Post by Sebastian Cunningham on Sept 8, 2008 4:48:09 GMT -5
“what is your name?
SEBASTIAN CUNNINGHAM
__________________________________________________
SEBASTIAN CUNNINGHAM
__________________________________________________
“who are you, really?
YOUR NAME -- AxeOTHER CHARACTERS -- None as of yet.
CONTACT INFO -- PM please; then afterwards... I also have AIM, and MSN.
“tell me about yourself.
[/sup][/center] FULL NAME -- Sebastian Alan Cunningham.NICKNAMES -- Seb & Bastian.
AGE AND BIRTHDATE -- 18; 14 March 1990.
GENDER -- Male.
YEAR -- year 13.
SEXUAL ORIENTATION -- Gay/Homosexual.
NATIONALITY -- New Zealander.
RELIGION -- None.
BIRTHPLACE -- Auckland, New Zealand.
HOMETOWN -- Auckland, New Zealand.
CURRENT RESIDENCE -- On campus.
“what do you look like?
[/sup][/center] HAIR -- BlondEYES -- Blue/Gray
HEIGHT/WEIGHT -- 6'1" / 135lbs
BODY TYPE -- Skinny/lanky but muscled.
OVERALL HEALTH -- Good, is allergic to pollen.
OTHER NOTABLE TRAITS -- Always styled perfectly.
PLAY BY -- Hayden Christensen.
“how do you perceive yourself?
[/sup][/center] LIKES -- Coffee; Gossip; Boys; Music; Thunderstorms; Writing; Parties; Fire; Romance; Clove Cigarettes; Playing Pool; Rain; Reading; Sushi; Food; Guitars; Cars; TV; Chocolate; Sweets; Piercings; Fashion; Design; Acting; Comedians; Art; Make-up and Parties.
DISLIKES --
Homophobic people; bugs; Red Meat; bad art; Beer and liars.
WORST FEAR -- To wake up and have his looks ruined; aka: to have his eyebrows shaved off or his hair cut. He's also afraid of the dark.
BIGGEST SECRET OR REGRET -- He only just found out he was adopted. He isn't ready to let anyone know that he is just yet; but he's still angry about it.
GREATEST AMBITION -- To be an well paid actor and to live a life of luster and infamy.
DEFINING QUALITY -- The desire to bring a smile to his friends (and non-friends) faces.
IDIOSYNCRASIES -- Is addicted to scarves and forever wears them. Likes weird tasting things and is very childish sometimes.
PERSONALITY
[/ul]
“what about your life?
[/sup][/center] FAMILY FATHER -- Micheal Cunningham (adopted mother)
SIBLINGS -- None; only child.
OTHER NOTABLE RELATIVES -- N/A
[/ul]BIOGRAPHY
It had taken him a while to find his way around, and boy had he felt uncomfortable walking around the grounds, it was sure different around here. Sliding down to the black cement, he pulled out a cigarette from behind his ear and slipped it between pink pursed lips. He was surprised he hadn't been strip searched or something, with all those teachers around.
Then again he hadn't really waited around to find out, as soon as the car had left, Sebastian had pulled his bag over his shoulder, carried his guitar case with him and had found somewhere to go where he could be alone for a while. It had taken a bit to find this place and he'd found it purely by accident. he'd actually decided to go and sit up on the stairwell and had just ended up following them up and up and up, and had come upon this place, deciding that it would be perfect.
Reaching down, Sebastian flicked open the clips on the guitar case and opened it with the toe of his black Nighthawk boots. The guitar inside was beautifully preserved. It had been his mothers, and now it was his; even if he didn't know how to play it very well, he was more into piano. His blue eyes swept critically swept over the cherry red wooden custom made Gibson. There was the tiniest chip in the neck of the guitar where his dad had tried to take it and had whacked it against a door. Sebastian had been so f**king pissed off with him, that he'd left and hadn't come back for a whole week. And when he had he'd brought a whole lot of friends and started a party and 4am in the morning.
"Allie..." He whispered almost silently, smiled and ran his fingertips over the strings setting them off into a soft musical hum. He'd kind of named her after his mother, Alleen was her middle name, and since it had been hers, he wanted to make it even more memorable. Reaching under the guitar he found a small button hooked into a black ribbon. he flicked it free and reached inside, pulling out his silver lighter and bringing it up to the cigarette between his lip. Lighting it he flicked the top back over and inhaled slowly, who knew how long his stash would last.
He slipped the lighter back inside with his journal, cigarettes, and family pictures--well really it was only a picture of his mother and him before he had left. He did the button back up and pulled the guitar out gently, letting the strap fall about his slender shoulders, shifting and adjusting his baby blue scarf to have the guitar sit comfortably. Sucking on the cigarette between his lips, he sent out a stream of blue/gray smoke out towards the clouds before dragging his fingertips over the strings.
He reached back down and flicked open the button once again, pulling out a thing red leather book, and a pen. he placed it down open on a clean page and started to write a couple of things. he was alone so he could speak... for now. Strumming some chords, Sebastian hummed a little then started to play a deep baritone type of song, the vibrations comforting. He stoped and leaned down writing a few lines.
Softly he sung the words around the cigarette in his mouth, the ass dropping down to cling to his faded stone wash jeans. He reached down and rubbed it away, pulling the cigarette from his lips and blowing gently on the end, watching in fascination as the end glowed even brighter. He smirked his usual downward smirk and the flicked the ash away before bring it back to rest between his lips.
Sighing, Sebastian tucked his hair behind his ear and sucked hard, sending the spark through the cigarette towards the end. He breathed the smoke out of his nose once again, the smoke reminding him vaguely of a ghostly train. He started to play again, putting the words to the music in his mind, humming in tune softly. After a few moments his lips started to burn and he pulled the now finished cigarette from his lips throwing it away and running a red tongue over his lips, making them slick and plush.
Now that he had no cigarette he started to sing softly, he wasn't the GREATEST singer, more a song writer than anything, but his voice was in tune and clear, apart from a slight slur that his mum used to say reminded her of a young Bob Dylan. He closed his eyes and picked up the guitar again, working his fingers nimbly over the strings, now singing the lyrics softly as he played the music, cussing under his breath occasionally and adjusting chords and starting all over again, his mind feeling lighter than it had in a long time, he felt free up here, even though he knew that sooner or later he would have to go back down into the building.
Anyone who looked at him would have difficulty deciding what he was here for, but he was here to act and to write, the music was more of a hobby than anything.
Then again he hadn't really waited around to find out, as soon as the car had left, Sebastian had pulled his bag over his shoulder, carried his guitar case with him and had found somewhere to go where he could be alone for a while. It had taken a bit to find this place and he'd found it purely by accident. he'd actually decided to go and sit up on the stairwell and had just ended up following them up and up and up, and had come upon this place, deciding that it would be perfect.
Reaching down, Sebastian flicked open the clips on the guitar case and opened it with the toe of his black Nighthawk boots. The guitar inside was beautifully preserved. It had been his mothers, and now it was his; even if he didn't know how to play it very well, he was more into piano. His blue eyes swept critically swept over the cherry red wooden custom made Gibson. There was the tiniest chip in the neck of the guitar where his dad had tried to take it and had whacked it against a door. Sebastian had been so f**king pissed off with him, that he'd left and hadn't come back for a whole week. And when he had he'd brought a whole lot of friends and started a party and 4am in the morning.
"Allie..." He whispered almost silently, smiled and ran his fingertips over the strings setting them off into a soft musical hum. He'd kind of named her after his mother, Alleen was her middle name, and since it had been hers, he wanted to make it even more memorable. Reaching under the guitar he found a small button hooked into a black ribbon. he flicked it free and reached inside, pulling out his silver lighter and bringing it up to the cigarette between his lip. Lighting it he flicked the top back over and inhaled slowly, who knew how long his stash would last.
He slipped the lighter back inside with his journal, cigarettes, and family pictures--well really it was only a picture of his mother and him before he had left. He did the button back up and pulled the guitar out gently, letting the strap fall about his slender shoulders, shifting and adjusting his baby blue scarf to have the guitar sit comfortably. Sucking on the cigarette between his lips, he sent out a stream of blue/gray smoke out towards the clouds before dragging his fingertips over the strings.
He reached back down and flicked open the button once again, pulling out a thing red leather book, and a pen. he placed it down open on a clean page and started to write a couple of things. he was alone so he could speak... for now. Strumming some chords, Sebastian hummed a little then started to play a deep baritone type of song, the vibrations comforting. He stoped and leaned down writing a few lines.
Softly he sung the words around the cigarette in his mouth, the ass dropping down to cling to his faded stone wash jeans. He reached down and rubbed it away, pulling the cigarette from his lips and blowing gently on the end, watching in fascination as the end glowed even brighter. He smirked his usual downward smirk and the flicked the ash away before bring it back to rest between his lips.
Sighing, Sebastian tucked his hair behind his ear and sucked hard, sending the spark through the cigarette towards the end. He breathed the smoke out of his nose once again, the smoke reminding him vaguely of a ghostly train. He started to play again, putting the words to the music in his mind, humming in tune softly. After a few moments his lips started to burn and he pulled the now finished cigarette from his lips throwing it away and running a red tongue over his lips, making them slick and plush.
Now that he had no cigarette he started to sing softly, he wasn't the GREATEST singer, more a song writer than anything, but his voice was in tune and clear, apart from a slight slur that his mum used to say reminded her of a young Bob Dylan. He closed his eyes and picked up the guitar again, working his fingers nimbly over the strings, now singing the lyrics softly as he played the music, cussing under his breath occasionally and adjusting chords and starting all over again, his mind feeling lighter than it had in a long time, he felt free up here, even though he knew that sooner or later he would have to go back down into the building.
Anyone who looked at him would have difficulty deciding what he was here for, but he was here to act and to write, the music was more of a hobby than anything.
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