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Realistic or Modern Somebody I Used To Know [Characters]

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Other
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apolla

❛ it's only love, nobody dies ❜

Character Sheets

**REALISTIC pictures only please!**

Name:
Age: [21 -26]
Gender:
Sexuality:
Couple #:


Eye Color:
Hair Color:
Height/Weight:
Body Type:
Tattoos/Piercings/Etc.


Likes: [3+]
Dislikes: [3+]
Strengths: [3+]
Weaknesses: [3+]


Relationships: N/A [until accepted]

Personality: [1-2 paragraphs]
Bio: [1-2 paragraphs]


WRITING SAMPLE: **Please put in a spoiler tab underneath CS**
 
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full



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Name: Leah Rae Harling
Age: 22
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Couple #: 3, Opposites Attract


Eye Color: Hazel
Hair Color: Brown
Height/Weight: 5'5 / 130lbs
Body Type: Slim to curvy
Tattoos: x o x o
Piercings: x o x o

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Likes: socializing, reality tv, cats, heels, long earrings
Dislikes: getting wasted, black and white movies, tennis shoes, chores, t-shirts
Strengths: good judgement, leadership qualities, bravery
Weaknesses: being overcritical, perfectionist, practical

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Relationships:

Personality:
Leah likes to think about her actions, sometimes to the point of overthinking. She likes being around people, and she loves her two half siblings. A social butterfly is the perfect term to describe Leah. Because of how she was raised, she always thinks before she speaks (or acts, as stated) so that whatever comes out of her mouth is proper and correct. It has to be, or else there would be dire consequences. She's learned to sit still for hours, and attends her parents fancy parties just about every weekend. She's used to the spotlight being on her and her family, and she knows how to act underneath it.


She's a very caring person, and is always there for people that need her. Sometimes she's there for people who she doesn't even know, because her heart is just that big. She puts up with alot because she's been raised that it's better to turn the other cheek rather than strike back. But that doesn't make her a doormat, and she's walked away from friendships before because of people who assumed so.

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Bio:
Leah grew up in a rich, upper class family in upper Manhatten. Born and bred into a sophisticated, social life, she has no issues with public speaking or making conversation. You could say that Leah is and was spoiled, and you wouldn't be wrong. Though she had chores like every other child, she also had maids and servants that would go behind her and fix whatever she did wrong. Her allowance was more than someones minimum wage salary, but if that wasn't enough then her parents would usually get her what she needed/wanted.

Tragedy struck when Leah was only eight years old. Her father was on his way home from the airport one day when someone T-boned him. The hospital announced him DOA. Thankfully, her mother had income of her own and her father had left them a substancial amount so they weren't screwed. But it was hard emotionally on both of them, despite the fact Leah was so young.

Her mother ended up remarrying a few short years later, and eventually, the twins were born. One boy and one girl, a younger set of half siblings for Leah. Leah loved them dearly. Because of her loss, she learned over the years to appreciate what you had. She also learned to keep a positive face, because someone is always watching. It's what her mother taught her, both in her words and her actions. She's a born and bred socialite thanks to her mother's career, and one day might follow in her footsteps.


Relationship Bio:


Code by apolla apolla
 
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basics

/...winter jackson

/...twenty-four

/...female

vesuvius
/...heterosexual


Appearance //
-eyes: icy blue​
- hair: shimmer silver​
- height/weight: 173cm/54kg​
- body type: skinny​
- tattoos: cat on her wrist​

Personality //
"Look she isn't a bad person, deep, deep, deep down." One of the more common ways to describe winter, she really is just as harsh as the storm. Those who know Winter know that she can be harsh when speaking to people, she doesn't often hold bad when her opinions come out but she never means it in the most viscous ways. Often she'll regret something but is to afraid, or more likely, proud, to admit her wrong doing. Even so, she can be rather fun at times, she'll never back down if a friend gets into trouble and will be there till the end, or until that certain person crosses a line. Her romantic side however, is physical and little else. She hasn't been with someone that has brought out the warmth in her heart, it's been hard but she has learnt to live with the snide comments and indirect disgusted stares at her... free like loving sides.​

Likes //
Grey earl tea // Her birds // Make-up​
Dislikes //
People who don't look after themselves // cats // fast food​

History //
Winter was named after the season she was born in. During a blast storm of cold and snow, she was born at six thirty-eight in the morning to her mother Denise. Little did the two know they would soon despise each other. The first twelve years of their lives together were happy, yet when Winters father came back into the picture after many years of disappearance, everything erupted. Lies were revealed and truths were outed. It was a hard few years and Winter decided that she was going to leave all of her family behind and moved to her friend home when she was eighteen. Soon after she found herself applying for beauty school and successfully got in, but it didn't come with trouble. In her high school years she had been known for seeing more than one guy within a month, and everyone knew about it. Including her new class mates at her new school, this time Winter would be having none of it. The true storm in her emerged.​
Finally graduating she made herself a name as one of the brightest in her class and passed with flying colours of lipstick and eye shadow. Finding herself a new job, her new life started, but it wasn't without heart ache in the relationship she found herself in..​


you can, like, put, like, a separate section, like, here, like, i guess.
 
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[div class=taboutside style=width:100px;margin-top:65px;margin-left:-10px;][div class=tabs]home


[div class=tabs]requisite


[div class=tabs]persona[/div]

[div class=tabs]history[/div][/div] [div class=content][div class="tabsContent tabsContenthome" ]
zahra s. alloui
[/div][/div] [div class=content][div class="tabsContent tabsContentrequis" style=display:none]
her eyes were like a doe's
and they were darker than
a starless night
the requisite
name
Zahra Safiyyah Alloui
age
Twenty-Two
gender
Cis Female
sexual orient
Heterosexual
biromantic
Couple #
Couple #1
eye color
dark brown
hair color
Brown
height/weight
5'9
130 pounds
body type
Slight
Hourglass
body mods
Standard ear piercings
faceclaim
Nora Attal
voice claim



















[/div][/div] [div class=content][div class="tabsContent tabsContentperson" style=display:none]
her mind was like a lens
focusing on the beauty
in everything she saw
preferences
Likes: Photography, nature, her family, travelling, animals (specifically dogs and birds), summertime, chai, being listened to

Dislikes: Dishonesty, bigotry, the cold, having wet hair, animal cruelty, conflicts, being in a rush, being insulted

Strengths: Kind, imaginative, determined, modest, passionate

Weaknesses: Shy, worrisome, emotional, private, passive-aggressive

Relationships: N/A until acceptance
personality
Personality: Zahra has always been an introvert. The girl was always shy and extremely modest despite her wealthy upbringing. However, she keeps many ideas and goals inside her head, and despite her quiet demeanor, Zahra is very much a go-getter. When she is passionate about an interest of hers, she will pursue it fervently. She is not hesitant to take the next step in a situation to achieve a goal and when she has her mind set on something, she will do it.

Zahra is also very selfless when it comes to her family as well as those in need. She hates prejudice and is quick to stand up for those who are oppressed or unfortunate. She is very generous with time and money especially. This makes her prone to being a bit too generous, but she truly enjoys helping others who are less fortunate than her, as well as her own family and friends.

However, Zahra is not without her faults. She is extremely emotional and can even be rather short-tempered. While she tries her best not to stay feeling angry or sad, she's not one who immediately forgives and forgets. She's very prone to staying sad and holding slight grudges, especially when she feels that someone hurt her deeply. She's also highly prone to prolonged crying and anxiety.

Zahra's also quite passive-aggressive and will keep her feelings private unless directly asked. She doesn't like arguments, although there are times when she just wants to scream from the top of her lungs.
dd
[/div][/div] [div class=content][div class="tabsContent tabsContenthistor" style=display:none]
a collection of memories. . .
Biography: Zahra was born in London, England to upper-middle class Moroccan parents. They immigrated to England 4 years before she was born and she was the youngest of 4 children, with 2 brothers and a sister. Her parents were very sociable people and their overly shy daughter worried them. They would always tell her to speak up, and while they always meant well, the continuous conversations soon annoyed her.

Zahra had been quiet since she was very young, having few interests and being very private. She was bullied in elementary school and often laughed at due to her awkwardness when speaking. Being emotional did not make this any better, as she was called "weak" when she would burst into tears. Middle school was better and when she was 12, she finally found something she was interested in - photography.

It seemed strange that the only thing that caught the painfully shy Moroccan girl's eye was the art of taking pictures. But to her, it was so much more than just taking a picture. It was a creative outlet and a way for her to blow off steam and admire the beauty of the world around her. She saw everyday things in a whole new light. The beautiful blueness of a cloudless sky, the bright green of the plants in spring, and much more. It lifted Zahra's spirits when she felt down and she knew that she wanted it to be more than a hobby for her.

Zahra's parents immigrated to the United States when she was 13. She was finishing middle school at the time and she was then enrolled at a local highschool at the age of 14. She was a major wallflower, being a new girl and feeling out-of-place in a new country. But in a matter of months, she began to feel better, joining several clubs and being a part of the school band.

Then she met a guy who was a few months older than her. He was handsome, popular, and all the girls wanted him. Zahra had a huge crush on him, but of course he wouldn't go for her, the quietest girl in school. There were many other pretty girls to choose from. However, one day, he apparently noticed her and actively attempted to win her over. She felt weird about it at first, but after it went on for nearly a month, she fell deeply in love with him and they were in a serious relationship.

He made her feel special and he treated her with an incredible amount of respect. They both loved each other very much and he was Zahra's first boyfriend. She knew she wanted to be in a long-term relationship with him and he made her feel like the happiest girl in the world. They were together for nearly 3 years, but then after their high school graduation, he suddenly disappeared. She became extremely worried. Did something happen to him? Did he run off to chase another woman? Was she suddenly not good enough for him?

All these thoughts lowered the girl's self-esteem dramatically and she felt like crying everytime she thought about the whole situation. After she graduated, Zahra enrolled into a local college and majored in Computer Science, getting an associate's degree in Web Development. She became a professional web developer and bought a nice-sized apartment, as well as adopted a male golden Cockapoo named Biscuit and a female Abyssinian cat named Cocoa. While she left photography on the side and currently has it as a hobby, Zahra plans to become a professional photographer very soon.
. . . from the past
[/div][/div] [/div][/div]
 
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yuuup it's a placeholder
power couple girl

 
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Jaime Ayala III
Couple #1: Teenage Dream Couple






  • CvIx01LUAAAc4oV.jpg:large
    Name:
    • Jaime Aphros Zóbel de Ayala III
    • Yeo Jae Mi (Korean name)
    Age: 22
    Gender: Male
    Sexuality: Heterosexual

    Eye Color: Brown
    Hair Color: Black
    Height: 5'11 ft tall
    Weight: 150 lbs / 68 kg
    Body Type: Hourglass
    Others: Philippine patriotic-related tattoo (black) on his right shoulder and a piercing on his left ear. He is also a polyglot; able to speak several languages such as Spanish, Filipino, English, and Korean.



 
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Name: Melanie Pope
Age: 25
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Bisexual
Couple #: Power couple


Eye Color: Blue
Hair Color: Black
Height/Weight: 5'9" 145lbs
Body Type: Curvy
Tattoos/Piercings/Etc: Both Earlobes


Likes: Pasta, Space, Spicy Curry's, Jazz Music, Singing
Dislikes: Being wrong, chocolate, Sitting around doing nothing, loud Rock/Metal music
Strengths: Intelligent, good with numbers, Leadership skills, Thrives under stress
Weaknesses: Bossy, stubborn, prideful, can be mean,


Relationships: N/A [until accepted]

Personality: Mel seems confident and outspoken to her colleges. She never seems to falter or make a mistake. She builds others up and gets the best out of her sales teams, as well as handles the company's finances like a pro. But under all that bravado is someone still trying to gain the approval of others. Success is the only way she knows how to feel a temperary sense of happiness. She cannot stop moving or she falls into a sort of depression. It is taking a huge toll on her mental well-being and often she will cause fights for no reason just to relieve some stress. In moments of clarity she can see what she is doing to herself and tries to be kinder, not just to others but to herself. She is a product of her upbringing but is trying to change for the better.
Bio: Mel grew up an only child of a very rich and successful family. Her very rich father got a divorce from his very successful biologist wife and the mother of his child when she was just 5 years old and went on to have a string of younger, blonde women with good looks and few brains. Mel never really got along with her father, but like father like daughter, she also striven to be the best. She got the best grades in school, she learnt chinese, she knew how to play Mozart on the piano and she was the school president in high school. But unfortunatly no matter how well she did, her father didn't get any less distant. Every boy she ever dated she scared off, every girl she ever dated she didn't give enough of her time or attention, for the longest time she focused on herself and ignored dating all together. She attended business school then joined a powerful competency and began working her way up the ranks. it was then she met ____. She really did love him, she tried her best to change her ways for him, but since he was so similer to her in terms of career ambision, the two were barely able to spend time together, which took a toll on her relationship. Eventually the two of them decided to break it off. This was one of her greatest regrets.


She couldn't sleep after that. He mental health took a decline, and the quality of her work also took a hit. She felt increasingly down on herself until she could no longer got out of bed. Since she was such a big part of the company, they let her take some leave to sort out her head. In that time she had a few flings, she tried to take up a hobby or two, do some arts and craft, make some friends. But it wasn't until she got the oppitunity to be on this show that she really felt she could get better.

Closure, she needed closure. She was sure, if she was able to tlk to him one last time, this might sort out her head and help her get back to where she was.

WRITING SAMPLE: **Please put in a spoiler tab underneath CS**
 
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#3: The Opposites Attract Couple
Bryce Allen Patterson



Bryce_Patterson.png
Basics
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Heterosexual

Appearance
Hair: Blond
Eye: Blue
Height: 177cm / 5’10”
Weight: 76kg / 168lbs
Body Type: Medium-frame / Athletic
Others: Speaks with a Southern drawl

Overview
Likes:
Music (Mostly folk, rock, and everything in between)
Reality Shows
Coffee and Cigarettes
Sports (Particularly basketball; can get very passionate about the Atlanta Hawks)
Home Improvement and Other D-I-Y Projects

Dislikes:
Politics
Unhealthy / Junk Food (... with the exception of caffeine and nicotine, of course)
Clubbing and Wild Parties
Technology and Social Media
Hipsters and Elitists

Strengths: Dependable / Hard-working / Passionate / Independent / Sociable

Weaknesses: Stubborn / Hot-tempered / Insecure / Acts like it would kill him to ask for help or admit he doesn't know something

Bryce_Patterson2.png
Personality
Bryce is an extrovert at heart. He’s also a performer at heart. Perhaps an idealist at heart. That’s exactly what he is: A lot of heart. A hopeless romantic in all aspects of life, Bryce never does anything without giving it his best. It’s commendable to some extent -- and Bryce would always be the first to say that he’s proud of himself -- but it could also get exhausting. After all, not every ounce of passion is granted the equivalent amount of success. It’s been a while since he realised this, but nowadays it’s finally starting to sink in.

Beneath the confident exterior lies layers upon layers of questions: What if he isn’t good enough? What if he gets stuck at this dead-end job? Did he really leave home for this? What would his family think? What would everyone think? Because at the end of the day, he’s still a slave to people’s opinions -- even people who don't matter, shouldn't matter. As hard he tries to shake it off, he’s still just a country boy lost in a world bigger than anything he’s ever known.

Biography
If you’ve never heard of Marshdale, you’re not the only one. Bryce grew up in small-town Georgia, where everyone knew everyone, and your future was paved the moment you were born: If you had a good head on you, you were off to college, and since you were smart, you would never think to look back. Otherwise, you were stuck with your hands, destined for a simple life of farming and mining.

Bryce was stuck in the in-between: No chance at becoming the next rocket scientist, but no way in hell he’d ever agree to a life that never got anywhere. He tried the next best thing. Upon graduating high school, he moved to Los Angeles to live with a distant cousin. There, he took to the streets, strumming his guitar and singing his heart out, but a couple quarters and dollar bills never brought a hearty dinner to the table. Eventually, he started taking odd jobs here and there -- painting walls and passing flyers -- telling himself that this was only temporary, that he’d get his big break soon. No luck as of yet.

Somewhere between 18 and 26, he met a girl. Of course there was a girl. There’s always a girl. They were night and day, fire and ice. She always seemed so ... sophisticated, whereas he was the epitome of plain and simple, perhaps even unexciting, and often, he found himself asking what she ever saw in him. Other times, he was only happy that she was in for the ride. Maybe it was selfish on his part. Writing songs became a breeze when she was around. It only ever took a thought or a smile. She burst with melody. Of course, no song plays forever.

The world is a lot more quiet now. Bryce is 26. His guitar collects dust in a corner of his room, old strings unplucked and out-of-tune. He spends his days wiping tables and mixing drinks for other people. They like to laugh, and they like to talk, but they clutch at their drinks with such urgency that it makes him wonder. They’re a lot like him, in a way, and suddenly, when he looks at his life now, he doesn’t seem to mind much. At least he belongs.

Writing Sample
Sabroe was quick to place a hand on Apollo’s arm -- much to his chagrin -- signalling for the latter to keep quiet for the time being.

‘Elias. I hope you’re doing well.’ She smiled, giving him a slight nod, although by now, she’d learned not to be too optimistic about Elias’ well-being. She'd told Apollo time and time again that the government probably had the resources to help him, but the latter would have none of it. You'd be forcing a square peg into a round hole were his exact words, and they never brought up the topic again. ‘Our sincerest apologies for visiting on such short notice. Unfortunately, Apollo refuses to tell me anything before we got here.’

‘Did you really need to tell him that? It’ll just go to his head, you know.’ Apollo sighed, his tone as cool and sing-song as ever, though the fact that he had yet to make a reference to The Matrix spoke about how high his spirits truly were.

He made his way to the living room, Sabroe trailing after him, and plopped down on the couch, looking every bit as if he owned the place. ‘I’ll pass on the drinks, Morph, but bring me a wine glass, anyway. It’s better if I showed you instead.’ Apollo sat with his legs crossed, one arm spread over the back of the couch. He looked up, to his side, at Sabroe, who simply elected to stand up with her arms at her sides, looking very wary of their surroundings.

‘You know, the last time I had a vision, I saw a newborn child, his hand wrapped around the tiniest dagger.’ Apollo’s voice had gone soft, his gaze falling down the ground. He almost looked like he was lost in another time. ‘I saw him cutting down a string, an impossible knot, the ropes that held together the empire of my people. Twine fell away to blade, and downwards the once-great marble buildings went, crumbling, ushering the dawn of a new era.’

‘Alexander the Great,’ Sabroe mumbled under her breath.

‘He was born that day.’ Apollo should have known. Perhaps if he and his fellow gods hadn’t grown so selfish and arrogant -- quarrelling amongst themselves, as ever -- they would have been able to do something to stop it. Perhaps they could still have been proper gods today. Perhaps that was why he found himself here, thousands of years later, when he could just as well have run away. History must not repeat itself. ‘Ah, but enough dawdling. Where’s my bloody glass?’
 
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Damian Lee





Basics and Appearance

Name: Damian Lee

Age: 25

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Straight

Eye Colour: Brown

Hair Colour: Black

Height: 6'1''

Weight: 62 kg

Body type: Slightly built

Tattoos: x

Couple: Couple Number 2 (The Toxic Couple)

Likes and Personality


Likes: Skateboarding, Art, Camping, Cats, Music Festivals

Dislikes: Cops, Wasted time, Hangovers,

Strengths: Thrill seeking, Loyal , Funny, Thoughtful, Sensitive

Weaknesses: Easily angered, emotional, regretful

Personality: Damian, being the typical rebellious graffiti artist, enjoys breaking the law every once in a while. He likes to do crazy and stupid things just enjoy the thrill of it. He's funny and is often the life of the party but keeps his friends and family closer to him than anyone else. Because of his thrill seeking nature, Damian gets into a lot of trouble and disappoints many people close to him. Deep down, he beats himself up over his past mistakes but momentarily forgets about it the moment he's distracted.


history

History: Damian was born in San Francisco, to an immigrant family from Korea. He, along with his twin sister, Mia, who was born 10 minutes before him, grew up embracing American culture. They grew up speaking English in public and Korean at home, but felt like they belonged more in the bay area.

Damian and Mia were inseparable from the start. Going to the same parties, playing the same games, even occasionally wearing the same clothes made them seem like they were the same person, personality-wise. By the age of 7, they were finally separated. That summer, Damian and Mia changed schools to help them make new friends and change their personalities a little bit.

It was a difficult transition, but it eventually worked. Damian turned into an extrovert. He excelled in the arts and music more than anything else. His teachers noted that, although disobedient, he was creative. He had this charisma and charm that drew other students in, but got in trouble when he turned into a borderline bully. Mia was the polar opposite. She was quiet and withdrawn, but she was the best in science and math. Despite this, they still talked whenever they could, even if their differences widened.

Mia left for University in Massachusetts while Damian took a gap year to travel across the country. He partied in Nevada, served drinks Florida and discovered graffiti art in New York. By the time Damian returned to California, he became a new man. He was a tad more sensitive and thoughtful, but still had the thrill seeking flare in him. He studied Archeology in University and got a boring job in a museum. But at night, he and his buddies roamed the backstreets and dimly lit alleys to tag abandoned buildings. He still kept contact with his sister, who was his closest friend and feels like it's his duty to keep her company even if they're on the other side of the country.

And for awhile, he was somewhat content with life. A nice cycle he could get used to.

That's until he met... her. And his life was turned upside down.


Writing Sample


"Another one was found last night, Father," the scout sighs, "Just like the rest..."

The air was thick with smoke and ash, black dust whipped and stirred in the calm morning wind. Their cries were long gone...replaced with the occasional cracks of the firewood. The crowd has long left to tend to their morning affairs. Fathers to their fields and mothers to their children.

Alban remains. Bent over the dying light of the fire, he dismisses the scout with the wave of his hand. He has failed once more. The beast has not been caught, at least not all of them. No... the plague of death and deceit continues to live, to breed, to infect his populous once more. Disgusting vermin.

He rises, gazing upon his fields with the great, white mountains dominating the surroundings. The fog has stayed and settled for the past week, accompanied with the blue, bitter air of winter. The leaves have fallen and the birds rarely chirp. The food banks have been filled, enough to last through the season. Still, many will perish from the stabbing gusts of the midnight winds. The weak are slain, the strong retreat.

And yet, the disease lives on.


coding by: diaphanous
 
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Kentin Davies
------------------///------------------
Toxic Couple Male

YOU GET UNDER MY SKIN
Name: Kentin "Kenny" Davies
Age: 25
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Pansexual
Couple #: 2

MORE THAN ANYONE'S EVER BEEN
Eye Color: Periwinkle Blue
Hair Color: Dirty Blond
Height/Weight: 6'1"/176 lbs
Body Type: Mesomorph
Tattoos/Piercings: A dove on his left calf

BUT WHEN WE LAY IN BED
Likes:
~Alcohol
~Doves
~Guyliner
~Eminem/B.O.B.
~Philly
Dislikes:
~His Insecurity
~His Behavior
~Garish/Offensive Music
~Lies
~Prejudice Against Him
Strengths:
~Flirting
~Dancing
~Accepting Others
~Stripping Randomly That probably doesn't count
~Telling the Truth
Weaknesses:
~His Reflection
~Anemone Flowers
~Really, Really Hot Guys
~Someone Flirting With Him
~His Past

YOU HOLD ME HARDER TIL I FORGET
Personality:
Even Kentin hasn't figured out what Kentin is all about. All he does know is that he's not much for anything he construes as mean (teasing is different), and he's always the first to point out when a comment is unnecessary. Yeah, he's kinda a hypocrite with himself, but with others, he's got a moral compass the size of Texas. If he's crossed a line, he'll be the first to apologize about it...unless he was totally right. His consideration only pops up when he fears he's going to lose a one-night stand or a friend he holds dear.

Still, Kentin is utterly ridiculous. Guyliner and his constant need to show off his abs? Weird, right? He has no shame when it comes to social interaction, but to some, it's endearing. Most of his deepest thoughts are put into his flirting, which is always genuine and always comes from his heart. (Or that part of his body where his heart supposedly used to be.) However, he's easily offended by those who only think of sex and nothing else. Call it what you will, but even though he's somewhat of a playboy, he has standards... Well, actually, you just need to be interesting. He'll probably make out with you.

Though he's dressed up as some faker who's only purpose is to be eye candy, Kentin has deep insecurities that he hates having exploited. If someone manages to pin the exact source of that insecurity. It causes a very strong defense mechanism...

Bio:
(TRIGGER WARNING? STRIPPER REFERENCES)
"So, Kentin, where are you--"
"WEST PHILADELPHIA, BORN AND RAISED!"
There you have it. Kentin Davies was indeed born and raised in West Philadelphia, though he didn't spend most of his days on a playground. He spent most of his time curled up with his mother, listening to her read him Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. There was no father in the picture as far as he could tell, and when he finally asked, his mother simply stared out the window and said he was "gone." Kentin took that to mean dead...foolishly.

Kentin's mother, Tracy, meant the entire world to him. She was the only family he had, and he made sure to keep a smile on her face, especially on the nights when she came home from work in tears. Tracy worked long hours to support her son, but his friends were careful not to reference her line of work. Why? Because Tracy Davies worked at a strip club, the only job she could pull off, having dropped out of high school because she felt she couldn't do it. Though her line of work wasn't exactly respectable (by some), Kentin thought she was the best. So he'd hug her until her arms wrapped around him and she kissed his forehead.

Maybe it was his rugged good looks, but every girl (or guy) Kentin went out with tried to sleep with him on the first date, starting in high school. Honestly, he was insulted. Wasn't his dashing personality enough? Apparently not, because even though he believed he was too young, his various girlfriends and boyfriends couldn't keep their hands off him. He fended them off and ended up dating around while his mother continued working herself to the bone to keep their lives afloat.

Unfortunately, Tracy fell ill when Kentin was graduating high school. He did the best he could, but it wasn't enough to save her. Slowly, she grew weaker and weaker until it was clear she wouldn't recover. Kentin refused to leave her side until, clutching Tracy's hand, he watched her fade away, a smile on her lips as she appraised her one and only son, the light of her life.

From there, Kentin spiraled out of control. He became a hypocrite, sleeping around without regard and pretending he didn't care. His flirting grew incessant, and something inside of him cracked. Following in his mother's footsteps, he became a stripper, though he only kept at it for about a year before getting a job as a bartender. (He's damn good.) Still, he flinches whenever someone makes a reference to lap dances, though he'll definitely do it if someone asks. He's ashamed that he lost control of himself, and he's trying his best to regain control.

But some people bring out that restless side of him that he loathes with his entire being.

Relationships: N/A (Until Most Likely Not Accepted)


code by spookie spookie

The least her mother could've done was understand that she didn't want to wear a skirt. She hated skirts with a burning passion, almost as much as she hated the idea of unicorns and rainbows. Oh, well, at least she'd managed to swap out all the fancy dresses Mom had put in her suitcases for her usual cargo pants, tanks tops, etc. That thought continued to make Skylie smirk as she wandered around the ship. She passed many rooms that radiated with different colors, but she didn't bother go inside them. A mix of colors, plus loud noises? She was not getting a headache today.

Eventually, she made it to the front deck, where there was quite the gathering of people her age. Their auras were mixes of colors, but they kept returning to red: anger and frustration. One boy was peering down into the water anxiously, while another girl chewed out a boy for heaven knows what. Both boys were shirtless for some reason, though one was still dripping. Maybe he'd been at the pool? Whatever, all that mattered was that apparently someone had fallen in the water. Whether it was the dark-haired boy's fault or not remained to be seen. Checking that her Eiffel tower keychain was securely in her duffel bag, she dropped it with a loud thunk! and walked over to the small group.

Normally, people would ask, "What's going on?" or something else relating concern. No, Skylie instead broke in with, "Can all of you shut up? Your colors are giving me a headache." Looking over the railing into the water below, Skylie sighed. "If you guys aren't going to do anything, I guess I'll have to." Clambering onto the railing, Skylie glared down at the water. She didn't have anything against the water itself, but rather, what she'd have to do with it after fetching the girl. With a sigh, she dove into the water, trying to remember if she could swim or not.

Once in the water, Skylie looked around, searching for the girl. A little ways below her was the girl, her fiery red hair floating around her like flames. Swimming over to the girl, Skylie wrapped her arms around her waist, kicking with all her might to swim to the surface. When her head broke through the water, she adjusted her grip on the girl, slapping her lightly on the cheek to see if she'd wake up. Unfortunately, she was out cold. Damn. Turning to look up at the deck she dove from, she narrowed her eyes and focused on the water surrounding her. Slowly, water droplets lifted from the ocean, rising to the side of the ship. They swirled in the air until finally there was a rainbow ladder--or, really, a ladder made of rainbows--scaling the height of the boat.

Wrapping the girl's arms around her shoulders and hooking her legs around her waist, she gripped the ladder with one hand, noting the brightness of the sun. If she didn't hurry, the ladder would dissipate into thin air. Skylie used all her agility as a former street urchin to climb the ladder, feeling the rungs disappear as soon as her feet left them. Her eyebrows knit together in determination until finally, she'd reached the railing she had dove off of minutes before. She pulled the upper half of her body over the railing, dropping the girl rather unceremoniously onto the deck. Skylie herself somehow flipped and landed in a crouch, breathing heavily. Standing up and wringing the water out of her hair, she glanced down at the girl. Her gaze flitted up to the other people around her. "I don't know what happened, but next time, don't just stand there freaking out. Do something about it." The words came out harshly, but she meant every word she said. Sitting around doing nothing got you nowhere, especially when someone's life was on the line.

With a yawn, Skylie scratched her head. "We should either go find a nurse or doctor, or give her CPR, quick, before it's too late." Being the girl she was, Skylie would've done it, but CPR was not in her repertoire of skills. And she wasn't going to carry that girl again.
 
#4 The Power Couple
Cedric Gilligan-Parsons



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Basics
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Heterosexual

Appearance
Hair: Black
Eye: Brown
Height: 180cm / 5’11”
Weight: 78kg / 172lbs
Body Type: Medium-frame / Average
Others: Myopic / Needs Glasses

Overview
Likes:
Science / Research
Cooking
Cleanliness
Schedules / To-Do Lists
Non-fiction books

Dislikes:
Misinformation
Spontaneity
Driving
Loud noises / Strong scents
Small-Talk / People who beat around the bush

Strengths: Intelligent / Rational / Competitive / Straightforward

Weaknesses: Inflexible / (Can be) Emotionally unavailable / Socially Awkward

Personality
You are, or you aren’t. Cedric lives in a world of binary, seeing the universe through a string of 1’s and 0’s. The structure is comforting; the only way to keep yourself getting lost is by latching onto something concrete. Cedric’s held onto this mindset the day he was born, seeing it as the only way to cope with the chaos of humanity. It is, in fact, this need for structure that is, perhaps, his most defining quality -- trumping even his dogged assertiveness, or his love for science. It is this need for structure that had driven him to have a life plan as early as 8 -- setting in stone specific goals like graduating valedictorian in high school, or finishing a double degree with latin honours. For Cedric, it’s been so far, so good. He’s never been one to leave to-do lists unfinished.

It’s not surprising that Cedric doesn’t have many friends. His tendency to become pedantic, or worry over the littlest thing, is often construed as obnoxious by many people. Thankfully, or perhaps unfortunately, Cedric doesn’t really mind. He has no need of them. He only need be right.

Biography
Being the son of two UCLA professors almost cemented a certain path for Cedric the moment he was born, and he’d never thought to stray from it. His love for research and the sciences became apparent at a young age when, barely seven years old, Cedric wrote his parents a detailed explanation of why he believes Santa Claus is a fraud, citing population statistics, geographical data, and basic physics calculations in his paper. He was a strange kid -- not exactly shy as much as someone who preferred the company of books to other children. His teachers were quick to recommend he skip a grade or three, but his parents remained adamant about the importance of having Cedric grow up around kids his age. As a compromise, they decided to provide their son additional education themselves, as well as enrolling him to classes in social training.

Despite his eccentricities, Cedric grew up relatively well-adjusted. He was never one of the popular kids -- nor did he ever want to be -- and only ever interacted with two or three other people in his class. Graduating class valedictorian, he got accepted into a top university with a complete scholarship. Cedric chose to go to a university away from his parents, knowing full well that this stage in life was an exercise in independence as much as it was a chance at education. There, he tried to push his limits, juggling a major between pharmacology and biopsychology, although that was the least of his worries. Rather, he tried to be more active in social events, joining various university clubs and attending parties, because, as everyone said, university was also where you were supposed to make connections.

It worked out well enough. He found someone who seemed … different. Perhaps not in the exact same ways that he was, but just in the right places that it almost seemed like she understood him. They understood each other. It was a scary thought -- too far out of his comfort zone than what he’d expected -- and so he buried it. Not even actively. He just let life take its course, until finally, somewhere between conflicting schedules and project deadlines, the connection simply got lost.

Eventually, Cedric had to leave for graduate school in the UK. He finished with a master’s degree in Experimental Pharmacology and Therapeutics a year later, and then a PhD in Neuroscience after three years. Four years after his undergrad, he’s back to the US, having just accepted a position as a sessional instructor at his old university.

Writing Sample
Sabroe was quick to place a hand on Apollo’s arm -- much to his chagrin -- signalling for the latter to keep quiet for the time being.

‘Elias. I hope you’re doing well.’ She smiled, giving him a slight nod, although by now, she’d learned not to be too optimistic about Elias’ well-being. She'd told Apollo time and time again that the government probably had the resources to help him, but the latter would have none of it. You'd be forcing a square peg into a round hole were his exact words, and they never brought up the topic again. ‘Our sincerest apologies for visiting on such short notice. Unfortunately, Apollo refuses to tell me anything before we got here.’

‘Did you really need to tell him that? It’ll just go to his head, you know.’ Apollo sighed, his tone as cool and sing-song as ever, though the fact that he had yet to make a reference to The Matrix spoke about how high his spirits truly were.

He made his way to the living room, Sabroe trailing after him, and plopped down on the couch, looking every bit as if he owned the place. ‘I’ll pass on the drinks, Morph, but bring me a wine glass, anyway. It’s better if I showed you instead.’ Apollo sat with his legs crossed, one arm spread over the back of the couch. He looked up, to his side, at Sabroe, who simply elected to stand up with her arms at her sides, looking very wary of their surroundings.

‘You know, the last time I had a vision, I saw a newborn child, his hand wrapped around the tiniest dagger.’ Apollo’s voice had gone soft, his gaze falling down the ground. He almost looked like he was lost in another time. ‘I saw him cutting down a string, an impossible knot, the ropes that held together the empire of my people. Twine fell away to blade, and downwards the once-great marble buildings went, crumbling, ushering the dawn of a new era.’

‘Alexander the Great,’ Sabroe mumbled under her breath.

‘He was born that day.’ Apollo should have known. Perhaps if he and his fellow gods hadn’t grown so selfish and arrogant -- quarrelling amongst themselves, as ever -- they would have been able to do something to stop it. Perhaps they could still have been proper gods today. Perhaps that was why he found himself here, thousands of years later, when he could just as well have run away. History must not repeat itself. ‘Ah, but enough dawdling. Where’s my bloody glass?’
 
jules ruiz.
female
24
BASICS.
HAIR reddish brown ┋EYES dark brown
HEIGHT 164 cm ┋ D.O.B. december 25th
PERSONALITY


jules is a very ambitious and career-driven woman. she grew up in a lower middle class household and was from a young age determined to break the cycle of community collages and service jobs. she is stubborn and bad at compromising, and even worse at taking criticism.

her family is originally from spain and she speaks limited spanish. she is straight.



///////LIKES
///////sushi
///////the city
///////red wine
///////fashion
///////work
///////smoking
/////DISLIKES
/////'laziness
/////'the countryside
/////'beer
/////'romance
/////'vacations
/////'piercings

 
f5b652b28ee1255faf713b2415654a10-2.jpg


Name: Veronika "Vera" Petrova

Age: 23

Gender: Female

Sexuality: Bisexual

Couple #: 4 - Power couple



Eye Color: Brown

Hair Color: Blonde

Height/Weight: 5’8”/ 130 lbs

Body Type: Slim

Tattoos/Piercings/Etc.: Both earlobes pierced, cats footprints tattoo on the inside of her left wrist


Likes: cats, rain, books, sports

Dislikes: bugs, liars, sweets, piercings

Strengths: Mature, Intelligent, Sporty

Weaknesses: Easily scared, moody, stubborn

Relationships: N/A [until accepted]


Personality:

In spite of her looks, Vera is not one to use her beauty to charm people. In all honesty, she won’t say she’s upset of being so beautiful but it has attracted lots of fake and unwanted attention throughout her life, so she is usually picky with whom she allows to get closer to her, not because she likes being alone, but because she doesn’t trust people to like her for who she is. It might take a bit to get through her defenses, but when one does it’s worth it, as she is a very loyal and caring friend. She tends to get mood swings easily though, as she has hormonal health issues in the form of polycystic ovaries.


Bio:

Vera was born in Moscow, Russia, to a photographer and a model, but due to her parents jobs moved to the United States at the tender age of five. Since a young age Vera showed a special interest for figure skating, and dedicated all her youth to practise to one day become an Olympic medallist. She never had many friends, but that was never of importance to her, as she was focused on her task. In spite of this she was popular in school due to her looks, and many people tried to be her friend only to talk back about her behind her back, so she soon learnt to not trust people. Now that she is older she is more confident and knows how to distinguish the people who are worth her attention from the people who are not.



He adjusted the scarf around his neck better, never stopping, always facing forwards, his feet hitting the dark concrete below him louder than he would have liked. “Don’t look at anyone in the eyes, don’t stop walking, act like you weren’t scared to dead” he chanted in his mind. He cursed himself and his nonexistent sense of direction. “How can you be so stupid, Erik!”

He had decided it would be a good idea to go for a walk; he liked to walk after all, and he hadn’t been around the city yet. He hadn’t been around the city yet. It took him several months to not get lost when going to the city back at home. Why hadn’t he thought he could get lost in here, an unknown place? He almost scoffed at his own idiocy; almost, because he didn’t want to draw attention to himself.

Somehow he had ended up on what looked like a slum. Everyone around here seemed drug addicts, drunkards or criminals. In any other moment he would have reprimanded himself for being so discriminative, but right now he couldn’t care less. The sun was already hiding, and he was hungry, tired and, to be honest, scared. At least to himself he could admit it; he was a coward. It was one of the things he hated the most about himself, but what could he do? He was a weak person, physically and emotionally. He couldn’t defend himself, at least not in a situation like this one.

He took a turn to the left and found himself on a dead end. The smoke of a cigarette was the only thing visible in the dark. Suddenly there were shining eyes looking at him and below them the gleam of what he thought to be a penknife. Without needing to think twice he turned around and began running with all his might. Fast footsteps could be heard behind him; the man was following him.

Turning on a corner his eyes widened, at least, his salvation! “Taxi!” he shouted, relieve obvious in his features. The car stopped in front of him almost immediately and he got in as fast as possible, slamming the door shut after him. It was then when he noticed something wasn’t right, there was a tickling sensation on his hand. He looked down and found the seat full of worms and cockroaches. He removed his hand from there and averted his gaze towards the driver. And then he screamed.

He woke up with a start, a bit disorientated at first before noticing he was sitting on his bed, safe. He slumped back down and put his arm against his forehead, his heart still beating furiously on his chest. Of course it was a dream; it was all too weird to be real. But as he closed his eyes the driver’s face appeared, the image still too clear on his mind; void eyes, rotten flesh, worms going out of his mouth and ears… Just remembering it was making him feel sick.

Knowing he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep again he got up and stretched his limbs, planning to get ready for another day of work.
 

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