LANDON, JAXTON AVERY

[JAXTON AVERY LANDON]

JAXTON LANDON

full name jaxton avery landon
nicknames jax
type original
gender male
age seventeen
birthday november twelfth
group rejects
clique stoner
grade junior
sexuality straight
occupation none
face claim blake harnage
alias sarah

persona
unpredictable, passionate, mysterious, silly, complex, nostalgic, loud, outspoken, obsessive, artistic, opinionated, addict, energetic, romantic, adventurous, aggressive, bold, impulsive

life

Jax comes from a middle-class family. He isn't particularly close with his parents or his siblings (a younger sister and an older brother). His older brother was a popular during his time at the school, and he fully expected Jax to follow in his footsteps. Jax would roll his eyes whenever his brother brought the matter up; he knew where his place was, and it wasn't going to change. Upon starting high school, he was inevitably placed among the rejects. Jax was too artistic to invest time into being superficial. He didn't care about popularity; all he cared about was his music, his drawings, his cigarettes, and his guitar. During the summer after his freshman year, the boy became swept up into the world of drugs. Smoking weed is by far his favorite activity, and it is not unusual for him to show up to school high. The death of his girlfriend during his sophomore year only increased his reliance on the drug. Her name was Lily, and he blamed himself entirely for her death, and still does to this day. To Jax, marijuana is the perfect way to escape his problems. When he is high, he doesn't have to think about his dead girlfriend or his distant family. Jax honestly believes that being high is so much easier than actually having to think.

Jax isn't high all of the time. When he isn't, he spends his time smoking cigarettes and socializing with other stoners. He is passionate about playing guitar and writing. He hasn't had a girlfriend since his last one died from a drug overdose a year ago.

roleplaying sample
(this is kinda long but i took a break from roleplaying for awhile, so most sites i used to belong to are gone by now. i managed to find this)

Auburn was not ready for this kind of a life, and he was sure that he never would be.

The cold night air stung against the ivory skin of his weak and thin arms, but the way that his entire body was trembling with anxiety almost completely masked the freezing air to his senses. Long fingers with too short nails scratched at his upper arms in a sort of painful attempt to keep himself warm, even though it was doing nothing of the sort. His teeth were chattering, and the sound only contributed to the pounding headache that he had had for the past several hours, ever since he had laid down in an attempt to go to sleep early. Shows how much that had accomplished - he hadn't had a minute's sleep tonight yet, and the stars were out. He stumbled through patches of brown grass that badly needed to be cut, whimpers arising from his throat, which was becoming tighter with each passing second. He knew exactly where he was going, even though he had never taken the time to actually memorize the directions to his destination. He never paid attention to where he stepped, but his feet never failed to bring him to where he needed to be. Away from people. Away from anything. That was all that he ever needed. He wished it could be like that always, but he knew that wish was far-fetched.

Right now he felt horrible, but that wasn't actually the right way to describe it - no, it was more like he felt like death. Absolute death. Like he would choke on his own tongue and die. It wasn't even a completely new feeling, as odd and depressing as that may be. In fact, he should have probably been used to this by now. This feeling had been growing in his chest for years now, only worsening with each passing day. There had been a time, though, when he thought that maybe the feeling was going to go away, at least a little. He felt it every time he had been kissed or held or even just smiled at by the boy that he absolutely refused to think about these days - he had noticed how the hurt was less and less with each minute he had been with that boy. It had all been very silly and disappointing in the end, however. That was years back into his past, and he knew that it was unrealistic to ever hope that things might be that good again. It was very obvious that it was only going to be even more downhill from here.

"Here" would be referring to the school. Bradenton University. Now, it was a nice school. Auburn knew that it was, because he had chosen it. It was his ideal school in every way - the courses were interesting and covered things that he was passionate about, the teachers were extremely creative and intelligent, and its appearance inside and out was very pleasing. However, there was one thing about the school that made Auburn want to pack up all of his things and leave every day - the people. There were over eight hundred students. And maybe that wasn't really a lot for a college, but it was way too much for Auburn to ever handle. He was even too afraid to take the door handle in his hands and pull it open each morning. He felt terribly inadequate to each and every other person who walked into that building. His photographs were not nearly as good as the others - he was jealous of the musicians, he was envious of the writing done by the journalists, and every time he was in the hallways he could feel eyes and hatred zoning in on him all at once. His paranoia was worse here than it ever had been anywhere else - this probably had much to do with how he had gotten so used to being cyberschooled. But once his psychologist had set her eyes on the photos that Auburn took, it had been her goal to send him to a college like this. She had been excited, and she had constantly reminded him that this was the perfect opportunity to break out of his shell and show how much of a smart and creative individual he was.

Auburn spoke to her regularly over the phone, of course. She believed he was getting better and he agreed, even though usually it was a lie. It had been true at one point, but that was before he had arrived here. In reality, all this college business was doing was giving him more panic attacks and causing him to lose more sleep than ever.

His thoughts were moving far too fast in his brain, but he knew that he had reached his destination. He could tell by the smell in the air, the sudden quiet that surrounded him, and the familiar terrain beneath his tired feet. He stopped, suddenly aware of the fact that he had been running on his way here. His head felt way too heavy and so he collapsed onto the ground on purpose, hitting his head a little too hard on the dirt beneath him. The shaking was becoming more and more unbearable and his breath was very rigid, and so he began to repeat in his mind what an old therapist had taught him to think during moments like this: "I am frightened of being frightened, therefore if I stop worrying about being frightened, then I have nothing to be scared of."

The Sunshine Skyway was not supposed to be a safe place at night, or so Auburn had heard a few students say, but Auburn paid a visit to the remnants of the old bridge nearly three or four times a week. He would walk here from school, although it was not particularly close. He did not care. Distance was not something he noticed. Usually he was not in the middle of having what might be a panic attack (he wasn't really sure what it was, he just knew he was scared and felt like he was dying), but either way it was a great place to go to just escape everything and everyone. Sometimes he would fall asleep here, since it was the only place he could calm down long enough to drift away into unconsciousness, but if he woke up here in the dark he just became even more frightened.

As his heart beat continued to race, he stared at the night sky above him and the remnants, sweating and sweating some more as his mind soared. His thoughts during these times where usually unimportant things, such as his childhood or memories of his mother or maybe his cat. This time, the thoughts were much different and a lot more painful. Caiden. Auburn hadn't thought the name in months. He had been told to forget it all, and he agreed - it was what would be best for him. But now everything that he had somehow managed to block out came flowing back to him in a matter of seconds; flowers, playgrounds, swings, I love yous, kisses, smiles, laughter, cuddling, falling asleep on the couch together, the bracelet Auburn made for him, the necklace Caiden made for him, the text messages, the phone calls, the holding hands, the bliss.

Before Auburn even knew what was going on exactly, he had turned over onto his side, clutching his cell phone to his ear as tears streamed down his pinkish cheeks. He hadn't called Caiden's phone in years. He had no idea why he still had the number, and he had no idea why he was calling. It was probably the worst thing that he could do right now, especially since it was probably 2 or 3 in the morning, but nevertheless he did not hang up.

other characters
none!