Post by Conner Black on Apr 12, 2007 15:40:52 GMT
Personal-
Name:Conner Ian Black
Nickname: Coooner
Age:18
Gender:male
Year:junior
Appearence-
Eye Color:green
Hair Color:black
Body Build:average
Skin Color:pale-ish
Scars/Piercings/Tatoos:faded scars on his wrist, and a large burn mark on his lower back, ears perced
Dress Type:emo-ish i guess
Personality-
Likes:hanging out with his friends, parties, candy, extremely random nuts and so much more,
Dislikes:spiders, snakes, the dark, having to take his pills but he does that anyway, doesn't exactly have a choice
Hobbies:playing guitar, partying, hanging out with friends, writing
Strengths:having his friends with him, and loyal to him. Being there to support him.
Weaknesses:nightmares, he's very vulnurable at night, when he has nightmares cause the pills don't help with those, and he gets very upset by them. He doesn't know why. And the dark.
Other-
History:Born into an already messed up home, Conner was raised into a life of alcohal and drugs. He never wanted to be like his parents are. His dad always coming home drunk, his mom always on drugs and he was always left by himself, having to stay in his room, not allowed to make any noise or else he would get beat. He knew that sometimes he deserved it and he learned how to not cry when it happened. When he started school, his parents made sure that bruises were made where no one would notice but he still always had to wear long sleeved shirts. Aside from the beatings, Conner was a normal kid, he had lots of friends and was hyper at school, though the teachers did notice how he often asked if he could stay after school for random reasons so he wouldn't have to go home right away and was always quiet when he did.
He started guitar in the 1st grade, when he saw some older kids playing. He went to his music teacher and asked if he could teach him. For awhile, that was what his life depended on. The music. he spent all his time playing and now he had a good excuse to stay later, but that made his father angry at him for not being home when he's supposed to be. As he got older, the beatings got worse and he started going to the nurse at his school alot before she called a real doctor. He was put on pills because he parents pretended to care and didn't want anyone questioning what was really going on.
After that his life was pills, he became dependent on them, i guess you could say that he was addicted. He would freak out if he missed one or if he ran out. As he got older, he started fighting back during when he got hit. One time it got so bad that his dad to a hot iron to his back, which he now has a permanent scar from. At times he got so depressed that he started cutting. This was noticed at school and the nurse called the doctors again and he was put on anti-depressents. From time to time he would still cut.
When he turned 16, a fight one night he refused to be hit and he actually hit back, knocking out his father and he quickly grabbed all his stuff before he could wake up and left. He dropped out of his school and left town, with only a large backpack, a pocket of change and his guitar. He went from town to town, playing on street corners for penny cash and got random jobs that never lasted long. Now this is where he is. His drug perscription stays full and he thinks that his parents are actually keeping it up for show but he's grateful.
Family:none
Pets:none
Classes:Music, Languages
Anything Else:nope
Codeword: [[Accepted]]
RP Sample:His feet hurt, and as he hurried around tables, bus bucket in hand, they ached even more. He grabbed dishes and glasses off tables to bring them back into the dish room. He was glad to be going on break in another hour but that seemed to far away.
"CONNER!" the boss yelled at him and he turned to look at what he wanted. "Get those tables cleaned off, we have a line!"
Conner rolled his eyes and tossed his head to the side to get his dark hair out of his face. He finished getting the dirty dishes and hurriedly wiped down the tables. It wasn't the greatest job in the world but he didn't hate it. The pay was good and he needed it.
He brought the busbucket out back into the dish room and wiped his hands on the black apron tied around his waist. He grabbed a quick sip of water and went back out into the main room, grabbing some plates and bringing them over to thier respective tables. It was an elderly couple and they didn't say anything just looked reprochfully at his liprings and white t-shirt that said 'Stop reading my t-shirt' in black writing. He walked away rolling his eyes. Some people
Name:Conner Ian Black
Nickname: Coooner
Age:18
Gender:male
Year:junior
Appearence-
Eye Color:green
Hair Color:black
Body Build:average
Skin Color:pale-ish
Scars/Piercings/Tatoos:faded scars on his wrist, and a large burn mark on his lower back, ears perced
Dress Type:emo-ish i guess
Personality-
Likes:hanging out with his friends, parties, candy, extremely random nuts and so much more,
Dislikes:spiders, snakes, the dark, having to take his pills but he does that anyway, doesn't exactly have a choice
Hobbies:playing guitar, partying, hanging out with friends, writing
Strengths:having his friends with him, and loyal to him. Being there to support him.
Weaknesses:nightmares, he's very vulnurable at night, when he has nightmares cause the pills don't help with those, and he gets very upset by them. He doesn't know why. And the dark.
Other-
History:Born into an already messed up home, Conner was raised into a life of alcohal and drugs. He never wanted to be like his parents are. His dad always coming home drunk, his mom always on drugs and he was always left by himself, having to stay in his room, not allowed to make any noise or else he would get beat. He knew that sometimes he deserved it and he learned how to not cry when it happened. When he started school, his parents made sure that bruises were made where no one would notice but he still always had to wear long sleeved shirts. Aside from the beatings, Conner was a normal kid, he had lots of friends and was hyper at school, though the teachers did notice how he often asked if he could stay after school for random reasons so he wouldn't have to go home right away and was always quiet when he did.
He started guitar in the 1st grade, when he saw some older kids playing. He went to his music teacher and asked if he could teach him. For awhile, that was what his life depended on. The music. he spent all his time playing and now he had a good excuse to stay later, but that made his father angry at him for not being home when he's supposed to be. As he got older, the beatings got worse and he started going to the nurse at his school alot before she called a real doctor. He was put on pills because he parents pretended to care and didn't want anyone questioning what was really going on.
After that his life was pills, he became dependent on them, i guess you could say that he was addicted. He would freak out if he missed one or if he ran out. As he got older, he started fighting back during when he got hit. One time it got so bad that his dad to a hot iron to his back, which he now has a permanent scar from. At times he got so depressed that he started cutting. This was noticed at school and the nurse called the doctors again and he was put on anti-depressents. From time to time he would still cut.
When he turned 16, a fight one night he refused to be hit and he actually hit back, knocking out his father and he quickly grabbed all his stuff before he could wake up and left. He dropped out of his school and left town, with only a large backpack, a pocket of change and his guitar. He went from town to town, playing on street corners for penny cash and got random jobs that never lasted long. Now this is where he is. His drug perscription stays full and he thinks that his parents are actually keeping it up for show but he's grateful.
Family:none
Pets:none
Classes:Music, Languages
Anything Else:nope
Codeword: [[Accepted]]
RP Sample:His feet hurt, and as he hurried around tables, bus bucket in hand, they ached even more. He grabbed dishes and glasses off tables to bring them back into the dish room. He was glad to be going on break in another hour but that seemed to far away.
"CONNER!" the boss yelled at him and he turned to look at what he wanted. "Get those tables cleaned off, we have a line!"
Conner rolled his eyes and tossed his head to the side to get his dark hair out of his face. He finished getting the dirty dishes and hurriedly wiped down the tables. It wasn't the greatest job in the world but he didn't hate it. The pay was good and he needed it.
He brought the busbucket out back into the dish room and wiped his hands on the black apron tied around his waist. He grabbed a quick sip of water and went back out into the main room, grabbing some plates and bringing them over to thier respective tables. It was an elderly couple and they didn't say anything just looked reprochfully at his liprings and white t-shirt that said 'Stop reading my t-shirt' in black writing. He walked away rolling his eyes. Some people