Post by isaiamarkreynolds on Sept 28, 2008 15:36:51 GMT -5
Isaia Mark Reynolds !
they tell us that sin's not good
but we know it's great
[/font]they tell us that sin's not good
but we know it's great
there's a fire inside of you ,[/color][/font]
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[/SIZE][/font][/blockquote][/blockquote]ladies and gentlemen, it is my pleasure to be here. i'm isaia mark reynolds, and you know that's the coolest name you've heard in a long time. i won't go into detail as to why i was named that, but i will let you know that i don't go by my full name at all times. iz, izzy, reynolds, izmar are way cuter, and tons more fun to go by. of course, here in hollywood even those embarrassing pet names get out. speaking of hollywood, that's probably why my name sounds so familiar to you. see, my parents are johnny and leah reynolds, but that doesn't mean i don't do anything. i'm actually loving life here as a media whore. pretty rad, right? although, not as rad as my birthday, april 2nd. you know, that day you give me presents? that aside- i'm eighteen years old, and ready to rock this town.
and enough of that boring stuff. i know what you want- my rockin bod. and by rocking, i mean drop dead gorgeous. let's just start from the top. my hair? well, i don't even know how to describe these brunette locks. but i guess i'd say that they are pretty straight. and as you can see by plainly looking at me and my parents- i'm a total mutt. but what you may not know is that my eyes are a mind blowing color. yeah, that's right, they are cholcolate brown. that is just cool beyond belief. and now for those numbers i know you've all been waiting for. see, i'd consider myself thin, and most would agree. i mean, i can prove it too. my scale reads 154lbs, not that you should be asking. but i do tower over some things at a nice 5'6.5". sexy, aren't i? yeah, so i've been told. then again, i've also been told that i look a hell of a lot like alessandro de marco. but, that can't be a bad thing, right?
[/color][/font][/center]like shadows in the faded light ,
likes ,
♥; pajamas
♥; miami
[/ul]dislikes ,
[/ul]strengths ,
we could be a beautiful miracle ,
[/color][/font][/center][/size][/blockquote][/blockquote]parents ,siblings ,
children ,
significant others ,
history ,
light up when you smile ,
[/color][/font][/center]age , FIFTEEN
years of experience , two-ish
how you found us , my super spidey powers? :3
read the rules , yeah, you can't fake this one baby.
sample post , [/size]
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Some came and died the other day-
And oh what a wonderful day it was. It was rare to see the vampire- like Emmett emerge from his lair before the call for lunch as well as attend mourning classes. Similarly, it was rare for him to run into all the wrong people and say all the right words, and vice - versa. For some reason, as it was blatantly clear to all of those who know him, and several that don't, Emmett was in a horrible mood today. The reason; Emmett was having a nasty, homophobic, obnoxious, vile, improper, depressing, aggravating bad day. And no, it wasn't one of those bad days where the subject wakes up and it is raining out and they figure that if they act sad, people will pay more attention to them. While attention never hurts the matter, Emmett was having a genuine bad day.
The night before was a dead give-away. It was amazing, ecstatic, phenomenal! And the whole night, girls and drugs and all, was only a mere thirty dollars and hours of hysteria, excitement. And after a few tipsy calls, five dollars in bus fees and much bluecoat dodging, he found himself back to the place he slept with minimum injury. He toppled over onto his bed, ready for a long and deep slumber. Unfortunately, no person, animal, amphibian or fish can have such a wonderful night with a matching tomorrow. After sleeping for a few minutes, that was in reality a couple hours, large sounds came from the hall of his dorm. Emmett's deep sleep wasn't usually distracted by such things, but at that moment his mind screamed at him to wake up. And such he did. In an effort to blow it off, he switched positions in his minimal- comfort bed and closed his eyes, fully expecting to fall back into a long and peaceful slumber.
But, alas, nothing felt comfortable to the boy. While he felt too weary to climb out of his bed, he also felt that the thought of sleeping in his own perspiration and the fact that the oil crisis could be solved with whatever was accumulating in his hair was keeping him from sleeping. So he stumbled out of bed, with a few added moans and cuss words, and out the door to the showers. Once he walked in, he remembered that he had forgotten to bring shampoo's or even a towel. Thus, he had to walk all the way back to his room and grab these necessities and then back to the showers. Once he turned it on, the showers spat out burning hot water. Being under the flow at the time, Emmett had to do all that was in his power not to scream bloody murder. He yanked it back to cold, and the shower began to produce what Emmett was sure was snow. He tried to turn the handle back and forth, but he could seem to find a degree that wasn't too intense. So he settled on ice-cold and took the quickest shower of his life.
After that was over, he rushed out of the shower and to the sink. It was a natural habit of his, for he usually jumps out of the shower and directly to brushing his teeth. Remembering he didn't have his brush or paste, Emmett just looked in the mirror and combed through his hair with his fingers. He noticed, with slight distress, a pimple on his brow. It was rare that he got zits, because it was natural (well, as natural as Proactive gets. Which, according to the commercials, is pretty natural) that he didn't get zits. He wasn't going to bother with it today, he was just going to pinch it. Leaning over and doing so, it started to bleed. Emmett got annoyed and stormed out of the bathroom, leaving his shampoo's and wearing only a towel.
Back in his room, he told himself that he was just going to flop over and sleep. He did the first fine, but the cold shower made him more alert than he was naturally. There was no way he could just fall asleep now. It was then when he decided that he should just go to his mourning classes. School usually exhausts him, and by the time lunch was over, he was sure he could just go back to his room and sleep the rest of the natural day away. Sitting up again, he reached over for his glasses. Not normally worn by him except in moments like these (They happen much to frequently). He looked at the clock and read the numbers. Then he read them again. And again. Then he rubbed his eyes and read it again. Since when did such numbers as these exist in a pattern on a clock?
4:26
And now would be a perfect time for some fluent cussing. It was something that Emmett didn't do on a regular basis, but the time called for it. He turned on the lights and did his best not to start punching the walls. Afterwards, he ultimately got dressed and brushed his teeth. Of course, he couldn't find his shampoo's when he looked for them. It figures that the day some idiot decides to steal his stuff is this very day. He went back to his room and laid down, lacking anything else to do.
About fifteen minutes later, the easily board boy was rummaging through his backpack for his homework. Yes, his homework. Yes, the homework that comes from school. Yes, he was desperate. He started on his English, because that was something that he figured he knew. Sure enough, it was relatively easy. Then he converted to French and Social Studies, and then he gave up because science and math were the worst subjects of all. He packed them away and looked at the clock. Thirty past five, not bad. Emmett gave a very loud exhale and stood up. Ultimately, he was meant with a pounding headache as soon as he reached his natural height. He threw his hand to his head and clutched it, biting his lip. Pain meds, pain meds. That was all that he could think. But he didn't want to move. Moving would hurt, moving would make everything terrible. He, not too far from his bed, sat on it and turned off the light. 'This was wonderful', he thought 'it really is'.
Long and dull minutes he sat there, just thinking. He was thinking about that dream he had when he was a kid, the one where he was chased by a giant Cyclops that called himself a saint. He was thinking about how stress balls are suppose to eliminate stress, but only seems to give a little kid something to do when he-and-or-she has nothing else to do. He thought about where he would be in ten years and how he would prefer death. By the end of his not-so-deep thoughts, it was six. His ass hurt, and his stomached moaned for some toast. So he did the rest of the things he was suppose to do, and walked down to the cafeteria, his head still pounding.
And thus the single most annoying part of his day started. All through lunch and homeroom, friends and acquaintances and wannabe - party kids were asking every and all forms of 'What’s wrong?' Emmett was bi, he had long hair and wore makeup, he wore jewelry, too. But he was most defiantly not a chick. He didn't want to talk about his problems even if he wanted to talk to anybody at all. He was pretty sure, no, he was positive that his aura screamed 'fuck off'. But people still approached him and asked him the same question over and over again.
First period math sucked, second period gym was awful, and by third period French, Emmett was feeling suicidal. Halfway through he raised his hand and asked if he could go to the nurse in broken French. His teacher, most likely still amazed he had done homework, agreed and Emmett slipped out with his bag in hand.
And thus we are brought to the current time, Emmett slugging through the empty halls. He wasn't going to the nurse, that was just stupid. He walked into the bathroom and made sure that the stalls were empty. As he figured, they were. Kids didn't naturally come here, it was too close to the principals office. Emmett lifted himself up and sat on the counter where the sinks were placed. After staring at the doors for a certain amount of time, he reached into his bag and pulled out a bottle of water.
Well, at least one would assume that it was a bottle of water. It was labeled as such and the liquid was clear. But when Emmett opened it, the liquid fizzed up and bubbles started to emerge in it. When he took a swing, he smiled happily. This was the only good thing that happened that day. After a few small sips, each one savored, he turned to look in the mirror. "Hell." He said, then taking once more sip before continuing his statement. "If I have any more days like this I might have to start talking to the Emo-ducks." He laughed slightly, hiccupping halfway through. Then he thought over his actions, frowning slightly when he realized all of the things he could and should of done that skipped his mind that mourning. He was so busy thinking of how he could of read the newspaper instead of staring at a wall and how much better that would have been that somebody could walk in without him noticing. Not very good when what he was drink could, quite possibly, be against school conduct.-You should have seen the ratings that day.