Post by tree on Oct 26, 2010 7:02:46 GMT -5
[JACOB FARIS HEMSWORTH]'S BEEN OUT NOW FOR 7 DAYS
[/color][/font]FUNNY HOW HE THOUGHT THE PRICE HAD BEEN PAID[/center]
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ON A PAST HE HATES TO TALK ABOUT
[/color]IT'S EVERYTHING WRONG ABOUT HIM[/font][/center]
NICKNAMES: Jake
AGE: Twenty two
SEXUAL ORIENTATION: heterosexual.
CANON OR ORIGINAL:Original[/color][/font]
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HE GOES HOME TO A BATTLEFIELD
[/color]AND STARTS TO DRINK AS SOME KIND OF A SHIELD[/font][/center]
HEIGHT & WEIGHT: Six three, one hundred and eighty eight pounds.
PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION: Standing a towering Six three and weighing in at one eighty eight, Jakes not a small guy, but thats all people recognize him as. The tall guy, though he normally slouches a little, not really realizing he does it, in more of a looming over sort of way. His skin is naturally tanned, hair dirty blond though it gets lighter the more time he spends in the sun, his eyes a pale green, so for those who focus on his face instead of his height, notice his pale eyes right away. It's not unusual to catch him with a slight shadow of hair on his face, often not bothering to shave for weeks at a time.
Going for runs always keeps the boy in shape, though he prefers to swim over anything, normally going to his moms house when she's not there to do laps. His tall body is surprisingly not as gangly as some would think, and most at first glance assume that's what he must look like under his cloths. Defined muscle is there and he works on his body everyday to keep himself in really good shape.
It's rare to see Jake without a shirt on when people are around, he's not one of those typical guys, where even if its warm out he'll just whip his shirt off, and he'll either wear work jeans, or his carharts, along with his work boots. Colder days he's normally never without some sort of hoodie under his jacket. Though he was raised in wealth, nothing he wore would ever convince you it was true.
DISTINGUISHING FEATURES: Nothing.[/color][/font]
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FOR THE ANGER INSTILLED IN HIM
[/color]AND THEIR LOOKS ARE KILLING HIM NOW[/font][/center]
Hard challenging work
Guitar
Water
Swimming
Jammin' out to tunes
Music
Being outside
Mixed Martial Arts
DISLIKES:
Loud noises
Drama
Big crowds
Gossip
Drugs/alcohol
Parties/large crowds
Doing nothing
STRENGTHS:
Stubborn (good and bad)
Open minded
Easy to get along with
Listening
WEAKNESSES:
Quiet
Trusting someone
Easily bored
HABITS/QUIRKS: Constantly moving, whether it be clenching his jaw, bouncing his knee when sitting, or playing with objects near him.
OVERALL PERSONALITY: Jake here is my sweetheart, shy and quiet, but not afraid to stand up if things seem fair. One day he can by quiet and broody, the next charming and lovable. Most seem to easily get along with him but there are those who don't understand why he's a little different everyday. It all depends how he wakes up, what song is playing when he does, what look his mom gives him when he goes for his swim. Though regardless of what does happen to affect his mood, he's not one to just brush someone off, he'll try to be friendly and make conversation so long as the someone else started it, he's not one to go out of his way to make friends, though once you've made the friends list, your there for life. He's loyal and will back anyone up if the fights fair, regardless of who it is.
He likes to work, and work hard at that. It keeps his head busy, so it's not uncommon to see Jake constantly doing something. If things get super bad and he gets stressed he'll normally find some sort of lake or pool to dunk himself into and sit under for awhile, clears his head better then anything and it seems to help him sort things out. It seems lately he's lost a lot of patience with people and he gets fed up easily, though he doesn't throw a fit or anything, he'll simply walk away. He's good at keeping his emotions under control, and if things do start to slip, like usual, he'll walk away.
Jacob on a normal day is a huge flirt. He's never committed himself to a relationship, though if he did, it would mean she's the "one" so to speak, so he would basically treat her like royalty. He's not just gonna be, oh I sorta like you let's date. He's not that kind of guy. If a girl catches his attention he'll keep getting to know her and if it's meant to be, his attention won't drift. He has a few flings here and there, but he doesn't sleep around, often. Overall, you could say Jacobs kind of a mess, he's up he's down, hr's all over the place.[/color][/font]
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HE'S ASKING A QUESTION HOW WILL I BE
[/color]WHEN IT COMES DOWN TO THE END AND MEMORIES STILL HAUNT ME[/font][/center]
SIBLINGS: n/a
OTHER FAMILY: n/a
PETS: Border Collie known as *Blue.*
OVERALL HISTORY: Jacob grew up in BC Canada, being raised into the military life. Simple ordinary family, just the three of them. He really had no dramatic events take place while he was younger, unless of course you count things such as falling off the house's roof, or crashing his bike. He grew up with a strictness I suppose most didn't have enforced into their houses, but Jake almost found it comforting, knowing he had other people telling him what to do and all he had to do was do it well and he got their appraisal and got to do whatever he wanted, within reason of course. His dad fixed road bikes whenever he was home on leave, and Jake always pitched it, eager to learn everything there was to know about what his dad did. He soon realized he had no interest in learning about the bikes, but took an interest to the dusty acoustic that always sat in the corner of the shop. But his dad being his typical self told him he had to learn how to fix motorbikes. He started to learn and he sure as hell was going to see it through. Eventually He spent less and less time on the bikes and started with the guitar, and at only eight years old he had a natural gift for it. Jake liked to think that his dad enjoyed listening to him strum away, though at first he probably didn't. It took a couple weeks before his dad stopped complaining on how terrible he was and opened up. His father very rarely talked about himself, let alone his childhood, though he so promptly informed him that he could play the guitar better then anyone in his day. Since then, Jake practically worshiped the guitar.
At school things were relatively normal, the occasional tease or taunt coming from one of the older kids, telling him he was an army brat or whatever "clever" name they deemed worthy for the day. Jake grew tired of the rude words and eventually got in a fight with the oldest and biggest one, and obviously got his ass handed to him. Since that day he devoted himself to learn how to fight and control his temper. He took on debate classes on top of his others, always managing to stay on top and even ahead of his homework, receiving the highest grades in most his classes. When high school rolled around, things didn't really change, though it seemed girls started to take more notice in him, but he ignored most, knowing he had no time for a girlfriend. He had the occasional fling or hook-up, but he never dated anyone. At seventeen he knew what he wanted to do, and that was follow in his dads footsteps and at eighteen he joined the army, leaving as soon as he graduated.
This is where things get...odd.
Four years away from home without so much as a returned letter from his parents, Jake returned on Christmas day, hoping to surprise them, but walked into the house to find only his mom and a very bare house. As she turned to see who had entered the house, she broke down in tears, remembering the gangly eighteen year old boy leave and to have this grown filled out man return. Thats what he assumed she was crying for, but as she stumble towards him, Jake met he halfway, his tiny mother collapsing in his arms, endless sobs coming from her. Was she really that happy to see him home? As he glance around, he ask her where dad was, and she only sobbed louder, and thats when it all clicked. It took three days to even get his mom to look at him, another two for her to talk, though she refused to tell him what had happened. Jake knows how to keep his composure and stay calm like no other, but with the silence and lack of explanations, he finally flipped, grabbing the closest thing to him and throwing it against the wall, it just so happened it was his fathers guitar.
To this day, his mother has yet to tell him what happened to his dad, and family friends refuse to do the same as well and for this, Jake remains quiet when she's around, ignoring her existence all together. She moved from B.C. to here, Virginia, and Jake knew she couldn't survive on her own, she was a wreck. With a two year leave due to the loss, Jake moved with her. Now quiet with almost everyone, Jake catches himself acting like his father used to, closed off and broody. With the broken guitar in the back of his truck, and the rest of their stuff already on its way to West Virginia, Jake is here. The only time he sees his mother is when he catches a brief glimpse of her when he comes over every morning to swim laps in the indoor, or when he drops off groceries. It seemed as if she had moved on, the massive house she lived in having everything one needed to actually live inside for the rest of their lives, so long as someone brought them food. It was a nice place, and with the CF pensions, she could even afford a much larger house, but she wanted him to take some of the money to, as if it would make up for her actions. Or lack thereof. He refused, though she always left an envelope on the counter every month or so, and Jake would take it, only to put it in a savings account, collecting interest and whatnot. He would make his living like his dad would have. Working his ass off. Seems there's stables everywhere around here, who doesn't want a determined hand? [/color][/font]
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HOW CAN HE HAVE FORGIVENESS THAT FLOWS
[/color]WHEN NO ONE FORGIVES ME YET IT'S JESUS THEY KNOW[/font][/center]
ROLEPLAY SAMPLE:
[/i]here[/size][/font]
- - - - - - - a n d w a t c h m e b u r n b u t - - - - - - -
- - - - - - - t h a t s a l r i g h t b e c a u s e - - - - - - -
i[/i] l[/i]i k e t[/i]he w[/i] a y i[/i] t hu r t s [/size][/font]
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[/color] The faintest of smirks tug at the corners of her lips at the thought as she head for the barn, stuffing her truck keys into her pants pocket."Grooves fit?" "Yea yea, it's- *shrill squeal* hah! Missed me!" "I wasn't even trying to hit you" "*laugh* mmhmm yea riight. Regardless of what size of wrench you throw at me, you still wouldn't hit me." "That's 'cause your so damn skinny" *laughter*
Forehead rest on the top of the steering wheel, a quiet shaky breath being inhaled before the girl hold it a moment, then released it. She step out and down from the dodge truck, the two inch lift only in it to make the goose neck haul easier, her worn and dirty ariat boots stepping on the chrome running boards before the gravel, the slight crunch reminding her that she was definitely not at home. She park alongside some pretty slick looking cars, which only gave her the urge to slide under and take a look only to mock the wannabe classics. The girl push on the door, closing it shut with a light thud as she lock the doors, the beep of it always irritating her. Why couldn't they make it some sort of voice. They could record famous peoples voices, and when you press the tiny button to lock your doors, it'd be all, "all doors locked." Vin diesel. He could lock my doors any day.
She step in, the oh so sweet smell of horse, and the goodness that went with them, ease her hectic mind. At the sound of footsteps in the isle, different horses heads popped out of their stalls, nickering a "oh good someones here. Either means food or attention." I know everyone likes to think that they're horses only nicker a welcome to them and only them, but let's be honest. A horse treated right growing up will know that people means either food, or attention. Sometimes both. Yea, you probably have a connection with the horse, but let's be realistic. She push the negative thoughts out, lips pursing as she quietly whistle. With that, a painted head at the far end thrust his dial out, searching up the isle, orbs resting on her figure. The colts nares flare and quiver, and she knew he was giving his usual soft and low nicker, though it was unheard above the rest of the commotion in the barn. Boots thud quietly against the matted isle as she make her way towards the end stall, pale pools drifting to every other horse on either side. As she approach the colt, he simply kept his head out above the door, ears perked forward, orbs resting on hers. Another tug at the corners of her lightly tainted lips as she step closer, palm resting on the colts forehead.
Another step and her hand went to the bolt on the door, other falling from the colts forehead and grabbing the well used and worn black rope halter and lead. Digits fasten around the bolt as it slide easily back, little force being used as she pushed the sliding door, stepping inside the box stall. "Hey amigo" [/color] she spoke, her voice low and relaxed. The colt stepped back as the girl pushed the door open, only to move forward as she lead him out. The paints head was held low, as he usually did when they walked anywhere, the girls arm draped over his neck. If the horse held his head where he normally walked with it, he would be too tall for the girl to comfortably rest her arm on it. The soft sound of each hoof hitting the mats in there regular pattern was like listening to soft music. It was enough to make the girl let out that deep breath she had taken earlier. Truly let it out.
At the doors to the indoor, the colts ears perked up yet again, knowing what was soon to come. There was a small step down into arenas ground, the girl led her colt through, turning around, paint following quietly as she slide the door closed behind them. Like most sunny fall days, everyone preferred to ride in the outdoor, leaving the indoor free. It was nice having it to themselves for the time being. Small hands reach towards the colts head, untying the simple loop knot in the rope halter at his poll. Pulling it off, the colt stand there a moment and lick his lips before lazily turning away from the girl and moving to the center of the arena. Once in a spot deemed worthy, the paint casually turn around, then around, foreleg pawing at no specific spot before he ease his muscled body down to the sod. And just like that, the once clean horse was now dirty as ever as he rolled excitedly in the dirt. The girl lay the halter on the arenas edge wall, walking towards the horse as he now casually pick himself up with a light grunt. "Oh quit complaining. Put more muscle on if it's that hard"[/color] the girl randomly babbled to her horse n a light sarcastic tone. They frequently had conversations, and as her words finish the horse toss his head, which probably meant "eff you" in that loving sort of way, or so she liked to think.
She lightly smile as she reach him, hand going to his neck as she move her digits in small counterclockwise circles. The paint immediately started licking his lips as the girl made her way from the the top of his poll, covering his entire neck, to his shoulders, topline, then over his hip and croup. She worked her way all around him, moving her fingers in the same even equal circles, total elapsed time was around forty five minutes, but it was regular routine, quality time between the two. She give him a final pat on his muscled shoulder and the colt sauntered off to the far end of the arena, walking as if he was some old nag. Another smile crept on her features, "lazy bum"[/color] she muttered. The colts dial swiveled at her words, ears perking towards her, catching them. If he could laugh at her right now, i'm sure he would be. Just like that, the colt tore off around the arena, top speed, every muscle in his body rippling smoothly under his painted pelt. Slowing to a brisk trot, then breaking into a lope before turning into the wall slightly sliding as he did so, the colt burned around. There were no playful bucks or striking out, he was never one for acting so immature, but she knew the colt was enjoying himself. You could see it in his eyes. The girl couldn't help but let a bubbly laugh erupt from her chest, the sincere emotion and action reaching every point in her body.
"Yo...Shades"[/color] she spoke out between laughs, before quietly whistling. The horse slowed to a collected lope, then trot, before casually jogging over, all the while licking his lips. He stopped in front of her, head dipping low as the girl rub between his ears. hand travel along down his neck as she step to the side of the horse. Digits entwine in the colts long colored mane as she effortlessly swing herself up upon the equines back, landing gracefully. A light sigh was let out, one of content as she lean forward, arms wrapping around the horses lower neck. her black polo would be covered in dirt earlier then usual today. She disregard the meaningless thought as she lay there. They were an odd pair to say the least. The girl only being one hundred pounds at five feet, with bright red hair, paired with a thickly built stud colt, standing at 15.3hh and weighing close to twelve hundred pounds. They were indeed an odd pair, but good for one another nonetheless. There they stand, in the center of the arena, relaxed and quiet. She could fall asleep here on his back. "Gotta Wear Shades"[/color] she mumbled quietly, the colts ears swiveled back at her words, listening for more.
"That's a terrible name" "I'm not really concerned what you think of his name, he's mmyyyy horse" *ruffles her hair* *pushes him away lightly laughing* "fine, I hate him anyways" "Oh don't say that, you'll hurt his feelings" *laughs;;walks away shaking head*
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NOTES: boooored :3
OUTFIT: clickky
WORDS: one four zero two
MUSE: meh -.-
CREDIT: NOTHING_PERSONAL@CAUTION 2.0
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I LOSE JUST A LITTLE BIT OF ME
[/color]IN THIS FAMILY THAT WON'T SEE[/font][/center]
This app was made by JESS. Lyrics by Tyler Hilton and Jon Mclaughlin.