Post by aofangles on Mar 22, 2011 0:31:11 GMT -5
[/font]RILEYGABRIELD'ARC-DEL CRUZ!?
[/center]Hey! I go by Aaron. I am Do the math: Four Times Three Plus Two and I'm loving it. I have been roleplaying for three years and I don't plan on stopping any time soon. I have no other on this site and I think that needs to change. If you want to contact me you can by emailing me..
Name: Riley Gabriel D’Arc-Del Cruz
Nickname: Riot, Riri (don’t use that one unless you’ve slept with him), MH, Motorhead, “BOY!” (father-only), Gabby (also father-only).
Age: sixteen
Gender: Male, if you *must * pigeon-hole him.
Sexuality: His Kinsey Scale is about a 4.7, so bisexual leaning gay.
Member Group: Demigod sophomore – son of Hermes.
Appearance: A short man walks into the room – you judge him to be about 5’7”. He looks about 40, and you think he’s the teacher. So does many other kids. People shut up and take their seats. He looks at them with flashy green eyes, an odd smile playing on his lips – which look like he jacked them off a teen model. He’s wearing an expensive-looking sports jacket over a black dress-shirt and white tie, with black skinny jeans & Converse. He brushes a stray piece of his proto-emo hair out of his eyes. You think to yourself, hey, I saw that kid at registration, but didn’t he have bottle blonde hair? Now it’s black with one blond highlight... He says, in a kinda’ high voice, “I am I that pretty that you must stare so?” and passes by you to go sit in the back, leaving the lingering sent of cigarettes and axe.
Later, you pass by the abandoned building to see him smoking with a small group of friends, shirt off, displaying a patch-work of colorful tattoos.
Personality: The above is Riley Gabriel D'Arc-Del Cruz. He's arrogant, thinking that everyone, with little exception, is born to please him, otherwise they aren't worth his attentions, and fashion obsessed, spending about 200 a fortnight on clothes and make-up. Riley also sees the world as his stage, and acts accordingly On the flip side, Riley's smart: he may get c's and barely so, but he can play just about any Western instrument that he comes across, including guitar, piano, and drums, and he working on Sitar. Riley also could out-debate many politicians.
However, behind the arrogance and the talent is a world of untreated OCD, drug problems and not enough self-esteem to power a fleamobile half-way around a fruit loop...
Likes: fashion, politics, music (punk-rock, mostly), reading, the color purple, most animals, and running
Dislikes: dirt, clocks ticking, spiders and small yappy dogs, people chewing loudly or cracking their knuckles, and meat.
Mother: Maria D'Arc, 36, housewife/socialite
Father: (step) David Del Cruz, 57, CEO of a oil/water conglomerate, with a side of drug trafficking (bio) Hermes, 3000-ish, god
Siblings: Sura Ariella D'Arc-Del Cruz, 15, student (half), Chase Rafael D'Arc-Del Cruz, 16, student and Riley's twin
Pets: Atomic the hedgehog
History: Riley's mother was known to tell this story about his father:
"I met him at a party when I was young and stupid, he wove a pretty tale and I fell in to that glittering trap. Hence you two. But, might I remind the both of you who your father is: my husband, who has sheltered and fed you for 16 years. Be grateful."
Riley and his twin went to the best privet schools that California and New York could offer and had grad students for tutors in middle school. Sura went to a year-round arts school from the time she turned 7 that cost about 10,000 - a month. When Riley entered freshman year, his mother convinced his father to send him, and his twin to Richmond HS. David would later say, "something about her tone said that it would be a bad idea to disagree."
When Riley was told the identity of his father, he thought it was an elaborately planned April Fool's joke - and he still thinks that to this day - "I mean, I haven't been shown any evidence, hell, I haven't even meet the guy. How do I know he's even real? To be honest, thinking that my dad was some anon' rich playboy kept things simple. Now I've got to balance my atheism with being told my dad is a god.". Perhaps the highlight of the year, however was when he was in Creative Writing and started hitting on the wrong son of Chronos, resulting in him looking 35 instead of 15 - "I can push it down to 30 with make-up!"
Code Word: -removed by admin-
Roleplay Post
Not a RP post per-say (I lost all my samples when the admin of my old site lost her last marble...), but general proof that I can write:
"Welcome to Angel City," the sign reads. Beyond the sign, a perfect town is laid out - the appropriate church every ten blocks, neat, single story homes with white picket fences in the front yard and golden retrievers in the the back yard. This, this is the north side of Angel City.
The south side tells a different story. Tall apartment blocks, cold and grey looms over mean little houses squatting next to the steal temples of industry. But in the streets, come the sounds of life. All manors of music, songs of overcoming, rebelling and falling and failing. There is is dancing, too.
On the north side, all is quite, all is dead.
Standing at the dividing lines, Townsend Road and the famously misspelled Kerta Rose Lane is Riley Cruz, our protagonist.
-------------------
Riley was a skinny kid of about sixteen. Nay, skinny was an understatement. This boy, with his straightener damaged ravin black hair and bright green eyes was emaciated. He was waiting, hands on jutting hips, under a pair of jogging shoes slung up on a telephone wire.
It was cold morning, and the Riley's reason for being there was keeping him waiting. As the the minutes passed by, Riley, now shivering, regarded his surroundings. He was in the only mixed income area of town, expensive towns homes of the North side mingled with the bland grey apartments of the South. A door opened, and a man waved Riley into one of the townhouses.
The south side tells a different story. Tall apartment blocks, cold and grey looms over mean little houses squatting next to the steal temples of industry. But in the streets, come the sounds of life. All manors of music, songs of overcoming, rebelling and falling and failing. There is is dancing, too.
On the north side, all is quite, all is dead.
Standing at the dividing lines, Townsend Road and the famously misspelled Kerta Rose Lane is Riley Cruz, our protagonist.
-------------------
Riley was a skinny kid of about sixteen. Nay, skinny was an understatement. This boy, with his straightener damaged ravin black hair and bright green eyes was emaciated. He was waiting, hands on jutting hips, under a pair of jogging shoes slung up on a telephone wire.
It was cold morning, and the Riley's reason for being there was keeping him waiting. As the the minutes passed by, Riley, now shivering, regarded his surroundings. He was in the only mixed income area of town, expensive towns homes of the North side mingled with the bland grey apartments of the South. A door opened, and a man waved Riley into one of the townhouses.
