Jensen Brown
Aug 7, 2010 20:59:31 GMT -5
Post by Jensen Brown on Aug 7, 2010 20:59:31 GMT -5
The easy S T U F F . . .Name: Jensen Lee Brown
Nickname: Jens, Lee
Age: Eighteen going on six
Member Group: Student
Power(s): Dimensional Storage
Play By: Corbin Bleu.Let it F L O W . . .Hey! What's up with the staring? Honestly, man, take a picture - it lasts way longer. How do I know? Well there was this one chick I saw back in fifth grade who was smokin'. Her name was Angela I guess and had come over from the high school to be Mr. Tarry's aide. My buddy Preston had this awesome antique camera he had brought in and was demonstrating how to use. He used Angela as his model and kept that picture for years. After Angela started using cocaine and, later, meth, that picture was still fabulous while she was totally craptastic.
Oh. You were just wondering how I got my afro this big? I dunno, it's just natural. It's kind of a pain, I've lost my best bookmark in it several times, but I like my hair. Anyway, uh, can I go back to writing this now? My English teacher gave us an assignment to describe ourselves in writing without just giving a list of brown curly hair, blue eyes, etc, so I'm trying hard to impress him. Plus I just like anything to do with reading and writing, so, here we go!
My friends like to call me Lee-roy Jensen (Leroy Jenkins), mainly because of that World of Warcraft video on youtube. You know, the one where the kid named Leroy Jenkins totally wrecked the party's chances of kicking Hive-butt? No? C'mon, you have to remember the ending where Leroy's all, "Hey, well at least I've got chicken!" Haha, man, that was hilarious. I'm like that kid in a way, I'm goofy and sorta spazzy, and, yes, I absolutely adore chicken. Especially BBQ chicken pizza. That stuff is the food of the gods, I tell you! I'm pretty social, apparently, since I hang out with my friends whenever I don't have my nose shoved into a good book. I'm easily persuaded, however, to go do something else if that something involves food, hot chickas, or my mates. I like making people happy because seeing people with smiles puts me into a better mood. I try to be cheerful and optimistic most of the time, but I do get down and upset. Since you aren't going to read this to the class, I hope!, I'll admit to having cried when my favorite characters died (Dumbledore and Sirius, nooo!) too. I get attached to things easily and tend towards a really cluttered room because of it.
On the total opposite end of the scale, I loathe having to sit still for long periods of time without something to occupy my thoughts. It's why I hate lectures and school assemblies, but enjoy movies and reading. Drunks kind of scare me because you never know what they're going to do next. Needless to say, I'm not really one for big parties with lots of booze. I don't like being around lots of authority figures for fear I might make some little infringement of the rules and get snarked at. If the people I'm with are my peers I get along with them perfectly. I'm not picky about my companions and get along with almost every one. High maintenance personalities are really the only thing, besides bullies, that get on my nerves. I can get rather confrontational when people are getting all up in my business, so I tend to avoid people like that rather than bite the bullet and stick around.
I guess I really haven't described what I look like, have I? I'm a ten foot tall alien with blue skin. I have a flattened cat-like nose, a tail, and glowing spots all over my skin. Jokes! I'm actually only about 5' 11", but I think I've grown a bit more since my pants have gotten awfully short. I kind of like shopping though, so I guess it's not exactly a bad thing. Still, my current clothes aren't all that old and I'd like to have used them a bit more. Anyway... I'm a typical African kid. My skins about the same color as coffee with a bit of creamer in it, which is just how I like my coffee, oddly enough, and my eyes are a dark brown. My dad always told me, "Your eyes are like two turds floating in a cesspool." I guess I picked up on his sense of humor because I use jokes like that all the time too. I just turned eighteen last month and because, yeah, I know I can hear you muttering, "Why is an eighteen year old still a junior?", I'll answer that soon. I've started to fill out from being all gangly in freshman and sophomore year, but I'm still not as ox-strong as my dad is. I have an eye for color and dress myself in flattering clothes, but I'm not fruity. Promise. Nicely shaped boobs and buttocks hold much more appeal to me than someone I can barely tell is male. I don't have any piercings or tattoos, not even scars really, but I did have braces in the sixth grade. That sucked hardcore, I missed gum and corn on the cob!
I was born about three hours from the Hammel Institute in a small town. Couldn't tell you the name of it since my family, that only consisted of me and my parents at the time, because a few months after my birth we moved to New York City. My dad had gotten a promotion, so my mom and I were relocated along with him to a nice sized apartment downtown. I grew up there in a school of over three and a half thousand kids. It was a public school, but pretty nice. I made quite a few friends there but they often transferred out into private schools when they got older. My parents firmly believed in not letting your children get an overinflated ego by sending them to some hoity-toity private institution so I was stuck there.
When I was five, my twin sisters Alia and Tori were born. If you haven't seen a picture of them, you should really let me show you. Dang, they are the prettiest little things you've ever seen. They look a lot like our mom and have dad's intelligence and common sense. It makes me really proud to see them hauling in straight-A report cards. I can't say the same for me because I tend to, ah, lose my homework. No, really! Back in my freshman I found I could open up this cool little drawer in my room that seemed to defy the logic of space. I could put things in there and retrieve them later at will! I even tried putting our pet cat in there once, but the drawer just spit him right back out again.
The bad thing was, I had to stand in the exact same spot as I was in when I put things in there otherwise I couldn't find them when I searched for my homework and books later. I still have trouble with it sometimes so I don't keep anything valuable in my storage. Because I could never find my papers to turn them in, my grades started to plummet. I told my parents I kept loosing my papers, but them buying me a binder did no good. I'd just put my binder into the drawer and eventually lose it too! The next year when I repeated my ninth year, I was much more careful with my drawer. I only opened it in my locker and that way I never lost too many things. I got better as the year went on, but never got anything higher than a B+. My parents were disappointed, but much relieved from last year.
Eventually during the end of my sophomore year one of my classmates caught me getting into my drawer to get my stuff. He didn't say anything, but eventually caught it on video and sent it in to the local news crew! I was an instant celebrity and the journalists wouldn't stop questioning me. Luckily for me, a recruiter for the Hammel Institute found out and got a hold of my parents. He explained that I could use a power called "Dimensional Storage" and was a meta-human. He talked about how the Hammel Institute was a school for meta-humans that allowed them to learn to better control the powers they wielded so that they could live a normal life without danger to themselves or others. My parents were skeptical about all of this and so they took me and my sisters to see the school.
My sisters were a little envious at first, but when they finally understood that this was more of a curse for me than a blessing they gave up trying to convince my parents to let me go too. I was enrolled at Hammel starting next month and, after a few strings being pulled by Hammel, I was finally left in peace about my mysterious storage space and everyone seemed to think the kid who had first spotted it had just played a big prank on everyone. Success! I'm looking forward to this new school, but it's a little bit unnerving to think about how much different it's going to be at a school where I don't have to hide my powers and will see others use theirs.
Since I think I've covered everything, I guess this is the end of my paper.
Peace -- Lee-roy JensenBehind the M A S K . . .Name: Argles or Argent
Age: Seventeen on Sept 1 :>
RP Experience: Crikeys, six years now! D: I feel old.
How did you find us?: Your ad on RPG-DShow your S K I L L S . . .--From the Sekkai Fractures topic "Dsiruptive Flying"
His echo vision rolled back to the Sekkain, his mouth slowly opening and his gums and lips curling away from his yellowed, stained teeth to reveal the many protrusions of serrated fangs. From the double row of frontal teeth to the wickedly jagged back teeth for shearing meat from the bone, it was a fearsome display of horrendous hate. In a way, Teivel almost looked pleased at the fire's ire and disgust. How he hoped that eventually he would be given a reason to tear him apart, flay his breast open, and present his still beating heart to Kreen. Of course he would be rather disappointed to give away such a prize to another dragon, but he supposed nothing but the very best would do for such a wonderful prize of a dragoness.
How odd a smile looked upon the smooth, alien head that beckoned to him. Her teeth glistened like a fine array of cut-throat razors, yet there was a wild sort of gleeful energy in that mad grin. There was nothing insincere about it as far as he could tell, but for a dragon without any eyes to misjudge lies for honesty was no hard feat. Still, thought Teivel, how could a similarly blind dragon learn how to conceal facial expressions when she couldn't see her own face? It was a brief paradox, but only that, as Teivel decided that surely she could not help but enjoy his haunting melody and courteous words. He, too, enjoyed music and would sometimes coerce Sekkains or other Taints to play well into the night for him until at last his troubled mind was at ease and his breaths came in loud, rumbling snores. Who, as well, could not help but feel flattered by warranted praise? Surely not a regal female who had just begun her maiden flight.
The male felt his millions of scales raise proudly into a rough ball of jagged edges as he basked in the praise of the temptress. So besotted was Teivel that he nearly missed the ragged, heavy beats of Corrioth's diseased wings and flattened his scales into tough, plated armor just in time to avoid the worst of the beast's heavy tail. Unable to contain himself, he vocalized a full-bodied snarl very much unlike his previously muted grumbles and whipped his quill covered head around for a retaliatory snap. Teivel was about to lunge after the slower moving Earth-mutation and blast those wings from his shoulders when his left wing tip was caught in the edges of a time-warped puddle. It flung him to the side, the Disruption working frantically to unravel the spell of Kreen's magic before he was flung completely around and had his own wing snapped. Thankfully, the puddle was small and muddled by the surrounding air, providing an easier to undo patch.
Teivel chimed at Kreen, a congratulatory sound of ringing church bells, exalting her masterful usage of Disruptions' elemental powers. He surged into the tide of chaos, echolocation going wild as he fought to keep the disrupted patches in his "sight". Weaving and ducking, twisting as only a Gravity-born Disruption could, the Tainted strove to make his meandering way through this field of hell born from Kreen's delight in making her males work to show their worthiness. Teivel excelled in finding holes in her net of chaos, creating space-warping wormholes to ferry him through the gaps that were to small for him to naturally fit through. In truth, his control over his element shook and threatened to escape from his iron will, but he arched his thick neck and tightened his grip around the slippery disruptive powers and forced them to his bidding. He burst out from the worm hole like a demon come straight out of the boiling brimstone belly of hell.
The hellion flared his monstrous wings and flew straight into the jet stream of chaos Kreen's own wings trailed. His own elemental control wrapped around the chaos, forming it to his own devices. It spiraled around his body, wrapping like tiny threads around his spined scales. He howled mournfully into the beginning of the stream, the noise twisting and contorting itself until it seemed a many-voiced, constantly screaming and moaning choir of the damned followed in his wake. It was eerie and he did nothing but add to it, mimicking noises as best he could and adding them to the distorted symphony of sounds. When he was completely done, the air groaned with the voices of countless sorrows, woes, misfortunes, and, layered over everything else, the screams and sobs of those in endless agony. It was beautiful in the same way an object used solely for killing way beautiful; a harsh embodiment of despair that one couldn't help but respect and find oddly lovely. It would take one with a blackened soul to find it beautiful, but Teivel had no doubt that the vast majority of those found in these bleak lands would appreciate it.
