Post by Fabre d'Eglantine on Sept 17, 2008 0:21:44 GMT -5
The Roleplayer
Name: Call me Noel.
Contacts: Can't really give these out much. Don't want to either.
Roleplaying Experience: A few years... Don't remember the exact time. A lot on Neopets, but on other sites. Just a little over a year with this character specifically.
Activity Level: I try to be on every day.
Favorite Book(s): Um... I like reading Warriors, and at this time, that is all I am reading, though I have many others.
The Character
Full Name: Kyle Mitchel Gertz
Nicknames: By good friends called Kylie, or Ky-Ky
Age: 30
Side: His with the police, always has been, always will be.
What are they? Regular human.
Powers: None.
Occupation: Police Officer. (I have no clue about rank. Normally he's chief, but not here.) He's a regular officer... Out on the streets all the time. Cause he likes it that way.
Appearance: He's a burly officer, tall at 6'6". Light blue eyes... Lighter than sky blue definitely. Black hair, not cut as short, messy a bit. He's pale, due to several long night shifts and sleeping during the day. Normally looks serious. Seems to always be wearing his police uniform, being seemingly obsessed with the job.
Personality:
Normally a serious 'Stick to the rules' guy. The officer does not let others get away with breaking the rules. If he can catch them. Used to giving the orders instead of taking them, though will follow directions. Just not happily. Can be nice, if one is nice to him. Likes animals for sure. Not trusting, but someone can gain his trust, after some work. He hates not knowing all of the information after he learns some.
Likes: Kyle likes many things. Children are one. His reasoning has not been explained, but the tough officer has a soft spot for little children. Ten and under. A bit older, and it's iffy. He also has a love for animals, as his dog was the only one there for him as a child. He likes his job. A lot. It makes him feel important, and worth something. Many other things, though I won't get into favorite foods and such.
Dislikes: Well, he dislikes, or more hates, abusers of any sort. Whether it be animal or child abusers. He doesn't like water, due to his father attempting to drown him several times. Spiders are also on the list, though his hating of them is not obvious, or explained. He also hates people feeling sorry for him and making a big deal of it. He doesn't like sharing his story anyways.
Strengths: Kyle is determined and loyal to his friends. Hating to break his promises, he is a trustworthy man. Strong naturally, and intelligent as well. Good with keeping his temper (Most of the time). He's friendly towards other officers, but not so much with the suspects.
Weaknesses: He's a bit obsessive over the job, bringing him to work longer hours. At times, he'll work himself too much. He is stubborn, as well as being a bit controlling at times. Too much. Often refuses to use his gun (Anti-violence sort of person) and gets himself hurt. He's got his thing with kids, and gets distracted by some smaller things at times. Doesn't quite share out ideas at first. Or anything for that matter. Keeps his feelings in him, finding they get in the way of work. He isn't trusting at first. Not fearful, just won't trust a person for a while. Tends to get a bit nosey. Too much it seems, and he annoys others with this. Especially when he gets himself involved with cases and such. Pain medications are not allowed to be given to him. Bad results come from it.
Fears: Sort of put in the dislikes section.
History: Kyle has not had the best life. His father was a normal police officer, till some accident seemed to change him a year after Kyle was born. He lost his job after becoming an alcoholic, becoming more violent toward Kyle's mother, and the child himself. The mother hardly came home, leaving Kyle alone. First violent act that Kyle remembered from his father was the drowning incident. The young three year old just taking a bath, his father came in. Must have been drunk, because right there he tried to hold Kyle under till he drowned. Failed that, he returned to the beatings. When Kyle was ten, having a three year old sister and a dog, his father killed his young sister, on his birthday. Kyle didn't tell a single person till after he moved out, and by the time he did, his father had seemingly vanished. Still now, Kyle hasn't come up with the confidence to find and arrest his father.
"Hey daddy!?" The young voice called from the other room, the small boy walking in, though almost with a little waddle. The three year old smiled, staring up at the large man who sat at the table. A bottle of foul smelling liquid in one hand, though the child knew nothing about what the substance was. The other was used to write out paperwork.
The young Kyle groaned, scrambling up onto his father's lap. He looked at the paper, and the odd lines, then at his father. The police officer gave an annoyed look, which worsened as the child started playing with his badge and the pieces on his uniform. Admiring how shiny the metal badge was, the boy was unaware of his dad's rising anger.
"Stop that!" The officer snapped, and Kyle jumped, falling to the side. He didn't understand it. He never did. Not yet at least. He knew nothing different, though it hurt. He started crying, and the man growled, picking him up off the ground. "I told you to go to bed!" He yelled in the young boy's face, the smell of his breath carrying the scent of alcohol. That substance. Kyle looked away, crying harder. He yelped, thrown back into his bed after being carried up the stairs.
"Daddy.... I-" He was cut off by the slamming of a door, locking him into the dark and scary room. He stared into the dark corners, shaking and shivering, imagining things. Things coming out. Things grabbing him. Trying. Attacking like his father, yet he didn't see the warning in these images he saw. As if he couldn't comprehend his own thoughts. He cried out, screaming in terror and pain.
The crying and screaming, it never ceased. Not at all through the night, but not a person even heard. Not a person but his father, who just fell asleep on the couch, turning the tv up to drown his son's cries out as he fell asleep.
He looked up, sitting in the bed, face in his small hands. He parted his fingers slightly, then lowered his hands. "Daddy..." He murmured. The man came forward, sitting on the bed beside Kyle. A new, friendly look came on his face, different from the night before. The boy smiled, looking at him. It dropped as his father's look turned harsh, and his large hands gripped the three year olds arms tightly.
"How many times do I have to tell you. Be quiet and let me sleep!" The man shouted in the child's face once more, and the boy nodded and whimpered. His father shook his head, tossing the boy to the ground and leaving the room with anger. Kyle sat up, crying, tears streaming down his face, his head hurting. He brought his hands over his head, shivering in fear. This hurt so bad... Why did it hurt so bad?
Two years past, and things got worse. The throwing continued, harsh spankings and slaps across the face added. The child started to learn to leave daddy alone. Not yet fully taught as much though.
The five year old came up the stairs, after having gotten a snack. He had been hungry, no big deal. He saw his father, standing at the top, and looked confused at him.
"What were you doing?" His father demanded. The man never used Kyle's name. Never. The boy didn't know why, he just didn't. He was always addressed as 'boy' or 'child' or other things... Including a 'worthless thing'.
"I... I was hungry daddy. I got something to eat..." The kindergartener explained, and the man's anger flared. That same scent from his breath that the boy had become used to smelling. That alcohol. It reached his nose again as he was grabbed by his shirt.
"I did not tell you that you could eat!" His father yelled, shoving him. The boy fell, tumbling down the stairs. He cried and whined, a terrified shriek as he was shoved, then silence as he hit the floor at the bottom of the steps.
He woke, in a white room, bright. This wasn't home... Home was dark. Home was scary. Home smelled like alcohol. Smelled like daddy. He looked around in awe and saw nobody. Nobody except his father, staring in anger. He gulped, waiting for the pain. It never came. He was surprised, but understood why as a man came in. A long white coat over him. The child looked at the male curiously, but didn't listen to the short conversation between his father and the man.
Things got worse, as they normally did. By the age of ten, Kyle was running into the backyard each night, hiding in a tree just to get away. Get away from those beatings. Get away from that man. He wasn't even Kyle's father anymore. At least, the boy didn't think so.
It just got worse, and worse.
By the age of fifteen, Kyle was a quiet boy. Only home to sleep, and slipping in and out his window every day. His father never looked for him, and he figured it best. He worked for the animal shelter. It took time, but he had finally pleaded enough. Pleaded enough to get paid, though giving no explanation as to why he wanted money.
He ate out a lot, though sometimes ran into his father coming home, who had started waiting on the porch for him. The man took the fifteen year old's money when it was found, and Kyle never fought back. Maybe because he was too week, or maybe just because he had never fought back before. Most likely the second, being that habits had been drilled into his mind at such a young age.
Tonight. This was the night. The night he fought back.
He walked up the driveway, to find his father there. Like normal. He refused. Refused to give the money. His father glared, and followed him into the kitchen.
"Give it to me now boy!" The man shouted. Kyle shook his head. His father glared, throwing a harsh punch at his son's face, hitting. Kyle groaned, bringing a hand to his face for a second. He glared in return.
"No! Not to you!" The teen shouted, and was startled and pained as he was shoved against the counter. He never had fought a thing in his life. He couldn't defend himself, even against his slightly shorter father. He just didn't know how. Moving out of the way as his father lunged again, though not expecting the next.
A sharp and terrible pain entering the right side of his chest, the terror filled shriek coming from him, the pain clouding his eyes. He could feel the blood, staining his shirt as his father yanked the large knife from him. He stared up at the man, the sickening look of amusement in the man's eyes fearing him. He collapsed then, everything around going black.
Two years passed after that night, and Kyle never fought his father again. After telling the doctors that they had been cooking, Kyle carrying the knife. Kyle tripped, sending the blade into his chest, hitting his face on the ground. Then his father flipped him over, and in a panic, pulled the knife out. A big, fat, lie. That was for sure.
He entered the home, after years of being away. The large home brought back so many memories. Pain filled nights, his father's screaming and hitting, drowning, falling from the stairs, his sister and dog dying after his birthday. He shook his head, attempting to shove the thoughts away. He had been in New York, working with the ASPCA. A bond with animals had brought him to love the job, connecting well with the abused and neglected animals. He had wanted more, and wanted to come back and arrest his father for what had been done. He had found that regular police work satisfied his wants better, felt better for him. After that, he had returned to Shawl.
Now, he was surprised to find the house empty. Completely. Cleared of all items, all furniture, everything except what was attached. It made no sense at first, his father having sworn never to leave the home. The officer searched, making sure that the man really was gone. He was, and a terrible feeling came through Kyle. This was not good. For him at least. Either his father was looking for him, or had gone missing, but either way Kyle wouldn't be able to rest well till that man was found and contained.
Never happened, yet. Kyle still couldn't find him, and that feeling never left. Fear, worry, and even dissapointment. He had been so set on getting his father to pay for his actions, and now it seemed that was an impossible task. He was probably dead, but the officer would never except the fact and relax until he saw the body for himself.
Education: Graduated highschool at a high level, going to the police academy after, sure that he wanted to at least be involved in law enforcement. Did well there too.
How does he fit?He's a police officer... Makes a lot of things his business.
Roleplay Sample:
The burly officer followed along, towards the back of the group and shivering slightly. Not because it was cold, he was sick, and was wearing short sleeves. No. He was afraid of his own nephew. Which was a lot, as Kyle was hardly ever afraid of anything. He made no sound, said no words. He felt no need. Nor did he want to speak.
Beside him, walked the large and still growing tiger. A strong creature, it walked with pride, it's large paws making hardly any sound on the floor as it walked. Striped tail swinging behindhi, purring lightly as Kyle's hand was set on him. The officer held no flashlight, using the glow from Lance and the tiger's movement to guide him. The animal's icy eyes watched the other guards. The large cat yawned, showing it's teeth, then returned to normal walking.
'I don't know why I'm coming...' He shook his head 'I should have stayed in my room... If I see anymore blood I think I'll throw up.' He kept his hand on Kiar, glad the white tiger was there. He was protection. Absiddy could not kill the feline, or hurt him as much as he had Mitchel. The police chief shook his head once more. 'Why am I so scared? I'm a cop... I shouldn't be...' He then remembered the scene from earlier. 'He'll eat me. That's why...' He groaned, then quieted the thoughts.
"Alright Absiddy..." He finally gained the courage to speak. "Ill ask you again. Please, explain yourself." He stared, trying to hide the fear that rose to a higher level as he spoke. This man was related to him, yet he was a killer. Killed to kill for all Kyle knew. No explanations given. Yet. He just hoped that the man would give him something here. Just one little bit at least.
Any last words? The roleplay sample may be replaced later.
I was told it was good.
Name: Call me Noel.
Contacts: Can't really give these out much. Don't want to either.
Roleplaying Experience: A few years... Don't remember the exact time. A lot on Neopets, but on other sites. Just a little over a year with this character specifically.
Activity Level: I try to be on every day.
Favorite Book(s): Um... I like reading Warriors, and at this time, that is all I am reading, though I have many others.
The Character
Full Name: Kyle Mitchel Gertz
Nicknames: By good friends called Kylie, or Ky-Ky
Age: 30
Side: His with the police, always has been, always will be.
What are they? Regular human.
Powers: None.
Occupation: Police Officer. (I have no clue about rank. Normally he's chief, but not here.) He's a regular officer... Out on the streets all the time. Cause he likes it that way.
Appearance: He's a burly officer, tall at 6'6". Light blue eyes... Lighter than sky blue definitely. Black hair, not cut as short, messy a bit. He's pale, due to several long night shifts and sleeping during the day. Normally looks serious. Seems to always be wearing his police uniform, being seemingly obsessed with the job.
Personality:
Normally a serious 'Stick to the rules' guy. The officer does not let others get away with breaking the rules. If he can catch them. Used to giving the orders instead of taking them, though will follow directions. Just not happily. Can be nice, if one is nice to him. Likes animals for sure. Not trusting, but someone can gain his trust, after some work. He hates not knowing all of the information after he learns some.
Likes: Kyle likes many things. Children are one. His reasoning has not been explained, but the tough officer has a soft spot for little children. Ten and under. A bit older, and it's iffy. He also has a love for animals, as his dog was the only one there for him as a child. He likes his job. A lot. It makes him feel important, and worth something. Many other things, though I won't get into favorite foods and such.
Dislikes: Well, he dislikes, or more hates, abusers of any sort. Whether it be animal or child abusers. He doesn't like water, due to his father attempting to drown him several times. Spiders are also on the list, though his hating of them is not obvious, or explained. He also hates people feeling sorry for him and making a big deal of it. He doesn't like sharing his story anyways.
Strengths: Kyle is determined and loyal to his friends. Hating to break his promises, he is a trustworthy man. Strong naturally, and intelligent as well. Good with keeping his temper (Most of the time). He's friendly towards other officers, but not so much with the suspects.
Weaknesses: He's a bit obsessive over the job, bringing him to work longer hours. At times, he'll work himself too much. He is stubborn, as well as being a bit controlling at times. Too much. Often refuses to use his gun (Anti-violence sort of person) and gets himself hurt. He's got his thing with kids, and gets distracted by some smaller things at times. Doesn't quite share out ideas at first. Or anything for that matter. Keeps his feelings in him, finding they get in the way of work. He isn't trusting at first. Not fearful, just won't trust a person for a while. Tends to get a bit nosey. Too much it seems, and he annoys others with this. Especially when he gets himself involved with cases and such. Pain medications are not allowed to be given to him. Bad results come from it.
Fears: Sort of put in the dislikes section.
History: Kyle has not had the best life. His father was a normal police officer, till some accident seemed to change him a year after Kyle was born. He lost his job after becoming an alcoholic, becoming more violent toward Kyle's mother, and the child himself. The mother hardly came home, leaving Kyle alone. First violent act that Kyle remembered from his father was the drowning incident. The young three year old just taking a bath, his father came in. Must have been drunk, because right there he tried to hold Kyle under till he drowned. Failed that, he returned to the beatings. When Kyle was ten, having a three year old sister and a dog, his father killed his young sister, on his birthday. Kyle didn't tell a single person till after he moved out, and by the time he did, his father had seemingly vanished. Still now, Kyle hasn't come up with the confidence to find and arrest his father.
"Hey daddy!?" The young voice called from the other room, the small boy walking in, though almost with a little waddle. The three year old smiled, staring up at the large man who sat at the table. A bottle of foul smelling liquid in one hand, though the child knew nothing about what the substance was. The other was used to write out paperwork.
The young Kyle groaned, scrambling up onto his father's lap. He looked at the paper, and the odd lines, then at his father. The police officer gave an annoyed look, which worsened as the child started playing with his badge and the pieces on his uniform. Admiring how shiny the metal badge was, the boy was unaware of his dad's rising anger.
"Stop that!" The officer snapped, and Kyle jumped, falling to the side. He didn't understand it. He never did. Not yet at least. He knew nothing different, though it hurt. He started crying, and the man growled, picking him up off the ground. "I told you to go to bed!" He yelled in the young boy's face, the smell of his breath carrying the scent of alcohol. That substance. Kyle looked away, crying harder. He yelped, thrown back into his bed after being carried up the stairs.
"Daddy.... I-" He was cut off by the slamming of a door, locking him into the dark and scary room. He stared into the dark corners, shaking and shivering, imagining things. Things coming out. Things grabbing him. Trying. Attacking like his father, yet he didn't see the warning in these images he saw. As if he couldn't comprehend his own thoughts. He cried out, screaming in terror and pain.
The crying and screaming, it never ceased. Not at all through the night, but not a person even heard. Not a person but his father, who just fell asleep on the couch, turning the tv up to drown his son's cries out as he fell asleep.
He looked up, sitting in the bed, face in his small hands. He parted his fingers slightly, then lowered his hands. "Daddy..." He murmured. The man came forward, sitting on the bed beside Kyle. A new, friendly look came on his face, different from the night before. The boy smiled, looking at him. It dropped as his father's look turned harsh, and his large hands gripped the three year olds arms tightly.
"How many times do I have to tell you. Be quiet and let me sleep!" The man shouted in the child's face once more, and the boy nodded and whimpered. His father shook his head, tossing the boy to the ground and leaving the room with anger. Kyle sat up, crying, tears streaming down his face, his head hurting. He brought his hands over his head, shivering in fear. This hurt so bad... Why did it hurt so bad?
Two years past, and things got worse. The throwing continued, harsh spankings and slaps across the face added. The child started to learn to leave daddy alone. Not yet fully taught as much though.
The five year old came up the stairs, after having gotten a snack. He had been hungry, no big deal. He saw his father, standing at the top, and looked confused at him.
"What were you doing?" His father demanded. The man never used Kyle's name. Never. The boy didn't know why, he just didn't. He was always addressed as 'boy' or 'child' or other things... Including a 'worthless thing'.
"I... I was hungry daddy. I got something to eat..." The kindergartener explained, and the man's anger flared. That same scent from his breath that the boy had become used to smelling. That alcohol. It reached his nose again as he was grabbed by his shirt.
"I did not tell you that you could eat!" His father yelled, shoving him. The boy fell, tumbling down the stairs. He cried and whined, a terrified shriek as he was shoved, then silence as he hit the floor at the bottom of the steps.
He woke, in a white room, bright. This wasn't home... Home was dark. Home was scary. Home smelled like alcohol. Smelled like daddy. He looked around in awe and saw nobody. Nobody except his father, staring in anger. He gulped, waiting for the pain. It never came. He was surprised, but understood why as a man came in. A long white coat over him. The child looked at the male curiously, but didn't listen to the short conversation between his father and the man.
Things got worse, as they normally did. By the age of ten, Kyle was running into the backyard each night, hiding in a tree just to get away. Get away from those beatings. Get away from that man. He wasn't even Kyle's father anymore. At least, the boy didn't think so.
It just got worse, and worse.
By the age of fifteen, Kyle was a quiet boy. Only home to sleep, and slipping in and out his window every day. His father never looked for him, and he figured it best. He worked for the animal shelter. It took time, but he had finally pleaded enough. Pleaded enough to get paid, though giving no explanation as to why he wanted money.
He ate out a lot, though sometimes ran into his father coming home, who had started waiting on the porch for him. The man took the fifteen year old's money when it was found, and Kyle never fought back. Maybe because he was too week, or maybe just because he had never fought back before. Most likely the second, being that habits had been drilled into his mind at such a young age.
Tonight. This was the night. The night he fought back.
He walked up the driveway, to find his father there. Like normal. He refused. Refused to give the money. His father glared, and followed him into the kitchen.
"Give it to me now boy!" The man shouted. Kyle shook his head. His father glared, throwing a harsh punch at his son's face, hitting. Kyle groaned, bringing a hand to his face for a second. He glared in return.
"No! Not to you!" The teen shouted, and was startled and pained as he was shoved against the counter. He never had fought a thing in his life. He couldn't defend himself, even against his slightly shorter father. He just didn't know how. Moving out of the way as his father lunged again, though not expecting the next.
A sharp and terrible pain entering the right side of his chest, the terror filled shriek coming from him, the pain clouding his eyes. He could feel the blood, staining his shirt as his father yanked the large knife from him. He stared up at the man, the sickening look of amusement in the man's eyes fearing him. He collapsed then, everything around going black.
Two years passed after that night, and Kyle never fought his father again. After telling the doctors that they had been cooking, Kyle carrying the knife. Kyle tripped, sending the blade into his chest, hitting his face on the ground. Then his father flipped him over, and in a panic, pulled the knife out. A big, fat, lie. That was for sure.
He entered the home, after years of being away. The large home brought back so many memories. Pain filled nights, his father's screaming and hitting, drowning, falling from the stairs, his sister and dog dying after his birthday. He shook his head, attempting to shove the thoughts away. He had been in New York, working with the ASPCA. A bond with animals had brought him to love the job, connecting well with the abused and neglected animals. He had wanted more, and wanted to come back and arrest his father for what had been done. He had found that regular police work satisfied his wants better, felt better for him. After that, he had returned to Shawl.
Now, he was surprised to find the house empty. Completely. Cleared of all items, all furniture, everything except what was attached. It made no sense at first, his father having sworn never to leave the home. The officer searched, making sure that the man really was gone. He was, and a terrible feeling came through Kyle. This was not good. For him at least. Either his father was looking for him, or had gone missing, but either way Kyle wouldn't be able to rest well till that man was found and contained.
Never happened, yet. Kyle still couldn't find him, and that feeling never left. Fear, worry, and even dissapointment. He had been so set on getting his father to pay for his actions, and now it seemed that was an impossible task. He was probably dead, but the officer would never except the fact and relax until he saw the body for himself.
Education: Graduated highschool at a high level, going to the police academy after, sure that he wanted to at least be involved in law enforcement. Did well there too.
How does he fit?He's a police officer... Makes a lot of things his business.
Roleplay Sample:
The burly officer followed along, towards the back of the group and shivering slightly. Not because it was cold, he was sick, and was wearing short sleeves. No. He was afraid of his own nephew. Which was a lot, as Kyle was hardly ever afraid of anything. He made no sound, said no words. He felt no need. Nor did he want to speak.
Beside him, walked the large and still growing tiger. A strong creature, it walked with pride, it's large paws making hardly any sound on the floor as it walked. Striped tail swinging behindhi, purring lightly as Kyle's hand was set on him. The officer held no flashlight, using the glow from Lance and the tiger's movement to guide him. The animal's icy eyes watched the other guards. The large cat yawned, showing it's teeth, then returned to normal walking.
'I don't know why I'm coming...' He shook his head 'I should have stayed in my room... If I see anymore blood I think I'll throw up.' He kept his hand on Kiar, glad the white tiger was there. He was protection. Absiddy could not kill the feline, or hurt him as much as he had Mitchel. The police chief shook his head once more. 'Why am I so scared? I'm a cop... I shouldn't be...' He then remembered the scene from earlier. 'He'll eat me. That's why...' He groaned, then quieted the thoughts.
"Alright Absiddy..." He finally gained the courage to speak. "Ill ask you again. Please, explain yourself." He stared, trying to hide the fear that rose to a higher level as he spoke. This man was related to him, yet he was a killer. Killed to kill for all Kyle knew. No explanations given. Yet. He just hoped that the man would give him something here. Just one little bit at least.
Any last words? The roleplay sample may be replaced later.
I was told it was good.