Name:
Kyran Lindstrom
Age:
Seventeen
Gender:
Male
Appearance:
Kyran is almost as average as a person can get. He stands at five feet, nine inches, and hangs out at a weight he can never quite pin down. He’s always gaining a few pounds here and there when he tries something new and gets the munchies, or losing a few pounds when he gets caught up in the party and forgets to eat. He stays relatively in shape with his daily exercise. A lack of a car forces him to walk everywhere he goes. Bicycle used to be his exercise of choice until he got stoned and rode it into a telephone pole. His eyes, which sit under heavy brows, are a dark brown that glazes over occasionally when he drinks or smokes too much, but beyond that, they don’t change. His nose is slightly large for his face, but he gave up caring about that years ago. His messy hair is similar in color to his eyes. He can never seem to comb it right, so he generally shakes it out and leaves it as is.
His wardrobe is pretty constant every day. He wears a solid colored t-shirt, usually navy blue, grey, or some other non-descript color, and jeans with a pair of worn out Nikes. A black and grey hooded jacket that probably hasn’t been washed in the last year completes the look of an uncaring teenager.
Personality:
Kyran isn’t necessarily a douchebag, but he isn’t the nicest of people, either. In the simplest of terms, he is rather uncaring. He doesn’t go out of his way to be rude to people, nor does he make an effort to make them feel all warm and fuzzy. He is usually just blunt with his words. He says what he means and means what he says. If it hurts somebody, fine. That’s their problem, not his.
Loyalty to friends isn’t something he’s strong at, either. In his eyes, it’s every man for himself. If a friend gets insulted and fists are thrown, he’ll sit there and egg on the fight, but he tries not to get himself involved. Coming home drunk is one thing, but coming home drunk and bruised is something completely different. Bruises are a lot harder to hide than alcohol on the breath is.
Authority figures are no exception to his “say what you mean” rule. If he gets pissed off at a teacher or his parents, he’ll say so, regardless of the consequences. This has landed him with so many consecutive in-school suspensions that going to school is beginning to seem more and more worthless to him.
History:
Kyran was born and raised in Chicago. In his early years, his parents tried to be the hands-on type that wanted to chaperone for field trips, bake cookies for the school fundraiser, and coach Little League games. It quickly became apparent, though, that Kyran wasn’t good at Little League, nor was he interested in it. As for the field trips and the cookies, his mother realized that she had to choose between being a mother and having a career. She chose the career.
Around middle school, he started to fall into the wrong crowd. He found the guys who knew which entrances and exits were unmonitored. He learned the best ways and times to sneak out of the school. He met the crowd that had no problem stealing cigarettes from their mother’s purse or alcohol from their dad’s liquor cabinet. At that time, the school kept tabs on everybody. They called home if you were absent from any of your classes. Quite a few calls went home to Kyran’s parents. They met with the principle, they talked to Kyran, they pretended to care, but it didn’t make a difference.
In high school, that crowd got bigger and more dangerous. Interesting new cigarettes showed up. Harder liquor was brought out. Drugs came onto the scene. And a party surrounded it all. Around the same time, Kyran met his cousin, Avery Kessell. The two had apparently played together several times as kids, but Kyran had no recollection of the kid. All he knew was that Avery was his age, he had been living in Germany for several years, and he hung with the same crowd. The last bit was all Kyran cared about. Living fairly close to each other meant the two started to hang out more and more, and eventually, they became a sort of pair. Avery was the closest thing Kyran had and ever would have to a best friend. Kyran didn’t mind the boy’s attitude much, nor did he mind often being considered Avery’s “sidekick”. He didn’t want the power or influence Avery had, and quite frankly, he just liked having somebody to travel the streets with.
Sample RP:
Kyran Lindstrom
Age:
Seventeen
Gender:
Male
Appearance:
Kyran is almost as average as a person can get. He stands at five feet, nine inches, and hangs out at a weight he can never quite pin down. He’s always gaining a few pounds here and there when he tries something new and gets the munchies, or losing a few pounds when he gets caught up in the party and forgets to eat. He stays relatively in shape with his daily exercise. A lack of a car forces him to walk everywhere he goes. Bicycle used to be his exercise of choice until he got stoned and rode it into a telephone pole. His eyes, which sit under heavy brows, are a dark brown that glazes over occasionally when he drinks or smokes too much, but beyond that, they don’t change. His nose is slightly large for his face, but he gave up caring about that years ago. His messy hair is similar in color to his eyes. He can never seem to comb it right, so he generally shakes it out and leaves it as is.
His wardrobe is pretty constant every day. He wears a solid colored t-shirt, usually navy blue, grey, or some other non-descript color, and jeans with a pair of worn out Nikes. A black and grey hooded jacket that probably hasn’t been washed in the last year completes the look of an uncaring teenager.
Personality:
Kyran isn’t necessarily a douchebag, but he isn’t the nicest of people, either. In the simplest of terms, he is rather uncaring. He doesn’t go out of his way to be rude to people, nor does he make an effort to make them feel all warm and fuzzy. He is usually just blunt with his words. He says what he means and means what he says. If it hurts somebody, fine. That’s their problem, not his.
Loyalty to friends isn’t something he’s strong at, either. In his eyes, it’s every man for himself. If a friend gets insulted and fists are thrown, he’ll sit there and egg on the fight, but he tries not to get himself involved. Coming home drunk is one thing, but coming home drunk and bruised is something completely different. Bruises are a lot harder to hide than alcohol on the breath is.
Authority figures are no exception to his “say what you mean” rule. If he gets pissed off at a teacher or his parents, he’ll say so, regardless of the consequences. This has landed him with so many consecutive in-school suspensions that going to school is beginning to seem more and more worthless to him.
History:
Kyran was born and raised in Chicago. In his early years, his parents tried to be the hands-on type that wanted to chaperone for field trips, bake cookies for the school fundraiser, and coach Little League games. It quickly became apparent, though, that Kyran wasn’t good at Little League, nor was he interested in it. As for the field trips and the cookies, his mother realized that she had to choose between being a mother and having a career. She chose the career.
Around middle school, he started to fall into the wrong crowd. He found the guys who knew which entrances and exits were unmonitored. He learned the best ways and times to sneak out of the school. He met the crowd that had no problem stealing cigarettes from their mother’s purse or alcohol from their dad’s liquor cabinet. At that time, the school kept tabs on everybody. They called home if you were absent from any of your classes. Quite a few calls went home to Kyran’s parents. They met with the principle, they talked to Kyran, they pretended to care, but it didn’t make a difference.
In high school, that crowd got bigger and more dangerous. Interesting new cigarettes showed up. Harder liquor was brought out. Drugs came onto the scene. And a party surrounded it all. Around the same time, Kyran met his cousin, Avery Kessell. The two had apparently played together several times as kids, but Kyran had no recollection of the kid. All he knew was that Avery was his age, he had been living in Germany for several years, and he hung with the same crowd. The last bit was all Kyran cared about. Living fairly close to each other meant the two started to hang out more and more, and eventually, they became a sort of pair. Avery was the closest thing Kyran had and ever would have to a best friend. Kyran didn’t mind the boy’s attitude much, nor did he mind often being considered Avery’s “sidekick”. He didn’t want the power or influence Avery had, and quite frankly, he just liked having somebody to travel the streets with.
Sample RP:
- Spoiler:
- “Football, huh?” River mused. “I hope all the hard work paid off. I mean, it clearly paid off physically because you’re looking damn good, but I hope you made the varsity team, too. From what I’ve heard, they take that stuff seriously down there. As for us Californians—well, as for the Halvorsons—it was all about the dinner parties and impressing the high and mighties of the week. Anyway, I digress…” River trailed off and listened to Russell answer the rest of her questions. “Ah, Latin,” she sighed when he brought it up. “In moriens lingua, the dying language. Did I ever tell you I had to learn that growing up? Mrs. Lorenzen found it necessary for all of us to learn it. I guess it sort of paid off for me, but I didn’t like it at the time. The only reason I continued it in high school was because I already knew it. Didn’t really help with the rest of Rome, though. I still don’t get how half this stuff between Roman gods and kids works. Anyway, I’m rambling again.”
River shut up for a few minutes to let Russell answer her last question. He had let something more interesting, or at least more important, take over his life. If only she had found something like that. “I kind of got mixed up with the Barbie dolls the year after we were there together,” she said. “They were the girls who wore too much make-up, spent all their passing time in the bathroom gossiping or fixing their hair, and didn’t participate in any activities outside of school. I know, hard to believe that was me. They accepted me and liked me, though, and as a freshman in high school, that was all I wanted. They probably just saw me as somebody they could fix, but I didn’t see that at the time. Long story short, mom and dad had the money to send me back to camp, I had changed in the year between, and they thought it would be more fun the second time. It sucked, so you know, but at least I figured out that the Barbies didn’t really like me.” River trailed off again, mentally kicking herself for bringing all of that up. They were just stupid fifteen-year-old issues. She had gone through a lot of different things since she had last seen Russell, so why did she have to bring that up? It wasn’t super important, but she realized she wanted Russell to know what had happened to her in that time.
Russell suddenly added a bold statement to his last answer. “I wanted to see you, though.” That made River smile. She had been so afraid that Russell would completely forget her after their two weeks together. She wouldn’t have been surprised, considering it was just two weeks out of their entire lives and they had never exchanged contact info. She didn’t forget him, though, and she had always wondered what things would have been like if they had stayed in touch. Before she could dwell too much on it, Russell added one more bit. “I was gonna kiss you that night by the creek.” River stared at him, her dark eyes wide with shock. She was suddenly transported back to that night, seeing the stars shining overhead, hearing the creek bubbling over the rocky bed, watching herself shyly turn away from the intense look Russell had been giving her between the jokes… Pulling herself back to the present, River searched the boy’s eyes, and she could instantly tell he was serious. “I didn’t want to consider that possibility,” she said, her voice little more than a whisper. “That would have made it so much harder when we had to leave. I…Do you still feel that way?” River wasn’t sure what she would do if the answer was yes, but she had to ask. She had to know.
