Post by zakery arthur murphy on Aug 1, 2009 21:08:36 GMT -5
ZAKERY ARTHUR MURPHY
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hi, my name is zakery and i am seventeen. i belong with the locals and i'm a mute.
BASHFUL zakery is a rather shy boy. it is not due to anything that anyone has done to him, it is a simple attribute that he may have been born with. he's very bashful, and will blush pretty much anytime someone speaks to him. he generally only makes contact with other human beings when he absolutely has to, but otherwise hides in his apartment from the rest of the world.
FEARFUL the boy is terrified of... everything. and one would suppose that he has a lot of right to. he's horrified of walking in the dark alone, and even more scared of being robbed. he's most afraid of being attacked. if it came down to it, he could never alert anyone that there was distress. he couldn't cry out for help. all he has to rely on is himself.
LOVING if given the chance, zakery is a very loving person. he cares very deeply about each and every one of his friends and family. he would do anything and everything in his power to protect them. he's a complete cuddle whore, and will cuddle with everything and anything that is willing to cuddle with him. in his case, it's blackey the samoyed.
SILENCE zakery is very different from other seventeen year olds. he's not staying up all night talking on the phone to his girlfriend, going to the skate park with a bunch of friends and chattering about aimless things. zakery is a mute. he is completely incapable of making any noise, none the less forming words in speech. he carries around a notepad and an erasable pen so that he can make any kind of communication with other human beings.
february 28, zakery was born to a loving mother and a doting father, an older sister and later would come a younger brother. he became an addition, like any other family, and grew up like any other child. with one exception. zakery has an extreme birth defect, separating him from all the other kids in school, from the rest of the kids in the neighborhood, even from his family. he was born with absolutely no vocal chords. his hearing is fully functional and completely intact- so the hurtful words of ignorant children can sting him in the heart but he can't make any sort of come back because he cannot speak.
although zakery's defect seems to leave him at a disadvantage, he was perfectly capable of climbing the school system's grade ladder with ease. after learning sign language, zakery found it was simply much easier for him to carry around a small notepad and a pen. in that case, everyone could understand him- rather than the select few in the population that can decipher sign language. graduating high school shortly after turning seventeen, zakery left the nest of home despite the better judgement of his parents. upon moving into the apartment, and feeling very lonely and empty, zakery purchased a samoyed puppy whom became known as blackey.
and the story continues...
hi my name is krista and i am seventeen years old. i'm an effeminate human being. i just wanted to let you know that fashion statement suicide, okay? and i've been roleplaying for ten years. i like roleplaying males, and here's what i do.
darkness coated him like a blanket, the moon hung low in the sky. the black canvas above his head was still blank from stars. he smiled as the heaviness of the summer air lifted slightly after the sun had left that part of the earth. rather, the earth had left the sun. gray converse tapped gently against the sidewalk, departing one of the richest neighborhoods in the town. behind him fancy living was left. the maids, the spiraled staircases, the fancy dinners, but most importantly- the expectations.
jonah smiled as he entered suburbia. the identical houses, a step below what he hated calling home. so he didn't. it was "my parents' house" or "mom and dad's house". it was never his. home to him, was something completely different. blood trickled from his cheek, hands were bloodied, cuts were hidden in the folds of his fingers and the lines on his palms. "how about i just fucking leave then." the scene replayed in his head, the words as clear as when he had spoken them, as he sunk onto the steps of the playground. his lightly bloodied hands covered his face. "oh jonah, please don't be this way." mother touched him, he jerked away and headed up a few stairs on the staircase. "don't touch me you useless cunt." the expression on his mother's face stung him, even in memory. "don't you talk to your mother that way. you ungrateful little fuck! who the fuck do you think you are speaking to her that way??" dad was yelling again.
mom just didn't want him to leave because she didn't want him to tamper with her perfect family image. they always wanted others to envy them. people only ever befriended his parents because they thought they could benefit from it somehow. but they were so greedy that it just didn't matter. "oh i'm sorry, you forgot? i'm jonah fucking westenra. i'm your biggest fucking mistake. i'm everything you never fucking wanted." he was fuming now, and continued heading up the stairs. it was when he hit the landing, just before he went up the second flight, that he was slammed against the wall. "i don't know what the fuck makes you think you can talk to us this way. you start treating us with respect or i'll knock your fucking brains out. as long as you live under my god damn roof you play by my rules."
"your rules??" a stress induced laugh left his lungs. "your retarded fucking brady bunch family fucking rules. with the bleach blonde barbie tramp you fu-" he was cut off by a heavy blow to the face. it was that punch, and the impact of dad's class and wedding rings that caused the bruising and the cut. the force pushed jonah sideways, and gravity pulled him ontop of a table with a rather large vase. delilah was standing at the bottom of the staircase, watching with hurt eyes. dad continued to stand over him, like the alpha wolf who just won a fight. mom ran off, probably to the kitchen, and undoubtably crying her eyes out in the annoying, fake way that always irritated jonah to no end.
it was then that jonah picked himself up off of the glass and stumbled down the stairs. he shoved himself past delilah, under the hawk-eye of his father, and out the door. it was when the scene ended that jonah realized he had small blood spots on his shirt, but they were nearly impossible to see in the darkness and on the black fabric. the way he stumbled about at first probably made him appear to be in a drunken stupor, but he soon regained himself and corrected his footing.
defeated.
jonah smiled as he entered suburbia. the identical houses, a step below what he hated calling home. so he didn't. it was "my parents' house" or "mom and dad's house". it was never his. home to him, was something completely different. blood trickled from his cheek, hands were bloodied, cuts were hidden in the folds of his fingers and the lines on his palms. "how about i just fucking leave then." the scene replayed in his head, the words as clear as when he had spoken them, as he sunk onto the steps of the playground. his lightly bloodied hands covered his face. "oh jonah, please don't be this way." mother touched him, he jerked away and headed up a few stairs on the staircase. "don't touch me you useless cunt." the expression on his mother's face stung him, even in memory. "don't you talk to your mother that way. you ungrateful little fuck! who the fuck do you think you are speaking to her that way??" dad was yelling again.
mom just didn't want him to leave because she didn't want him to tamper with her perfect family image. they always wanted others to envy them. people only ever befriended his parents because they thought they could benefit from it somehow. but they were so greedy that it just didn't matter. "oh i'm sorry, you forgot? i'm jonah fucking westenra. i'm your biggest fucking mistake. i'm everything you never fucking wanted." he was fuming now, and continued heading up the stairs. it was when he hit the landing, just before he went up the second flight, that he was slammed against the wall. "i don't know what the fuck makes you think you can talk to us this way. you start treating us with respect or i'll knock your fucking brains out. as long as you live under my god damn roof you play by my rules."
"your rules??" a stress induced laugh left his lungs. "your retarded fucking brady bunch family fucking rules. with the bleach blonde barbie tramp you fu-" he was cut off by a heavy blow to the face. it was that punch, and the impact of dad's class and wedding rings that caused the bruising and the cut. the force pushed jonah sideways, and gravity pulled him ontop of a table with a rather large vase. delilah was standing at the bottom of the staircase, watching with hurt eyes. dad continued to stand over him, like the alpha wolf who just won a fight. mom ran off, probably to the kitchen, and undoubtably crying her eyes out in the annoying, fake way that always irritated jonah to no end.
it was then that jonah picked himself up off of the glass and stumbled down the stairs. he shoved himself past delilah, under the hawk-eye of his father, and out the door. it was when the scene ended that jonah realized he had small blood spots on his shirt, but they were nearly impossible to see in the darkness and on the black fabric. the way he stumbled about at first probably made him appear to be in a drunken stupor, but he soon regained himself and corrected his footing.
defeated.
MADE BY ELIZABETHCANFLYY OF CAUTION 2.0 BABY
