Post by gslicexx on Aug 7, 2012 17:02:53 GMT -5
*maxwell j. gallagher ,
* start with basics ,
[ I'M SWIMMING IN THE SMOKE OF BRIDGES I HAVE BURNED ]
[ I'M SWIMMING IN THE SMOKE OF BRIDGES I HAVE BURNED ]
FULL NAME Maxwell James Gallagher
NICKNAMES Max
DATE OF BIRTH September 22nd
AGE Sixteen
GRADE/YEAR Eleven
ELEMENT Thunder
SEXUALITY Heterosexual
MARITAL STATUS Single
* into the mirror ,
[ AGAINST MY WILL I STAND BESIDE MY OWN REFLECTION ]
[ AGAINST MY WILL I STAND BESIDE MY OWN REFLECTION ]
CELEBRITY CLAIM Adam Brody
EYE COLOUR Chocolate brown
HAIR COLOUR Brunette
HEIGHT & WEIGHT 5’11” and 145 pounds
DISTINGUISHING FEATURES Max isn’t the type of person to stand out in a crowd of people— or, you know, actually be in a crowd of people— but a few distinguishing features for him would have to be his hair and his eyes; short floppy brown locks that curl slightly at the edge, and chocolate brown orbs that can often be described as “puppy dog eyes”.
CLOTHING STYLE Graphic t-shirts galore fill this kid’s closet; from band logos to sarcastic quotes to anything and everything you could possibly think of. He even has a t-shirt with a cartoon cheeseburger on it. Max is big on blending in with the rest of society, therefore it’s only logical that his wardrobe does the same. His usual attire is basic and to the point; a t-shirt, a pair of jeans, green converse sneakers, and the optional hoodie given the weather conditions. Not a single shred of clothing that could be considered dress; it’s all about the comfort.
* deeper than skin ,
[ TAKE EVERYTHING FROM THE INSIDE & THROW IT ALL AWAY ]
[ TAKE EVERYTHING FROM THE INSIDE & THROW IT ALL AWAY ]
POSITIVE TRAITS
- Level-headed
- Humorous; though it’s a rarity that anyone doesn’t take offense to said humor
- Realistic
- Outspokenly honest
- Vigilant
- Loyal
- Independent
NEGATIVE TRAITS
- Sarcastic
- Cynical
- Anti-social
- Pigheaded
- Often inconsiderate to others; apart from the small group of people he actually tolerates being around
- Awkward
- Finicky
- Irritable
- Judgmental
- Independent; a little too much at times
LIKES
- Skateboarding
- Red Bull
- Reading; particularly about history
- The smell of rain
- Sketching; mostly charcoal
DISLIKES
- Crowds; all that jarring and bumping
- People in general; most of them are a bunch of jerks and idiots
- Being told he’s wrong about something; especially when he knows he’s right
- Insomnia; for the love of all that is holy, he needs to sleep eventually!
- The concept of self-importance; no one is better than anyone else
STRENGTHS
- Very attentive; easy to concentrate
- Poised; composed and level-headed
- Book-smart
WEAKNESSES
- Easily irritated; can be very edgy and high-strung
- Unsociable; often leads to loneliness, doesn’t it?
- Suffers from foot-in-mouth syndrome, or word vomit
- Very judgmental about people in general; it takes him a while to get close to someone
FEARS
- Spiders; anything with more than two legs is unnatural let alone eight of them
- Heights; ground is good
- Letting people in, only to lose them in the end
BEST MEMORY For his and his brother Brandon’s seventh birthday, their parents took them camping for a whole week out in the wilderness. They set up a tent, slept in sleeping bags, ate smores around a bonfire, told ghost stories, and sang stupid songs just for the hell of it. It was the most fun he’d ever had in his entire life. His mom taught them how to fish, and then how to clean and bone and cook it. His dad took them hiking through the trails and canoeing and swimming in the lake. There’s a photo album chalk full of just those seven days alone, but none of the pictures that were taken could ever really capture the essence of how amazing that week had been for him, and no doubt for Brandon as well.
WORST MEMORY The day of his dad’s death had to be the most tragic of moments that ever graced the Gallagher family. Max and Brandon were only eleven when it happened, but Max can still remember the distraught on his mother’s face as she sat the both of them down to tell them the news.
LONG-TERM GOAL Graduate and then finish college.
* past reflections ,
[ SOMETIMES I REMEMBER THE DARKNESS OF MY PAST ]
[ SOMETIMES I REMEMBER THE DARKNESS OF MY PAST ]
MOTHER Nancy Gallagher (45), hotel maid.
FATHER Robert Gallagher (47), deceased.
SIBLINGS Mason Gallagher (16), wind student.
OTHER N/A
HISTORY
In the early grey-skied morning of late September, Maxwell James Gallagher was born to first time parents, Robert and Nancy. As far as technicalities go, he was the second son to grace the Gallagher family, having arrived merely twelve minutes after his fraternal twin brother, Mason, was born. Their father, Robert, was a history professor and a thunder element, while their mother Nancy worked as a hotel maid and was finishing up her water degree in college. In spite of the fact that both parents worked, the truth was that putting food on the table and keeping the roof over their heads wasn’t an easy job. Which was probably why their house was always a complete wreck…Nancy was always too busy cleaning out motels to actually pick up the dirty laundry around her own house. Not that anyone blamed her for it. After all, with two boys running around it was bound to get messy; especially when one of those boys was Mason Gallagher.
From the moment they were born, Maxwell and Mason had always been a tad bit different. However, it didn’t really become noticeable until they began to go to school. Even at the tender age of five, while Mason easily made friends and got along with everyone, Maxwell often kept to himself and refused to play with the other children. He was perfectly content with coloring by himself and trying to teach himself how to read behind the bookshelf. Although they had their differences, the Gallagher boys got along fairly well. In fact, Mason was one of the only kids Maxwell could and would ever consider to be a best friend. Everyone else was unimportant; his brother was it from day one.
For the most part, Maxwell and Mason Gallagher led a fairly content and easy childhood. They may not have had a great deal of money, but they still managed to get by and live comfortably enough where they only had to worry about the necessities. There was no claiming bankruptcy in either the financial or the moral sense. The boys had clothes on their backs, food in their stomach, and a few extra toys to keep them content and occupied. Honestly, that was all that they ever needed, all that Maxwell knew he needed anyway…until Robert died.
Looking back on the talk with their mother made his throat feel unbearably dry, but if Maxwell had to pick the one thing he remembered most about that day, it would have to be the weather. It had been storming on and off since early in the morning, in the middle of summer, without a warning or a single cloud in the sky beforehand. What should have been his first clue that something was wrong when he and Mason arrived home from school; instead of waiting for them by the front door like she usually did, Nancy was sitting on the couch in the living room, tissue in hand. The second thing that should have ticked him off that something was wrong was when she asked the both of them to sit down. But even if he had noticed it, nothing could have prepared him to hear the news. Robert Gallagher had gotten into a car accident. Robert Gallagher was dead. Dad was dead.
After that, Maxwell only seemed to become even more of a shut in. He picked up sketching after finding his dad’s sketchbook while they were packing up his things because Nancy couldn’t stomach looking at them anymore. A routine of going to school, coming home, and locking himself up in his room with that sketchpad started up and it didn’t end until… Well, it never really ended. Once he’d hit fourteen and began at the academy with Mason, he always found a way to work around it; a way to keep the routine he’d grown fond of and continue to distance himself from as many people as he could. So what if his mom was worried about him? So what if it frustrated his brother to no end that he didn’t have any friends? Who cared anymore? Who gave a rat’s ass about any of it? If one thing was for certain, the answer definitely wasn’t Max. If one thing was for sure, the answer still definitely isn’t Max; because Max is perfectly capable of just doing what he needs to get done and then returning to his own little cynical world of pessimism and bitterness. He’s more than capable of handling himself. Now he get needs to make everyone else believe it too…
* puppet on a string ,
[ SOMETHING INSIDE ME THAT PULLS BENEATH THE SURFACE ]
[ SOMETHING INSIDE ME THAT PULLS BENEATH THE SURFACE ]
YOUR NAME G
YOUR AGE 18
RP EXPERIENCE 4 to 5 years
HOW'D YOU FIND US? Your ad on Caution 2.0
SECRET WORD Correct.
RP SAMPLEEmily couldn’t help but wince at the deafening screams that were echoing throughout the entire infirmary. Apparently, a young soldier had been brought back from a botched raid not too long ago, and he was currently getting shrapnel removed from where it had been embedded in his leg for almost twenty four hours already. Ouch. The very thought of it made her shudder, let alone hearing the agonizing exclamations coming from him. She turned to the nurse who’d just finished wrapping her ankle up and asked, “Aren’t they going to give him something for the pain?”
“They can’t give ‘em what we don’t have, hun.” The nurse, a brunette in her early thirties with wide eyes and a southern drawl to her voice, simply shrugged her shoulders in a casual manner, but Emily did notice that she was quick to change the subject. “Now how you twisted this ankle by just walking is beyond me, and I don’t believe a word of it, but I want you to go easy on it for the next week or so. No more doing whatever it was that really got you into this mess, yah hear?”
Emily nodded her head, forcing out a soft and seemingly genuine smile in return as she responded back, “Yes ma’am. No more walking for me. I got it.”
Thankfully, the nurse didn’t catch on to the sarcasm, or if she did she just didn’t pay any attention to it. After she was dismissed and free to go, Emily limped her way back to the ‘sleeping quarters’. At least, that was what she’d muttered to herself to trick the nurse into thinking that’s where she was going. In reality, the nineteen-year-old headed into the artificial garden, found the lone wooden bench she usually claimed, and plopped down on it as she began to rub her injured ankle.
In all honesty, she had absolutely no idea how she managed to get herself into these situations. She blamed it on sheer bad luck for the most part, but she knew that her general naivety and lack of detailed knowledge to the world around her was also a big aspect when it came to the outcome of her actions. Sneakily venturing out of Safe Haven had been a mistake in itself, but to head into the farmlands of Fort York? Really? She needed to start coming up with better ideas on how to go about finding out more information about the outside world. Preferably ideas that weren’t going to have her nearly breaking her ankle running from a rouge Lesser.
