Post by SILAS JAMES UNDERWOOD on Jun 17, 2011 1:15:42 GMT -5
SILAS JAMES UNDERWOOD
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NICKNAMES: he generally just goes by james or underwood. he introduces himself as jay, and generally wants to be called as such.
AGE: seventeen
BIRTHDAY: october thirtieth
ORIENTATION: homosexual
MEMBER GROUP: highschooler
PLAY-BY: mikey way
EYES: chocolate brown, relatively round and feminine, he usually wears glasses.
HAIR: he usually has it cut just past his chin and it’s usually a medium brown colour, though he does dye it darker sometimes.
HEIGHT: 5’9”
WEIGHT: 145lb
BODY TYPE: soft and thin, he tends to look smaller than he is
TATTOOS?: no
PIERCINGS?: no
SCARS?: a few on his arms and hands, just small ones from nicks and other things. aasily concealed.
OTHER: his eyes tend to be extremely empty; so much so that people have said before that he seems to have no soul
LIKES:
- being around crazy people/being the sane one in a group
- quiet
- not being the center of attention
- being the only one who knows what his motives are
- books
- tea
- british accents
- being called jay
- plants
DISLIKES:
- obnoxious people
- anything disruptive
- having others solve his problems
- fire/hot things
- spicy food
- bright colours
- his first name
SECRETS:
- he’s a sadomasochist
- he cannot stand bugs, not that they scare him
- he’s a lightweight and has an incredibly weak stomach
FEARS:
- dogs
- the dark
HABITS:
- he likes to look at his wrist like he’s wearing a watch at regular intervals. he doesn’t even own a watch.
- everything must be perfectly straight around him when he arrives and when he leaves.
- he always walks in a perfect four/four time
QUIRKS:
- his left eye twitches when he’s nervous or annoyed.
- he’s OCD about numbers, meaning he always must know the time and exact values of things
- he recoils from any physical touch
- he loves plants, and grows them constantly. they all have names and he usually has at least one with him.
PERSONALITY:
James is a sensitive, overly nervous boy who tends to hide behind a strong, stable mask of absolute coldness. Even his eyes these days no longer show his underlying emotions and motives. He tends toward needing complete order in his life or he has a mental breakdown. He’s controlling and a bit sociopathic, but he still has a wonderful memory and a strong loyalty to friends. However, his memory does mean that he holds a grudge and he’ll almost always get his revenge. Whether it be with passive aggression or simply aggression.
MOTHER: mira kelladry jasper, thirty, reporter, alive
FATHER: maxwell justin underwood, forty-seven, ceo, alive
SIBLINGS: bryan clark underwood, half-brother, nineteen, works at little boy blue coffee house, alive
OTHER: meridian ella underwood, stepmother, forty-nine, works at maxwell’s company, deceased
PETS: his plants… a complete list would take too long
HOMETOWN: last resort, wyoming, united states of america
HISTORY:
Jay was born in Last Resort to a thirteen year old girl named Mira. His father was twenty, and Mira’s parents kicked her out. His father, Maxwell, wouldn’t take Mira in, and their ways parted there, but he did take James and raised him alongside his other son, Bryan, who was two years older and born to a different woman; his wife, Meridian.
Jay could never remember his real mother, but Meridian raised him as her own, until she died when Jason was ten. Bryan was devastated, and turned both Jay and Bryan into the darker versions of themselves that they are today. The two of them grew a lot closer during that period; like real brothers and not the strangers they’d been before.
In ninth grade, Jay had finally finished his experimental period with his sexuality and was pretty sure he was gay. That was when Alexander came along; some guy who was just your average everyday player. He took Jay’s heart and they had a relationship that lasted until Jay was told that they were moving; just a few weeks ago. That was really when everything fell apart. Alex had been cheating on Jay with some girl from the next town over for the last year of their relationship, and Jay was, too give a massive understatement, furious. He didn’t show it, though, he just coldly dumped Alex and refused to give him another chance.
He’s still got a raw heart, but Bryan’s been helping him through it. He’s just now starting to warm up to the new environment; Hayfield, Mississippi. He’s still quiet and hasn’t made any friends or really taken the time to meet anyone yet, but he’s starting to get into the idea that it might be all right to know the people around him.
RP SAMPLE: this is a bit on the long side for me…
Altan felt that prickly sensation of being watched. The one that had become entirely normal. Altan used to be scared of that feeling. That was before he’d moved—been shipped, really—out of Albania. Back then, people watching you meant that you were about to get shot or jumped or cut. Altan almost missed that simplicity. When he knew that if he didn’t duck when his instincts told him to, he was dead. Or that if he shot someone it was only in the name of his boss. Or that he and Silver had each other’s backs, and the rest of the gang’s. Then they’d been sold, and Altan couldn’t let his little precious brother be sold into being some sort of disgusting pet for some businessman or big shot CEO. Then all eyes were on the new kid who could shoot like the best of them, and who couldn’t fit in. Even the foster parents watched him later, with that look of fear. That muttering of ‘are we sure he’s okay?’ or ‘that had to mentally scar him’ or ‘what if he turns on his own parents or his own brother?’. It disgusted Altan; the suspicion he’d ever do anything to his family. Or his friends, for that matter. Then came school; that had to be one of the worse tortures in Altan’s life. The stares, the incessant chatter and eyes that searched his soul for who he was, and what box he fit into.
School.Thatwas where he’d learned not to be afraid of being watched. Where it had become so commonplace to be sorted and looked at and dissected by eye-scalpels almost constantly. This lack of fear scared him; back in Albania, in New York, fear kept you alive; suspicion kept you sane because you knew that no one but your gang—and not them sometimes—could be trusted. He pushed on; because this was the best reality for his brother, and maybe him too. Still, the feeling of not being scared of being watched in the park that day, did scare him a little in and of itself. He shivered, then continued feeding the ducks.
He jumped severely, hand grasping for a concealed gun that he didn’t have in his coat, when the one who’d been watching him was suddenly sitting next to him.
“Hello, I uh noticed you were feeding ducks. I’m Jae-Hwa, don’t we go to the same school?”
Sighing, and settling down; sufficiently happy that a question like that was totally innocent and not at all murderous, Altan thought about a response, and examined his new companion.
“Yes, I was feeding ducks. And still am,”he began, his voice steady now,“You look and sound familiar, so I guess we do. Are you the Korean kid? I’m Altan, by the way.”
favorite colour is prussian blue.
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