Post by dezi on Sept 7, 2009 14:10:11 GMT -5
K.B.
**My Icon. I can't find a good picture**
[/size]**My Icon. I can't find a good picture**
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...The Face Behind the Mask
[/size][/center][/b]Name: Dezi // Matt
Age: 16
Gender: >3
Roleplaying Experience: 3 now?
How you came to our lovely site?: Suke hun~
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...New Face..Ever Changing Place
[/size][/center][/b]Name: Kan Bohem
Gender: Male
Age: 17
Hair Color: Soft brown, messy adn falls down his neck.
Eye Color: Green
Height: 5'7
Weight: 130
Sexual Preferance: Pansexual
Parents:
~Father :: Eric Bohem
Sibling/s[If Any]:
~ Brother :: Derek - 26 [/size]
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...Deep Down..What Makes you Itch..Makes You Tick
[/size][/center][/b]Likes:
~ Music
~ Singing
~ Bright Colors
~ Sweets
~ Laughing/Making others laugh
~ Painting
~ Small Animals
~ History
Dislikes:
~ Know-it-alls
~ Popular type kids
~ Being undermined
~ Being told ‘No’
~ People fighting
~ Rules
~ Bland colors
~ Home-Work
Nervous Habits:
~ Toys with his necklace
~ turns into Epic!klutz
Fears:
~ Quick-sand
~ Grasshoppers
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...What Do You See In The Mirror And Believe..
[/size][/center][/b]Appearance: minimum of one paragraph
Personality: K.B. is a very upbeat, fun-loving type of kid. He loves to goof around and play with others and make people laugh. He is always teasing people but never means for any of it to go to heart. He’s a bit out there and is known for blurting random things. He’s very cheerful and hardly anything gets to him, well that he lets show. When hurt J.B. is the type to hold it in and never tell people when he’s hurt. He doesn’t like to complain to people, but oddly he always takes the time to listen to others. He’s a very open, cheerful boy who wears his heart on his sleeve. He always gives his all and always puts others before himself. [/size]
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...A Touch Of The Past..
[/size][/center][/b]History:
K.B. Was born into a home with his mother and father. They had a child young and weren’t rolling in the dough so growing up in this home was rather hard. He wasn’t the first child of course. He had an older brother, Derek. He was 10 when K.B. was born. He didn’t like J.B. He didn’t like him at all. The two never got along, from the time J.B. learned to walk Derek would be shoving him down, pushing and kicking him around, not letting him walk down a hall without doing some harm. J.B. never complained. Years rolled by and school started. Soon J.B. found something he liked and it helped keep him out of the house. But unlike most boys it wasn’t sports, it was singing. He loved to sing. Many hours after school he would sneak into the music room and sit at the piano, playing the tunes printed on the book before him, singing to himself. He sang everything, every show piece, every show intro and even those little random songs no one really knows what the hell they meant. Soon he stole a small radio from a department store and would sit in the music room, singing along to the radio. He lied and told his parents he was assigned to a school pet and that was what kept he away for so long. It went on for years. He would get up early, get to school before the bell and play the piano a bit then rush off before the music teacher came in, do all his classes and finish all his work during lunch then after school would spend hours in there singing. Some times he was there till it got dark and had to make up may lies for his parents. Sure he felt bad about lying, but he felt singing was much more important. His little dream lasted a while till he reached the 7th grade. He was 13 and even in his new Jr. high he was still doing the same thing, staying out late but this time used an after school program as his lie. Him and his brother still didn’t get alone (well his brother ignored his existence till he actually had him alone then would shove him into a wall). He and his mother didn’t speak much and at times his Father would call him Derek, forgetting K.B.s name. Well one day he stayed after and was sitting against the wall, the radio in his lap as he was singing when someone came into the music room, his brother. The older boy had been forced to pick him up and needless to say he was shocked to find his younger brother sitting there, singing. They stared for a few moments before Derek walked to a guitar and picked it up, testing it out before playing along to the song. K.B. was confused but started singing anyways. They stayed there for hours, playing and singing. It was way past curfew when they returned. They never said a word once and right away went to their rooms. J.B. Never knew his brother played guitar. They never spoke of that night, but J.B. wasn’t shoved into the walls anymore.
A year passed and their mother died, killing in a car accident. J.B. didn’t go. To him it was like seeing a stranger in a casket and having to cry. Instead he sat on his roof, picking the petals off a rose and let them drift to the world below. His brother joined him in the roof, guitar in hand. J.B. and him said nothing but he started to play and the younger started to sing. Soft sad melodies. That was their good-bie to the one they barely knew yet addressed as ‘mother’.
At 25 Derek moved out. A year after their mother died. K.B. and him never said good-bie but that night the younger sang himself to sleep, and though he did not cry, he felt a slight ache in his heart. Now it was just him and his father. His father had been drinking long before their mother died but when she did he started to hit the bottle hard and since Derek was out of the picture to hid the drink he was taking two bottles a night almost and in his drunken rage (and hung-over states) he would yell and scream at K.B., blaming the boy for everything. He simply sat there, taking in all the words and letting himself be yelled at and at times rough handled before fixing himself up and heading to bed and in the morning cleaning up and setting out water and pain-killers for his father. K.B. still stayed after school to sing, just not as long cause now he had to get a part-time job to pay for the bills his father so kindly ignored. Times were tough, but K.B. still had a smile and proved he was tougher. Sometimes his brother sends him CDs of his guitar recordings. Those were K.B’s favorite CD’s.
RP Sample: **Skipping cause I hate this part**
