Post by theodore ingle, on Nov 2, 2008 13:31:29 GMT -5
THEODORE CONSTANTINE INGLE.
[/FONT]oh, hai there ! i'm pixi and i'm thiiiirteen years old. i'm a chickadee, and i've been roleplaying for three years. i also play ema 'n maybelline, so you might know me from them. and i read the rules. you want proof? adminstupidface. there, i told you. if you want to contact me, just do it here. and for my member title? i want it to be notsureyet. now, onto my character n_n[/FONT][/COLOR]
I'M NOT YOUR BOYFRIEND, BABY[/FONT]
I AIN'T YOUR CUTE LITTLE SEX TOY. I AIN'T YOUR LION OR YOUR TIGER[/FONT][/CENTER]
FULL NAME theodore constantine ingle
NICKNAMES teddy or ingle
AGE seventeen, april 1st
GENDER male
ETHNICITY irish/welsh
RELIGON whatever
SEXUALITY bisexual, kthnx
STATUS single
MAJOR writing
PLAYED BY paul griffiths[/FONT][/COLOR][/ul]
WON'T BE YOUR NASTY LITTLE BOY.
[/FONT]I'M NOT YOUR NIGHT IN SHINING ARMOR, CAN'T GRANT YOUR EVERY WISH[/FONT][/CENTER][/COLOR]
TEDDYBEAR DISLIKES
GOALS
FEARS
SECRETS
WEAKNESSES
STRENGTHS
BEST MEMORY
"best memory? the day i moved into my apartment in dc. i moved in just a few days after i divorced my parents and the feeling of absolute independence was... it was amazing. the sun was shining and i was actually smiling. i know, it's hard to believe. but yeah. it was basically the best day of my life."
WORST MEMORY
"my worst memory? uhm, they aren't exactly hard to find, buddy. choosing just one on the other hand, that's not so easy. there was the time my parents left me in a bar when i was four, there was the time my dad tried to get me to get stoned on his homegrown weed, oh! then there was the time that mom decided that they should have an 'open relationship' and started inviting all these guys to our house so they could 'get to know each other.'"
OVERALL PERSONALITY
there's really something people have to keep in mind when discussing ingle, and that's that he's, well, he's ingle. and ingle just isn't like everybody else. he's not all hyper and bouncy and full of life. yet, he's not depressive and moody and filled with that angst word that is constantly attached to every teenager in the world. sure, he's got that 'scene kid' appearance, but really it's just to please his peers. and to make him feel a bit more... normal.[/SIZE][/FONT][/COLOR][/ul]
teddy's really just never been in a situation where he feels within the norm. try as he may, it's always just beyond his reach. take his parents, as loose and free as they were teddy just never felt like he belong to them, and i suppose that's why he left them. because he wasn't theirs, and they weren't his. there's a weird sense of ownership that teddy believes should come with parenting, a sort of odd possessive feeling that makes you want to hold and protect, and teddy's parents just didn't have that. they never had that.
and ingle is a rather forgiving person, trust me on that. It's not easy to upset him, and you'll rarely see him angry. his emancipation wasn't a cry for attention, or a mad dash at rebellion but just the right decision to make. not for safety, or for decency but just because there was no way those people could ever be anything close to a real parent. and that's all that teddy needs. a real parent.
because when someone as young a sixteen runs out on their own, tries to lead their own life, they turn into something they're not. an adult. And while everyone else his age is out running around, and making mistakes, and being stupid and teenager-ish, ingle is stuck in his bedroom facing his laptop and trying his hardest to write like he understands the world. like he's all grown up, wearing a tweed jacket with elbow patches and smoking a pipe in some big british university.
his teachers are constantly remind him that he's 'just a kid', and teddy just can't stand it. you can't 'just be a kid' when you don't have parents to run home and cry to. it just doesn't work that way. he's tried, oh believe me, he's tried. but it just doesn't work. ingle's mind is stuck in third gear and there's no way to get it back. at least not the way he sees it.
but, that does come from being a natural born pessimist. it's just who he is. he's not a moaner, not a complainer, and he'll try anything once. but the moment he feels downtrodden about it, you can just forget it. The boy is simply lost. 'the exact opposite of your father' his mother would always say. his retort would always be something along the lines of why would anyone want to be like him, he's a failure. and teddy could never stand embarrassment.
which is a big reason no one will ever see his writing. he couldn't stand being called a failure. not that it would hurt his pride, considering the boy has almost none of it, it would just be more of a confirmation. yes, ingle, they did rub off on you. they're your parents.
he never really could figure out why he couldn't stand them. apart from the drugs, reckless behavior, and all their other shenanigans, they were good people. but, maybe it was just the extreme difference between them. i mean, for all he knew his parents hadn't lifted a book sine they were in school. and that, my fine feathered friend, was a long time before they had even had teddy.
and the difference weren't just subtle, they started that way, but all in all they were just completely different people. his parents were loose and free and able to break every single rule in the book, and teddy just wasn't. rules were put in place for a reason, to keep us safe, and that's what he wanted them to do. you were told not to smoke drugs in school for a reason, not just because some guy in a suit told them to do it. you're supposed to listen to these rules, not glance at them and then cast them away.
so, ingle takes a strong moral outlook on life. people do things for a reason, they breathe to live, they live to create human relationships, they create these relationships in hopes of finding love so that the species can continue on and prosper. that just seemed to be the way things worked, if you really wanted to break it down in such a way. but, these human relationships had to have strong morals and understanding, otherwise you ended up with people like mr and mrs ingle. disruptors of the imagined peace of the people.
overlooking the morals, ingle is just a guy in a pair of shades searching for some kind of inspiration. some sort of reason to continue on creating, and someone to continue on creating with. love isn't the question here, but teddy has an idea that it must have something to do with it. it just simply isn't a question he's ready to ask yet. and, at least it appears to him, everyone's pretty much fine with that.
SO I LEAVE YOU WITH THIS KISS
[/FONT]YOU CAN CATCH ME ON THE SPEED TRAIN, BEEPER IN A THREE WAY[/FONT][/CENTER][/COLOR]
CURRENT RESIDENCE blackberry lake, obv
MOTHER'S NAME evangeline ophelia ingle
MOTHER'S OCCUPATION singer
FATHER'S NAME carter bartholomew ingle
FATHER'S OCCUPATION artist
SIBLINGS georgia jeanine ingle, ingle's older sister
SIBLING'S OCCUPATION waitress
OVERALL HISTORY
people do things for a reason. theodore constantine ingle is a strong believer in such things. though, he never did figure out exactly why his parents went around having him. what business did these people have giving a birth to a child and attempting to raise it? what training did they possess? ingle's simple answer to that would be none, none at all.[/SIZE][/FONT][/ul][/COLOR]
teddy was born in san diego, california on a rainy day in april to a mr and mrs carter ingle. the birth had been easy, the baby was beautiful, and the couple was happy. in those few days, what more could they ask for? perhaps a bit less rain, or an extra blanket or two, but no true complaints could be uttered. for, the baby was happy, the mother was happy, and that was all anyone could really ask for.
for two years the ingle family had a lovely life. they were simply picturesque, so to speak. teddy's father made the money, his mother the food, and he supplied the entertainment. even today he can remember the feeling of pure joy he had when he made them smile, the lovely perfect family.
unfortunately for everyone involved, things would not last quite so long as everyone had hoped. how one gets into drugs, i cannot say, but i can say that once one does it is quite impossible to get out again. it is a very deep, dark, and dreary hole that i simply cannot understand. why would people want to jump on down? this is a question that ingle has been asking for years, and never once has gotten a straight answer.
once his father decided to become an artist was the day it happened. one of those midlife crisis things. and, well, evangeline just had to go along with it. unfortunately for his sister, she would also be dragged along throughout the course of events, unable to escape as theodore had.
evangeline decided to sing, in attempt to make more money, even though her voice was scratchy and most of the people that came to watch her came to... watch her. cocaine was constantly found around the house, and you were never sure if it was nicotine or weed the adults were smoking, but whatever it was it was something to get away from.
and, so, teddy did.
he moved as far away as he could, taking his now eighteen year old sister with him. they fled to dc where they stayed together for a few months before Georgia turned around and went back home. she said they needed her, and she simply couldn't let them down. luckily for her, teddy was never one to argue. he spent the next few months in dc by himself, attending the local high school and doing what he wished. which, really wasn't all that interesting.
the day his grandfather died he received a large check in the mail, which is what was used to pay for his tuition to the academy. and, boy, were they lucky to have him.
SHININ' WITH THE GLEAM CHAIN
[/FONT]AND YOUR HONEY GIVIN' ME BRAIN, YOU CAN CATCH ME WATCHIN' AI[/FONT][/CENTER][/COLOR]
Vickers never really could understand why the halls of the library were always so vacant. It was a nice place, the library. No obnoxious yelling, or loud music. People couldn't fight here, they couldn't 'riot', they simply had to enjoy the hush. And, well, Teddy simply adored that. The hush of it all was like music to him, nothing but the dull beat of his breath, the warm pounding of his heart, and the quiet clatter of his fingers touching the keys.
Sure, he could be sitting in a cafe somewhere in town, a cup of coffee sitting beside his laptop and perhaps a muffin along with that. To many authors that was rather enjoyable, a comfortable setting and cheap food and coffee. And, Vickers had to admit, each time he went he did find himself rather pleased with his day. But, the cafe could never stand a chance against the library. His library.
The workers of the cafe often gossiped and griped, or tried to make conversation with him from pure lack of something better to do. And he would try his hardest to be polite, smile and such, before explaining that he had a lot to do and it would be best if he was simply left alone to finish it. They'd always walk away a bit sour, and return about twenty minutes later with an extra glass to clean. And it was comfortable., but it wasn't wonderful.
To Vickers the library had always felt more like home than home did. Or ever would, for that matter. If you asked his sister, you would soon learn that he spent more time there than he did sleeping or eating. Of course, she'd also remind you that Vickers didn't have much of an appetite... or an ability to sleep. And that was just Vickers. If you were in need of him, you could always find him there, laptop in front of him, face just inches from the screen, stuck in his own little world. His own impenetrable little world. And, most likely, you'd ask to enter and he'd pop back, telling you that no, you wouldn't like it. It wasn't very good, he would probably have to rewrite the whole thing anyway. Because that's Vickers. Silly modest Vickers.
There was a sudden stop, a silence so thick you could cut it with a knife, and with that came the idea that perhaps she should run. But where was the question. To all sides of her there was nothing, nothing but trees and more silence.
Theodore Vickers had hit 'the wall'. He removed his brown framed glasses, sitting them beside his macbook on the mahogany table. He honestly couldn't tell you how often he hit that wall. Possibly five times a day, he'd be on a roll and then all of the sudden WHACK, nothing. Nothing but pain and pure aggravation.
Teddy stared down at his lap, his little black phone sticking out of the left pocket of his dark washed jeans seemed to be calling to him. Funny, considering it was a phone. Call someone, anyone, make plans, have fun. Vickers simply stuffed the thing farther down and out of sight. 'Stupid thing.' he muttered, almost inaudibly.
Mindlessly he began to pull on his green 'South Academy' t-shirt. That was something he hadn't done in years. South Academy was an elementary school in San Diego, where he had gone as a child. Funny, the t-shirt still fit him, considering he was ten the last time he was there.
Nonetheless, the boy was fidgeting. His mind was vacant, his stomach was empty, and his patience was beginning to wear thin. Poor thing.
Sure, he could be sitting in a cafe somewhere in town, a cup of coffee sitting beside his laptop and perhaps a muffin along with that. To many authors that was rather enjoyable, a comfortable setting and cheap food and coffee. And, Vickers had to admit, each time he went he did find himself rather pleased with his day. But, the cafe could never stand a chance against the library. His library.
The workers of the cafe often gossiped and griped, or tried to make conversation with him from pure lack of something better to do. And he would try his hardest to be polite, smile and such, before explaining that he had a lot to do and it would be best if he was simply left alone to finish it. They'd always walk away a bit sour, and return about twenty minutes later with an extra glass to clean. And it was comfortable., but it wasn't wonderful.
To Vickers the library had always felt more like home than home did. Or ever would, for that matter. If you asked his sister, you would soon learn that he spent more time there than he did sleeping or eating. Of course, she'd also remind you that Vickers didn't have much of an appetite... or an ability to sleep. And that was just Vickers. If you were in need of him, you could always find him there, laptop in front of him, face just inches from the screen, stuck in his own little world. His own impenetrable little world. And, most likely, you'd ask to enter and he'd pop back, telling you that no, you wouldn't like it. It wasn't very good, he would probably have to rewrite the whole thing anyway. Because that's Vickers. Silly modest Vickers.
There was a sudden stop, a silence so thick you could cut it with a knife, and with that came the idea that perhaps she should run. But where was the question. To all sides of her there was nothing, nothing but trees and more silence.
Theodore Vickers had hit 'the wall'. He removed his brown framed glasses, sitting them beside his macbook on the mahogany table. He honestly couldn't tell you how often he hit that wall. Possibly five times a day, he'd be on a roll and then all of the sudden WHACK, nothing. Nothing but pain and pure aggravation.
Teddy stared down at his lap, his little black phone sticking out of the left pocket of his dark washed jeans seemed to be calling to him. Funny, considering it was a phone. Call someone, anyone, make plans, have fun. Vickers simply stuffed the thing farther down and out of sight. 'Stupid thing.' he muttered, almost inaudibly.
Mindlessly he began to pull on his green 'South Academy' t-shirt. That was something he hadn't done in years. South Academy was an elementary school in San Diego, where he had gone as a child. Funny, the t-shirt still fit him, considering he was ten the last time he was there.
Nonetheless, the boy was fidgeting. His mind was vacant, his stomach was empty, and his patience was beginning to wear thin. Poor thing.
HOLLA ! this application form was made by PATCH ! of CAUTION TO THE WIND !. it was originally made for her site, THE PAPER CHASE TOUR, but she liked it so much that she decided to put it up there too :3 let's see. the lyrics, they're by this amazing band called 3OH!3, from their song I'M NOT YOUR BOYFRIEND BABY. you should go check them out, 'cause they're WHOAAA. colors from COLORBLENDER !. feel free to change anything that needs to be changed, but so help me, if you remove the credit, patch will send jt after you. and he's a pretty scary guy when he wants to be. PEACE, BBY !