Post by willow hill anderson. on Nov 2, 2008 17:36:12 GMT -5
WILLOW HILL ANDERSON.
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oh, hai there ! i'm ammy and i'm fifteen years old. i'm a female, and i've been roleplay for loadsa years. i also play like, nobody, so you might know me from them. and i read the rules. you want proof? ADMIN EDIT. there, i told you. if you want to contact me, just ask paula. and for my member title? i want it to be every thrill he's caused. 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 Willow Hill Anderson
NICKNAMES Depending on his mood, Will.
AGE 17 (march first)
GENDER Male.
ETHNICITY Russian
RELIGON Athiest.
SEXUALITY Pansexual
STATUS Single.
MAJOR Musician
PLAYED BY Joshua Third. [/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]
guitars, his hair, loud music, girls, boys, alcohol, weed, sex, his brother, pets, his father(secretly), chemistry, biology, maths, tight jeans, skinny ties, black and white, the smell of hospitals, fucking with people, scaring people, night clubs, needles, knives, thumb tacks, glass, sharp pieces of plastic, tattoo's, piercings, himself, large beds, music, smoking, drinking, parties, computers, being outside, smoothies, movies, having a hot date, whores, because whore + whore usually = sex, slim people, chubby people, natural coloured hair, summer, sun, cocaine.
WILLOW DISLIKES
his mother, lilies, being told off, cats, water, being called sick, indecisiveness, scars, flashbacks, pop music, people who think they're 'hardcore' because they've popped a pill, english, pizza, fatty foods in general, being called thin, his brother at times, not getting what he wants, rain, being told that he's wrong, sand, crabs, learning, running, fat girls, people who wear skinnies that are beyond tight, so their flab hangs over, sparkling water, winter, condoms, losing money, people who think they're better than him, when they're clearly not, criticism, people who wear the same clothes as him, rap, not getting paid.
GOALS
be a 'great man' like his father, learn how to play the xylophone.
FEARS
admitting that he thinks what his father did was right, his money running out.
SECRETS
he thinks every single thing that his father did was right, he has a slight alcohol problem.
WEAKNESSES
quick to judge, wastes money, uses people.
STRENGTHS
the guitar, thinking ahead of most teachers, lying his way out of his problems.
BEST MEMORY
My best memory? Let me take you back a decade, or so, to my seventh birthday. My father and I had gone hunting, as we often did, in the woods near our house. We'd often gone there as I had grown up, I would run after my father carrying his equipment. I was proud to be a part of his work, I was proud to be helping him. It wasn't until shortly before my seventh birthday that I was permitted to actually attempt a hunt myself. I had adored it, every single second of it, the adrenaline that pumped through my veins because of the power I held within my small hands. It was what I was built for and have always been built for. However, I digress, my best memory came shortly after my first kill. We carted the carcuss of the small deer home, looking back now I realise that it was nothing like the size of the kills my father made, I had been helped by my father to put the dead animal onto the kitchen table and then had been sent to fetch my darling mother. She knew what was expected of her and complied, a surprise to all of us. Rio had come into the room shortly after, no doubt in search of the woman who was stood praising me as my father expected her to. That moment was the best of my life, the moment of realisation that my darling brother could never and would never be able to do the things that I could. He would never be able to go out with my father on a hunt, he would never be able to kill something. I was the more powerful of us and that was all I needed to know.
WORST MEMORY
I presumed that this would be obvious. Again, this happened around my seventh birthday and it was none too pleasing for me. My father killed my mother, but that isn't the bad part. The bad part involves the authorities dragging my father away from me. I loved that man and I always will, he was a true role model and the fact that he killed my mother only strengthens my belief in that fact. She was a whore, a stupid little bitch who deserved to die for the things that she did to me and my father. She was a hideous person, inside and out and she, not my father, is the reason that I'm as fucked up as I am today.
OVERALL PERSONALITY
Complicated
It's safe to say that what you see is definitely not what you get with Willow. He's a cunt to everybody, including Rio, but without him he'd be well and truly lost. It'll do you no good to assume things when it comes to this boy because he'll just pick them up and throw them back in your face. It's probably best if you make no effort with him, because if you do, he'll just about die to be your friend. He needs you to pay attention to him, whether you want to or not.
Out of Control
I always appear to be so in control of my life, don't I? I know exactly what's going on and have pretty much everything sussed. Well, every so often, I have these brief moments of worry where I feel like I've really lost control. It's at these times that I tend to attempt to run away. Ah, those times are the best. I tend to hide in particularly simple places, yet it always takes a while for them to realise I'm gone and then actually find me. It's also during these times that I spend alot of money, drink alot of booze and have plenty of sex. You think I'm joking? The money that my mother and father had stored away is more than enough to ensure I can keep doing this until I'm in my 50's. For a mad man, he certainly knew how to handle money and he definitely knew how to avoid handing it over to the skank that I tenderly call mother darling. When these moments of madness have past, I'm left with nothing but a few extra cuts, a little dent in the savings, and one of the worst hangovers ever.
Whore
Willow 's a whore and he's not afraid to admit it. He's always got a new girl and he doesn't stay with them long, unless he really likes them. You can guarantee that if you're with him for over a month he'll be looking for somebody else, or he may even be cheating on you. For Willow the fun's in the chase, and once it's over he becomes bored quickly. Don't get me wrong, when he's interested in you he can be the sweetest guy around. He'll bring you flowers, chocolates, shower you with those mushy sayings that every girl secretly wants to hear, but it takes alot to interest him and keep his interest. Willow has a nasty habit of leaving his girlfriends in the most horrible ways. He can't help it, it just happens. He doesn't mean to send that text saying something to the effect of it's not me, it's you, he doesn't mean to tell them that they're no good at sex and that's what he really wants, it's not his fault that they see him outside their dorm making out with some other girl. It just happens. You'd think that tales of his love life would have worked their way into every girls mind, but looking at him, he just isn't that kind of person. He's got a fairly innocent face, and he uses it to his advantage. If somebody's heard a rumour about him that's true, you can bet that by the end of the day he'll have convinced them it's a lie.
Needless to say, Willow isn't a virgin and hasn't been for a long, long time. He wouldn't want to be either, he enjoys sex, and what do you do when you enjoy something? Do it alot, and that's exactly what Willow does.
Liar
From a young age, Willow's always lied. He's done it to get him out of trouble so much that he seems to have perfected the art. It's gotten to the stage where he doesn't even notice the lies that are falling from his mouth, they just happen. However, it's not just what he says that are lies, often it's how he acts. Got a girl that's completely against smoking? He won't smoke when around her, until he's absolutely certain he's won her over. Someone who's against eating meat? He's a vegetarian, until 'his doctor tells him he's losing weight too fast and needs to eat meat to help him sustain his body weight'. Yes, the lies just happen and it's very unlikely you'll catch him out. If you do, he'll probably respect you a hell of alot more than anybody else, it happens so rarely.
Confident
You've probably never met somebody as confident as Willow. He's not afraid to walk up to a stranger and introduce himself, or stand in front of hundreds of people with that silly grin on his face. He's confident that his looks and personality will see him through any situation, a little arrogant, don't you think? But in most cases, it's exactly the case. He's used his looks to get him through difficult situations, used the lying part of his personality to win people over, really, it seems there's nothing this boy can't do. Of course, he knows better, but he doesn't let people see this. There are a few things that you can guarantee will knock his confidence down a notch, being told that he's wrong is certainly one of them. When that happens, you can see his confident facade flicker slightly, although you have to look pretty damned close.
Arrogant
Willow is extremely full of himself, he thinks he can do anything and tells people as much. According to him, he's the best lover, best son and best model the world has ever seen. Of course, this can't possibly be true, and if it was, who would the judge be? A word of warning though, don't tell him he's wrong. He'll just laugh in your face and probably spit some not so pleasant words out at you.
Clever
At least one of the claims that Willow makes is true, he's rather clever. He knows what he's talking about when it comes to Maths, English, French and pretty much any subject you can throw at him. Nobody's really sure why he's so clever, he never pays attention in lessons and he certainly isn't studying outside of classes. He rarely reads and it would be even more rare that his parents sat him down and made him do that homework. He knows the reason of course, Willow spends alot of time talking to some very intelligent people. People that are perfectly happy to spout facts at him that he can then recite later. He can't help but have some of it stick in his mind. Perhaps he's just a natural-born learner?
Determined
If Willow wants something, he'll do his best to get it. He's never more motivated than when he's trying to get to a girl, he does everything he can to convince them that they like him. Because really, that's all he needs to do to wind up with them in bed. Convince them that they like him, love them, make them feel special, and then invite them to his dorm. If it requires more work than that, he'll do it. It only adds to the challenge, makes the game fun. The same applies to material goods, if he wants that new jacket, you can bet he'll get it, even if it means working over time. This would be a good trait, if only he applied it in the right areas, like his school work etc, but he simply doesn't care about it. All he cares about are girls, modelling and having fun somewhere along the line.
Slacker
Willow doesn't like working. He does everything he can to just let the lesson coast along with as little involvement as possible on his part. It doesn't always work, but he'll sure as hell try. He's been known to skip lessons, just so he doesn't have to hand in homework or even simply sit in a room where learning's taking place. He's also been known to pay others to do the work for him, it's a quick buck, right?
Addictive.
Willow's addicted to so many things, he's a little bit of a nympho, alot of a drug addict and dealer and he's even started working on his third addiction, alcohol. This boy doesn't do anything in halves, and these addictions are definitely no different. He doesn't really care if people know he enjoys sex, but drugs is a different matter. He hasn't let any of his prep friends know, unless he's certain that they'll be asking for some.
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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 The Academy?
MOTHER'S NAME DECEASED.
MOTHER'S OCCUPATION CORPSE
FATHER'S NAME Henrie Anderson
FATHER'S OCCUPATION Prisoner of the state
SIBLINGS Rio Anderson.
OVERALL HISTORY
Hospitals are nothing more than a hell hole provided nationally for those who feel a little sniffle coming on, or actually have something seriously wrong with them, for instance they are pregnant. My mother was pregnant with me one of the few times she entered a hospital. She was pregnant with me and then she wasn't and I was in her thin, bony arms screaming my little lungs out. She seemed to have mistaken this for 'love' and often, after I had grown a little, would tell me that she knew I had loved her from the second I was placed in her arms. I, of course, knew otherwise, she was nothing more than a stupid whore and I was the result of one of her fucks. I was, in both senses of the word, a bastard. My parents weren't married and my father didn't intend to marry her. Why would he? She was a stupid little hussy with no time for her children or partner and my father had more common sense than to actually fall for her. My father, at the time, had two jobs. His day job had the typical 9-5 shift and involved him sitting in front of a computer entering data thatwas provided for him. He didn't really need to talk to anybody there, and so he didn't. He did his job, came home for a few hours, most of the time he slept these hours, and then went off to do his night job, which involved much of the same. I remember, from a young age, I respected my father. He was the source of income for our family and he knew exactly how to use this to his advantage. My mother would often argue that she spent all of her time looking after us and would happily switch places with my father and take his long hours over us. Of course, whenever my father was faced with this he would turn to me and ask me if this was true and I'd stand by my father, saying she did absolutely nothing. It was true, she didn't. All that she did was sit on her arse watching the television and snarling at us to keep quiet. Anyway, I'm getting ahead of myself, I suppose. From the moment my mother gave birth to me, I hated her. She was so unimportant to me, but my father? He was the best thing that could possibly have happened to me. When my brother was born, my days got better, I had something to do that didn't involve her, and I could do it until my father was home. Life was grand and seemed like it would stay that way for a long time.
When I hit 7, my father did something particularly brave, I feel. He took me and my brother into the kitchen, sat us at the table and called my mother in. Once she was in the room, he blocked any exit's she might be able to take. He picked up the biggest knife in the kitchen, which had always been so easy to get to thanks to my mother's lack of 'child-proofing'. And then, he did something which made me love him all the more. He stabbed that stupid bitch 27 times, being certain not to hit any vital organs until the last second. Of course, with stabbings, there's bound to be lots of blood spatter, on the walls, on the cabinets, on the children sat nearby. I, of course, didn't mind all that much, it did nothing more than fuel my addiction to the warm, sticky liquid. What I did mind, however, was that I knew my father would get caught. And no sooner did I think this than several police man broke through the door and arrested my father. It turned out, that he had rang them and told them what he was doing and they were just too late. He had no intention of hurting me and my brother, so he said. It was obvious he was guilty, he had told them as much, been found leaning over the dead body of my mother and looking as though he'd bathed in her blood. He was sentenced to life in prison and for a short period, my life felt like it was crumbling down.
My mother, the stupid whore, was dead. My father, who I truly adored, had been sentenced to life in prison and there was absolutely no way he would be getting out on parole. My brother was the only person who I could still rely on, and I certainly did. When we were taken on by the social services, I tried my best to act like a normal child for him, so we wouldn't wind up having to see some shitty psychologist. I tried to act upset about my mother, but in the end it was all to no avail. We were sent to see a young psychologist called Lawrie. He was a prick, I didn't like him or the way he felt the need to pry. I told him as much, of course, at 8, it's not the most normal of things to do. He had me 'sussed from that moment on', he had said. I was trying to live up to my father's expectations, be something that he wanted me to be, apparently a murderer. I took great delight in playing up to this idea and then letting it crumble in front of his eyes. It wasn't long until they'd had enough. They didn't want to hear my lies anymore and it seemed neither did my beloved foster parents. Who would have thought that threatening my siblings wasn't a good thing, hey? Oh well, they weren't my father and he was all I wanted. When they mentioned moving me from their new home, I was more than happy to oblige. Me and Rio were shipped away to Blackberry Lake, where nobody gave a shit about how fucked you were as long as you could play the game with a little competence.
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SHININ' WITH THE GLEAM CHAIN
[/FONT]AND YOUR HONEY GIVIN' ME BRAIN, YOU CAN CATCH ME WATCHIN' AI[/FONT][/CENTER][/COLOR]
"Well you can blame your darling mother for that part." He shook his head, everything always lead back to her with him, she had moulded him into what she wanted and what she wanted was a girl. A beautiful little girl with long hair and beaming blue eyes, of course she was bound to be bitterly disappointed with Willow. He wasn't anything like the little girl she wanted, and when Rio came along, well, she just about fawned over the little boy. He was pretty much everything she could have asked for, or as close as she would be getting. Willow could only presume that if she had a girl she would have lost interest in Rio just like that, it wouldn't surprise him. She'd never been particularly faithful to anybody. "You are. You're stinking drunk, and I mean stinking literally, which suits me fine because by tomorrow morning you won't remember a thing." He smiled sicklily(so not a word) at his brother. Willow snorted at that statement, laughing so that his body shook a little. "You wouldn't say that if you were sober, though, would you Rio? In fact you'd be absolutely horrified at the thought." He chuckled, "I don't stab people, I cut people. There's a very big difference." He nodded, at least, in his mind that's how he saw it. Stabbing was agressive, and people wouldn't let him do that. But cutting, that was different, cutting could be done delicately to some extent. People didn't mind it, in fact, some even enjoyed him doing it to them. "You don't feel sick now, but knowing you you'll say that and then projectile vomit or something." He snapped, fairly harshly at his brother. He was getting tired of this game already, and would much rather be out of the school grounds. "Dad wasn't a prick." Willow snapped again, although the sting was taken away as he said it a little softer than before, mostly because he'd just heard 'mummy's little boy' call her a fuck up. Willow rolled his eyes, they had each other? Yeah, because that was so true, he went to retort but was a little taken aback by a head nuzzling into his chest. Well, that was another ruined waistcoat. He shuddered slightly, his face twisting with something that could be either anger or shock, Willow wasn't entirely sure. "You don't love me, just like I don't love you. You're drunk. And if you weren't those words wouldn't ever leave your mouth, so don't bother saying them now." He said blankly, not even bothering to look down at Rio. Willow let his arm go from around his brothers waist, where he had been supporting him, not even turning to look at what was inevitably happening. The wretching and splatting noises made it evident. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a slightly blood spattered hankerchief, before passing it to his brother. "Clean up, I don't want to smell of sick too." Why was his brother so shit? Really? Willow might come back to the school completely off his face, but he could handle it well enough to be able to get back to the dorm without needing to be walked back by the feminine thing. He could stumble back without anybody worrying about him not actually winding back in the dorm, and if they did worry it would all be to no avail as Willow would be there eventually laughing and smiling and clapping every so often, granted, at the time he would also be covered in somebody elses blood, but that was besides the point. He always got back, looking relatively normal.
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 !
