Post by kelsey paxton on Jul 5, 2010 17:40:49 GMT -5
kelsey&&james&&paxton
{one && two && three}
••FRONT FACE••
(Auditions) Character
Name && Nicknames: Kelsey James Paxton, otherwise known as Kale.
Gender: There’s no denying it… yup, theyhadababyit’saboy. :D
Age: Twenty.
Trade:
Class: Lower Class, of course.
Face Claim: Chris Lowell
Canon/Original: Original.
••CASE FILES••
(Physical Attributes) With a grin likely to charm the Devil, Kale’s face is undoubtedly kind and welcoming. Starting from the bottom up, Kale’s lips are nothing thin enough to seem turtlish nor thick enough to rival the deepest pout. The most boyish feature of his face surprisingly is the slight chubbiness in his cheeks, seeming to go against the hard edge of his jaw line.
Kale is never to be said as perfect as a faint crook is visible in the bridge of his nose from meeting another man’s fist. His eyes are made obvious with faint hues of sky blue and silver, seeming to dance in a steely, mischievous light. Lighter strands of bronze mix with larger clumps of dark brown to make up the unkempt, seemingly casual disarray of hair upon his head, hardly ever tamed with comb.
The bits and pieces that make up the visage of the young Paxton man explained, we move on. From his straight shoulders to his lankily stretched out limbs, Kale’s body is rather normal. Never to be confused with a body type befitting a boy nor hulky laborer; his body fits more into the average build of six foot, one inch; not at all too tall for any occasion.
Like most men of that time, Kale is often found wearing trousers, waistcoat and ensemble. None of it is ever new or neat, though the colors are always dark and as clean as possible. Kale rarely, unless forced by weather or otherwise, is found actually wearing his coat and usually carries it at his side.
••TRIFLES••
likes;
-Letters. Rather he is on the giving or receiving end of such things; he still finds delight in them.
-Children. Definitely not in a gross way, although he prefers his younger sister to most. Kale would rather spend an afternoon listening to her droning on about little things than sitting an hour doing any kind of business.
-Hugs. Call it feminine if you must, but they’re a small form of comfort he can still endure without feeling childish. It doesn’t hurt though that he rarely gives or gets any of these special embraces.
-Sarcasm. A high point in most of his discussions and conversations, he finds a form of delight from it and has been accused of delighting too much in it.
-Sleeping. Sure, he sleeps as if a fourteen year old boy will as in practically half off of the mattress, but… it’s a comfort, an escape from his every day trials.
-Rebellion of small, trifling rules. Kale often is found doing things he shouldn’t. Being places he shouldn’t… and yet, he finds so much excitement in doing so. Why deny a happiness?
-Attention. Any form at all; he enjoys it more than he should.
dislikes;
- Physical arguments. He isn’t the best at fighting and often relies on his abilities in spinning tales and smooth talking his way out of things, though, he can at least ‘hold his own’ if it truly came down to it.
-Sitting still for longer than is necessary. Self explanatory, no?
-Dogs. Once you’ve been chased by one, you’re sure to dislike them quite a bit.
-War and Conflict. He finds no point in some of it and will never understand why so many men his age or older spend so much time bickering over different ends of a war.
-Talking of the weather. Rather boring, but it seems to be a topic of discussion wherever he goes.
habits;
-Pretending to be what he is not. Again, self explanatory.
-Pacing when angry or when his thoughts are in too much of a jumbled haze to get a hold of them.
-Speaking too much when anxious or nervous.
weaknesses;
-His sister. To be true, Kale would do anything for her and has already given up quite a bit more than he should have to keep her as happy as possible.
-Distant childhood memories circled around one fairly close friend in his seventh year of life.
-His mother. The woman instilled early on a fear into him that has never left. He does little for her; but would be nothing without her and the grip she has on him.
strengths;
-In the way of words, Kale can be said to be skilled with them and can usually talk his way out of most anything and can never be pinned as one with lack of wit.
-At times he can usually forget his needs when those before him need more than he does.
-In the face of adversity and worry, he can often keep a strong mind about it until after the fact.
secrets;
- Easily hurt and offended by words against him, he hides this well although not for as long as he wishes was possible.
-
(Personality)
There are only three things that the young Mr. Paxton holds dear these days. Lottie, himself… and money. Always with his own interest at heart even when genuinely caring for another, Kale is a hard person to understand and even harder to trust, though it can be said that he himself has never found it easy to trust those who do not share last names. From a young age it was obvious to those around the little boy that Kale was a leader and hardly ever followed. He made his own choices and still does.
He does as he pleases, even if on a whim. A charmer in most that he does, words are something that come easy for the young man and typically, when physical arguments are imminent; words are the only thing he relies on the diffuse the situation. Of course it’s not to say that he at all cannot fight, no, on the contrary, it is to be said that he fights more often with his mind than he does with fists. That being a true belief he holds dear and forever reminds himself every day.
Always a joker and always out for himself, Kale can surely turn an awkward situation into something calming, something that would be a pleasant memory for weeks to come. Though further still, while being this type of person, Kale has never been the type to hold much at all close to himself any farther than his younger sister and father. Some would call it a “mom complex”, but when she turns into the type of person who micro-managed every choice of your life and every second in a day spent awake, it was to be said that he feared the woman, at least since being nine years old.
These things aside, Kale is a gentle and kind person if he wishes to be, though those moments are growing rarer and rarer by the day, little blips on a radar never to be seen again as they move by and vanish. Though all of this may seem confusing, the person hiding within these layers that make up this Kelsey Paxton is quiet, calm, subdued, more caring than his outward appearance lets on. He would rather smile and lie than allow anyone to see him hurting.
Often, on days of lesser value, meaning hardly much to eat, Kale would skip what he could and move the rest over to his younger sister who would protest, with his only reply being she was a growing girl and needed it more than he did. Satisfied with the answer, the little girl hardly asked much at all anymore.Still, all in all, Kale is complex working of thoughts, desires, needs and even all three, held together by the glue of his outer character that hides these day by day.
••EVIDENCE••
(History) The Paxton’s were a small family of three; John Paxton and his wife Amelia; along with young Kelsey. Never spoiled yet hardly lacking provisions he needed, Kale grew up a happy child in the countryside. Hardly having a care in the world; he remembered being told they were to move into the city. It was a long and boring ordeal for the then four year old Kale, and he simply didn’t understand why he must be separated from the warm; his friends; the only life he knew.
He adapted as best as he possibly could to life in the city, although there was a marked difference in the size of home they moved into, it was smaller. Not to mention they started having to do their own work as his father went about his business. It was a tough life for a little boy to be sure; spending days trailing after his mother, helping her do all the little things that others forgot to do that needed to be done to keep order in the house.
It was tiresome, little chance Kale had then to go off and explore, to play, to be a normal child. Early to bed, early to rise, as it were. Doing so instilled in the young boy a hard, earnest work ethic he still holds today, though his way of earning funds now has lost most of its honesty.
Still, in the summer of his sixth year; something happened that he would hardly ever forget. While playing with a nine year old friend of his he was often found trailing behind, Kale remembered the look on the little girls’ face. Fierce and restless, yet unsure and wary. Though he never deciphered that then, her apprehension hadn’t phased the young boy. Every day for a few days the two young boys would roam the same streets, causing ruckus; sticks in hand and determination to ignore rules. And yet; every day, the little girl stood, dirt marring her little face.
On the third day, Kale had been alone. Out of his need to learn and explore, the boy boldly took mindset to find out about the little girl. If she didn’t want his company, so be it, but if she did, it meant another friend at least. Those came so few lately to him that the little boy wasn’t sure what to do with them when he had them. There were no formal hellos, no pleasant greetings. Just two grubby little children of parents who hardly had any money to their name. “What‘s with you, staring every day?” He had asked, chest puffed out and shoulders straight. He would surely have more smarts over a little girl.
Her reply had been vehemently given, and his only comment had been that if she wanted to know what they were doing, she needn’t have asked or stayed away. All she had to have done was to take up and follow, the rest would fall into place. The next months had moved swiftly, the oldest of the three had passed from hunger and illness shortly after their meeting which had left Kale and his determined little pupil of the streets. Even through working at home he found the time to spend with her; often hiding her in places until everyone else left the room.
What extra little food they had went to her and his father merely accepted it as rats pilfering the home. It went on for a while until a cold, dreary day spent too far from the familiar streets. He had only been nearly seven, Kale accepted that now, but he had only turned his back for a short period, he had thought she’d been behind him. In a short time period on that cold, dreary day, his closest friend disappeared as if a puff of smoke. Kale remembered; his little body had refused sleep that night, his worry had gnawed at his stomach while tears drowned his eyes. He’d failed his only friend, it was likely she wouldn’t survive so far from the home streets.
That terrifying memory pushed behind, Kale went on to grow up soundly for a few years, growing taller and leaner; his skin beginning to fit onto his bones proportionally. The year he turned thirteen and his new little sister one year, his father had passed. It wasn’t anything anyone would think it, surrounded by family nor warm and confessing things that needed to pass on through dying lips. No; the man had simply just died. He’d stood from the table, clutched his chest and fell over, and the kind hearted, loving, late Mr. Paxton was no more. It was immediately after that Kale took as much responsibility as a thirteen year old could for their family. His sister grew and memories of the past faded, he grew along with her under the watchful eye of his mother and things went on.
Now though; things aren’t as pleasant as they are possible to be. Mrs. Paxton’s own body has been failing her but her wit and stern attitude had not. Her hold on her children grows by day as her body slowly perishes while Kale, now twenty, does whatever possible to keep the only family in his life taken care of. There is no other way to live for him, or so he thinks.
••BEHIND THE M ASK••
(Me) Name: Revverse, with offshoots of Revvie, Rev, Revviekins… Although Jessie or Jess works just fine with those I’m comfortable with. J
Age: My last year of being a teenager… so sad.
RP experience: Er, started somewhere in ‘04, ‘05. Never have figured the exact year.
Other Characters: Er… none currently.
(roleplay) This should have been simple, but of course it wasn’t. Cassie was still a bit sore over the whole thing that she couldn’t go with her mother instead of her little brothers. What was the difference? Was there any reason why her father never let her leave his side, whereas everyone else could come and go as they pleased? On the outside, Cassie looked and probably acted like the cliché ’daddy’s little girl’ front she’d grown behind. The reason for looking like it was simple, because she had to. Her reasons for acting like it weren’t, she did it because if she didn’t, it wouldn’t be believable. That and she always had other motives in what she did other than those that people thought she had.
As she sat there, staring down this man before her, her eyes scrutinized every part of him, right down to his movements and what he wore and the way his hair was fixed that day, which really wasn’t fixed in any way at all. It looked as if he’d simply rolled out of bed, but somewhere in her she’d decided the look suited him well. The more Cassie thought about it, the more she decided he really wasn’t all that bad to look at or even all that scary looking. Why people who had nothing to do with their table judged him from their looks and discussions, she didn’t know. It certainly didn’t mean she had decided to go soft on this fellow, but she decided if this was her bodyguard, then she could definitely have fun while he was.
Cassie wasn’t always the prettiest girl of the bunch with her long, wavy locks of dark golden hair, big doe eyes and small chin, but she could definitely hold her own. She didn’t use her looks to her advantage, she was plain and she liked it that way. Besides, she had seen too many girls in her family use what they looked like to get somewhere. None of them had gotten anything but countless partners in bed behind them and stabbed reputations. She didn’t want that. Before she knew it, Cassie had placed an elbow improperly onto the table, her chin resting in the palm of her hand as she thought about it all. Throughout this whole thought process, she hadn’t stared at the man before her the entire time, but she had during bits and pieces of it. All in all, to conclude, Cassie was a more complex individual than the shallow rich girl she played.
“You should make it your problem then.” She spoke, her tone low, holding the faintest edge of firmness before the waitress came up and asked for her order. “Noth-” She was going to say nothing, but then her great big heap of bodyguard went on and ordered a breakfast the size of Texas. The waitress wrote it down with wide eyes; while Cassie was surprised they even had that kind of food here. It wasn’t the fanciest café in town, but it definitely didn’t normally serve that kind of food to her knowledge. Or maybe people here were too scared to order it. Clearing her throat as the waitress asked for her order, she looked up carefully. “As I was going to say. I’d like a cup of coffee, and since my company here is having enough breakfast for five people, I’d like an order of… toast.” Really, Cassie was never much of an eater as it was. She liked food when she was having it, but she merely ate until she was full and that was that.
The waitress left and she turned to the man before her. “Don’t you know what’s in that stuff you ordered? I can hear your arteries dying one by one right now.” It wasn’t her place what he ate just as it wasn’t his what she did, but she felt compelled to tell him. “At least it’s yours and not mine.” She looked away quietly and let her thoughts drift. Her comment about the arteries had more backing to it though. Her thoughts drifted to her mother, and for a moment she was sad by it. It was only a matter of months before her heart gave out and the thought made Cassie slightly sick to her stomach. She’d spoken to him and asked her question, and her thoughts were brought to the present when the man before her announced his name. “Good, we’re getting somewhere then, Declan.” It was probably more polite of her to call him Mr. Gallagher, but she wasn’t feeling particularly happy toward him right now seeing as he had ruined her plan of a day spent alone and away from the house.
Even as she thought about it, her lower lip pouted because of it. Was it that hard to let her have a day alone? The whole tampon trick had been good, probably her best. She could only imagine what her father had complained about herself to this man before her when hiring him. It was then that he spoke and as he went on his small tirade, she felt as if she were being lectured by her father. Her arms folded faintly across her chest and she stared at him with a bored manner. It was really hiding the part in her that wanted to tell Declan to just piss off and leave her alone, there were other jobs to be had. That and she simply wanted to fall into tears; she couldn’t take this closed in feeling any longer. She did neither of course and when he was done, she gave a low, quiet, knowing sigh.
“You’re right, that’s what a psych is for, though I don’t have one.” A light smile tugged at the corner of her mouth before she went on. “And yeah, I’m entitled to be a little sore that my father won’t give me a little more freedom. I can’t even go to school because of his bullsh- uh, because of it.” Really she hadn’t a clue why she’d added on that last part and slightly got angry with herself for feeling the smallest sense of comfortable with Declan before her. She was entitled to that though she supposed, she’d never had a bodyguard that was younger than forty-two, so it was a given they’d all been ugly and not her type. Or just pedophiles. “I never said my life was horrible, Gallagher.” She added quietly, eyeing him seriously as she did. “Didn’t imply it either. I was just asking a question because maybe I’d like to know what my new babys-” The waitress came up and placed both plates of hot, steaming food before them. Instantly, she felt hungry, but didn’t eye the food until the waitress had left.
“To be honest, Gallagher?” She asked quietly, not bothering to ask if it were alright to call him that. “I really think you brought up the subject of a horrible life because you're guilty of it.” She said, with a tone of gentleness. Really she wasn’t being ugly, but a motive deep down compelled her to do what she was doing with an ugly undertone. “Here,” She reached out for his hand just as she dug in her pocket for one of the remaining tampons there from her adventure that morning. “Hold out your hand,” Cassie continued, placing her small hand below his own, the tips of her fingers touching the back of his hand. She barely felt the rough, bony material that made up his hand as she reached out with her other and placed it over his palm, placing the tampon there. “Present from me.” She said quietly, “Just because you're on your man cycle doesn’t mean you need to take it out on me. By the way, those are the large, super absorbency. I find them useful.” She pulled her hands away and looked quietly at her small meal before taking up a triangle of the buttered bread and took a small bite.
••THEPLAYBOOK••
so, this was made by jenny a.k.a slytherdorclaw of blank pages!. this took a while so, as always, don't steal. um, yeah. so that's it, really. {with edits by staff}
