Post by Asher Rinehart on Sept 3, 2010 16:46:03 GMT -5
* OOC Info*
Name : Robin (Roberto, Bob the Tomato, Batman's Steward...)
Age : fifteen
Experience : like... a year or two?
Characters : asher would be my first. =D
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With moonbeam windows
With moonbeam windows
Name : Asher Michael Rinehart
Age : sixteen
D.O.B : October 21st
Playby : Alessandro (the sex) De Marco
Occupation/Grade : McDonald's employee on the weekends, junior during the week
And with wheels of stars *
[/size][li]Asher has a squat face and a square jaw. His nose has a small hook in it near his eyes. Ah, his eyes. Chocolate brown and always searching. He's always clean shaven... doesn't care much for stubble or mustaches, mustaches least of all. Freckles dot his face in random groups -- thirteen, to be exact, five of which are clustered on his cheek just right of his nose. There always seem to be circles under his eyes, or at least one dark crescent-shaped line beneath each of them, most likely due to his partying habits. He's also infamous for his dumbo ears. They are rather large and tend to stick away from his head.[/li][li] Asher stands at 6'2'', a tall young man. Tall and lanky. He doesn't weight much, balancing the scale around 165 libs, but the weight he has is all muscle. He has the wiry kind of muscle that you can't really see until he flexes. Veins tunnel through his forearms. Asher's look like they wrapped around them, and then God slapped a thin layer of skin over top. Thanks to his Italian blood, he's perpetually golden-brown. Yes, tan. And, thanks to the Californian sun, his once dark brown hair has lightened, acquiring some sandy streaks. Asher keeps it cut in layers, always perfectly quaffed. Bangs sweep across his forehead from right left to right, and when partaking in strenuous activity, they often fall into his eyes.
[[ this was my first time writing a legit appearance section. please excuse the hardcore flunk. ]][/size][/blockquote]
So hush you little ones and have no fear
Likes : the ladies, eating, skating, playing the geetar, pizza day, music class, assemblies, filed trips, not having homework, gym
Dislikes : homework, attending classes, teachers, his job, - the employee discount is exempt from this hatred, of course -, rain, extreme hot or cold temperatures, his nagging parents, formal wear
Habbits : tapping, dozing off when other people talk for extended periods of time, cracking his knuckles
Flaws : cocky, overconfident, would flirt with a mop, reckless, egotistical
Pet Peeves : meat-headed jocks, when teachers drag their chalk along the board and it squeaks, when people chew gum and talk at the same time
Strengths : branching out and making friends, physical strength, charming, receptive, loyal
Weaknesses : controlling his - ahem - "manly urges", using the manners his mother taught him, watching his sailor mouth, staying focused for more than five minutes, listening
[/li][li]Oh, you know, Asher's your typical teenage douchebag. He's constantly confusing his favorite appendage with his brain -- staring at legs (and anything above) when ladies walk past, caring less about steady relationships and more about getting in those pants... That kind of thing. He's also a cocky egomaniac. Somewhere in his convoluted brain, the idea hatched that he was the king of the universe and everything revolved around him. Therefore, Asher barrels into things without thinking them through, already assuming he can handle it. Most times, he proves himself correct, which only helps to swell his ego. He picks on those lower down on the food chain than himself and squanders his allowance throwing parties. When it comes to school work, he's a complete slacker. He does have a brain.. he just can't be bothered to use it. He's also a jock. Basketball is his sport of choice, since he's tall and can no longer surf. He's a very over-the-top person. Anything he feels is worth doing, he overdoes. Finally, he's extremely defensive. If anyone looks at him crosseyed, he'll beat the shit out of him. [/size][/blockquote]
The man in the moon he is the engineer
[/center][/li][li]Asher grew up in Malibu, California. Since his parents worked all the time, he was practically raised by a babysitter. She made him listen to Mozart tapes when he napped and watch retarded television shows like Dora the Explora. To this day, he will spout random sayings in Spanish. It was a love-hate relationship between him and his sitter, though. Asher was a cool kid, and he made a pretty adorable baby, so his sitter was nice sometimes, but then, when bedtime turned around, she turned into a screeching psychopath, occasionally throwing Asher over her shoulder and dragging him to bed (rape much?).
Once he grew up some, Asher was weaned off his sitter and experienced the life of a free man. At school, he made lots of friends, falling immediately in with the popular crowd. Those guys invited him to the beach with them after school, thus introducing him to surfing. He tried it once, and it was love at first shred. Ever since then, he's been a surfer boy.
The past year, Asher's father's boss transfered him from Malibu to Chicago. Asher had to say goodbye to the sun and the sand and the waves and exchange it for the wind and the deep-dish pizza. He lost all his friends, but was confident he'd make new ones. When he met with the principal of his new school to complete the transfer, he was surprised to find the man in casual attire. With a beard, no less. It was mind-blowing. One thing was certain: he was gonna like it there.
[[ ew. that failed so hard. x.o ]][/size][/blockquote]
*The railroad track it is a moonbeam bright*
[/size]Family [black];;[/black]
Anthony Rinehart, 38, accountant
Simone Rinehart, 38, nurse
no siblings
no other relevant relatives
scruff, bulldog
That leads right up into the starry night
RolePlay sample :
Oh good. She recognized him. It would have been painfully awkward (and completely cover-blowing) if Rochelle didn't remember him at all. And a part of him would be crushed. You can't be tight with someone growing up and then not feel a thing when they completely forget about you. Rochelle questioned him with his name in return, but when Asher said her name again, she picked up on what he was trying to and decided to play along. Thank god. Asher was risking his neck in doing this. If she blew the whole thing up in their faces, it'd be more than Shell who turned into puppy chow. Grim humor, but it made Asher smile. He bit the smile back just as Rochelle offered him one of her own. It was a wobbly one, one that betrayed her nerves. Based on the story that ensued, Asher got the feeling that was for a reason. She was rambling about some bird, sounding particularly bubble-headed. Asher repressed a facepalm. You had to say her name? he mentally scolded himself. If Kip and Peter take this to Ember, you are so dead! Which they will, if Rochelle keeps this up... Asher made a face and returned his attention to Kip and Peter. "See what I have to deal with?" he asked. "Just be glad you aren't assigned to newbie-watch." He finished his bluff and directed the two of them down the hall. An anxiety-explosion ensued. Asher shook his hand, his knuckle erupting in pain from the impact with the wall. He may be able to punch holes in rock, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt.
When he turned around again, he discovered that Rochelle had given in to gravity. She sat in a pathetic heap, her face buried in her arms. Images flooded Asher's mind - flashbacks to what hadn't been a completely unfortunate childhood. Call him crazy, but Asher had actually had fun growing up in the shifter colony. Most of the shifters were actually really nice people, despite the fact that they had a habit of feasting on human flesh... Anyway. The images swimming through his pool of thought were of him and Rochelle both, talking and laughing and having a damn good time. Things were so much easier back then. If only she'd stayed. She would have been turned for real, and she wouldn't have to fake it. A strange mix of guilt and betrayal flooded him. Guilt for the fact that he was shouting at her, and betrayal because... well... she deserted him. What, he wasn't good enough for her? She had to up and run off into the wilderness where she could've been killed? But whatever. The Rochelle who'd run away was temporarily unavailable. The girl before him was the Rochelle who was still as insecure and vulnerable as before, all but reduced to tears by fright. Mentally cursing himself out, Asher sat down in the dirt next to her and put his arm around her, drawing her to his chest and gently rubbing her shoulder. "Shh," he said soothingly. "The big bad wolves are gone."
Rochelle cut short his pathetic attempt at being comforting by launching into an apology. Asher smirked. Get in trouble? That was the understatement of the century. Try "be rent limb from limb," "be permanently exiled from the pack," or "be jumped by the entire pack all at once." "Trouble" didn't even begin to cover the punishments the, ahem, "higher authorities" could dream up. Oh, Rochelle also hadn't wanted to come to the cave. Ouch. Her friend dared her to sneak in and steal something. Double ouch. Not only had Asher been disowned, he'd also been stolen from. All in a single sentence. But it wasn't true. Asher was strong and goofy, yeah. That didn't make him some meat-headed moron. Then came the doe-eyed look she always unleashed on people when bending them to her will. Triple ouch. She thought he was weak enough to crumble under her gaze? Okay.. he might have been, if she hadn't insulted his intelligence first. Asher returned the pouty face, only exaggerating it. He stuck his bottom lip out as far as it would go without revealing teeth and widened his eyes. Holding the look for a second, he then rearranged his features into a stone-faced glower. "Really Shell?" he asked, using her nickname because he was lazy and "Rochelle" was a mouthful. "I'm not thick. I know you only make that face when you're trying to cover a lie." He released her and stood, dusting off the seat of his jeans. Then, with as much disappointment in his voice as he could muster, he finished, "I grew up with you, remember?"
Asher turned away sharply, as though he couldn't stand the sight of her. That might be how he felt. He wasn't sure. He'd never had a male role-model to coach him through teenagerhood, so it was quite possible he was still in that awkward stage of adolescence, trying to figure himself out. Likely, as a matter of fact. He bit his right forefinger, then scuffed the dirt floor with his shoe and began pacing. The memories were coming back in a rush. With each new one, Asher bit down harder. Eventually, his canines broke skin, beads of blood forming around them. He didn't mind wounds so much, what with his accelerated healing and all that jazz. Finally, he had enough thoughts gathered to spit back some monologue at Rochelle. He stopped and turned to face her, holding her gaze. "Enough with the cheap cover stories. You're one of them, aren't you?" It was a rhetorical question - Asher already had that much worked out. "You're one of the.. what do they call those things... fugies! You're one of the fugitives. You're not here 'cause of some stupid dare with one of your stupid friends. You're here to steal supplies from my family." Seriously. Like it or not (Asher leaned more toward the former), the pack was his family now. If Rochelle stole supplies from one of them, she stole from all. Including him. "You guys have it so hard out there that you think it's okay to just walk in and take from us, don't you? Well guess what -- being a shifter isn't a fucking ball. We get to eat once a year, unless we're stupid enough to go hunting. I have to put up with pain every night and every morning. I always feel like I'm starving to death because I never get enough food."
His voice began to shake as more emotion poured in. "You know one of your little fugitive buddies killed my best mate? Killed him. Stabbed him right in the gut with a knife. I have to be around death and dying every day, and you want to come in and try to steal what little compensation I get? Do you really suck that much at hunting?" He took a breath, interrupting the stream of rhetorical questions. "And you don't apologize until you get caught. You can't even like... say 'hi' or 'how are you doing?' or anything." His breath was coming in labored gasps now. Maybe a little too much emotion... He hadn't realized how much it hurt him when Rochelle left. She used to feel like part of him... family. And one look at her was all it took to return that feeling. But did she care? No, apparently not. All she could think of was, "Oh my god, I'm gonna die!" Taking a deep breath, Asher forced out the last of his rant. "You could've at least said goodbye."
When he turned around again, he discovered that Rochelle had given in to gravity. She sat in a pathetic heap, her face buried in her arms. Images flooded Asher's mind - flashbacks to what hadn't been a completely unfortunate childhood. Call him crazy, but Asher had actually had fun growing up in the shifter colony. Most of the shifters were actually really nice people, despite the fact that they had a habit of feasting on human flesh... Anyway. The images swimming through his pool of thought were of him and Rochelle both, talking and laughing and having a damn good time. Things were so much easier back then. If only she'd stayed. She would have been turned for real, and she wouldn't have to fake it. A strange mix of guilt and betrayal flooded him. Guilt for the fact that he was shouting at her, and betrayal because... well... she deserted him. What, he wasn't good enough for her? She had to up and run off into the wilderness where she could've been killed? But whatever. The Rochelle who'd run away was temporarily unavailable. The girl before him was the Rochelle who was still as insecure and vulnerable as before, all but reduced to tears by fright. Mentally cursing himself out, Asher sat down in the dirt next to her and put his arm around her, drawing her to his chest and gently rubbing her shoulder. "Shh," he said soothingly. "The big bad wolves are gone."
Rochelle cut short his pathetic attempt at being comforting by launching into an apology. Asher smirked. Get in trouble? That was the understatement of the century. Try "be rent limb from limb," "be permanently exiled from the pack," or "be jumped by the entire pack all at once." "Trouble" didn't even begin to cover the punishments the, ahem, "higher authorities" could dream up. Oh, Rochelle also hadn't wanted to come to the cave. Ouch. Her friend dared her to sneak in and steal something. Double ouch. Not only had Asher been disowned, he'd also been stolen from. All in a single sentence. But it wasn't true. Asher was strong and goofy, yeah. That didn't make him some meat-headed moron. Then came the doe-eyed look she always unleashed on people when bending them to her will. Triple ouch. She thought he was weak enough to crumble under her gaze? Okay.. he might have been, if she hadn't insulted his intelligence first. Asher returned the pouty face, only exaggerating it. He stuck his bottom lip out as far as it would go without revealing teeth and widened his eyes. Holding the look for a second, he then rearranged his features into a stone-faced glower. "Really Shell?" he asked, using her nickname because he was lazy and "Rochelle" was a mouthful. "I'm not thick. I know you only make that face when you're trying to cover a lie." He released her and stood, dusting off the seat of his jeans. Then, with as much disappointment in his voice as he could muster, he finished, "I grew up with you, remember?"
Asher turned away sharply, as though he couldn't stand the sight of her. That might be how he felt. He wasn't sure. He'd never had a male role-model to coach him through teenagerhood, so it was quite possible he was still in that awkward stage of adolescence, trying to figure himself out. Likely, as a matter of fact. He bit his right forefinger, then scuffed the dirt floor with his shoe and began pacing. The memories were coming back in a rush. With each new one, Asher bit down harder. Eventually, his canines broke skin, beads of blood forming around them. He didn't mind wounds so much, what with his accelerated healing and all that jazz. Finally, he had enough thoughts gathered to spit back some monologue at Rochelle. He stopped and turned to face her, holding her gaze. "Enough with the cheap cover stories. You're one of them, aren't you?" It was a rhetorical question - Asher already had that much worked out. "You're one of the.. what do they call those things... fugies! You're one of the fugitives. You're not here 'cause of some stupid dare with one of your stupid friends. You're here to steal supplies from my family." Seriously. Like it or not (Asher leaned more toward the former), the pack was his family now. If Rochelle stole supplies from one of them, she stole from all. Including him. "You guys have it so hard out there that you think it's okay to just walk in and take from us, don't you? Well guess what -- being a shifter isn't a fucking ball. We get to eat once a year, unless we're stupid enough to go hunting. I have to put up with pain every night and every morning. I always feel like I'm starving to death because I never get enough food."
His voice began to shake as more emotion poured in. "You know one of your little fugitive buddies killed my best mate? Killed him. Stabbed him right in the gut with a knife. I have to be around death and dying every day, and you want to come in and try to steal what little compensation I get? Do you really suck that much at hunting?" He took a breath, interrupting the stream of rhetorical questions. "And you don't apologize until you get caught. You can't even like... say 'hi' or 'how are you doing?' or anything." His breath was coming in labored gasps now. Maybe a little too much emotion... He hadn't realized how much it hurt him when Rochelle left. She used to feel like part of him... family. And one look at her was all it took to return that feeling. But did she care? No, apparently not. All she could think of was, "Oh my god, I'm gonna die!" Taking a deep breath, Asher forced out the last of his rant. "You could've at least said goodbye."
So come you little ones and run up the stairs
[/size]How did you find us : zee, ellen, & em
Best part of the site : Ima have to say the skin. It's a blue esplosion. <3
Have you read the rules : TEAM ADMIN PWNS YOUR FACE
Put on your 'jamas and say your prayers
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