Post by nofx on Jun 28, 2009 20:42:12 GMT -5
•ANTHONY COLE KINGSLEY,
He's slammed nineteen shot glasses down
and whispered silently, kiss me slowly to my death.
there's no release at all that's not
worth dying for. and it's not for our
desires but our design that we all fall apart
__________________
-- october thirteenth
-- nineteen years old
-- one-hundred eighty-two pounds
-- six feet
-- blue eyes
-- blond hair
-- thin, two inch long scar on neck,
second-degree burn on right shoulder
-- right forearm, left arm,
"mayhem" ambigram, right forearm (ex of location) [gang]
"c'est la vie" across shoulders (ex of style),
"ruthless" across knuckles (ex of style) [gang]
• SUSPECT,
sometimes rough, temperamental, argumentative, paranoid, racist... always outspoken, sensual, secretive, affectionate, compassionate, caring, protective, good-humored, sarcastic
• PATTERN,
family, protection, concealing his secrets, smoking inordinate amounts of cigarettes, drinking at social affairs, having a good time, hanging out, big dogs, big cats, power, the city, coffee, energy drinks, tattoos, basketball (street and professional), pretty women, sex
• MOTIVE,
violence, warfare, separation from his family, witsec, latinos, gang involvement, being enclosed in small spaces, small dogs, disappointment, ignorance, being hungry, being high, socialites, tweenies
• FREEDOM,
emotional and physical strength, loyal, is able to conceal the not-so-glamorous about himself, good with women
• HANDCUFFED,
family jeopardy, violence, smoking, pretty women, living peacefully with the memory of his past
• JAIL TIME,
basketball, smoking, hanging out with friends and his sister, reading
• INVESTIGATION,
anthony cole kingley and his fraternal twin sister, olivia cherisse, are as close as siblings come— and have been ever since the beginning of their lives. even when they were young, one child would seemingly know what the other was thinking before they said it. needless to say, during their childhood, very little communication was actually necessary. whenever they could, the two spent time together. for, is it not always said that a twin is also a best friend? the kingsleys are poster-children for that theory.
albeit, the twins were rather adventurous; and, as they aged into their early teenage years, they began to meddle in devious behaviors. anthony's choice friends were less than admirable, and with the arrival of their father's sudden death, the boy became immersed in the dangerous lifestyle of an actual street gang, known as 'east coast massive'. he was almost sixteen years old when he began tattooing his body, smoking cigarettes, and fighting on the streets. needless to say, it wasn't a very glamorous life, but it was the life that he knew. despite his dangerous lifestyle, anthony never lost track of his sister— and even when he was on the streets, olivia was always in the back of his mind.
at age seventeen, anthony found himself in the most grave situation of his young life. faced with the honorable decision to save his friend's ass, anthony was thrown into the harsh reality of a street fight with the notoriously violent, latino gang known as 'the untouchables'. the violence that ensued was brutal and lethal— ending with a final gunshot, a body falling to the pavement, and the arrival of sirens. with his buddy dead, anthony and olivia— who had also been present for the fight— were taken to jail, tried, and eventually relocated to new york for their own safety by the united states witness protection program.
before the teenager was sent to new york city to begin his new life, he was informed by his steady girlfriend of the time that she was carrying his child. this news both shocked, scared, and excited anthony— yet, before he was able to be a father, he was flown to new york city, and forbidden to contact the mother of his child. the consequences were much too great for him too break the rules of witsec.
since he left miami, anthony has been burdened with guilt and wonder about his child. along with paranoia and anxiety due to the untouchables. he was sure that his name was still on their list of those to kill, and his trust in witsec was always faltering.
• PUBLICITY,
anthony was relocated by witsec at age seventeen for witnessing his friend's murder due to gang violence. he lives in silent fear— paranoid and anxious— about the violence he was associated with before being moved. nobody in his new life knows that he and his sister were in a gang— he even lies about the origin of his tattoos. before being relocated, his girlfriend told him that she was carrying his child. he has never met his child, and it kills him. he is currently in a very close relationship with grace brielle halleck, although she knows nothing of his past.
the sunlight appeared to be infectious. large smiles radiated off of the countless faces of those whom trent photographed, and their laughter was frozen in time each time the shutter of his camera closed. the familiar clicking of his camera was pleasant to the boy's ears, and could be heard above the clambering sound of tourists near his side. that clicking, the rapid and repetitive sound caused by the snapping closed of his camera's shutter, was one of his favorite things in life. as strange as it may sound, trent was easily calmed down when taking photographs. this evening was no exception.
yes, the sunlight may have been spreading happiness across the boardwalk, but trent was perched on the edge of a shadow-strewn bench. today had been a rough one for him— for, it was his mother's birthday. being so goddamn secluded from the life he missed was tremendously challenging for trent. countless times throughout the course of the day, trent had been forced to talk himself down from calling calling his mom and wishing her a happy birthday. even calling just long enough to hear her voice would have been enough. albeit, trent knew better. witsec would be after his ass before he could even close the call, and he couldn't risk his own well-being, as well as his parent's, just out of his own selfish desires.
the end of the day was nearing, and as trent lowered the viewfinder of his camera away from his eye, he glanced towards the sky. he observed the place of the sun, and the color of the light around him. with his trained eye, trent was able to determine that there would only be thirty minutes, if that, of shootable light left. although, the orange glow cast by the sun currently was every photographer's dream light. trent snapped a few more candid photos from the bench, focusing his attention on a group of emotive teenagers near the rail, before heaving himself up and heading out towards sea.
surprisingly, the farther out trent wandered onto the board walk, the less people he encountered. albeit, he was still able to capture a few more photographs. the boy paused, leaning back against the steel bar which held the pier's railing. his camera, life most prized possession, hung limp from the strap around his neck. his hands were instead burrowing into the depths of his back pocket. trent withdrew a pack of cigarettes, claiming one for himself, and lighting it was haste. he perched the cigarette between his lips as he fumbled to replace the pack and lighter back in his pocket. finally taking a deep drag off of the end, trent emitted a satisfied sigh, his eyelids fluttering closed momentarily as smoke drained through his nostrils.
opening his eyes, trent gazed around at the scene: despite being away from the mouth of the boardwalk, there were still many people wandering. some were holding hands, others were taking photos, and some just appeared to be hanging out. there was a definite, distinct difference between locals and tourists. he raised the cigarette back to his lips, tearing his eyes away from a kissing couple across the way, feeling invasive yet jealous. "shit," he murmured, tapping the ash against the steel railing, out over the water. trent bowed his head momentarily, feeling the warmth of the evening sun against his hair, and wondering what the hell his life was even about anymore. there had to be more in store for him than just taking photographs of strangers. he wanted to do more than observe the lives of others.
yes, the sunlight may have been spreading happiness across the boardwalk, but trent was perched on the edge of a shadow-strewn bench. today had been a rough one for him— for, it was his mother's birthday. being so goddamn secluded from the life he missed was tremendously challenging for trent. countless times throughout the course of the day, trent had been forced to talk himself down from calling calling his mom and wishing her a happy birthday. even calling just long enough to hear her voice would have been enough. albeit, trent knew better. witsec would be after his ass before he could even close the call, and he couldn't risk his own well-being, as well as his parent's, just out of his own selfish desires.
the end of the day was nearing, and as trent lowered the viewfinder of his camera away from his eye, he glanced towards the sky. he observed the place of the sun, and the color of the light around him. with his trained eye, trent was able to determine that there would only be thirty minutes, if that, of shootable light left. although, the orange glow cast by the sun currently was every photographer's dream light. trent snapped a few more candid photos from the bench, focusing his attention on a group of emotive teenagers near the rail, before heaving himself up and heading out towards sea.
surprisingly, the farther out trent wandered onto the board walk, the less people he encountered. albeit, he was still able to capture a few more photographs. the boy paused, leaning back against the steel bar which held the pier's railing. his camera, life most prized possession, hung limp from the strap around his neck. his hands were instead burrowing into the depths of his back pocket. trent withdrew a pack of cigarettes, claiming one for himself, and lighting it was haste. he perched the cigarette between his lips as he fumbled to replace the pack and lighter back in his pocket. finally taking a deep drag off of the end, trent emitted a satisfied sigh, his eyelids fluttering closed momentarily as smoke drained through his nostrils.
opening his eyes, trent gazed around at the scene: despite being away from the mouth of the boardwalk, there were still many people wandering. some were holding hands, others were taking photos, and some just appeared to be hanging out. there was a definite, distinct difference between locals and tourists. he raised the cigarette back to his lips, tearing his eyes away from a kissing couple across the way, feeling invasive yet jealous. "shit," he murmured, tapping the ash against the steel railing, out over the water. trent bowed his head momentarily, feeling the warmth of the evening sun against his hair, and wondering what the hell his life was even about anymore. there had to be more in store for him than just taking photographs of strangers. he wanted to do more than observe the lives of others.
My name is niki and I have been role playing for five years or so. My other character(s) is/are nonexistent at the moment, but will surely be coming soon.. I consider myself a advanced/ generally badass role player and I found Intoxicated Lullabies on WTS.
