Roleplay Characters
12 years & 12 days ago
10th Nov 2012 18:35 Gilmore sat and stood up out of bed and stretched, pulling off her pajama top and bottoms and throughing on her usual black baggie jeans, covered in chains and pockets, and her plain old black t-shirt and her big 'favorite' striped zipper hoodie that looked like it came from a boy friend. She pulled back her black, bleach tipped hair into a low pony tail. The tips of her hair appear unevenly dipped in bleach, making the appearence of white flames at the end of her black hair lined by an the color of fire embers. She did not bleach her hair nor did she purposely make it look the way she did, it was just how her hair grew out, it was a family trait, along with her gift of fire minipulation and creation. She took her key chain, which ironically held no keys, and shoved it into her pocket. This key chain was uniquely made up of fun key chains from some of her favorite animes. She had one of Lord Deaths mask from Soul Eater, one of Sakura's feathers and one of Mokona from Tsubasha, one of Ciel with his demon eye showing and Tanaka's cup from Black Butler, a YuGiOh! card key chain and countless others. Sometimes she would hook it onto the chains hanging on her jeans, but today, she was just tired and careless. She pulled her up her rainbow knee high toe socks and slipped her feet into her favorite Converse. She walked over from her dresser to her night table and picked up her YuGiOh! deck with a yawn and began to sift through it. She then shoved it into one of her many pants pockets and walked out of her bedroom and slowly towards the kitchen.
Gilmore has been living alone for about 2 years now. She formerly lived with her parent but both had died. Her parents were what some people may call cool. They were very relaxed about everything Gilmore did and her grades and such. Her mother would smoke with her sometimes but started after Gilmore did. Her father drank alcohol sparingly and Gilmore would on occasion. Two years ago on this day her parents died in a DUI, thankfully niether of her parents were drinking that night so the blame was placed on the other driver who had a pile of empty beer bottles in his passenger seat. Gilmore does not remember much from that day, except that the rest of the family said it was her parents who drank, and caused the accedent and being asked and agreeing to press charges. She made a decent amount of money off the law suit so she was able to take care of herself. In honor of her parents she now only drinks and or smokes on very rare occasion, to avoid causing the death of another innocent childs parents.
Gilmore can appear to be overly friendly but she is rather shy before you get to know her and she is very causios at times just tries not to appear it. This is because of her second power, a premonition. These come randomely as visions when she is both asleep and awake. During then there is always an indication of when it is going to take place. The only time she can control having one is when she looks into someone elses eyes, the only flaw is this allows her to see a piece of their future, not her own.
As she got into the kitchen she pulled out a plastic cup and left it on the counter befor turning to open the fridge. She stared down the orange juice and the vadka bottle. It is the death of her parents anniversary, alcohol would help forget. She pulled out both bottles only putting a drop of vadka into the cup then filling it with orange juice. She drank it rather quickly, wiped her mouth on her sleeve and tossed the cup into the sink. She looked strait ahead, to be sure she didnt drink enough to make her any less sober. Once Gilmore determined her vision was clear she walked out her door and headed to the park.
Jason was up much earlier that morning. Dressed in his usual t-shirt and black jeans, he faced the day with with his hope filled emerald eyes. He turned the the mirror in the bathroom and pushed his short black hair back with gell to spike it up. He did not often wear his hair flat and when he did it meant he was ready to sleep. Jason was simple when it came to his appearence, he found it unimportant, as long as he looked neat. He appears to have tiger stripe tatoos all over his body except for his head, but these were not tatoos, these were on him since birth, along with his fangs. Jason tied his sneakers and began to walk out the door with his left fang hanging from his lips. As he shut the door behind him he looked up into the sky. He then looked down at his hand as he pulled something out of his pocket, a pendent. He unhooked the latch and held each side in a different hand. He examined it a moment the wrapped it around his neck and hooked it on, hanging from it was a tooth along with beads of sorts, made with a leather string, very tribal looking. His skin is a irect result of his shapeshift as a tiger. In his shapeshifted appearence he has a tuff of black hair on his head, usually a mess because the spikes look so much different on his tiger form. the stripes on the exact same spots as they are on his skin, but he does have stripes on his head, and as a tiger, his pendant is always present around his neck. This was great for friends, the tuff of hair and the pendant always expressed that he was not a wild tiger.
Jason was kind but arrogant. It may seem impossible but not for him. He always takes good care of who he cares about, and interigates anyone he considers a threat. He is never completely hostile unless he needs to be. He has a hard time calling people friends, because he would rather be an 'arrogant @$$' than admit to being close to someone. He tries to make it look like he cares less than he really does, so much so he rarely calls his closest friends more than acquaintances at times. He can prove to be very annoying. Jason tries his best to protect the people he cares about and sometimes fears losing them.
Jason was not known for his smile, infact some people know him for his lack there of. He leaned up against his door, still staring blankly into the sky, his expression stern, his face pale as always. Jason was always sociable and would smirk occationally, but smiling was never really an expression he used often. No one knows why he does not smile, no one was curious enough to ask. Even those closest to him do not know certian things. For instance, as a child, his father hated him. He called Jason a coward because he would rather run to fight another day than to fight until death. He hated his father for always beating up on him, but his mother on the other hand protected him and stood up for him. Jason's father had other motives to putting his spirits down. His father believed he was the product of an affair. Eventually his father could not take anymore, he left them, and took his income with him, leaving Jason to have to work to provide for himself and his mother. His mother worked while his father was home but Jason cared too much and with his father gone she would need a second job, so he got a few jobs instead.
When his mother did work, his father would not only slam him with words but would beat him senseless. He never scarred from these beatings, in fact he had a gift of rapid healing, allowing him to hide his past in healed wounds, and to avoid those who care about him worrying about him. No one knew anything about his father though, he made sure of that, but this mistreatment is what took his smile away. He does not speak of his father and since he left Jason has not seen him. He still cares for his mother and visits her often, but moved out to avoid burdening her. Not many people know that he takes care of his mother but that he has shared with few friends.
He sighed through his nose and pushed off the door with one leg and began to walk. Dark clouds started to roll over him and his eyes drifted to the ground beneath his feet. He stomped on the ground once and began to run as the clouds started to down pour. The clouds clusted around where he was staying and about a mile radius out. Not looking where he was headed he ran through the rain for a mile and a half before finding a clearing. Now soaked he stood in the sun just passed the clouds, panting, and his clothes dripping.
Tristen put on a suit of sorts as he always did, looking nicer than anyone else on the street. He always looked prestine, always neat, not a hair out of place. His light brown hair was straitened and down by gel. He carries around hand sanitizer just because can and he likes to keep clean. He never wore less than a suit jacket and nice pants, he certianly would wear more just to make himself look richer. Tristen walked to the kitchen of his house and looked around. His eyes, a crimson red, looked over everything. He then shook his head as though to say why whould I waist my time, and headed out with some cash to buy himself breakfast.
Tristen was born into a rich family, but he did not know his real parents until after they died, leaving him with a mansion and an more money that he could ever need. He started out in a foster home, and in that home, he was treated fairly. The parents took care of him, and he acted as a good fair child, obedient, a good kid in general. On his tenth birthday someone had come to the house, an adult who had asked for him. He listened to the man as he explained what he had been left with. "From the mansion down to its butlers, all yours good sir." As you could imagine he had chef, butlers, maids, his kitchen was practically like that of a resturant. His dining room, and ornate, and he was able to move in, though a minor. One butler 'fathered' him for a time, until he could make decisions on his own. With this new found power and money, Tristen became the typical rich snob. The 'I'm too good for you,' attitude about him. However, he could be a bit worse. He plucked out one of his maids eyes once, just for looking at him directly. He had become very cruel, just for fun, and yet the butlers maids and cooks remained loyal, no matter how much they hated it. He does not talk to many people, and likes to bribe people to get what he wants, as he has enough money to get him what ever he pleases. He refuses to allow anyone to look better than him, and refuses eben more so to be or even look andy less rich than he is. He is not a big people person and often was not liked because of the way he treated people.
Tristen walked with his nose in the air, heading toward an extrodinary diner for breakfast. He spotted the place from miles away. His eyes were no normal human eyes, they could spot an ant behind a bush in a grassy field from miles away. Not x-ray vision, per say, but a vision so keen he could see clear at distances and though obsticals that the normal human eye some times cannot even see up close. He had already looked at the menu as he walked, looking at one some one in the resturaunt had been examining. By the time he got there he had already decided on a meal. He was seated rather quickly as they were not crouded, he asked for the new fish breakfast, it was the most expencive item on the menu. He tasted it and spit it out and began complaining about the quality for the price. The waiter appologised and offered to lower the price, but he wouldnt stop until it was free. By the time he finished the waiter just wanted him out.
His other gift was obnoxious to say the least. Not only was he a brat, he was a brat with tools. His second gift was that of ice, allowing him to freeze people into place, allowing him to really beat up on anyone he pleased. Some people called him a sadist because of his bratty ways. He loved to freeze people into place and spank them, whip them, infact it was said he froze the maid he stole the eye from in place to take it.
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