Post by dylan myles richards on Sept 5, 2009 12:47:42 GMT -5
( icons by lkshkbrrl4life on caution! )
age and birthday ,[/color] 19 / June 22nd.
height ,[/color] 6'3"
body type ,[/color] Scrawny, stringy, ridiculously tall and slim. He's about 155lbs.
sexuality ,[/color] He likes the ladies - particularly the chubby ones. What - he's a more to love sort of man.
relationship status ,[/color] Single
play - by ,[/color] Stephan Haurolhm
group ,[/color] university student[/ul]
dislikes ,[/color] Winter - it's cold. Water - went whale-watching, and he didn't like the whales cause they were too big. Cooking - he fails. When his foods touch on his plate. The quiet. When people don't want to talk. Getting in trouble for talking. Getting in trouble in general. No sense of humor. Accidentally offending people. Driving. He crashed four times in one month, and his insurance is through the roof, so he sold off his car. Vegetarians. Not so much dislike, the dislike is cause he can't understand why someone wouldn't eat bacon. Puzzles. He gets frustrated. When people have dumb pet-peeves. Ugly weather. When he gets asked: "Did the bus come?" When he's waiting at a bus stop.
fears ,[/color] Whales. They're just so big. He went whale watching as a kid, and cried cause they got too close to the boat. Losing the ability to move around. Not cause he's afraid of not being mobile - he's afraid of the boredom. Drowning.
habits ,[/color] greets people with hugs. hugs people he first meets. doesn't let his foods touch on the plate. doesn't like the silence, and thus ruins it with his horrible singing voice, and equally bad air guitar.
flaws ,[/color] Very immature for his age, overly trusting, gets hurt easily, highly emotional, a bit annoying due to cheery antics, naive, innocent, talks at all the wrong times. He's also very comfortable with himself and giving hugs to anyone - making him fairly awkward towards other people if they're not into that.
personality ,[/color] Cheerful, loquacious, innocent, bubbly, immature, hyper, happy, spontaneous, unpredictable, optimistic, musically-inclined, very school-smart, sweetheart, loving, affectionate.[/ul]
FATHER: Roger Richards - 52 - Surgeon.
siblings ,[/color] Ian Richards - 22 - lawyer in training.
other family ,[/color] N/A
history ,[/color] Dylan Richards was born on the 22nd of June, exactly three years after his older brother, Ian. They share the 22nd of June as their birthday. While his parents wanted five children, this dream was crashed short when Dylan became quite a handful. He never slept at a decent hour, refused to eat his foods if they touched, and loved the attention, so would cry for the company. So his poor, young, exploited tired parents never had anymore children. Dylan's toddlerhood was fairly normal. His brother was mama's boy, and so Dylan took to hanging out with his dad. Becoming the child he could take to the Red Sox game, or fishing. It was actually pretty idealistic - on Saturdays, they'd head out on a family excursion. Whether it be the lake, the shore, a baseball game, or even Canada. And on Sundays, they'd go to church in the morning (with gameboys and pokemon games ready for the boredom) and afterwards head out for dinner. They never had much reason to be anything but happy.
That lasted all the way through Dylan's childhood, and still now. His father was a cosmetic surgeon with a very good reputation, and so they were well off. Dylan and his brother could therefore have the luxury of being sent to a private Catholic School. While the words 'private' and 'Catholic' automatically read as 'boring', the school was filled with a handful of rambunctious, loud, outgoing students with a knack of finding fun no matter what. Dylan had a wonderful time during his elementary school years. They all lived close enough to bike over, and play Nicky-Nicky-Nine-Doors, read comic books, play video games, swim in the creek. His best friend was Travis, and they were close enough that they'd always sign up for the same extra-curriculars in the summer, and pretend to be twin brothers. They looked nothing alike, and had most people fooled. His entire 30 kid graduating class were extremely close, and Dylan had no reason to feel unloved or unwanted.
In High School, he again was sent to Catholic Private school, and maintained best friend relationships with all his peers. It was in his eleventh and twelfth years of education that Dylan began to feel a bit restless. He wanted to get out of Maine, and some place far away. It was then he decided to apply to universities all over the United States and Canada. He applied to UCLA, Browns, Dartmouth, Princeton, Yale, and Queens and McGill in Canada, as well as one in Hawaii. He got accepted into all, but opted for the school in Hawaii, just to say he goes to school in Hawaii. And he found that the premed programs in the other schools just didn't seem as cool without the added bonus of being in Hawaii. He arrived on campus only a few weeks ago, and is looking forward to the best years of his life. [/ul]
age ,[/color] legal in alberta, canada
.years of experience ,[/color] 5 i thinkk. its been awhile.
gender ,[/color] male.
anything else ,[/color] uhh. this is going to sound horrifically... horrible. but the only reason i found this site was because the person who posted the thread up on caution's name was: WHAS UP, I'M BRUNO ?! I approve of the name. : D.
role playing sample ,[/color][/ul][/size]
Todd had hit absolute rock bottom. It was like he was in a hole that got deeper every time he tried to hoist himself back up, and now he was too far from the top to get his finger tips to grab the edge. Near every thought he had was self-deprecating - something that made him realize how atrocious of a person he was and made him feel worse. And a mind like his, he never stopped thinking. At first, it was his perfectionism whirling out of control, then depression, then insomnia, then binge-eating, then anxiety issues, now cutting. Up and down his right arm lay scorching red cuts. None were particularly deep, but it'd given him the effect he'd wanted. When he cut, it hurt, yeah. But it distracted him. A bit of physical pain to temporarily stop his mind from thinking. Of course he felt about five times worse an hour later, but it gave him temporary perspective, and that hour was well worth it.
Even he knew he needed help really soon. There was only one person in the world the eighteen-year-old would consider telling, but she currently resided in a hospital, fighting her own battle. Rebecca had enough to deal with, and he wouldn't pester her with his petty problems. Todd couldn't ever understand why he always felt so down, like every weight in the world lay atop his chest, crushing him down. So what if his parents were assholes and his father was secretly having an affair? So what his sister was in the hospital fighting Leukemia - the child killer. So what the only time he ever spoke to people was when they were forced to in school or at work? It was nothing, and Todd had labelled his wide-array of psychological issues as a plea for attention. How pathetic was he to think about how pathetic he was when real people dealt with real problems just fine, and he couldn't even handle himself? He was pathetic, a waste, a fuck-up. And possibly the most lonely person in Buxton, Maine.
Todd had then resorted to an old time hobby of sorts. Help other people to make himself feel better. It was pathetic, but at least he could try to make them better, get them back on track. It gave him some purpose in an otherwise complete waste of life. And so, when Mia called Todd, having no one else to turn to, Todd set up something at the park, rather late. From what he'd heard, she'd gone through hell. Losing her brother, having a best friend in the hospital, having one person she turned to move across country, leaving her single, and a handful of other things. It was bad enough dealing with any at once, let alone spontaneously. Todd felt for her, really really bad, and naturally assumed when she phoned he'd again be baggage carrier, the advice-giver. It was all he ever was, and all he'd ever be.
He sat awkwardly on a swing facing the street, not actually swinging at all. Clad in a dark hoodie despite unseasonably warm weather, and dark jeans, he tried to recall the last time he'd truly talked to Mia. Without talking about cancer, without it being a problem... It must have been at least four months, around the time he started sabotaging all his friendships. Todd hadn't intentionally destroyed the weak ties he had to people, but his lack of interest in anything, uncalled-for blatant rudeness, and those few friends deserted him. He hadn't had a proper conversation with anyone not family, sickness, or work-oriented for about the same lapse of time. He'd gotten so bored that summer that he'd decided to find himself not one, but two full-time summer jobs and had moved out of the White household. No one knew that yet, apart from his family and landlord. And Rebecca, she didn't know yet either.
He hadn't realized it had been so long. Since the last time he had talked to Mia, he'd put on a good fifteen-twenty pounds. He'd lost all interest in anything someone his age would find cool, especially girls. Most of all, he'd given up trying to hide it. The well-composed face he'd spent years perfecting, and just as long acting was striped away, revealing a permanent solemn expression. He never smiled anymore, or rather, faked it, and even his father whom he hadn't spoken to in about five years noticed. It when then that Todd packed up and left. Todd was down and no longer had the will to try to pick himself up, nor did he allow anyone to give him a hand.
He checked the watch on his wrist, reaching 12:28. Mia would be here any moment. Todd had opted to talk to her late, in a place she'd probably spend little time in anymore. It assured privacy, and his choice in location was to have her feel somewhat... safe. In a way. Parks were meant for children and maybe going somewhere where remembering the bliss of childhood was possible, she'd feel more comfortable. Todd waved half across the park as he spotted Mia coming towards him. He knew he was far from being composed himself, but maybe, hopefully, she wouldn't notice.
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