s neck was burning into his chest. As each second passed it felt like it was getting heavier and heavier. He felt like he had a lead weight around his neck. He had to get it off. Rick enclosed his fingers around the bullet and ripped the chain off from around his neck leaving red marks where the chain had grated against his skin. He enclosed the bullet in a tight fist, squeezing tighter and tighter till his knuckles went white. Rick closed his eyes and placed his fist to his lips. Damn Him! Fucking fuck him! Rick hate him so much, but he hated that he hated him even more. Rick threw open his eyes and threw open one of the stall doors. Rick went to toss the bullet into the ceramic bowl. He let the chain slip from his fingers up until the lost moment where he saved it from falling. He couldn’t do it. Frustrated Rick slammed a fist into the wall of the cubical.
THIS TEMPLATE WAS MADE BY twilight_princess of CAUTION 2.0 aka CHELS. DO NOT STEAL OR REMOVE THIS CREDIT OR I’LL SEND NORBERT AFTER YOU!