Post by *STORM EBONY WILSON! on Dec 20, 2009 18:07:01 GMT -5
And yes my name is,
[/size]StormEbonyWilson[/font][/size]
I don't think you trust
In my self righteous suicide
I cry when angels deserve to die [/size][/color][/center]
It will all fall into place,
And I just have to know, who are you? Alexandra ‘Storm’ Ebony Wilson.
So how many years have you walked this earth? Twenty
Whats the exact date you began to breath? December 15th
Curiosity isn't a burden, whats your sexuality? Straight
Hm... I can pin point it but what sex are you? Female
Woah! So how did your character come to be? Canon
So who are your friends and whats your partake? I make scenes burn, drummer betch
You look familiar. Do I know you from somewhere? Apparently I look like Jac Vanek.
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This is who I am,
What do you like, love, or desire exactly?
Childish things, playing the drums, my band, Zane Alexander Tyson, animals, feeling secure, sex (yeahbby), silk sheets, Tim Tams, energy drinks, good sleep ins, hugs&kisses, video games,, loud music, my iPod & phone, anime/manga, modelling, photography, writing songs, partying & drinking, & I also like two minute noodles.
And you seem to hate alot, what do you dispise?
Dogs, dolls, making eye contact, large crowds, my nervous breakdowns, I think that aliens are watching us… people who kidnap others for no reason, being alone in my tour bus, knowing doors & windows are unlocked when I’m trying to sleep, hangovers, feet (they’re just…ew), animal cruelty, not getting what I want, blood, & walking around in the dark.
We all feel like a surge of energy lies within us.
I’m actually pretty intelligent; the things I say will shock most, but people who know me will know its normal for me to have a random smart moment.
I can hold a conversation for quite some time; it can be on any subject, even random things. So long as you keep me laughing, I’ll keep talking.
I’m able to speak about my parents deaths smoothly without cracking; so long as it isn’t a long talk, and doesn’t go into details I’ll be fine.
Oh, I’m also a dancer, so I’m good at controlling my body movements (and am flexible as well =])
And I know that you can be that positive, so your weak?
I hate making eye contact… so I pretend I’m blind and always look down. I’ve done it ever since my parents died, and have gotten very good at it. Only my band & family has ever had me make eye contact with them… but on stage, I don’t need to pretend.
I hate being stuck in large crowds… I often have nervous breakdowns when that happens.
My weakness… is Zane Tyson. He seems to be the only one who can keep me from snapping, and vice versa. But I’m just… I dunno, it doesn’t seem like we feel the same way towards each other.
Knowing that one day… I’m gonna have to face all of my fears. Whether I like it or not.
I wanna know how you see youself, explain in your words.
Well… I’m not exactly going to rant about how good looking I am and how perfect my body is. Because, clearly I’m not. I don’t see myself that way, some people even think I put myself down to often. I’ve always been short, standing at 5’3”, but my body makes up for the height I loss. I’ve got what people call a ‘dancers’ body, which is nicely toned with muscle, but not too much on the butch side. My skin is a nice light brown colour, but not too tanned. I often burn instead of tan, and this is just my natural colour.
My hair has always been a sort of… white blonde, you might call it. It’s not all white, and not all blonde, so yeah, it’s kind of in between them. I put coloured streaks through it almost every fortnight, whether it be one colour or a wide range of colours, its just a plain habit to do it. I have soft facial features; everything perfectly suits my face, not too big and not too small. My eyes are a boring dark brown, but they have some random splotches of lighter brown and what seems to be yellow. I would try wearing contacts… but yeah, I don’t like having things put into my eyes.
Adittudes can kill too, what is your personality?
For one thing, I a bit out there compared to some people. I’m not exactly the most… normal person personality wise. My mood swings confuse people, and the way I talk and act (body language wise) makes them think I’m some sort of weirdo. First off; I’m as odd as a fish with legs and as childish as one could get when they’re my age. The smallest things keep me entertained, and I can start a conversation faster than you can say supercalafragalisticexpealadocious. Wow, I dunno how to spell that. Anyways, I’ve been told by my band members that I have the ability to make people smile when they’re down, and I also amuse them by the things I say. So I’m guessing I’m generally a bright, loveable person, ey?
I have a few strange fears… and I’m not sure how they came to be. I always have this, paranoid feeling I’m being watched by something out of this world, like aliens. I don’t really tell anyone, but I believe that there actually is something outside of our world that we don’t know about… and somehow are trying to plot against us and destroy our race. I also get very, very paranoid when I go to bed at night. Why? Well, have you forgotten whether you’ve locked the door, locked a window or whether you did something right or not? Well, it happens to me a lot, and I often get sleepless nights because of it unless I get up and make sure. Don’t ask me why I do it, it’s probably another thing I picked up after my parents died.
Another thing is that I like to pretend I’m blind to avoid eye contact with people I don’t know and like. Ever since my parents murder when I was younger, I’ve never looked anybody in the eye unless they’re extremely close to me. It’s not that I don’t like looking into people’s eyes, but I’m just afraid that if its to a person I don’t like, I’ll be reminded of the look in the killers eyes as he killed my parents before my eyes as I hid in the closet. If out in public, I often either have Zane walking around with me, as if pretending to escort me places and make sure I’m safe, or I have one of the other band members or this little… walking sticky thing I bought online.
Your looking pretty stupid, do you dress like that often?
My wardrobe is chock-a-block with clothes that I barely wear. Mostly, I mix and match with the things I own rather than buying new things, which I’ve been doing for quite some time. But trust me, as soon as the new summer or winter range comes in, I give my old clothes to charity and go have a spending spree on new clothes for the season. I range from brightly coloured to full matching attire including makeup & shoes. I wear jeans, dresses, skirts, shorts, leggings, shirts, cardigans, hoodies & jumpers, etc.
As for shoes, I’m not all too picky with shoes. So long as I have one colour of each type, and a variety of different sized heels, different patterned converse and different colour and style UGG boots, I’ll be absolutely fine. Like I said, I’m not fussy with shoes so long as they go with the outfit I’m wearing.[/size][/color]
My past is nothing special,
[/size][/font][/center]Dear i'd love to know who your parents are?
Georgia Wilson – thirty-six – was an air hostess-- was murdered
Anders Wilson -- forty—drug dealer/ weapons creator – was murdered
Harmony tyson -- fourty four-- pediatrician -- adoptive mother.
Owen tyson -- fourty five-- lawyer - adoptive father.
Did you have someone to argue with when you were younger?
Zane Alexander Tyson -- twenty – lead singer&guitarist of ‘I make scenes burn’ – adoptive brother.
Phoenix Isaac Tyson -- six -- first grader- adoptive brother
Peyton August Tyson -- fourteen -- ninth grader- adoptive brother
Any wild animals running around your house?
Oreo -- cat -- Chinadoll (chinchilla x ragdoll) – Grey,White&Black – 15 months old
So I wanna know about your past, present, and maybe even future?
First of all, I’m originally from Queensland, Australia. My mother and father, Anders and Georgie Wilson, met at a dinner party their parents were holding, and as soon as they laid eyes on each other, they knew it was love (cheesy, I know, I kinda don’t believe it). They wed a few years later, then decided on trying for a baby. Unfortunately, my mother and father weren’t capable of making a baby the ‘natural’ way, so they resorted to getting IVF. This worked, obviously, and here I am, their one and only miracle baby. I was their first, and last, born child.
I was brought home back to a large house by the beach, and guess what the first thing that happened was. That’s right, my parents believed it to be a good idea to by me a puppy as a welcome to the world present. And what type of dog you ask? A fucking big one. I was only a few months old when the damn thing got into my crib and tried to smother me. Good thing my parents had surveillance cameras, no? Needless to say, the dog was soon taken to the pound to be re-homed after that encounter. So, that my friends is why I’m absolutely terrified of dogs, even if they’re tiny wee little things.
My parents were rather successful in their job, my mother was an air hostess for one of the most popular airlines, whereas my father… Well, I never knew his job. I was surrounded by love, happiness and was rather spoilt as I grew up, getting the things that I wanted and what other kids couldn’t have. My schooling as well was top of the range, but I was pulled out after 2 years and thrown into home schooling with some of the finest teachers around. You could say my parents looked after me, well, they did at this age, just you wait. Alongside homeschooling, my father was once a drummer in a band, therefore, he started to teach me how to play. I enjoyed it immensely, whereas my mother grew tired of the noise we put in the house. They debated fro quite some time on what I should do – and whether it should be more girly- and came up with the idea that I do music, and dancing.
So yeah, my mother enrolled me at a ballet school which I did much more than would be considered healthy, whilst I did schooling, and drumming on the outside. But, at least I was only young and naïve back then and actually forced myself to believe that what I was put through was fun. I hit the age of ten, and I already had plenty of trophies, awards and medals under my belt for all three of my hobbies. I was showered with praise from my family, and every time I received an award, they added to this bracelet they’d brought me. It was sort of a charm bracelet; they’d given it to me when I was 7, and ever since they’ve added charms for things that I achieved. It was quite heavy, as it was solid gold, but I never complained, as per usual.
But; one night I stumbled upon my dad’s workshop down in the basement when I was running off after my bouncy ball which had gone through the open door. Downstairs were plants, big plants, growing underneath what looked like solar powered lights’. The air was muggy and stale. I ventured inside, not completely understanding what they were, not until I found the machine. Around the machine were all types of ingredients; poisons, pesticides, alcohol, medicine, so on and so forth. And at one end of the table, there were bowls and bowls of different coloured pills and pill bottles, all with a rather weird looking pictured stamped on them. And like most people my age, I grabbed one out of sheer curiosity. Luckily for me, well, kind of, my dad happened to come downstairs and see me about to put it in my mouth and stop me, but he also scolded me like crazy and told me that if I ever told my mother, I’d be locked in my room for the rest of my life.
I never told mum… and guess what? She found out the hard way. I was 11 when one of dads’ clients bombarded our house one night; storming in with guns pointed, duct tape & lots and lots of ammo. Fortunately for me, I was able to run and hide in my parents’ bedroom closet. But my parents… they were too slow. They were tied up to chairs in that room with tape over their mouths and guns pointed at their heads. And after 5 rounds… they were dead. I still remember the look on the murderers face as he grinned in sheer ecstasy as he blew my fathers brains out and all over the walls. I never came out of the closet until the policeman found me huddled up in a ball in a petrified state.
It took about a year of rehab to get me stable again, and I was soon put up for adoption. I travelled from house to house but no family could ever love me. I never looked at anyone after awhile, keeping my eyes down and pronouncing myself blind to the new families I met, and the people at the orphanage. I was in the orphan home for 2 years until I was I was adopted by the Tyson family, which consisted of a mother, father and two sons. One of which was the same age as me, and even though he wasn’t all too nice, he took a strong, protective manner over me and actually made me feel at home for once in so long. It was a little tense at first, not really knowing what things to do seeing as I was the awkward one and he knew of my situation. But, a few months into it, we both began opening up to each other more. Zane showed me the things he liked to do, and I showed him the same, we often went places together to adventure and see new things. He too liked music, singing and playing the guitar himself. We had random jam sessions together with songs that were in at that time. It was 16 when I realised I loved him, I had fallen in love with the boy who wasn’t blood related to me, but was still apart of my family. It was weird accepting this fact and being me, I tried to hide it because I knew that no one could ever really love someone like me after how broken I’d become.
Soon after, we left the care of his parents and went on our own way. Surprisingly, they let us leave without any hesitation since they were going on business trips and another honeymoon. And they believed I was the only person who was able to control him when he got mad, and vice versa. We were given a rather hefty amount of money to go and find somewhere to live and to travel, to buy clothes and to pretty much cater for ourselves. It was brilliant, even though we were really only 16 year olds in an adult world. But, we managed to go for it. We were in our own apartment by Christmas, and attending a new school together. We met --- Davis first at a gig we had gone to, and we learned that he was a guitarist. We grew to be close friends after awhile. Then, I came across my old friend --- Alexandov, whom I’d known through family connections. And that was how the 4 of us came to be together. It was a little rough at first where Zane always had to try and promise me they were good people. But, after awhile, I grew to learn they were. Another good thing was, they both played instruments; bass and guitar. Yeah, you guessed it, we created out own band called ‘I make scenes burn.’
After playing gigs for the rest of our school years, the two joined Zane and myself at our apartment, and we set off to try and get a record deal. This consisted of travelling, which we did. We packed things up and headed overseas to America and lived there. It wasn’t too hard to get there with the amount of money we had, and soon we were settled in an expensive penthouse. We continued playing gigs around the country, always getting great reviews and also started getting news articles and things in the newspapers. We’ve been in our band for 4 years now, and have recently been given a spot in the ‘Nineteen Stars tour’ where we could win a chance to be signed with the world’s best record company. Zane and I are still best friends after all those years, and we definitely still have a strong relationship like we had back then, well, a hell of a lot stronger now. And… I still have my feelings, and fuck, I dunno what he feels, I mean, we sometimes act like we’re together and stuff… but neither of us has really said anything out loud. But, I’m a little afraid of the things I’ve heard going around about the lead singers being killed… and I’m frightened, even if Zane always reassures me nothing is wrong.
So, with the whole deal between Zane and I, we have our moments where we do things that make people think we’re together, but I mean… we’re not, that I know of. Which is the reason I’m trying to forget my feelings for him… even though I don’t want to. If I ever find out he feels the same way, I’ll probably be the happiest I’ve been all my life. But yeah, for now, I’ll just keep up trying to get someone else… I think. Ugh, lets see how things go, shall we?
Oh yeah, and the reason why I prefer to be known as Storm is because of what happened to my parents. I always introduce myself to people as Storm, and keep my original name unknown.[/size][/color]
Who are you exactly,
[/size][/font][/center]And so who are you really? ashLAY!
So your how old again? turning sixteen sooon =]
You've been roleplaying for how long? 3-4 years
How many other characters do you have? will make more ;]
What would you like your member title to be? member title desired
Oh! whats the secret password love? you can’t get there from here
Hm... anything else I should know? RAWR <3
Oh what a great thing it was to be a demon. Not that many people would know what it felt like, but fuck, it was absolutely amazing. The power you possessed, the chaos you could cause and no one would ever know about it. You could threaten people to keep them quiet; you can also murder people in the most gruesome ways possible. Ahhh, the joys of being the most powerful being walking the earth… well, nowadays he was the most powerful. He could almost be as powerful as Mr. Satan himself. Hah, this was one kid you certainly didn’t want to mess with. And that’s just what this kid had done.
Patch stalked down the empty, dark hallways, a murderous grin across his features as he watched the girl run down the hallways in front of him, screaming for help. As if that would help, she wasn’t going back to where she wanted to go any time soon. His eyes reflected that of the night around him, his face dark and demonic. His looks were the type that could kill people. Hence another reason being a demon was so god damn fun. And, the guy he’d taken over was absolutely sexy as fuck, so he was deciding on keeping this body, not letting it age. Patch turned the corner sharply, keeping his footsteps light but his pace fast. He kept his senses sharp, hearing the screech of the door which lead to the basement go and the sound of her feet slapping against the ground. Mmm, what a stupid little girl.
Patch blinked his eyes and completely disappeared, appearing once again in the basement halls. Another thing that came in handy; teleportation. Fuckyeahbrah. Patch straightened his posture and licked his tongue over his lips, ”Daniela… you know you can’t run,” Patch’s voice was dark and almost non-human. It was like there were two voices in one, one a bit higher in tone than the other. He heard the girl squeal, a low chuckle leaving his pierced lips as he walked slowly down the hallway. When Patch reached the locker room, he moved stealthily inside without letting the door slam behind him. ”Here Daniela, Daniela. You can’t hide either,” he hissed, extending his words longer than they should be so it would make her squirm. And squirm it did.
A loud thwack sounded as a chair collided with Patch’s head, sending him stumbling forward into a locker. Daniela dropped the chair, her breathing harsh and rough as she sprinted out of the exit which headed to the pool. Patch groaned, hopping off unsteadily from the ground as he touched his head, ”You little shit…” Patch yelled when he noticed the crimson residue on his fingertips. No one ever made him bleed his own blood. Patch jogged out of the room and out to where she had been, glancing around before spotting her trying to climb up one of the cupboards to the window. With a growl, Patch ran over her with insane speed, gripping the back of her shirt and ripping her down to slam her against the ground. She screamed in pain, but he only crouched over her, gripping her throat tightly between his fingers. ”You’ve really, really pissed me off.” Patch spat, watching as the girls eyes welled with tears. With one last squeeze to her throat, his nail grew sharp and he drew it across her neck deeply, watching as the blood spewed out from her new wound.
Patch stepped back, his nail becoming normal again as he watched her eyes roll back into her head and her breathing stop. A triumphant smile appeared over the boys face as he glanced around for a moment, ”Goodnight Daniela… you won’t be needed anymore,” his voice had returned to normal now, as well as his eyes. With those last words and a quick shove with his foot, he pushed the bleeding dead girl into the swimming pool, watching the red swirls appear and spread around her. Job well done, Patch. Another stupid girl out of your hands. Patch wiped his hands on his pants and turned to head back towards the locker rooms, only to stop mid-step when he heard a door open somewhere around this area. Being so close, he wouldn’t have time to actually teleport. With a silent curse to himself, Patch ran over to where the large supply shed was, hiding behind it and pressing himself against the wall. If they found him… he’d be able to make up a sob story, OR, he could just kill them too if they didn’t believe him. But, if they didn’t see him, he’d be able to sneak out, but if he was seen whilst sneaking out, he could just pretend he had just gotten here and seen the girl in the pool… or not mention her at all. Eh, he’d figure something out. He was a demon for gods sake, he could do whatever he wanted.
Patch stalked down the empty, dark hallways, a murderous grin across his features as he watched the girl run down the hallways in front of him, screaming for help. As if that would help, she wasn’t going back to where she wanted to go any time soon. His eyes reflected that of the night around him, his face dark and demonic. His looks were the type that could kill people. Hence another reason being a demon was so god damn fun. And, the guy he’d taken over was absolutely sexy as fuck, so he was deciding on keeping this body, not letting it age. Patch turned the corner sharply, keeping his footsteps light but his pace fast. He kept his senses sharp, hearing the screech of the door which lead to the basement go and the sound of her feet slapping against the ground. Mmm, what a stupid little girl.
Patch blinked his eyes and completely disappeared, appearing once again in the basement halls. Another thing that came in handy; teleportation. Fuckyeahbrah. Patch straightened his posture and licked his tongue over his lips, ”Daniela… you know you can’t run,” Patch’s voice was dark and almost non-human. It was like there were two voices in one, one a bit higher in tone than the other. He heard the girl squeal, a low chuckle leaving his pierced lips as he walked slowly down the hallway. When Patch reached the locker room, he moved stealthily inside without letting the door slam behind him. ”Here Daniela, Daniela. You can’t hide either,” he hissed, extending his words longer than they should be so it would make her squirm. And squirm it did.
A loud thwack sounded as a chair collided with Patch’s head, sending him stumbling forward into a locker. Daniela dropped the chair, her breathing harsh and rough as she sprinted out of the exit which headed to the pool. Patch groaned, hopping off unsteadily from the ground as he touched his head, ”You little shit…” Patch yelled when he noticed the crimson residue on his fingertips. No one ever made him bleed his own blood. Patch jogged out of the room and out to where she had been, glancing around before spotting her trying to climb up one of the cupboards to the window. With a growl, Patch ran over her with insane speed, gripping the back of her shirt and ripping her down to slam her against the ground. She screamed in pain, but he only crouched over her, gripping her throat tightly between his fingers. ”You’ve really, really pissed me off.” Patch spat, watching as the girls eyes welled with tears. With one last squeeze to her throat, his nail grew sharp and he drew it across her neck deeply, watching as the blood spewed out from her new wound.
Patch stepped back, his nail becoming normal again as he watched her eyes roll back into her head and her breathing stop. A triumphant smile appeared over the boys face as he glanced around for a moment, ”Goodnight Daniela… you won’t be needed anymore,” his voice had returned to normal now, as well as his eyes. With those last words and a quick shove with his foot, he pushed the bleeding dead girl into the swimming pool, watching the red swirls appear and spread around her. Job well done, Patch. Another stupid girl out of your hands. Patch wiped his hands on his pants and turned to head back towards the locker rooms, only to stop mid-step when he heard a door open somewhere around this area. Being so close, he wouldn’t have time to actually teleport. With a silent curse to himself, Patch ran over to where the large supply shed was, hiding behind it and pressing himself against the wall. If they found him… he’d be able to make up a sob story, OR, he could just kill them too if they didn’t believe him. But, if they didn’t see him, he’d be able to sneak out, but if he was seen whilst sneaking out, he could just pretend he had just gotten here and seen the girl in the pool… or not mention her at all. Eh, he’d figure something out. He was a demon for gods sake, he could do whatever he wanted.
Oh The Credits!
