Post by reokeo on Jun 26, 2013 1:04:38 GMT -5
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we both pretended, and we did it well.
we both pretended, and we did it well.
About My Character:
Full Name: Kazek Siewicz ( no middle name, ethnicity: polish )
Nickname: Kaze
Age: (17 years old Nov 14 1995)
Gender: Male
Grade: Senior
Sports/Clubs: None
Appearance: Thick, wild, and out of control dark brown hair. Aside from a cleanly dressed body and outstanding hygiene, his hair protrudes out in different directions, and is often messy. As much as it bothers him, he fidgets too much throughout the day and grabs at his hair when he's uncomfortable, which makes it almost impossible for it to stay in the right place. He has dark eyes and an olive skin tone. With bags under his eyelids and chapped lips, Kazek often looks tired and distressed, but because he comes from a rather wealthy background he is always dressed in nice clothing and looks clean-cut from the neck down.
Personality: Obsessive compulsive, innocent, anxious, stressed, tired and paranoid. His hands must be washed, his clothes must be clean. Always. He changes his clothing close to 6 times a day and needs to wash his hands periodically, this is a direct result of a past trauma, and is his way of coping with it. He is extremely uncomfortable with physical contact, and relates it to violence. He loves the company of others, but he's often very quiet and struggles in social situations. When he does become comfortable with a person, however, he is likely to get extremely protective, and will remain loyal until the day he dies. He gets an average of 4-5 hours of sleep a night, resulting in the bags under his eyelids. He is obedient and well-mannered, a trait he has possessed his entire life, he has a hard time standing up for himself, and over the past four years he has grown more and more introverted, shy, and timid.
Background:
"I grew up with a single mother. She is a very sweet woman, my poor mother. She was once beautiful, but time has not been kind to her. Still, she is beautiful to me. You see, because of the money that she had it was difficult for her to find a good husband. She was constantly seeking love, and because of this I was left alone quite often throughout my adolescence. I didn't mind though, she was always there for me when it counted. And I will be there for her, always, even if she can't understand why I had done it.
In a predominately polish neighborhood, I grew up attending a public school. It humbled me in more ways than one and although it may be hard to believe, I did have quite a few good friends. Most were from lower-class struggling families and worked several jobs to keep food on the tables. Although we came from drastically different social classes it somehow did not matter, we were family.
I often brought money and clothes for my friend Anastazy and his family, you see his father worked at the coal mine and farmed. His mother worked in the Deli, as well as fostered the mentally ill children. They were a nice family, with big hearts. They had almost nothing for the children, so I brought what I could. In turn, my mother was always given the freshest vegetables from the farm, and best cuts of meat from their Deli.
The families all had a support system, supplying each other with what they could and trading amongst themselves to survive. I remember I could always walk into one's house and feel welcome, like I belonged there. The mothers got together every weekend to talk about their children and husbands and how hard their work was. And my poor mother, running, frantically would try to find her worst pair of clothes before she joined them, so she could fabricate stories about her work, her husband, and her child. Usually she loved to dress in fancy expensive gowns and jewelry to look nice for my father and other men, but when she went to meet the mothers, she would dress so simply. My mother was like this you see, she often changed her appearance, or the way she acted to gain the affection of somebody else. Why couldn't she just see I loved her the way she was? And even though the other mothers could see right through her, they listened to her fabricated stories of her work and husband and child, and accepted her. This continued for years until we had gotten older, and the cruel nature of the world set in.
Annual safety procedures at the mine slowly grew brief and hurried. Anastazy and his father were blown to bits in a coal accident, the mine gave proper condolences and was shut down. The money stopped flowing into their household and his mother could not continue the foster business, and so she slowly lost touch with the world.
My father passed away when I was nearly twelve years old, I remember him, but I never knew him. He was a good man, mother says. He loved me and her very much and worked hard to make sure we had what we do now. He was a business man, any other detail about him I cannot recall.
My mother went into a depression for a year after his death and in this time I found that I had grown mature far earlier than any of my peers, and so we slowly grew apart. Death does this kind of thing to you. I suddenly felt responsible for everything, especially to take care of my mother after my father's passing. She had become delusional, thought she had found love again with a new man a year after, but she had not, I knew by the way he smiled.
He always smiled.
That smile that was fake, the smile that was forced. We both pretended, and we did it well. I pretended that I wasn't thinking these awful things. He pretended he was content, pretended he was in love with her. But he was not. He was in love with her money, and slowly he began to twist her mind and heart. I knew. He didn't have to explain himself, he couldn't. I didn't give him enough time.
After too many nights of a drunken rage I had enough of seeing my mother, pulled out from under the bed to be beaten, begging forgiveness for her mistakes and begging him to stay. I had enough of seeing the bruises on her arms, I had enough of seeing her aging face, I had enough of seeing her cry, I had enough of pulling her blinds up and begging her to come out of her room, begging her to step out of the darkness and remember what life and love felt like. Slowly she began to resent me, I've had enough of the games and the lying and the cheating and the violence, so I did what I had to.
She screamed when she found him.
She wanted nothing to do with me, she was appalled, horrified, she couldn't understand that I had done it for her. That I was only protecting her. She couldn't stand the sight of me and after four years of the court system and psycho-analysis alongside other boys with severe psychiatric issues, she requested I be sent to a school out of state and no longer wanted to be my legal guardian.
It broke my heart."
About Me:
What should we call you? well as you know, my name is danny.
How old are you? i am 18 years old.
How long have you been role playing/writing? wow forever... since like 9 or 10 years old?
How did you find us? hehe... well originally i think i found you on neopets.
Are you planning on bringing anymore characters? not really.. i mean i have a really tough time with characters, there's very few characters which i'm actually attached to enough to roleplay a lot, kazek being one of them. so if i ever did bring in another character they're very likely to never get played. so i won't.
What time zone are you in? Eastern
How often will you be able to come on? a lot LOL
Is there any other way we can contact you? yep, i've got pretty much everything just ask me.
Full Name: Kazek Siewicz ( no middle name, ethnicity: polish )
Nickname: Kaze
Age: (17 years old Nov 14 1995)
Gender: Male
Grade: Senior
Sports/Clubs: None
Appearance: Thick, wild, and out of control dark brown hair. Aside from a cleanly dressed body and outstanding hygiene, his hair protrudes out in different directions, and is often messy. As much as it bothers him, he fidgets too much throughout the day and grabs at his hair when he's uncomfortable, which makes it almost impossible for it to stay in the right place. He has dark eyes and an olive skin tone. With bags under his eyelids and chapped lips, Kazek often looks tired and distressed, but because he comes from a rather wealthy background he is always dressed in nice clothing and looks clean-cut from the neck down.
Personality: Obsessive compulsive, innocent, anxious, stressed, tired and paranoid. His hands must be washed, his clothes must be clean. Always. He changes his clothing close to 6 times a day and needs to wash his hands periodically, this is a direct result of a past trauma, and is his way of coping with it. He is extremely uncomfortable with physical contact, and relates it to violence. He loves the company of others, but he's often very quiet and struggles in social situations. When he does become comfortable with a person, however, he is likely to get extremely protective, and will remain loyal until the day he dies. He gets an average of 4-5 hours of sleep a night, resulting in the bags under his eyelids. He is obedient and well-mannered, a trait he has possessed his entire life, he has a hard time standing up for himself, and over the past four years he has grown more and more introverted, shy, and timid.
Background:
"I grew up with a single mother. She is a very sweet woman, my poor mother. She was once beautiful, but time has not been kind to her. Still, she is beautiful to me. You see, because of the money that she had it was difficult for her to find a good husband. She was constantly seeking love, and because of this I was left alone quite often throughout my adolescence. I didn't mind though, she was always there for me when it counted. And I will be there for her, always, even if she can't understand why I had done it.
In a predominately polish neighborhood, I grew up attending a public school. It humbled me in more ways than one and although it may be hard to believe, I did have quite a few good friends. Most were from lower-class struggling families and worked several jobs to keep food on the tables. Although we came from drastically different social classes it somehow did not matter, we were family.
I often brought money and clothes for my friend Anastazy and his family, you see his father worked at the coal mine and farmed. His mother worked in the Deli, as well as fostered the mentally ill children. They were a nice family, with big hearts. They had almost nothing for the children, so I brought what I could. In turn, my mother was always given the freshest vegetables from the farm, and best cuts of meat from their Deli.
The families all had a support system, supplying each other with what they could and trading amongst themselves to survive. I remember I could always walk into one's house and feel welcome, like I belonged there. The mothers got together every weekend to talk about their children and husbands and how hard their work was. And my poor mother, running, frantically would try to find her worst pair of clothes before she joined them, so she could fabricate stories about her work, her husband, and her child. Usually she loved to dress in fancy expensive gowns and jewelry to look nice for my father and other men, but when she went to meet the mothers, she would dress so simply. My mother was like this you see, she often changed her appearance, or the way she acted to gain the affection of somebody else. Why couldn't she just see I loved her the way she was? And even though the other mothers could see right through her, they listened to her fabricated stories of her work and husband and child, and accepted her. This continued for years until we had gotten older, and the cruel nature of the world set in.
Annual safety procedures at the mine slowly grew brief and hurried. Anastazy and his father were blown to bits in a coal accident, the mine gave proper condolences and was shut down. The money stopped flowing into their household and his mother could not continue the foster business, and so she slowly lost touch with the world.
My father passed away when I was nearly twelve years old, I remember him, but I never knew him. He was a good man, mother says. He loved me and her very much and worked hard to make sure we had what we do now. He was a business man, any other detail about him I cannot recall.
My mother went into a depression for a year after his death and in this time I found that I had grown mature far earlier than any of my peers, and so we slowly grew apart. Death does this kind of thing to you. I suddenly felt responsible for everything, especially to take care of my mother after my father's passing. She had become delusional, thought she had found love again with a new man a year after, but she had not, I knew by the way he smiled.
He always smiled.
That smile that was fake, the smile that was forced. We both pretended, and we did it well. I pretended that I wasn't thinking these awful things. He pretended he was content, pretended he was in love with her. But he was not. He was in love with her money, and slowly he began to twist her mind and heart. I knew. He didn't have to explain himself, he couldn't. I didn't give him enough time.
After too many nights of a drunken rage I had enough of seeing my mother, pulled out from under the bed to be beaten, begging forgiveness for her mistakes and begging him to stay. I had enough of seeing the bruises on her arms, I had enough of seeing her aging face, I had enough of seeing her cry, I had enough of pulling her blinds up and begging her to come out of her room, begging her to step out of the darkness and remember what life and love felt like. Slowly she began to resent me, I've had enough of the games and the lying and the cheating and the violence, so I did what I had to.
She screamed when she found him.
She wanted nothing to do with me, she was appalled, horrified, she couldn't understand that I had done it for her. That I was only protecting her. She couldn't stand the sight of me and after four years of the court system and psycho-analysis alongside other boys with severe psychiatric issues, she requested I be sent to a school out of state and no longer wanted to be my legal guardian.
It broke my heart."
About Me:
What should we call you? well as you know, my name is danny.
How old are you? i am 18 years old.
How long have you been role playing/writing? wow forever... since like 9 or 10 years old?
How did you find us? hehe... well originally i think i found you on neopets.
Are you planning on bringing anymore characters? not really.. i mean i have a really tough time with characters, there's very few characters which i'm actually attached to enough to roleplay a lot, kazek being one of them. so if i ever did bring in another character they're very likely to never get played. so i won't.
What time zone are you in? Eastern
How often will you be able to come on? a lot LOL
Is there any other way we can contact you? yep, i've got pretty much everything just ask me.
