Post by Deleted on Feb 9, 2015 23:21:43 GMT -5
Full Name:Troy Stanley Baratheon
Nickname/Alias: N/A
Age/Date Of Birth: 29, December 16th
Race: Human
Occupation: Hunter
Species Group: Hunter
Play-By: Paul Wesley
Special Inventory
Special items that are bought from the store will go here.
Likes (At Least 3):
❤ Things that make him laugh
❤ Whiskey sours
❤ The Guild
❤ Running
Dislikes (At Least 3):
✗ The supernatural
✗ Horror flicks
✗ Cats
✗ Unnecessary violence
Fears (At Least 2):
☬ Dillon, Jade, Kennedy, or Megan getting hurt due to his lack of protection
☬ Somehow falling back into his old routine of gang life
Goals (At Least 1):
★ To protect his family and others from any harm that may come to them
Personality: Troy is loyal down to the core, and gets attached very easily to his friends. It stems from a childhood of not having a family or a place, or anything to really call his own. So, when he meets someone and they click, he immediately feels the need to protect the bond they have. He isn't very affectionate on the surface, saving those moments for a very select few, but his emotions do run deep below. Feeling as if he lived his life in a war zone, Troy does everything he can now to avoid conflict, though he isn't the type to allow anyone to push him around. He stands up for himself, and his friends, but he's diplomatic about it. His temper has always been something that he's had to work on keeping in check, but he does work hard to talk things out over any other form of fighting.
In some ways he can seem cold, or nonreactive, like he doesn't care, or can't be bothered by things. Though that is rarely the case. Troy wants to be the bigger man and let things go, realizing how stupid fighting is a lot of the time. He naturally feels like a leader in many situations, thinking that he's led quite a diverse life so far. In general, Troy can come off as a tad bit intimidating if you're a new face to him. But the side that his friends get to see is a kind man, someone who likes to laugh, a guy that could probably eat a whole pizza by himself, party, and then get up at 6am the next morning to go for a 7 mile run
Traits
✧ Leader
✧ Fair
✧ Brave
Negatives (At Least 3):
✦ Bossy
✦ Can come off as cold or stuck up to those he's not familiar with
✦ Blase
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Parents: Kyla Vermeer (mother) and Gig Baratheon (father)
Siblings: Does your character have any brothers or sisters?
Other Family:Timothy Avaden (half-brother, same mother, 17, has never met Troy)
Important Others: Steve and Laura Coleman, and Dillon, Jade, Kennedy, and Megan
History: The only reason Kyla Vermeer didn't abort Troy the second she found out she was pregnant was because she wanted his father, Gig, to stay. Which, really didn't work. Born to a poor, dysfunctional mother, and a father that was never really with his mother to begin with, things weren't so great. Kyla and Gig fought constantly about this woman, or that girl he was supposedly seeing on the side, about how little he took care of his own son, and how he would rather spend his money tweaking out on drugs than buying diapers. By the time Troy was 5, his father had been long gone, and his mother had developed a taste for drugs. He walked to school everyday, seeing men getting beaten up in gangs on the streets, needles, tweakers, and woman being harassed by groups daily. It was what he was used to, who he became over time.
It wasn't uncommon for his mom to come home with different men every night, and they moved quite often. Whoever she was with that week, whoever she called boyfriend for a few days, they lived there. Troy never had one set home. As he went through middle school, he became more aware of the differences between his poorness and the riches that everyone else seemed to have. The people that he became friends with were like him too; young, clueless, secretly smoking cigarettes outside during lunch. Inevitably he ended up joining a gang called the Los Rubios when he was 14, just a couple months into high school. Initiation into the gang was intense. He was beaten up by several older, long time members, and then he had to get this tattooed onto his left hand.
By the time he was 15 he'd dropped out of high school, started carrying illegal weapons on him at all times, been in over 100 fights, and had multiple run ins with the police. Though, his mom never really cared enough to stop screwing whoever she was with that day to stop and try to get him back on the right path, and being some poor boy from the ghetto he wasn't important enough to society for social services to get involved. For a year or so he went along with Los Rubios, doing whatever they did. He was a part of the gang family, and that meant whatever pissed them off pissed him off. One evening he and a few gang members were involved in a particularly bad shoot off/fight, and he ended up getting grazed by a bullet on the arm. It was nothing bad, of course, but when the police jumped in to stop the fight they ended up taking him into custody and to the hospital to get all stitched up.
Ended up at the Coleman's house because it was s sort of halfway house for teens and it was that or juvenile hall. He was is constant battle with them when he first came to the house. Angry, unsure, always living with one foot out the door, waiting for the perfect moment to run away because he knew nothing different that the struggle of street life. But the Coleman's changed that. He gave them nothing, and they loved him, always forgiving his cruel words. Making friends was hard for him at first, since Troy was used to having to always watch his own back, but Kennedy, Dillon, Jade, and Megan all became like the family he'd never had. And the Coleman's were the parents he'd always wanted. Troy took on the role of the older, rougher big brother because he'd had a tough upbringing and an intense desire to protect the people he cared about. He was loyal down to the last drop.
The Coleman's helped him get his GED, helped him get his life back on track, and even get accepted into college where he started taking classes on the path to a degree in law. One evening when Dillon, Jade, Megan, and Kennedy were all out listening to Megan sing at the local coffee shop, and it was all fun. On their way home, a wild, vicious dog appeared out of nowhere and before anyone could react, it bit Dillon. And then Kennedy pulled a knife and killed the beast quickly, like a pro. She then explained to them that she was a hunter and a little bit about the supernatural, and Troy was interested. Actually, they were all interested. So while going to college, he also was taught about hunting by Kennedy, practicing with their little group regularly. It was obvious that this was what they were all passionate about, so the group all saved up their money and bought an RV, decked it out for hunting, and started out on the road to hunt whatever came their way.
Alias: Sofie
How did you find us?: The old site
Experience: Years
Other Characters: @asmodeus, @allocer, @hadley, @valentine, Cole, @solveigh, @arie
RP Sample:
Some nights were impossible, and this was one of them. Remy was tired, and annoyed at nearly everyone that entered the club. It seemed like every little girl was up here trying to get the boys at the bar to give her a free drink and the men were no better. They swaggered up to the bar like they were the toughest boys on the block and started calling her ‘baby’ and ‘honey’, like they had a chance at getting it in with her. Not all of them were ugly, or entirely unattractive, but she preferred her men to be a little more composed. Remy was working a double shift because some asshole couldn’t be bothered to show up to his shift, and that just added to her anger. Who did that? A person that ditched work deserved to be fired, and Remy seriously hoped he did. She hated wishing bad things on other people, but wouldn’t be terribly upset if the guy got fired. This wasn’t some child’s play job, and despite the looks she received when she told people that she was a bartender, you had to know your shit. There were hundreds of varieties of drinks to have to memorize, and the more drinks you made the better you became at it. The more you knew the drink, the faster you could mix it up, and that led to a larger tip. No one wants to wait for their drinks.
All those little flips you could do with the bottle, those came with due time. Remy could do about half as many tricks as everyone else, and that caused her to feel nothing short of utter humiliation. She had a need to be better, a need to be the best. And a realization that her bottle flipping skills couldn’t compare to those of the more experienced, older bartenders. The basic flips and easy little spins on her heels she had down, but ask her to do anything else and there’d be shattered glass all over the floor. Remy hated it, and the envy she felt when people clapped and cheered for the other bartenders was at an all time high tonight. Stupid Davis was showing off for some brunette with legs ten miles long and a tan so dark that you could practically smell the tanning lotion coming off.
Rolling her eyes, Remy poured a couple shots of tequila for a lady and then went back to wiping down the counter and making sure all the bottles were clean and full. This was the boring part of her job, wiping down bottle after bottle. Couldn’t have a single sticky one, or a half empty one, or anything that looked messy and in disarray. So she wiped and straightened and poured drinks and kept looking at the clock every five seconds, wanting her shift to be over already. Remy yawned and looked over at Jeremy, he was still flipping bottles. She furrowed her eyebrows and scrubbed the counter a little harder. Just as she was about to yawn again, like they’d sensed that she was bored and on cue started up, two obviously drunk guys started yelling at each other. That really wasn’t anything new, yelled and fought around here all the time. You called over the bouncer, or security, and that was that. But this time was different, much to her entertainment. These guys were big, drunk, loud, and they’d started to throw punches. So a couple random people tried to step in and be heroes, and they ended up getting sucked into the fight too.
Oh man, was this good. But she had to step in, now it was getting serious. There were multiple security guards rushing around, trying to pry the fighting people apart. She could hear their panicked voices on their walkie-talkies, and that was enough for her to understand that this was big. There usually weren’t massive fights like this, at least not that she’d seen. But she’d only been there a couple of months, so maybe this was a common thing. Either way, Remy stepped in. Not that it was really her place, but she didn’t want anyone to actually get kill tonight. Moving quickly around the counter, she pushed her way through the thick crowd and grabbed the back of some guy’s shirt. Yanking him back roughly, the man whirled around, slapping her arms away. He looked like he was about to hit her, and she braced herself for it. But he didn’t, and instead just stormed off, shoving his way through the mass of people.
Adrenaline pumping through her veins, heart thudding loudly in her chest, Remy moved in on another guy. This guy was actually bleeding, all over. Blood ran down out of his nose, over his lips, onto his shirt, and onto the ground. Remy grabbed him by the arm, and at first he pulled away. But she tugged him on until he followed her over to the bar and sat on one of the stools. Remy leaned over and grabbed a few paper towels, then handed them to the guy. He didn’t need to be bleeding all over everyone over there, it was gross and messy and not okay. The guy tried saying something, but he was way too drunk for it to actually make any sense. Remy just pushed more paper towels towards him and tried to keep an eye on the fight still happening. While security had managed to clear up a huge chunk of the fighting people, some die-hard fighters were still going at it.
Behind her a man started yelling, but she didn’t think anything of it until she was sandwiched between two screaming men. What were they yelling about? Remy didn’t have the slightest clue. All she knew was that the bleeding guy was standing up, tossing the paper towels to the side and grabbing for the other man. That was it. Remy put both her arms out, shoving them both apart as much as she could. But she wasn’t anything special, and the men easily pushed right back. If there was something she hated above all other things, it was getting pushed around. In a furious moment, Remy turned and shoved the bloody-nose guy down onto the stool. “Just sit down!” She yelled, her voice holding enough of a demanding tone that he listened. Spinning around to the other man she pushed him back with both hands this time, so it sent him reeling backwards. Remy almost ordered him to leave, but she couldn’t think of any clever way to put it. People in movies always had the coolest catch phrases, yet she couldn’t think of a single one. Security stepped in before she really had a chance to say anything, and led both men out.
Remy bit her lip, watching the crowd slowly disperse. So she’d wanted exciting, but maybe next time she’d try for a little less exciting.
All those little flips you could do with the bottle, those came with due time. Remy could do about half as many tricks as everyone else, and that caused her to feel nothing short of utter humiliation. She had a need to be better, a need to be the best. And a realization that her bottle flipping skills couldn’t compare to those of the more experienced, older bartenders. The basic flips and easy little spins on her heels she had down, but ask her to do anything else and there’d be shattered glass all over the floor. Remy hated it, and the envy she felt when people clapped and cheered for the other bartenders was at an all time high tonight. Stupid Davis was showing off for some brunette with legs ten miles long and a tan so dark that you could practically smell the tanning lotion coming off.
Rolling her eyes, Remy poured a couple shots of tequila for a lady and then went back to wiping down the counter and making sure all the bottles were clean and full. This was the boring part of her job, wiping down bottle after bottle. Couldn’t have a single sticky one, or a half empty one, or anything that looked messy and in disarray. So she wiped and straightened and poured drinks and kept looking at the clock every five seconds, wanting her shift to be over already. Remy yawned and looked over at Jeremy, he was still flipping bottles. She furrowed her eyebrows and scrubbed the counter a little harder. Just as she was about to yawn again, like they’d sensed that she was bored and on cue started up, two obviously drunk guys started yelling at each other. That really wasn’t anything new, yelled and fought around here all the time. You called over the bouncer, or security, and that was that. But this time was different, much to her entertainment. These guys were big, drunk, loud, and they’d started to throw punches. So a couple random people tried to step in and be heroes, and they ended up getting sucked into the fight too.
Oh man, was this good. But she had to step in, now it was getting serious. There were multiple security guards rushing around, trying to pry the fighting people apart. She could hear their panicked voices on their walkie-talkies, and that was enough for her to understand that this was big. There usually weren’t massive fights like this, at least not that she’d seen. But she’d only been there a couple of months, so maybe this was a common thing. Either way, Remy stepped in. Not that it was really her place, but she didn’t want anyone to actually get kill tonight. Moving quickly around the counter, she pushed her way through the thick crowd and grabbed the back of some guy’s shirt. Yanking him back roughly, the man whirled around, slapping her arms away. He looked like he was about to hit her, and she braced herself for it. But he didn’t, and instead just stormed off, shoving his way through the mass of people.
Adrenaline pumping through her veins, heart thudding loudly in her chest, Remy moved in on another guy. This guy was actually bleeding, all over. Blood ran down out of his nose, over his lips, onto his shirt, and onto the ground. Remy grabbed him by the arm, and at first he pulled away. But she tugged him on until he followed her over to the bar and sat on one of the stools. Remy leaned over and grabbed a few paper towels, then handed them to the guy. He didn’t need to be bleeding all over everyone over there, it was gross and messy and not okay. The guy tried saying something, but he was way too drunk for it to actually make any sense. Remy just pushed more paper towels towards him and tried to keep an eye on the fight still happening. While security had managed to clear up a huge chunk of the fighting people, some die-hard fighters were still going at it.
Behind her a man started yelling, but she didn’t think anything of it until she was sandwiched between two screaming men. What were they yelling about? Remy didn’t have the slightest clue. All she knew was that the bleeding guy was standing up, tossing the paper towels to the side and grabbing for the other man. That was it. Remy put both her arms out, shoving them both apart as much as she could. But she wasn’t anything special, and the men easily pushed right back. If there was something she hated above all other things, it was getting pushed around. In a furious moment, Remy turned and shoved the bloody-nose guy down onto the stool. “Just sit down!” She yelled, her voice holding enough of a demanding tone that he listened. Spinning around to the other man she pushed him back with both hands this time, so it sent him reeling backwards. Remy almost ordered him to leave, but she couldn’t think of any clever way to put it. People in movies always had the coolest catch phrases, yet she couldn’t think of a single one. Security stepped in before she really had a chance to say anything, and led both men out.
Remy bit her lip, watching the crowd slowly disperse. So she’d wanted exciting, but maybe next time she’d try for a little less exciting.
I (Troy) have read the site rules and understand them. The code word for the rules is: (batman)
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Application Created By Hell Hound
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