Post by blake on Sept 12, 2012 8:36:12 GMT -5
* blake m. logan ,
* 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 Blake Mitchell Logan
NICKNAMES N/A.
DATE OF BIRTH April, 19.
AGE Seventeen.
GRADE/YEAR Twelfth Grade
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 Channing Tatum
EYE COLOUR Light Blue
HAIR COLOUR Medium Brown. Usually a bit on the short side.
HEIGHT & WEIGHT 6’3”/190 lbs. All muscle baby!
DISTINGUISHING FEATURES A nasty looking scar on the left side of his body on near his collarbone.
CLOTHING STYLE Nothing too fancy. Stick Blake in a pair of jeans and cover his chest (or not) and he’s fine. Plain old t-shirts, undershirts, and hoodies are usually what he can be seen in.
* deeper than skin ,
[ TAKE EVERYTHING FROM THE INSIDE & THROW IT ALL AWAY ]
[ TAKE EVERYTHING FROM THE INSIDE & THROW IT ALL AWAY ]
POSITIVE TRAITS
- Determined
- Quiet
- Responsible
NEGATIVE TRAITS
- Blunt
- Judgmental
- Temperamental
LIKES
- Quiet Places
- The Ocean
- Working Out
- Reading Mystery Novels
- Chess
DISLIKES
- Loud Noise
- Obnoxious People
- Clinginess
- Excuses
- Earth Elementals
STRENGTHS
- Reserved
- Physical Strength
- Dependable
WEAKNESSES
- Stubborn
- Vindictive
- Detached
FEARS
- Disappointing his family
- Not being able to reach his full potential
- Being bullied again
BEST MEMORY When he first showed signs of having elemental powers. His Father seemed to actually be proud of him, if only briefly
WORST MEMORY His entire ninth year at the Academy where he was bullied relentlessly by older students.
LONG-TERM GOAL Making his Father proud of him again
* past reflections ,
[ SOMETIMES I REMEMBER THE DARKNESS OF MY PAST ]
[ SOMETIMES I REMEMBER THE DARKNESS OF MY PAST ]
MOTHER Carrie Logan (47), N/A.
FATHER Joseph Logan (47), CEO.
SIBLINGS N/A
OTHER only those of importance; not the aunt they only see once every five years
HISTORY Blake was born into a well established family, meaning they were filthy rich. His Father however, had never made it a secret that he did no want children, and only had Blake to make his mother happy. Blake showed elemental ability almost right when he turned thirteen and it was no surprise to his family that they would ship him off to the Academy. In a way, his Father was more than happy to get rid of the boy. His Father always said that if Blake didn‘t show any elemental ability that he would disown him. Unfortunately for Blake’s Father, he was a Thunder Elemental like his Mother instead of a Fire one like himself. The day Blake showed any sort of power was and still is, the greatest day of Blake‘s life. It was the only time his Father has ever told him he was proud of Blake.
When Blake arrived at school he studied as hard as he could, but was labeled a nerd for doing so and as a first year was notoriously the target of several pranks, the worst being when he was bound in a bathroom and left there. It was several days before he was found. Blake decided in his tenth year that he was going to focus on working out more than studying, and slowly started to become one of the more feared students, but he really became popular during the start of his eleventh year when he hit puberty. Blake, for lack of a better term, became a man, his complexion cleared up and he became attractive, and he knows it. Now with his role of victim push aside, Blake has begun to turn into the bully. If clingy females and outspoken guys get in his way, Blake no longer keeps quiet.
* puppet on a string ,
[ SOMETHING INSIDE ME THAT PULLS BENEATH THE SURFACE ]
[ SOMETHING INSIDE ME THAT PULLS BENEATH THE SURFACE ]
YOUR NAME Blake
YOUR AGE 20
RP EXPERIENCE One Year
HOW'D YOU FIND US? Ad
SECRET WORD Correct
RP SAMPLE
Bryant woke himself up early, while he was not normally a morning person, he had an addiction that he needed to fix. He could feel himself tossing in his sleep waiting for the sun to start to peek through the morning haze. Finally, he saw the first couple strands of sunlight start to peek over the horizon and Bryant quietly rolled himself out of bed. Bryant had slept in his track pants and figured that they would work for this guilty pleasure of his; he tossed a long sleeved thermal and put a hoodie on over that. Bryant opened his trunk, he had been forced to hide this from his classmates because of what they would want him to do. Bryant pulled out a small bag not much larger than a tissue box and stuffed it into his pocket. He smiled as he snuck out of the Gryffindor common room and down the tower steps, not even the paintings were awake yet.
"This is perfect timing" Bryant thought to himself.
Bryant quietly slipped out of a side door that he had scooped out yesterday, it was smaller and lighter so it wouldn't make a great deal of noise when he closed it. Bryant looked around the courtyard, he knew this would be the hard part trying to cross the courtyard without being seen. Bryant looked around and saw everything was calm, he threw up the hood on his sweatshirt and took off across the courtyard in a dead sprint hoping that the morning fog would help cover him. He needed to be someplace quiet, someplace private where it could be just him and his fix, and he knew exactly where to get his fix; the quidditch pitch. Bryant snuck into the pitch, it wasn't exactly a maximum-security prison but he still didn't think he should be there right now, and he definitely didn't want people to know what he was going to be doing. That would be a disaster.
Bryant finally made it to the soft grass of the pitch, he took a deep breath as he stared into the now empty stands, closing his eyes remembering back to some of his games, listening to the roar of the crowd imagining it being here at Hogwarts, he could hear the chanting…
"Gryff-in-dor! Gryff-in-dor! Gryff-in-dor!"
He could practically feel the ground shake from the crowd's chanting, he could smell the leather bludgers, taste the tension in the air. It was at this moment Bryant knew he missed Quidditch. He could lie to himself and tell himself how much he hated the sport, which was true, he did hate part of it. But it was the matches, it was match day that Bryant lived for during the Quidditich season.
Bryant grabbed his bag and pulled it out of his pocket, he had purchased one of those enchanted carry-all bags from a magic shop, Bryant open the bag out and pulled out a small trunk and put it on the ground then he pulled out another broomstick. This was Bryant's pride and joy, and he had felt bad about hiding her, but he knew that the second people would see her their minds would go to Quidditch, and he didn't want to go down that road, at least not now. Bryant unwrapped the broomstick from its protective covering revealing his sleek Nimbus 2001. The black handle was polished and accented with silver Nimbus logos and a small American flag; this was the broom he'd used when he played for the American National team last year in the Quidditch World Cup.
Bryant smiled at her and stroked her gently, like a master petting his prized show-dog. He let go of the broom and it hovered patiently at waist level, bobbing slightly almost showing it's desire to be ridden. Bryant opened the small case with had two Quaffles in it, Bryant pulled one out and in one smooth motion threw one leg over his broom. Bryant pulled his arm back and threw the Quaffle as far as he could, and then put his feet on the stirrups of his broom. As soon as his feet touched the stirrups the broom took off like a bullet after the Quaffle; racing in tight line against gravity's pull.
Bryant scooped up the quaffle and pulled hard on the broom handle towards the hoops; the broom reacted as if it had read Bryant's mind and they were flying towards the hoops. Bryant flew high above them and then dropped himself into a dive towards the far left hoop, and he got closer he slammed himself to a stop cutting back hard to his left, spinning away from the hoops in a 180 degree turn on the spot, coming around Bryant launched the quaffle at the far right hoop.
Clank!
Bryant heard it ricochet off the inside of the hoop as it bounced in. Bryant felt a smile force itself onto his face as he watch the Quaffle start it's decent to the ground; but it quickly faded when he looked down and saw he wasn't alone. There was someone staring at him, they'd been watching him and he didn't know for how long, but he knew that he'd been busted. He slowly start to drift towards the ground and the figure standing there.
"This is perfect timing" Bryant thought to himself.
Bryant quietly slipped out of a side door that he had scooped out yesterday, it was smaller and lighter so it wouldn't make a great deal of noise when he closed it. Bryant looked around the courtyard, he knew this would be the hard part trying to cross the courtyard without being seen. Bryant looked around and saw everything was calm, he threw up the hood on his sweatshirt and took off across the courtyard in a dead sprint hoping that the morning fog would help cover him. He needed to be someplace quiet, someplace private where it could be just him and his fix, and he knew exactly where to get his fix; the quidditch pitch. Bryant snuck into the pitch, it wasn't exactly a maximum-security prison but he still didn't think he should be there right now, and he definitely didn't want people to know what he was going to be doing. That would be a disaster.
Bryant finally made it to the soft grass of the pitch, he took a deep breath as he stared into the now empty stands, closing his eyes remembering back to some of his games, listening to the roar of the crowd imagining it being here at Hogwarts, he could hear the chanting…
"Gryff-in-dor! Gryff-in-dor! Gryff-in-dor!"
He could practically feel the ground shake from the crowd's chanting, he could smell the leather bludgers, taste the tension in the air. It was at this moment Bryant knew he missed Quidditch. He could lie to himself and tell himself how much he hated the sport, which was true, he did hate part of it. But it was the matches, it was match day that Bryant lived for during the Quidditich season.
Bryant grabbed his bag and pulled it out of his pocket, he had purchased one of those enchanted carry-all bags from a magic shop, Bryant open the bag out and pulled out a small trunk and put it on the ground then he pulled out another broomstick. This was Bryant's pride and joy, and he had felt bad about hiding her, but he knew that the second people would see her their minds would go to Quidditch, and he didn't want to go down that road, at least not now. Bryant unwrapped the broomstick from its protective covering revealing his sleek Nimbus 2001. The black handle was polished and accented with silver Nimbus logos and a small American flag; this was the broom he'd used when he played for the American National team last year in the Quidditch World Cup.
Bryant smiled at her and stroked her gently, like a master petting his prized show-dog. He let go of the broom and it hovered patiently at waist level, bobbing slightly almost showing it's desire to be ridden. Bryant opened the small case with had two Quaffles in it, Bryant pulled one out and in one smooth motion threw one leg over his broom. Bryant pulled his arm back and threw the Quaffle as far as he could, and then put his feet on the stirrups of his broom. As soon as his feet touched the stirrups the broom took off like a bullet after the Quaffle; racing in tight line against gravity's pull.
Bryant scooped up the quaffle and pulled hard on the broom handle towards the hoops; the broom reacted as if it had read Bryant's mind and they were flying towards the hoops. Bryant flew high above them and then dropped himself into a dive towards the far left hoop, and he got closer he slammed himself to a stop cutting back hard to his left, spinning away from the hoops in a 180 degree turn on the spot, coming around Bryant launched the quaffle at the far right hoop.
Clank!
Bryant heard it ricochet off the inside of the hoop as it bounced in. Bryant felt a smile force itself onto his face as he watch the Quaffle start it's decent to the ground; but it quickly faded when he looked down and saw he wasn't alone. There was someone staring at him, they'd been watching him and he didn't know for how long, but he knew that he'd been busted. He slowly start to drift towards the ground and the figure standing there.
