Post by JEREMIAH LUCAS SCOTT on Sept 27, 2009 21:25:45 GMT
JEREMIAH LUCAS SCOTT
it's not like I need somebody
TELLING ME WHERE I SHOULD GO AT NIGHT
[/left][/blockquote]it's not like I need somebody
TELLING ME WHERE I SHOULD GO AT NIGHT
FULL NAME: jeremiah lucas scott.
NICKNAME: jem.
AGE: seventeen.
YEAR: second year.
ACCOMMODATION: the cells.
BIRTHDATE: 31/10
GENDER: male.
ORIENTATION: bisexual.
STATUS: single.
CANON/ORIGINAL: original.
don't worry you'll find somebody
SOMEONE TO TELL HOW TO LIVE THEIR LIFE
[/b]
LIKES: smoking, sleeping in, weekends, tattoos, sunglasses, alcohol, stealing things, staying up all night, hair dye, halloween, compliments, hair gel, mirrors.
DISLIKES: most types of foods, overly-friendly people, people who critizise him for smoking/drinking/drug taking, staff, the cells, being nice to people, caring about people, losing his sunglasses, mobile phone running out of battery.
STRENGTHS: very self controlled, quite smart, good at reading & analyzing people, doesn't let people manipulate him easily.
WEAKNESSES: doesn't make/keep friends easily. keeping enough energy in himself to actually use his power, gets angry and irritated easily, sometimes has violent outbursts.
FEARS: being stuck in bellafields forever, never actually having a real power.
GOALS: to actually keep a power for longer than a day, to get out of bellafields somehow.
SECRETS: he can be quite nice when he chooses to be
DISORDER:
power mimicry & absorption
jem doesn't actually have a specific power of his own. when he can be bothered, he can mimic or 'absorb' the powers of others around him. this doesn't take the powers away from the other person, it simply means he has the same abilities as them. however, he can only have the specific power for a limited amount of time, usually no longer than a day. this depends on how much he focuses on gaining the power, and how long he is around the person with it, how strong the connection is.
shapeshifting
because of his power above, that means that if he tries hard enough, he can take on the form of whatever animal the other person is. this is even harder to do, because he has to manipulate the power from the person, but also change his whole form.
PERSONALITY: unfriendly, cold, harsh, irritated, blunt, self-centered, controlled, unsociable, egotistical, passive, rude, thoughtless, tactless, manipulative, obtuse, vain.
[/left][/blockquote][/blockquote]
'cause you're so perfect
AND NO ONE MEASURES UP
PB: ash stymest.
HEIGHT: 6"1
WEIGHT: 120 lbs.
HAIR: jet black, messy mohawk.
EYES: blue.
BODY TYPE: very skinny.
MUTATION: if he puts enough effort into it, he can take the form of an animal, but only after taking it from someone who is naturally one. occasionally, he can have a few broken bones or marks on his body where he has taken a power, and not been able to control it well enough, therefore hurting himself.
STYLE: he likes to wear skintight jeans, and he usually never wears a t-shirt, preferring to go bare chested. he wears a lot of wristbands and bracelets, and if he does decide to wear a shirt, its usually either a tank top or an actual formal shirt. he is very messy in appearence, but its more of a put-together mess, because he's perfected the 'i've just rolled out of bed and i look great' look.
yeah all by yourself
YOU'RE ALL MESSED UP
MOTHER: georgia lily scott - 43 - fashion designer.
FATHER: daniel james scott - 45 - buisness man.
SIBLINGS: none.
OTHER RELEVANT FAMILY: none.
HISTORY: jem was born on halloween night, in 1992. as a little boy, he would constantly be trying to fit in with the other kids, changing his personality quickly to match with them, desperate to have friends. as he got older, however, it became less of trying to fit in with other kids, and more impressing everyone around him. he grew less dependant on friends, and became more of a loner. but he wasn't ignored, or invisable, he was one of the most popular people in the school. it was his own choice to keep other people at bay. he simply never found anyone quite up to his standards of friendship.
at school, he would copy off other's tests just to scrape by on his exams, never doing any work for himself. he also found that he was an extremely good performer in the school drama department, being able to mimick somebody else's personality, voice and body language perfectly, without any effort at all.
being the son of a famous fashion designer, he was always in with the right style, and with his model-esque looks, and his connections, he was quickly accepted into an agency. he was constantly changing his appearence to keep up with the industry, even more than anyone else would. quite often, he would imitate other's style and appearence as well, which irritated some people. soon, he became one of the most widely known models in the world. of course, it got to his head, and being extremely self-centered even before he was a model, this just made him all the more vain.
after a night on the town with some of his associates, he stumbled drunkenly home, but he never made it back. instead, he was taken to bellafields, and he's been here two years.
i was losing myself
TO SOMEBODY ELSE
OOC NAME: louise.
AGE: 14.
AREA: northern ireland.
CODEWORD: clue:whatdoilike? readtherules.
RP SAMPLE: can be from another site. must meet word count.
joey woke up early, for once, tangled in his itchy bedcovers, very nearly sleeping on the floor. the top half of his long, lean body was curled up beside his pillow, the other half almost kneeling on the hardwood floor. he wiped his mouth lazily, cleaning away some of the drool that had collected there when he was asleep. he scrubbed a hand through his short, curly hair, and yawned, uncurling himself from his bedsheets and standing up, stretching.
part of the reson he had woken up so early was because he knew he had some kind of therapy appointment early thise morning. he had specifically asked for it to be sometime in the afternoon or the evening, because he was usually dead to the world until at least noon, but the doctor who was in charge of the appointments hated him, because he had (unsuccessfully) tried to grope him in his office. apparently, not all men liked that. but joey couldn't help that he had a certain charm, which he liked to make the most of, to use to his advantage.
another reason why joey was up so early, was hat he had a serious craving to get high. he really didn't care what drugs he used, as long as it got him good and fucked. he stumbled around his bedroom, and pulled on a random set of clothing, all brightly neon coloured. he didn't really care what he wore, he looked good in everything, he didn't see the need to colour-coordinate. he itched the red rash that was slowly starting to appear on his arm, a sign of withdrawal. his addiction had gotten to a point where he couldn't go a day without getting high, and he hadn't had a fix in about twelve hours.
joey made his way along to the shared bathrooms, an ounce of cocaine burning a hole in his pocket. the doctors knew he had drugs, they knew he sold them as well, but it seemed as if they couldn't really give a fuck. occasionally, the odd doctor would ask him to sell them something, so they couldn't really say anything, for fear of him telling on them. they couldn't lose their jobs. as soon as he arrived at the bathrooms, he spotted a man, about his age, washing his hands furiously in the bathroom sink. he seemed to be rubbing them red raw, as if trying to wash some invisable dirt away.
joey wasn't stupid, infact, he was quite clever, and he had seen this before, on many patients. the man obviously had some sort of obsessive compulsive disorder. there had to be something wrong if he had to wipe blood off after he washed his hands. joey shrugged, and stood behind him, obviously checking him out. joey wasn't known for his subtleness, the would flirt shamlessly till he got what he wanted. he wouldn't say he was addicted to sex, he just...enjoyed pleasure, and enjoyed giving it to people as well.
the man was long, and thin, matching joey's own height, which was a task in itself, as he usually towered over everybody. he couldn't see his face at the start, but as the man turned around to throw something in the bin, joey smirked. he looked so young, with a babyface, but it didn't bother him one bit. he could definately see himself hooking up with him, and he decided to persue the matter, after he got his fix, of course.
joey sat in one of the cubicles, not bothering to shut the door, and pulled out the little bag filled with white powder, hands shaking with the need for the drug. he poured the cocaine onto the toilet seat, messily cutting it into some lines, snorting all of them expertly. he tilted his head back, feeling the relief and relaxation wash over him, as he felt the drug flow through his body and his system. he didn't even really get a high from drugs anymore, they were more of a necessity. he felt different if he wasn't totally fucked, rather than the other way around. leaning heavily on the doorframe of the bathroom stall, rubbing his nose, he turned to the man again, a small smirk on his face.
"so. you're hot, i'm hot. wanna fuck?"
part of the reson he had woken up so early was because he knew he had some kind of therapy appointment early thise morning. he had specifically asked for it to be sometime in the afternoon or the evening, because he was usually dead to the world until at least noon, but the doctor who was in charge of the appointments hated him, because he had (unsuccessfully) tried to grope him in his office. apparently, not all men liked that. but joey couldn't help that he had a certain charm, which he liked to make the most of, to use to his advantage.
another reason why joey was up so early, was hat he had a serious craving to get high. he really didn't care what drugs he used, as long as it got him good and fucked. he stumbled around his bedroom, and pulled on a random set of clothing, all brightly neon coloured. he didn't really care what he wore, he looked good in everything, he didn't see the need to colour-coordinate. he itched the red rash that was slowly starting to appear on his arm, a sign of withdrawal. his addiction had gotten to a point where he couldn't go a day without getting high, and he hadn't had a fix in about twelve hours.
joey made his way along to the shared bathrooms, an ounce of cocaine burning a hole in his pocket. the doctors knew he had drugs, they knew he sold them as well, but it seemed as if they couldn't really give a fuck. occasionally, the odd doctor would ask him to sell them something, so they couldn't really say anything, for fear of him telling on them. they couldn't lose their jobs. as soon as he arrived at the bathrooms, he spotted a man, about his age, washing his hands furiously in the bathroom sink. he seemed to be rubbing them red raw, as if trying to wash some invisable dirt away.
joey wasn't stupid, infact, he was quite clever, and he had seen this before, on many patients. the man obviously had some sort of obsessive compulsive disorder. there had to be something wrong if he had to wipe blood off after he washed his hands. joey shrugged, and stood behind him, obviously checking him out. joey wasn't known for his subtleness, the would flirt shamlessly till he got what he wanted. he wouldn't say he was addicted to sex, he just...enjoyed pleasure, and enjoyed giving it to people as well.
the man was long, and thin, matching joey's own height, which was a task in itself, as he usually towered over everybody. he couldn't see his face at the start, but as the man turned around to throw something in the bin, joey smirked. he looked so young, with a babyface, but it didn't bother him one bit. he could definately see himself hooking up with him, and he decided to persue the matter, after he got his fix, of course.
joey sat in one of the cubicles, not bothering to shut the door, and pulled out the little bag filled with white powder, hands shaking with the need for the drug. he poured the cocaine onto the toilet seat, messily cutting it into some lines, snorting all of them expertly. he tilted his head back, feeling the relief and relaxation wash over him, as he felt the drug flow through his body and his system. he didn't even really get a high from drugs anymore, they were more of a necessity. he felt different if he wasn't totally fucked, rather than the other way around. leaning heavily on the doorframe of the bathroom stall, rubbing his nose, he turned to the man again, a small smirk on his face.
"so. you're hot, i'm hot. wanna fuck?"
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