Post by aaron on Jun 19, 2011 0:35:20 GMT -5
AARONSIMONLOVECRAFT !
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
RAINBOW SHIRTS RIBBED IN ACID LOVE
[/color]OUR LIVES ARE RIBBED IN PLASTIC LOVE, HERE I AM, HERE I AM, IT'S NOT JUST YOU
SHE LOVED ME TOO, HERE I AM, HERE I AM, IT'S NOT JUST YOU, SHE LOVED ME TOO
HERE I AM, HERE I AM, GONNA TAKE YOU[/center][/FONT][/SIZE]
nicknames: None so far!
birthday: # May, 1993
gender: Male
grade: College Freshman
sexuality: Gay~
played by: Andy Sixx[/ul][/SIZE][/FONT]
TO THE END OF TOMORROW, I WILL TAKE
[/B][/color]YOU TO THE END OF MY WORLD, I'M GONNA FIGHT FOR THE RIGHT TO BELIEVE IN
MYSELF, I'M GONNA FIGHT FOR THE RIGHT TO RELEASE MYSELF, RELEASE MYSELF
IT WENT ON AND ON, IT WENT ON AND ON[/center][/FONT][/SIZE]
Often dressed in all black or all white, Aaron sometimes mixes it up with blue jeans or flannel shirts, sometimes even a button-up when he's feeling fancy. Bandannas can be spyed wrapped around his forehead or neck on most occasions, and you'll rarely see his feet not covered in his solid black Converse Chuck Taylors. With nails sometimes painted, sometimes not, Aaron dresses as loudly as he speaks, and hopes that his appearance makes somebody actually think instead of just going through their day as normal.
personality: "Oh, he's a character," to quote Aaron's late Grandmother Lovecraft. Loud, snide, sarcastic, obnoxious, and immature are some of the wonderful descriptions Aaron Lovecraft has gathered over the years. His personality often fends people off, most of them not knowing exactly how to deal with the youth, especially when they catch him riding in shopping carts down the parking lot or dropping cherry bombs into public toilets. To their fury and disdain, any accusations will simply be met with a shrug and an "It wasn't me," from the boy. Aaron does what he wants, when he wants, stopping only to give respect to the people who deserve it, and when it saves his own hide.
All though not always the jackass of the crowd, Aaron can simmer down and be lovable and affectionate when someone tugs on his leash hard enough. Every ups has its downs, and Aaron sometimes ends up becoming too cowed and drops into a depression. When pushed or scared to be, Aaron can become rude, reclusive, anti-social and just plain nasty to people in order to protect himself.
likes: boys; loud music; candy; parties; mayhem; explosions
dislikes: boredom; authority; spiders; monotony; seriousness; tension
strengths: music; painting/sketching; being in front of people and crowds
weaknesses: sports; discipline; ADHD
[/ul][/SIZE][/FONT]
TO THE END OF TOMORROW, I WILL TAKE
[/B][/color]YOU TO THE END OF MY WORLD, I'M GONNA FIGHT FOR THE RIGHT TO BELIEVE IN
MYSELF, I'M GONNA FIGHT FOR THE RIGHT TO RELEASE MYSELF, RELEASE MYSELF
IT WENT ON AND ON, IT WENT ON AND ON[/center][/FONT][/SIZE]
father: Simon Lovecraft
siblings: Older Sister; Elizabeth Lovecraft
significant other (s): None ):
pets: A teddy bear hamster named "Turtle"
hometown: Scottsdale, Arizona
history: Gifted to this planet on May 7, 1993, Aaron Lovecraft grew up raising hell and causing mayhem in a suburb of Arizona just off the interstate from Phoenix. Being the baby of the family, Aaron grew up pretty much getting anything he ever really asked for. Always preferring black over other colors, and listening to Sublime and Slayer while other kids were listening to Brittany Spears and cartoon soundtracks, Aaron was always a little different. He always excelled in art, yet fell asleep through math; a pattern that found its self consistent all the way through high school. Ditching class, running the town at night with his friends, late-night band practices and even later-night parties, Aaron barely managed to scrape by high school with C's in his core classes. Only due to his excellent ACT score did the boy even manage to get into college.
And so he did, after a serious depressive spout due to a nasty break-up, Aaron decided it was time to move on and try to live his life anew. So, Florida it was as soon as the acceptance letter hit his mailbox. Now in a new town with no friends and no parents, Aaron prepares to go to college on the scholarship his ACT score earned him and simply waits for life to happen.[/ul][/SIZE][/FONT]
SAY, HERE I AM, IT WENT ON AND ON, IT WENT
[/B][/color]ON AND ON, LOUDER AND LOUDER, IT'LL BUILD AND FADE, AND SOON YOUR LOVE WILL TURN
TO HATE, SHE SAID HERE I AM, SHE SAID HERE I AM, LOUDER AND LOUDER IT'LL BUILD AND FADE
FADE, AND SOON YOUR LOVE WILL TURN TO HATE[/center][/FONT][/SIZE][/B]
other characters in jackson: None yet~
best way to reach you: PM would be sufficient
Sample:
(sample as Forrest England, son of Poseidon. Percy Jackson rp)
No. How could he have let this happen? Forrest swore and, ignoring the scolding from his mother, told her to stop the car. The pair were on their way back to camp, Forrest had been away for the beginning of the summer, finishing out his last month of working so he could give his check to his mother, helping her with bills and whatnot. The call of camp was irresistible though, and his mother agreed to take him back for another summer. The son of Poseidon had felt his fighting skills might've gotten a little rusty, Levi would never let him hear the end of it. But a few miles short of the gate, Forrest looked up to see smoke pluming up over the horizon. Something bad had happened, and he wasn't going to let his family get anywhere near it. "Go home. I love you mom, tell the girls I love them too," was the goodbye he gave his mother. And with a kiss on the cheek, the athletic boy pulled his lucky halberd out of the back seat and slipped his gladius into its sheath on his hip.
On foot, the boy jogged, not wanting to tire himself out before he even got to the fight. His loose baby blue button-up shirt flapped in the wind over top of his tanned leather breastplate. Forrest never wore the really heavy armor, his Minotaur leather did the job just fine. The breastplate, elbow pads, greaves and shin guards had saved his life plenty of times, and relied on them now as he continued towards the camp. What on Earth could have happened? Had the labrynth re-opened? Had the shield fallen and the camp was being flooded with monsters? Forrest swore again that he wasn't there, and felt awful for the damage that was being sewn without him there to help. He worried for his friends, and worried for his home away from home. Putting his fingers together at his lips as he got closer, Forrest blew hard, the whistle ringing out over the trees, echoing softly.
Not even a minute later, with the woosh of wings and the thundering of hooves, Forrest's loyal black and white pegasus Marilyn was running at his side. The fish kid hooked his hand around her neck and pulled himself onto her back, rocketing into the air. "Its about time you showed up," the mare scolded him. "The entire camp has broken out into civil war," she added, bitterness lacing the voice that Forrest heard in his head. Nodding, the son of Poseidon ducked his head down and they continued to soar forward, shooting through the gate like a bullet. Campers, swords, violence was rampant. "I'm jumping off here, you leave. Get out of the reach of arrows and javelins, but stay close enough to hear me whistle," Forrest told the pegasus, giving her a kiss on the back of her head and leaping off the side, rolling as he hit the dirt to throw off the force of the hit.
As he stood up, halberd in hands, a camper approached him with a heavily bandaged face, possibly at loss for one of their eyes. Forrest recognized the boy, a son of Hermes. "Theres a rebellion attacking the camp, thank Hermes you're hear. Head to the volleyball courts, the resistance is losing there, badly. We've already lost the forge and they burnt down the Big House!," the camper spilled at Forrest, desperation and fear blatant on his wounded face. Listening carefully, the Son of Poseidon took off, blood and dust already flecked on his black dress slacks. His boots gave him very decent traction, and Forrest was feeling the sand of the courts under his footsteps in no time.
It didn't look good, and the boy scooped a handfull of sand, rubbing it on his palms and bringing the halberd up into attack mode. Almost at once a camper spotted him, a rebel presumably, and charged Forrest. "Big mistake, kid!," the swimmer said, and just like swinging the oars of his boat, hooked the attacker under the breastplate with the spearpoint of his halberd and ducked under, flipping the kid onto his back, winding him. Forrest really didn't want to kill his fellow campers, but the more he fought, trying to be non-lethal, the more apparent it became that fire would have to be fought with fire. Careful and practiced, Forrest stabbed, swung, tripped and hooked attacking rebels with his halberd, the spear and axe heads doing their jobs wonderfully. But the rebel force was like a hydra, and the volleyball courts were being overrun. It was suicide for the resistance to stay here."Resistance, retreat! No more campers need to die here!," Forrest England screamed at the top of his lungs, his voice powerful and commanding. He hoped enough Resistance fighters heard him, and sweat trickled down his skin, his heartbeat pounding hard in his ears.
Hearing an anguished grunt, Forrest spun on his heel to see Heaven, a daughter of Ares and someone he had known for a long time, stomp in the ribs of another camper, scooping her sword up from the dirt. So this is what civil war was like..."Heaven, you and I both know this is wrong. You're a cabin leader...help me clear this field. You rebels have won, but nobody wants more blood spilt," the athlete pleaded with the girl, still holding onto his halberd firm, and making sure nobody snuck up behind him with quick glances to his sides, ducking quickly as a javelin streaked overhead.
Read more: campolympians.proboards.com/index.cgi?board=volleyballcourts&action=display&thread=2169&page=1#ixzz1PhHybsjE
No. How could he have let this happen? Forrest swore and, ignoring the scolding from his mother, told her to stop the car. The pair were on their way back to camp, Forrest had been away for the beginning of the summer, finishing out his last month of working so he could give his check to his mother, helping her with bills and whatnot. The call of camp was irresistible though, and his mother agreed to take him back for another summer. The son of Poseidon had felt his fighting skills might've gotten a little rusty, Levi would never let him hear the end of it. But a few miles short of the gate, Forrest looked up to see smoke pluming up over the horizon. Something bad had happened, and he wasn't going to let his family get anywhere near it. "Go home. I love you mom, tell the girls I love them too," was the goodbye he gave his mother. And with a kiss on the cheek, the athletic boy pulled his lucky halberd out of the back seat and slipped his gladius into its sheath on his hip.
On foot, the boy jogged, not wanting to tire himself out before he even got to the fight. His loose baby blue button-up shirt flapped in the wind over top of his tanned leather breastplate. Forrest never wore the really heavy armor, his Minotaur leather did the job just fine. The breastplate, elbow pads, greaves and shin guards had saved his life plenty of times, and relied on them now as he continued towards the camp. What on Earth could have happened? Had the labrynth re-opened? Had the shield fallen and the camp was being flooded with monsters? Forrest swore again that he wasn't there, and felt awful for the damage that was being sewn without him there to help. He worried for his friends, and worried for his home away from home. Putting his fingers together at his lips as he got closer, Forrest blew hard, the whistle ringing out over the trees, echoing softly.
Not even a minute later, with the woosh of wings and the thundering of hooves, Forrest's loyal black and white pegasus Marilyn was running at his side. The fish kid hooked his hand around her neck and pulled himself onto her back, rocketing into the air. "Its about time you showed up," the mare scolded him. "The entire camp has broken out into civil war," she added, bitterness lacing the voice that Forrest heard in his head. Nodding, the son of Poseidon ducked his head down and they continued to soar forward, shooting through the gate like a bullet. Campers, swords, violence was rampant. "I'm jumping off here, you leave. Get out of the reach of arrows and javelins, but stay close enough to hear me whistle," Forrest told the pegasus, giving her a kiss on the back of her head and leaping off the side, rolling as he hit the dirt to throw off the force of the hit.
As he stood up, halberd in hands, a camper approached him with a heavily bandaged face, possibly at loss for one of their eyes. Forrest recognized the boy, a son of Hermes. "Theres a rebellion attacking the camp, thank Hermes you're hear. Head to the volleyball courts, the resistance is losing there, badly. We've already lost the forge and they burnt down the Big House!," the camper spilled at Forrest, desperation and fear blatant on his wounded face. Listening carefully, the Son of Poseidon took off, blood and dust already flecked on his black dress slacks. His boots gave him very decent traction, and Forrest was feeling the sand of the courts under his footsteps in no time.
It didn't look good, and the boy scooped a handfull of sand, rubbing it on his palms and bringing the halberd up into attack mode. Almost at once a camper spotted him, a rebel presumably, and charged Forrest. "Big mistake, kid!," the swimmer said, and just like swinging the oars of his boat, hooked the attacker under the breastplate with the spearpoint of his halberd and ducked under, flipping the kid onto his back, winding him. Forrest really didn't want to kill his fellow campers, but the more he fought, trying to be non-lethal, the more apparent it became that fire would have to be fought with fire. Careful and practiced, Forrest stabbed, swung, tripped and hooked attacking rebels with his halberd, the spear and axe heads doing their jobs wonderfully. But the rebel force was like a hydra, and the volleyball courts were being overrun. It was suicide for the resistance to stay here."Resistance, retreat! No more campers need to die here!," Forrest England screamed at the top of his lungs, his voice powerful and commanding. He hoped enough Resistance fighters heard him, and sweat trickled down his skin, his heartbeat pounding hard in his ears.
Hearing an anguished grunt, Forrest spun on his heel to see Heaven, a daughter of Ares and someone he had known for a long time, stomp in the ribs of another camper, scooping her sword up from the dirt. So this is what civil war was like..."Heaven, you and I both know this is wrong. You're a cabin leader...help me clear this field. You rebels have won, but nobody wants more blood spilt," the athlete pleaded with the girl, still holding onto his halberd firm, and making sure nobody snuck up behind him with quick glances to his sides, ducking quickly as a javelin streaked overhead.
Read more: campolympians.proboards.com/index.cgi?board=volleyballcourts&action=display&thread=2169&page=1#ixzz1PhHybsjE
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
this application template was made by LADY AND THE TRAMP !? of CAUTION 2.O
do not steal this template, or remove the credit, whatsoever.
also, out of respect, do not change ANYTHING at all.
lyrics credited to tegan and sara.
do not steal this template, or remove the credit, whatsoever.
also, out of respect, do not change ANYTHING at all.
lyrics credited to tegan and sara.
