O'REILY, jacob darien

[jersey]

JACOB O'REILY

full name jacob darien o'reily
nicknames jake, o'reily
type original
gender male
age eighteen
birthday june sixteenth
group college student
clique n/a
grade n/a
sexuality heterosexual
occupation lifeguard
face claim hunter parrish
alias jersey

persona
athletic, goofy, lazy, conscientious, obnoxious, ambitious, witty, procrastinator, always hungry, independent, easily amused, cheerful, serial dater, sincere, superstitious, impulsive, somewhat vulgar, touchy-feely, flexible, stubborn, charming.

life
Jake’s life has been relatively easy-going. He never had to work too hard as a child because his parents provided everything he and his brother ever needed. Living in Manchester all their lives, moving in and out of houses in the same neighborhood, the O’Reily boys made life-long friends. Jacob loved spending time with his friends. His role in any friendship was ideally to make people laugh, and that rings true in his friendship with Evelyn especially. Jake has always been one step ahead of the game, too. Although he procrastinated more than he should have, the boy managed to pass most of his classes with A’s and B’s. He maintained his GPA for football if anything. He’s always loved playing it, and he continues to do so on a college-based level. Rather than staying home or fighting dormitory arrangements, Jacob was able to rally enough money to purchase his own apartment. It’s a great place for him to live, and Eve shares it with him. That makes the living-away-from-his-parents deal all the more rewarding. He’s attracted to Eve, y’see. He’ll date other girls, but she’s been his longest withstanding crush since junior year. The only one who knows diddly squat about his affections is his brother, and he’s been sworn into secrecy. All in all, the O’Reily brothers are close. Jake watches out for his baby brother, who is a senior next year. As long as he’s happy, Jake is happy. The eighteen year old doesn’t flare because of every little thing. He doesn’t sweat the small stuff. All he does is put on a brave face, march on, and try to survive.

roleplaying sample
She was staring at him. He peered at her without wavering. This kind of stuff, eye to eye confrontation, was no big deal for him. Anthony was used to ordering people around, arguing against disputes, and proving his clients better than the other candidates. A girl at a bar wasn't going to phase him, though he'd be amused to see her try. "Oh, so you're the brother..." she began to say. That's all Tony needed to hear before he rolled his eyes. Tristan was his only sibling. Twin sibling. He had the crazy idea that he was some sort of psychopathic asshole or something. It wasn't true, obviously. Could a psychopathic asshole be as successful as he was? Could a psychopathic asshole possibly manage three attractive woman? Hell no. If he was any of that description, he would have already been kicked to the curb. The girls would have probably disappeared, and his face would star on ghetto-looking wanted posters. Considering each scenario was definitely false, Tony could safely assume he was not crazy.

"He's always been fond of me," Anthony told her sarcastically. Although, by the way he always talked about him, it could be plausible. Then again, he knew that Tristan's monologues about how terrible his older brother was could go on for days. This was what he learned in a matter of days. This is what he learned from Tristan's so-called friends. Honestly, Anthony didn't know what Tristan's problem was. Everything happened so long ago. He had no interest in reigniting those flames, so why was his brother so adamant about pissing Anthony off? It made little sense to him, and every time he tried to shed light on the subject, Tristan jumped down his throat. He was just about done with all of it. If it hadn't been for Tristan's desperate request that he meet Jamie, Tony could probably slip through his visit in Los Angeles unscathed. He supposed he could skip out on the event, though doing so would only encourage his words. It'd give people proof to latch onto...

Goddamnit, Tristan! Anthony cursed, shaking his head. Mikaela was speaking now. She might have been speaking for awhile. "I think I've heard of your name," he said, tipping his cup back. The alcohol burned his throat once more. He couldn't think of a way how he'd know her. Did she work a movie he directed? Was she a friend of a client? Tony shook the thought away. "I can't pinpoint where from." He shrugged. He wasn't going to leave sleep over the girl. When she asked what crowd she should keep instead, he shrugged. "It's your life," he said diplomatically. "The wheel is in your hands or some shit." He chuckled, waving over Chad. "A beer," he said. Chad nodded and went on his way to serve it. "I just don't understand why someone confident like you would stick around my brother." Opposites attract? Something like that. It had to be. He cracked a smile when she said she was surprised that he was friendly. "Would you rather me be an asshole like Tristan whines?" he asked, smirking a bit.