Post by elijah matthew hollis on Apr 22, 2013 21:27:41 GMT -5
[style=font-family:georgia; font-size: 40px; letter-spacing: -2px; text-transform: uppercase; color: #fafafa; text-shadow: #000000 1px 1px 1px; margin-top: -30px;]elijah matthew hollis,
seventeen - junior - male - videlict
[style=margin-left: 50px; margin-right: 50px;]P R I M A R Y
full name: elijah matthew hollis
nickname(s): eli, hollis
age: seventeen
gender: male
sexual orientation: heterosexual
academy: videlict
year: junior
canon: original
class: scholarship
player: hannah/hann/han/whatever you'd like to call me
play-by: james gaisford
S E C O N D A R Y
likes: logical situations, memorizing useless facts, knowing outcomes, teaching/taking care of others, making people smile/laugh, feeling useful, being away from home, feeling carefree, being around naive people
dislikes: people who worry, feeling confused, being unsure of himself, people who don't know how to take a joke, feeling frustrated, being around his parents, going home, talking/thinking about his childhood
aspirations: to learn as many fun-facts as possible, to become a better person than his father, to live out a happy live (successful or not)
motivations: the need to prove his father wrong, the desire to feel truly happy, the desire to change any part of the world
fears: failure, his father, darkness
key traits: erratic, spontaneous, carefree, interesting, extroverted, gentle-natured at heart, wise
personality:
You could say i'm a little bit crazy, if you please. Maybe even that I have split personality disorder. One half of me likes everything to be in order, it likes to know how everything works and why it works. The other half of me doesn't give too many cares. The latter side is a much more rare state of mind for me... usually I balance somewhere in the middle, but with the right person, I can be one or the other.
I suppose if you wanted to sum up my main personality, I'm all over the place. I make quick, but not necessarily rash, decisions. I enjoy order, but I don't thrive on it. I get frustrated quickly, and have a spit-fire temper. I don't like feeling confused or cornered, and I will defend myself at all cause, even if it means hurting someone else in the process.
I tend to be pretty quiet, but don't suspect for a second that I'm zoned out. I pay close attention to everything that's going on around me. Sometimes, it's not such a good thing. I see things that I probably wasn't meant to see, I hear things that are none of my business. Maybe I'm a bit of a wallflower, sometimes... I guess that's up to you to decide.
family tree: James Hollis (father), Rosie Hollis (mother)
history:
I was born on a stormy April 6th. Being the first child of my parents, I was most definitely not coddled. They had no problems disciplining me, and they created more rules than I could count, all so I'd become a good person as I grew up.
For the first bit of my childhood, I was pretty naive. I was very much what you'd call a loser or dork, and I loved anything involving math or science. I was in to things that made sense. When I turned 9, I began to see the corruption going on in my family, right before my eyes. I began to see the bruises that sometimes dancing across my mother's arms, but never did I dare mention them. Not to my friends, not to my grandparents, not to anyone. We weren't exactly high class, but we weren't at the bottom of the food chain either, and the last thing I needed anyone knowing was that my father was some sort of woman beater.
I began to resent him when the bruises became more frequent, and when he started showing that side of him to me. He'd never hit me at that point, but he was horribly aggressive. I'd say that all he wanted was for me to be successful, but it was more than that. Nothing but pure excellence was good enough for him, and he'd extract every connection that I had to the rest of the world if I couldn't achieve that.
He didn't really hit me until I was older, I suppose you could say, but he had no fear of throwing me around. He shoved me more times than I could count, the worst time being when he shoved me while we were upstairs. I stumbled back so hard that I was flung over the banister of the stairs, and from there I cracked my head off of the wall and just tumbled all the way down. He told my mom that I tripped.
Surprisingly enough, I didn't become resentful towards knowledge because of the ways he pushed me. In fact, I learned to appreciate it in a whole other way, from a side that enjoyed learning even when it was forced upon me. After all, I did have to learn to love it, considering it slowly became my life. By the time I was 13, I had my own library, and I was never allowed to leave my house outside of school hours. My father insisted that I know everything possible, more than I'd ever need to get a scholarship.
When I was 14, I began to experiment with sarcasm. I learned most of it over the internet, which he thought I used for studying. One day, I decided to try some out on him. He slapped me clean across the face, and that's when I decided it: I hated him. The simple shoves I could get past, but this was a whole new level. I had tried for years to pass his pushes off as accidental, or as something to do with his temper issues, but now, I was sick and tired of it. No gentle words anymore, no quiet nice boy. I rebelled against him with every chance I had, eventually becoming too much for him to handle. Though I still retained every bit of information, and though I still enjoyed pure knowledge, I found a carefree part in myself. A little part that wanted to not only be successful, but that wanted to be happy; and I guess that's where we leave off.
T E R T I A R Y
roleplay sample:
I'm just going to steal this from another RP site that I'm on, if you don't mind. If you require something specific to this site, just let me know and I'll try to fix something up.
A small shrug of her shoulders, and off came the blonde girl’s signature black leather jacket. It was a beautiful, sunny day today in LA, which was surprising considering the circumstances. The storm had lasted for what felt like weeks… just consistent pounding rain, hammering against her lonely house’s roof. On some days, it was nice living on her own, but on others, like those, it was plain and simply depressing.
Halle scanned around the open park, looking for a clear spot on a bench anywhere. She would have much preferred the grass, but there was still some debris and mud left over from the storm. They had managed to clean a majority of the park in a short span of time, though. No more fallen trees or giant branches, just leaves, small sticks, and muck. Those things would have to go away on their own in due time.
Scouting out a small wooden bench after a few moments, she retreated to it and slipped on, digging through her jacket for headphones. Days like these were her favorite, days when she could sit outside, away from the memories of her aunt’s abandonment. The house was nice, of course, but it would never be home. It held too many memories of loneliness and solitude.
Plucking the headphones from her pocket, she plugged them in to her phone, then her ears. She flipped through some songs, until she came upon Matchbox 20’s “Unwell”. Sitting back on the bench, she squinted and watched as the world moved around her. People strolling, squirrels climbing, leaves blowing… it was a pretty peaceful scene that evolved around her.
Concentrating on her music, Halle tipped her head back, resting the back of her neck on the bench. She closed her eyes, losing herself in the music.
[/style][/style]full name: elijah matthew hollis
nickname(s): eli, hollis
age: seventeen
gender: male
sexual orientation: heterosexual
academy: videlict
year: junior
canon: original
class: scholarship
player: hannah/hann/han/whatever you'd like to call me
play-by: james gaisford
S E C O N D A R Y
likes: logical situations, memorizing useless facts, knowing outcomes, teaching/taking care of others, making people smile/laugh, feeling useful, being away from home, feeling carefree, being around naive people
dislikes: people who worry, feeling confused, being unsure of himself, people who don't know how to take a joke, feeling frustrated, being around his parents, going home, talking/thinking about his childhood
aspirations: to learn as many fun-facts as possible, to become a better person than his father, to live out a happy live (successful or not)
motivations: the need to prove his father wrong, the desire to feel truly happy, the desire to change any part of the world
fears: failure, his father, darkness
key traits: erratic, spontaneous, carefree, interesting, extroverted, gentle-natured at heart, wise
personality:
You could say i'm a little bit crazy, if you please. Maybe even that I have split personality disorder. One half of me likes everything to be in order, it likes to know how everything works and why it works. The other half of me doesn't give too many cares. The latter side is a much more rare state of mind for me... usually I balance somewhere in the middle, but with the right person, I can be one or the other.
I suppose if you wanted to sum up my main personality, I'm all over the place. I make quick, but not necessarily rash, decisions. I enjoy order, but I don't thrive on it. I get frustrated quickly, and have a spit-fire temper. I don't like feeling confused or cornered, and I will defend myself at all cause, even if it means hurting someone else in the process.
I tend to be pretty quiet, but don't suspect for a second that I'm zoned out. I pay close attention to everything that's going on around me. Sometimes, it's not such a good thing. I see things that I probably wasn't meant to see, I hear things that are none of my business. Maybe I'm a bit of a wallflower, sometimes... I guess that's up to you to decide.
family tree: James Hollis (father), Rosie Hollis (mother)
history:
I was born on a stormy April 6th. Being the first child of my parents, I was most definitely not coddled. They had no problems disciplining me, and they created more rules than I could count, all so I'd become a good person as I grew up.
For the first bit of my childhood, I was pretty naive. I was very much what you'd call a loser or dork, and I loved anything involving math or science. I was in to things that made sense. When I turned 9, I began to see the corruption going on in my family, right before my eyes. I began to see the bruises that sometimes dancing across my mother's arms, but never did I dare mention them. Not to my friends, not to my grandparents, not to anyone. We weren't exactly high class, but we weren't at the bottom of the food chain either, and the last thing I needed anyone knowing was that my father was some sort of woman beater.
I began to resent him when the bruises became more frequent, and when he started showing that side of him to me. He'd never hit me at that point, but he was horribly aggressive. I'd say that all he wanted was for me to be successful, but it was more than that. Nothing but pure excellence was good enough for him, and he'd extract every connection that I had to the rest of the world if I couldn't achieve that.
He didn't really hit me until I was older, I suppose you could say, but he had no fear of throwing me around. He shoved me more times than I could count, the worst time being when he shoved me while we were upstairs. I stumbled back so hard that I was flung over the banister of the stairs, and from there I cracked my head off of the wall and just tumbled all the way down. He told my mom that I tripped.
Surprisingly enough, I didn't become resentful towards knowledge because of the ways he pushed me. In fact, I learned to appreciate it in a whole other way, from a side that enjoyed learning even when it was forced upon me. After all, I did have to learn to love it, considering it slowly became my life. By the time I was 13, I had my own library, and I was never allowed to leave my house outside of school hours. My father insisted that I know everything possible, more than I'd ever need to get a scholarship.
When I was 14, I began to experiment with sarcasm. I learned most of it over the internet, which he thought I used for studying. One day, I decided to try some out on him. He slapped me clean across the face, and that's when I decided it: I hated him. The simple shoves I could get past, but this was a whole new level. I had tried for years to pass his pushes off as accidental, or as something to do with his temper issues, but now, I was sick and tired of it. No gentle words anymore, no quiet nice boy. I rebelled against him with every chance I had, eventually becoming too much for him to handle. Though I still retained every bit of information, and though I still enjoyed pure knowledge, I found a carefree part in myself. A little part that wanted to not only be successful, but that wanted to be happy; and I guess that's where we leave off.
T E R T I A R Y
roleplay sample:
I'm just going to steal this from another RP site that I'm on, if you don't mind. If you require something specific to this site, just let me know and I'll try to fix something up.
A small shrug of her shoulders, and off came the blonde girl’s signature black leather jacket. It was a beautiful, sunny day today in LA, which was surprising considering the circumstances. The storm had lasted for what felt like weeks… just consistent pounding rain, hammering against her lonely house’s roof. On some days, it was nice living on her own, but on others, like those, it was plain and simply depressing.
Halle scanned around the open park, looking for a clear spot on a bench anywhere. She would have much preferred the grass, but there was still some debris and mud left over from the storm. They had managed to clean a majority of the park in a short span of time, though. No more fallen trees or giant branches, just leaves, small sticks, and muck. Those things would have to go away on their own in due time.
Scouting out a small wooden bench after a few moments, she retreated to it and slipped on, digging through her jacket for headphones. Days like these were her favorite, days when she could sit outside, away from the memories of her aunt’s abandonment. The house was nice, of course, but it would never be home. It held too many memories of loneliness and solitude.
Plucking the headphones from her pocket, she plugged them in to her phone, then her ears. She flipped through some songs, until she came upon Matchbox 20’s “Unwell”. Sitting back on the bench, she squinted and watched as the world moved around her. People strolling, squirrels climbing, leaves blowing… it was a pretty peaceful scene that evolved around her.
Concentrating on her music, Halle tipped her head back, resting the back of her neck on the bench. She closed her eyes, losing herself in the music.
