Post by Matthew Beckett on Jun 17, 2009 20:33:43 GMT -5
Matthew William Beckett
[/size]it all goes in one ear and right out the other.
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NICK NAMES[/color] Mattysaur, Matt, Becks, Beckett, Rawr!
AGE[/color] seventeen
GENDER[/color] male
SEXUALITY[/color] Odd. [questioning]
CLIQUE[/color] punk
CANON[/color]
PLAY-BY[/color] william beckett
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OKAY, WHY DON'T YOU TELL US A LITTLE ABOUT YOUR FABULOUS SELF?
[/color][/center]INTERESTING. AND WHAT ABOUT YOUR FAMILY LIFE?
[/color][/center]YOUR NAME[/color] Dan or Gaspy if there is another dan.
EXPERIENCE[/color] 6 or 7 years.
CONTACT[/color] pm or email.
CODE FROM THE RULES[/color] i read the rules! thanks very much, sweetheart,
it's not hard to please me.
ROLEPLAY EXAMPLE[/color] From here here
"Chris had never been picky about his food. He had always liked his greens, even if they tasted all sorts of funny, and never complained when he had to eat something most kids dreaded like liver or kidney beans. He just liked trying new things. It was one of those odd qualities about him that usually distanced him from the other kids he met. It wasn't only the odd food choices though, the super strength and the heat vision usually helped a bit. Chris bit his lip as he thought about all the times he had been turned down for play dates and birthday parties. Why was it that whenever he mentioned his name someone wanted to be his friend, but when he mentioned his powers they got all freaked out? What kind of message was that? I like you bu your freaky deaky super powers scare the hell out of me so were not friends anymore? Freaking normal people. Freaking superpowers. Freaking Mac and Cheese!
If there was one thing he would never be able to get used to it was the damn food here in the prison. Now as previously mentioned, Chris liked his food. While he wasn't exactly related to the Kent's he had accuquired their healthy farm appitite. Food was never wasted in the Kent household, and to do so was basically a sin. Chris had never thought he would encounter a food he didn't like. It was almost unthinkable to the young boy. Food was the energy source, and to waste it was like not giving your car gas because you didn't feel like it; it just didn't make sense. That was before he had encountered the prison food. It was shapeless, tasteless, and rather lumpy in places it shouldn't be. Chris never really got what it was supposed to be but knew it wasn't what the guards were billing it as. He had a sneaking suspicion it was just the same old mush reheated and dyed a different colour.
Drumming his fingers on the thin metal rail that seperated the 'classes' down in the prison, Chris wondered what slop they would be serving today. Would it be cream o slop? Steak slop? Or his personal favourite, Mac and Cheese lumps. Now Chris loved his mac and cheese, but whatever this place was serving did not count as mac and cheese. It was freaking grey for god's sake! Mac and cheese was supposed to be yellow and warm, with melty chunks of butter in it....mmm....
Chris could feel himself drooling and quickly banished the thoughts of melting butter out of his brain. That wouldn't help much here. While they didn't go hungry here in the prison, the food definately left something to be desired...like taste and smell...and shape. Chris continued to drum his fingers on the bar, much to the annoyance of the others around him. He couldn't help it! Standing still had never been one of his best acts, though he could accomplish it when he needed to.
Drum. Drum. Drum. The line seemed to be moving extra slow today. What could be the hold up? Maybe the clown was at it again...or his wifey..thing. Chris didn't really know what to call Harley...he only knew her as the clown's little girlfriend. He supposed they were together...maybe. It was hard to tell with two people as crazy as those two. Humming to himself he continued his drumming on the rail as the line moved up. A larger man growled at him to stop but Chris just ignored it. If the man tried to start something he would be ready. While he didn't like fighting people physically, he did have the upper hand there, he would settle for a good fight when all other options were exhausted. Drum.Drum.Drum. His drumming had increased as his belly began to growl. What the hell was going on up there? Standing on his tiptoes, and cursing puberty for not giving him the height he needed just yet, he peeked over the heads of hundreds of other inmates all lined up for chow. He couldn't see anything from where he was standing but heard the traces of a scuffle. He sighed gently as the sound of squeaking shoes and curses came his way. Who was stupid enough to fight now? Didn't they realize there were better times for this?
The scuffling sound faded away pretty quickly and Chris was dissapointed he hadn't been able to see the one involved. He hoped it was someone good enough to cut into chow time. You could never mess with a Kent and his food. Drum. Drum. Drum. The line was going faster now and Chris could see the food at last. Mac and cheese slop seemed to be the order of the day. A large hole in the line was the only evidence of the fight and it was being cleaned up by janitors. Apparently someone had spilled hot fat on the floor. Chris wondered breifly if it was the ink blot guy...what was his name again? Oh well, who cared there was food in front of him. Or at least that's what he told himself. He didn't want to know what it was really made out of. Grabbing a tray he watched the guards heap piles of food slop onto his tray and waited to be handed his single spoon and knife, both made from the same bendy white plastic. Smiling to himself he sat down at a table that looked relatively harmless and got ready to dig in. That's when he saw his mac and cheese wriggling.
"Why is it moving?" he asked himself poking at the food warily. "
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CARLEE BARLEY !? OF CAUTION 2.0 MADE THIS AND I SHOULDN'T STEAL IT OR TAKE THIS CREDIT OFF BECAUSE IF I DO, SHE'LL EAT ME WITH ONE OF THOSE MELON SCOOPERS!
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