Post by milo on Jul 11, 2012 22:50:18 GMT -5
MILO DEAN KNOX
full name milo dean knox
nicknames milo.
type original
gender male.
age nineteen.
birthday september third.
group local
clique n/a
grade drop out.
sexuality bisexual.
occupation none.
face claim max kreiger.
alias kir
persona
Compassionate, loyal, trustworthy, funny, romantic, quirky, thoughtful, patient, active, perceptive, immature, avoidant, intuitive, sweet, closed off.
life
(The version of his app I like best but probably wouldn’t work here. here
Milo is and always has been a happy, funny, goofy guy. He’s a class clown, with a heart of gold because he’ll do anything he can to make you smile and will hunt you down and force you to smile if he hears you’re having a bad day. As a middle child, it’s just what his job has always been in his family, the peace maker, he figured out the value of a laugh young. He was popular only because he made sure everyone knew him, knew to come to him if they needed a laugh, knew his name from pranks he’d pulled, knew of him. But it never mattered much to him, he was too romantic for it to bother him, because the girl he’d loved since he was nine wasn’t popular.
She might have loved him too, if he’d ever grown the balls to ask her. She’d been driving, because it was her car and her baby and she’d be damned if someone else was going to drop her transmission but her. It was late in the night, what had been a small adventure had turned into a cluster fuck because none of them had looked up directions before taking off and they were all too stubborn to do it now. She’d looked down for one minute to look at her phone, his older brother had been asleep in the passenger seat and he’d had his head ducked looking for the bible of cd’s always tucked under her seat.
He woke up in the hospital with flashing memories of her the sound of screeching metal, and the thought of oh god everything hurt, but nothing solid. He’d been the sole survivor of an accident that’d flipped her car off the side of the road, she was gone, and this time his brother had been taken too.
After the accident, Milo stopped caring about the popularity he had at school, yeah everyone still stared at him and he didn’t blame them with the bruises that covered over half his body and the scratches everyone could so clearly see. Now he’s not so popular since he’s basically a mute, just trying to get the swing of life again after two important pieces were taken from him.
roleplaying sample
Lyria was strong, there had never been any questioning about that, she was built like a fortress. She had a look that could cut like a knife, and a sharp wit she held close to her heart like a knife. Her walls were built of iron, and cold hearted steel, that supported her like pillars. She'd forged herself from parts of the cities she'd always called home, always holding bits of them with her. She was made up entirely of little bits of places, she could no longer find. Her cold cutting stare and brash armor was a mimic of New York streets, her quick pace and small smirks were from Chicago bars and courtrooms. She'd wrapped herself up in those gimmicks of streets names, and flashing lights.
Now when she washed her hair, she didn't feel like she was washing stars twinkle from her hair, she didn't smell of exhaust and cigarette smoke, she smelled like somewhere she didn't know and she couldn't find traces of home in any of it. She'd built herself as a mimic and here she could feel it every day as it was slowly falling to pieces at her feet.
Her nails dug into her palms, pulling at the skin they dragged across, making her palms red and sore and hurt, but it did nothing to her. She found herself clinging to her insides, she was clinging to her walls of iron and steel that now she found had been blown to rubble. Just trying to hold onto who she'd been before any of this place had happened. She fought it all in silence, with glazed eyes, and covering lashes, her fingers flexing the only signs until he showed up. She allowed herself to be gathered into his lap, out of sheer need to be next to something warm, the feeling long gone in most of her limbs.
His words unleashed a bitter laugh from her throat, sharp and biting it sounded more like something inside of her tarring rather than a laugh at all. She pushed back against his chest, hating that he smelled like smoke and home, she bit down on her lip, before shoving her way out of his lap. Hating herself for falling in there in the first place, and hating Tony for being the only thing that still reminded her of home. Go Home. she bit the words at him, refusing to say his name. Her mind corrected her, it was Benjamin, not Tony, they weren't close anymore, they weren't lovers, they were nothing more than mirrors of each other’s past. “You don't have any right to tell me how to feel anymore, Benjamin and I don't remember asking for your opinion.” Her words were sharp, driven with the intent to hurt.
Her hands fluttered up, as numb as they were to fix her hair and make sure she looked perfect, she was steeling herself. He wasn't allowed to see inside anymore, he was going to get the same act as everyone else she told herself, lilting her voice an octave higher and painting her usual smile on her face, she quirked an eyebrow at him. “Now that's over with, why don't you run on home and give your advice and feelings to someone who cares for them. Benjamin.” She added the extra dig hoping it would hit home with just how much she wanted to estrange herself from him.
other characters
Vitani Sabell Black.
