Post by Kylar Fox on Apr 2, 2013 1:33:59 GMT -5
Kylar "Kye" Marshall Fox ~ Male ~ Sixteen ~ Sophomore
Occupation ~ Pot head and dealer on the DL
Member of the Somerset Mathletes Team
~ Appearance
What do you see first when you look at someone? Kye sees their eyes. He's envious of others because his are a plain grey color with long black lashes. They're large, and often bloodshot do to his after school activities. He has muddy blonde hair the he'll straighten once in a blue moon; other than that, it's just wavy or curly, depending on the humidity levels. Kye has a heart shaped face with small yet full lips and a cute, undented chin. He often has a grin or closed smile on his face, but his frowns are heartbreaking.
His build is nothing to really get excited about, he doesn't/ It's just pretty basic, not much tone, skin on the lighter side and strong, sturdy hands. Kye stands in the ball park at 5'8 1/2" and isn't really sure, nor does he give a shit about his weight. A lot of people would say he was scrawny, but he's just naturally a small-boned skinny kind of guy and he's fine with that.
I'm not really sure how to describe his wardrobe. He wears a lot of hoodies and jackets, a lot of tee shirts, always dark jeans, and a lot of stripes. Okay, not a lot of stripes but he definitely has a thing for them - like his black military boots. But basically, cool shirts and a pair of jeans. Oh! And his beanies. He loves his beanies.
~ Personality
Kye is a very, very opinionated young man. He often doesn't realize that sometimes his words can hurt people but if it gets back to him, he probably won't care. It's nothing personal, and don't think of him as some emotionless douche bag because he holds a lot back and hides a lot from people, even his closest friends.
He's a generally happy person. He's just as sharp as a freshly sharpened pencil when he's not blazed, which explains why he is a mathlete. He's a genius, really, more specifically with analytical things like numbers, problem solving, and marketing. Kye has a heightened state of street smarts too, especially now that he's dabbing into dealing. There's always that chance to slip up though, and I'm sure it's going to happen sooner than later.
In a nutshell, Kye is a free-spirited jokester who sees the world in another light. He wants the best for his friends and often puts them before himself. He actually likes school, he likes socializing and he enjoys being the life of the party. Bring it on.
What do you see first when you look at someone? Kye sees their eyes. He's envious of others because his are a plain grey color with long black lashes. They're large, and often bloodshot do to his after school activities. He has muddy blonde hair the he'll straighten once in a blue moon; other than that, it's just wavy or curly, depending on the humidity levels. Kye has a heart shaped face with small yet full lips and a cute, undented chin. He often has a grin or closed smile on his face, but his frowns are heartbreaking.
His build is nothing to really get excited about, he doesn't/ It's just pretty basic, not much tone, skin on the lighter side and strong, sturdy hands. Kye stands in the ball park at 5'8 1/2" and isn't really sure, nor does he give a shit about his weight. A lot of people would say he was scrawny, but he's just naturally a small-boned skinny kind of guy and he's fine with that.
I'm not really sure how to describe his wardrobe. He wears a lot of hoodies and jackets, a lot of tee shirts, always dark jeans, and a lot of stripes. Okay, not a lot of stripes but he definitely has a thing for them - like his black military boots. But basically, cool shirts and a pair of jeans. Oh! And his beanies. He loves his beanies.
~ Personality
Kye is a very, very opinionated young man. He often doesn't realize that sometimes his words can hurt people but if it gets back to him, he probably won't care. It's nothing personal, and don't think of him as some emotionless douche bag because he holds a lot back and hides a lot from people, even his closest friends.
He's a generally happy person. He's just as sharp as a freshly sharpened pencil when he's not blazed, which explains why he is a mathlete. He's a genius, really, more specifically with analytical things like numbers, problem solving, and marketing. Kye has a heightened state of street smarts too, especially now that he's dabbing into dealing. There's always that chance to slip up though, and I'm sure it's going to happen sooner than later.
In a nutshell, Kye is a free-spirited jokester who sees the world in another light. He wants the best for his friends and often puts them before himself. He actually likes school, he likes socializing and he enjoys being the life of the party. Bring it on.
~Random Facts
- Smokes a lot of weed
- Genius
- Getting his feet wet in dealing drugs
- Obviously likes to party
- Lives with his aunt and uncle
- From Boston
- Takes a weird liking to things that might scare others
- Artistic - drawing
- Wonders what it feels like to get arrested
- Won't swim because he has a fear of drowning
- Is terrified of guns
- Rarely talks about his history - thinks it's irrelevant to the present
- Good friends with Baker Atkinson
Fox Tale written by Kylar M. Fox
Bad things happen to good people, to saints. Like my mother who was a strong, brilliant person that knew no stranger. My dad always said I had her brain and her smile, which was good because her smile good brighten anyone's day. She saved lives on a daily basis, but we couldn't save hers. You don't know what it's like, how it feels to be the death of someone. A lot of people die from accidents; alcohol, overdoses, car crashes, drowning.. Not many die because of their seven year old son. You don't hear about that one too often..
I had ventured into my parents closet looking for Christmas presents because that's where I thought they would hide them - that's where I found them last year. Being the little monkey I was, I'd climbed to the top in my quest and had knocked a brown cardboard box to the ground. Something had fallen out and out of curiosity, I jumped down to retrieve it. It looked like the water guns that I played with in the summer and bath time, but it was heavier and not brightly colored. It had a weird spinny-thing on it like the cowboys in my favorite movies had. I thought that was a score and I was sure my parents wouldn't mind me having an early Christmas present.
I took it into my room, pretending to shoot things with it, like my lamp with I pretended was an alien; or my closet door that I believed was a robot coming to invade my kingdom on the top bunk. I had to protect it! I had climbed up the wooden ladder and let off the fake gun shots. Pew pew! Pew pew! He was defeated by the Fox Knight! I felt victorious!
I heard someone coming up the stairs but I wasn't expecting them to come in my room. The foot steps were light so it had to have been my mom, she was going to be so proud that I killed the robot! I went to climb down to her as my door started to open. I guess my finger had hit the trigger, because we had both fallen to the floor from the sound. My ears were ringing and my head was spinning from the drop. Everything went dark after that.
When I woke up, my mom was still laying there. I thought she was asleep, but when I went to touch her, she was as cold as the snow on the ground outside. I got an eerie feeling right before I looked and saw the pool of blood that I was kneeling in. It had gotten dark outside, and I could hear my dad coming up the stairs, whistling just as he did every day when he got home from work. Scared I was going to get in trouble, I froze, not sure what to do first. He must have seen Mom's feet just outside my door because he came running the rest of the way.
I don't really remember much after that. I can recall the flashing lights and sirens and all the strangers in our house. Especially the ones that rolled my mom's body out in a black bag. I was scared. My dad had me assessed by a psychologist who recommended that I be kept for a week for whatever reason. They ran tests, asked me a shit ton of questions, put me under hypnosis, it was all really weird. Their conclusion was that nothing was wrong with me but that still didn't persuade my dad otherwise.
After that, we started to grow apart. He started drinking which got worse as I got older. He started staying home a lot more, spending hours in front of the television and less and less time with me. It got worse over the next three years.
He had come home one day in the spring, smelling like the same smoke-covered drunk that I had gotten used to. I overheard him on the phone with his sister about how he'd just quit his job and didn't think he could do it anymore. I didn't understand him then, y'know, what he meant. He was crying when he went to his room which wasn't really normal but I figured it was because he'd lost his job. I went on about my Saturday afternoon, eating whatever I wanted because he wasn't there to tell me otherwise, and watching all the cartoons my little heart desired. When it started to get dark out, I was beginning to worry. It wasn't like him to not at least check on me so I thought I would check on him.
I headed up the stairs and when I had reached the bedroom door, the same eerie feeling I had gotten when my mom died crept back up on me. The door was cracked, so I went on in by stopped dead in my tracks the second I saw. I didn't know whether to run, scream, cry or try to help so I stayed quiet and just dropped to the floor. My dad was hanging from the ceiling fan. I was ten years old.
The engraving my aunt and uncle chose read as such, "The stars we see are our loved ones showing us they care. That they are there, protecting you. Loving you. Always." In my mind, the stars we see are already dead.
The court awarded my aunt and uncle custody of me, and immediately moved us out of Boston. We relocated in New York City, somewhere I'd never been before. It was new and exciting, but as I got older I started hanging out with the wrong people. My aunt saw this and moved us again, me now being thirteen. We stayed in the same town, but with her new promotion, she found a nice house in a good neighborhood. At fourteen, she enrolled me at Somerset High School and I've been doing a lot better. Not not all things are golden though. Now I'm the kid people's families are afraid their child is going to get caught up with. I'm a dealer, I'm a partier, I fuck shit up because I guess I just don't care anymore. I don't want to change. I don't need to change.. I'm just trying to live.
Bad things happen to good people, to saints. Like my mother who was a strong, brilliant person that knew no stranger. My dad always said I had her brain and her smile, which was good because her smile good brighten anyone's day. She saved lives on a daily basis, but we couldn't save hers. You don't know what it's like, how it feels to be the death of someone. A lot of people die from accidents; alcohol, overdoses, car crashes, drowning.. Not many die because of their seven year old son. You don't hear about that one too often..
I had ventured into my parents closet looking for Christmas presents because that's where I thought they would hide them - that's where I found them last year. Being the little monkey I was, I'd climbed to the top in my quest and had knocked a brown cardboard box to the ground. Something had fallen out and out of curiosity, I jumped down to retrieve it. It looked like the water guns that I played with in the summer and bath time, but it was heavier and not brightly colored. It had a weird spinny-thing on it like the cowboys in my favorite movies had. I thought that was a score and I was sure my parents wouldn't mind me having an early Christmas present.
I took it into my room, pretending to shoot things with it, like my lamp with I pretended was an alien; or my closet door that I believed was a robot coming to invade my kingdom on the top bunk. I had to protect it! I had climbed up the wooden ladder and let off the fake gun shots. Pew pew! Pew pew! He was defeated by the Fox Knight! I felt victorious!
I heard someone coming up the stairs but I wasn't expecting them to come in my room. The foot steps were light so it had to have been my mom, she was going to be so proud that I killed the robot! I went to climb down to her as my door started to open. I guess my finger had hit the trigger, because we had both fallen to the floor from the sound. My ears were ringing and my head was spinning from the drop. Everything went dark after that.
When I woke up, my mom was still laying there. I thought she was asleep, but when I went to touch her, she was as cold as the snow on the ground outside. I got an eerie feeling right before I looked and saw the pool of blood that I was kneeling in. It had gotten dark outside, and I could hear my dad coming up the stairs, whistling just as he did every day when he got home from work. Scared I was going to get in trouble, I froze, not sure what to do first. He must have seen Mom's feet just outside my door because he came running the rest of the way.
I don't really remember much after that. I can recall the flashing lights and sirens and all the strangers in our house. Especially the ones that rolled my mom's body out in a black bag. I was scared. My dad had me assessed by a psychologist who recommended that I be kept for a week for whatever reason. They ran tests, asked me a shit ton of questions, put me under hypnosis, it was all really weird. Their conclusion was that nothing was wrong with me but that still didn't persuade my dad otherwise.
After that, we started to grow apart. He started drinking which got worse as I got older. He started staying home a lot more, spending hours in front of the television and less and less time with me. It got worse over the next three years.
He had come home one day in the spring, smelling like the same smoke-covered drunk that I had gotten used to. I overheard him on the phone with his sister about how he'd just quit his job and didn't think he could do it anymore. I didn't understand him then, y'know, what he meant. He was crying when he went to his room which wasn't really normal but I figured it was because he'd lost his job. I went on about my Saturday afternoon, eating whatever I wanted because he wasn't there to tell me otherwise, and watching all the cartoons my little heart desired. When it started to get dark out, I was beginning to worry. It wasn't like him to not at least check on me so I thought I would check on him.
I headed up the stairs and when I had reached the bedroom door, the same eerie feeling I had gotten when my mom died crept back up on me. The door was cracked, so I went on in by stopped dead in my tracks the second I saw. I didn't know whether to run, scream, cry or try to help so I stayed quiet and just dropped to the floor. My dad was hanging from the ceiling fan. I was ten years old.
The engraving my aunt and uncle chose read as such, "The stars we see are our loved ones showing us they care. That they are there, protecting you. Loving you. Always." In my mind, the stars we see are already dead.
The court awarded my aunt and uncle custody of me, and immediately moved us out of Boston. We relocated in New York City, somewhere I'd never been before. It was new and exciting, but as I got older I started hanging out with the wrong people. My aunt saw this and moved us again, me now being thirteen. We stayed in the same town, but with her new promotion, she found a nice house in a good neighborhood. At fourteen, she enrolled me at Somerset High School and I've been doing a lot better. Not not all things are golden though. Now I'm the kid people's families are afraid their child is going to get caught up with. I'm a dealer, I'm a partier, I fuck shit up because I guess I just don't care anymore. I don't want to change. I don't need to change.. I'm just trying to live.
Kye would like that very much. <3
