Post by Charles Peter Richardson on Jul 20, 2010 20:04:50 GMT -5
Full name: Charles Peter Richardson
Age: Seventeen
Birthday: May 15th, 1993
Original or Canon?: Canon
Face Claim: Tyler Kyte
Why You are here: Uncontrollable anger, when his mother took out her anger on him instead of his father, he burnt down his bedroom. Strike one. Next he yelled at a teacher when they refused to regrade his paper, he got in school suspension. The final straw was when he pushed his sister into a wall and was screaming at her after she pointed out he was adopted and he wasn’t, and started saying their parents loved him more.
Riding Experience: Beginner
Riding Interest: Cross Country
Favorite Breed: doesn’t care, doesn’t want to be here.
Appearance: Charles is somebody, that thinks he is very attractive, while some girls won’t argue, other seem outraged at this thought. He is tall, he stands at about six foot, two inches. This height sends him towering over most people, but others he is just right at. He knows he is tall, but most girls want a guy taller than them don’t they? He is slim for his age, but has muscle enough to punch through a wall, something he enjoys doing to release his anger. He has slim muscles, but don’t challenge their strength. He only weighs in at a hundred and fifty-two pounds. This is because he runs a lot to keep his weight down and to try to control his anger as his therapist suggested.
His hair is often brushed whatever way it will go, he doesn’t specify what style his hair it. It’s long, mostly so that if he is doing drugs or something he can easily brush it in front of his eyes and nobody can tell. He has a tan hint to his skin, he isn’t a surfer guy, dedicating every second of his life to getting a nice bronze color is something Charles wouldn’t ever do.
His clothes are just what he grabs. He doesn’t really care what he wears, something off the floor that looks decent. Usually it’s a pair of dark jeans and an average t-shirt. He doesn’t really mind if everything looks like he put no effort into it, he didn’t.
His arms and hands have a lot of scars on them, they are all self-inflicted. For whenever Charlie is really stressed out, that happens frequently, he decides he can do one of two things. He can either chose to cut himself and watch the blood drip out of him along with stress. Or he can distract himself with a different type of pain as he burns himself. He mostly choses to burn himself, because he has discovered those wounds heal faster and are easier to make a story up to cover them up.
Likes:(at least three)
- music
- fire
- screming
- singing
- talking to things that can’t respond
- punching walls
- running
- smoking
- drinking
Dislikes:(at least three)
- sluts
- hard-core drugs
- bright colors
- people who can’t sing
- rules
- family
- l-o-v-e
- lonliness
- abuse
Personality Traits:
Rage. Charlie has a lot of rage, he takes his anger out on stuff. He can’t really control his anger very well. His therapist suggested him to go anger management classes, but he isn’t willing to admit he has a problem. He often will yell at people that get in his way if he is mad. He is easy to set off too, so you don’t want to mess with him too much.
Flirty. Many girls notice how flirty Charlie is. He will flirt with just about any girl that stands in his path. Some girls find this annoying, and some girls just want to get laid. Although he has had sex a few times, he isn’t about to do it with anybody. Although he will flirt, and he will go out with just about any girl, he only has sex in relationships that he actually believes will go somewhere.
Lovey Dove. Some girls wouldn’t expect this of somebody filled with rage, but when he wants to impress a girl, Charlie is a sweetheart. He can virtually charm any girl. He isn’t afraid of showing his emotions by being sweet. He is a sweet guy when he isn’t mad about something.
Calm. It is hard to find a calm Charles, but when you do, it’s probably because he has done something he wasn’t supposed to. He is usually calmest after he gets his hands on a cigarette. Although he doesn’t like to believe he is addicted to them, he is. He is most calm the last ten minutes after he smoked a cigarette, and although he isn’t a major drug kind of person, when he does, he usually enjoys doing it with company and is usually pretty calm afterward.
Depressed. Usually when you see Charlie you will notice he is pretty depressed. Very rarely will you catch a smile on his face, for he isn’t happy. He rather be dead that stuck here till he graduates. He wants to get out, but feels trapped. He is alone and scared.
Party-Boy. Although you might not see it very often, when Charlie comes out of his shell, he is somebody who wants nothing more than fun. He will do anything he wouldn’t normally do, this includes just about everything. He lost his virginity when his party-boy attitude came out. He is a lot of fun when he is in this mood. He will do whatever anybody offers him. This includes sex, drugs, alcohol, absolutely everything.
Moody. Most people are a little moody. But none quite as much as Charles’ you can set him off by simply mispronouncing his name. This might have been caused by him and his many years of not getting the attention somebody needs in order to grow emotionally, but whatever it was, he scarred him. He is now somebody that you can’t mess with. If you way the wrong thing, you may end up with a black eye or shoved half way into a wall.
Aggressive. Although he isn’t normally aggressive to those who don’t deserve it, he has his days. He has his days when he is an aggressive jerk. Normally, he wouldn’t ever hit a girl, but when he has his “guy PMS” he can be the worst jerk in the world. If somebody really pisses him off, he could quite literally kill somebody. He has gotten close before, but it wasn’t documented.
Happy. Every once in a while, Charlie can be genuinely happy. He can be the type of guy that is really happy and be the best person. He is somebody who wants to go to the fair and just have fun, not drunk sex, fun. He is that great guy that people want to get to know, when somebody meets him on one of these days, they usually want to be friends with him, and they meet him the next and it could be the same happy guy, or somebody who is about to punch their face in. Don’t be deceived if you see a happy guy.
Lonely. Charles is really lonely. He is a jerk and after moving here, his attitude never changed of just wanting to get out of here. Sure he flirts, but he hasn’t been able to find anybody to talk to or hang out with. He is alone and he hates it. If managing his anger means he will get somebody to talk to, he would be happy. He just wants one person to talk with.
Family Tree:
- Father: Michael Tyler Richardson • 49 • accountant
- Mother: Sara Mari Richardson • 46 • veterinary assistant
- Siblings: Michelle Mari Richardson • 12 • none
- Other: Mary Anne Sullivan (aunt) • 36 • Pediatrician
Hometown: Harrisburg, Oregon
History : Charlie never had the perfect life. He was born into a family that never wanted him. His was born on a warm May evening in the bed of his 15 year old mother. His father wasn’t anywhere to be seen. His father had been a rapist and Charlie was the product of that happening. His mother didn’t think she could take care of him, and was considering adoption until she held him in her arms. She held him, waiting for the doctors to arrive as he sat there in her arms, not breathing. He was in her arms for five minutes until the doctors showed up and gave him life. His mother never wanted to get rid of her wonderful son.
That feeling stayed forever with his mother, but his grandfather had a different feeling of the child. Not supporting his daughter’s decision to keep the child opposed to abortion or adoption. As Charlie’s mother would come home from school and rush off to work, leaving her father to babysit, she had no clue what was going on. Charles’ grandfather would beat him. If Charlie cried or whined or through his toy, his grandfather would often throw him up in the air and drop him if Charlie frustrated him.
When he was only a few months old, Charlie was covered with bruises. His mother, to arrogant to admit it had been her father, took Charles to countless doctor appointments. They all said the same thing, abuse. Finally, while his mother was at work, child protection services showed up at his house. They knocked on the door to see Charlie crying on the floor and his grandfather in the kitchen drinking a beer. They didn’t stop for a second when they walked in and pulled Charles out of the house, put him in the booster seat of a car and drove off. Charley was six months old when he was taken from his mother.
He spent the next four and a half years in foster care. He couldn’t ever keep a family, he went through six foster families in four and a half years. Finally, when he was five, a family adopted him. They had a young daughter and were looking for a young child to be a companion to her, so they adopted Charlie. While he CPS was glad to see him get a family, nobody knew exactly what would happen. The family favored their daughter, most would, knowing that Michelle was formed from their own flesh and blood while Charlie was a mistake, who in some people’s eyes, was never meant to happen.
People who knew how he was treated, would say neglect. While outsiders saw the perfect family, they never acted out of place in public. In all honesty, Charlie was quite like a slave to them. He cleaned the dishes, took care of their daughter, and was meant to be the golden child. While he was in school they made sure he had all his homework done and was all well behaved. It was almost as if he had gotten past his past. Then, something happened that nobody could stop. One day Michael was upset from a day of work, and after many years of treating his son lesser than his daughter, he took his anger out on his son. He pushed Charlie up against a wall, and it set a spark on his fuse that had been burning for so long. Charles blew up.
Ever since, Charlie has not been the same. In middle school he got in trouble and expelled his freshman year for bullying. He was like a time bomb, and every time it went off, he would just reset himself. Every time, the bomb would reset itself for less time. Pretty soon everyday he was blowing up. One day after his mother yelled at him about her day, he got mad. Going into the room to intentionally burn himself, he decided to light the room on fire. His family sent him to a 6 week counseling camp. The camp required him to interact with people and express his feelings in a nonviolent, non-harmful way. He graduated early because the camp decided him to be ready to reunite with the real world.
Only two weeks afterward, Charlie got a bad grade on a research project. A project he had dedicated two weeks of his life toward. He had asked the teacher to reconsider his grade, but they wouldn’t. So he blew up, he got in the teachers face and was yelling at him until the next class came in. He had to be escorted off school property and was sent to in school suspension. It was suggested he go see a therapist more often. His family listened, and he went to see the therapist four times a week instead of two. He was also required to see the school counselor for two months.
By then, he wanted out. He wanted to get out of the hell hold his parents had him in. He was tired of being treated like this, and they had already proved to him that they would rather send him away then keep him there and deal with him. He decided to get out, and he knew out to get out. He had to do the one thing they wouldn’t put up with, he had to mess with their daughter. She made it too easy for him when she pointed out to him one day that she was more loved. He snapped, he already knew he wasn’t loved, but he didn’t need it to be pointed out at him. He pushed her into a wall and caused her a concussion with the force involved. He started screaming at her and pushing her further into the wall, then he pulled her out and pushed her on the ground. He called her a little whore and walked off, took his parents’ car and drove off. The next morning, when he came home after a night at a friend’s smoking weed and drinking, his parents showed him the brochure to Willow Brooke. They had already made the decision he would go there, responsibility would be good for him they said.
All he thought was if he couldn’t even take care of himself, how could he manage a horse? He knew there was no way in hell he would be able to take care of a horse. He really didn’t want to be in a place where he would be forced to work with a huge beast, but it was better than where he was now. He decided to go with it. He knew he could get kicked out of there if he needed to and sent somewhere else.
Nickname: Venus
Age: 15
Years of RP Experience: 3
Other Characters: N/A
RP Sample:
Vanessa had always been the perfect child. She knew it all too well, she was the perfect little child that her parents always cherished and everybody was always looking out for. She used and abused the fact that her parents had money. She took advantage of it like a child takes advantage of a gift card to the candy shop. If somebody caught her in the bleacher’s smoking something her parents’ wouldn’t approve of, she would give them a hundred and tell her parents she spent it on clothes. They would simply tell their parents they saw her at a study group with some friends at dairy queen. Her parents always bought that type of stuff.
This problem wasn’t something she could pay somebody off with though. This was something she was probably going to have to confront her parents with. She would have to tell them, and she would be all alone. Something she had always been scared of. She hated being alone. Being alone against her parents would be the worst, she had led them for so long to believe she was perfect, and now she would have to tell them the truth. That she had made a mistake and that she wanted to do something they wouldn’t approve of. She had asked her mom before, what would happen if she were to be pregnant, her mother insisted she would get an abortion and nothing else would come from it. Nobody in the town would know their quite little secret, it would be just a small secret and everybody would go on their lives as if nothing happened.
Now, as she held the pregnancy test in her hand, she wasn’t sure she would be able to do that. This was her mistake, and she couldn’t just get rid of it and pretend it never happened. Even if the baby had only been inside her for a month, or maybe only a few weeks, she wanted to keep it. She knew at seventeen she probably wouldn’t be capable of caring for a child. Not alone, she didn’t even know who the father of the child would be. But she couldn’t just the kill the thing inside of her like nothing mattered.
She wiped her eyes as the word on the test became blurred. Even blurred, she could tell it clearly read Pregnant. There was no denying it now. She knew it had to be one of four men. She had only slept with four men since her last period. It had to be one of them, if it was Joe, he wouldn’t care, and maybe Deven would support her. Kevin definitely wouldn’t, he was more interested in the drugs then the sex, and he hadn’t ever been in a relationship for as much as she knew. Now, Josh, he would definitely support her, maybe she should just tell him it was his and he would believe her and support her through this. But what if the baby didn’t look like him?
She sat on her toilet crying. She put the pregnancy test back in the box. She might need it depending on which guy she decided to tell was his. She slowly got up off her toilet, walking into her room. It was huge, but she felt like she didn’t deserve it. She took the box and put it in her underwear drawer, burying it in her hundreds of thongs. She wept back over to her king sized bed that was dwarfed in the size of her room. So many memories here, but right now they all haunted her. Then it was just fun and games, she didn’t think any of that kind of stuff could happen to her. She wouldn’t ever get an STD. She was too smart to get pregnant, the pregnancy test hiding in her dresser said otherwise.
As she sat on her bed she wished she had somebody to talk to about this. She had been such a bitch in her recent years, she had lost all friends she could talk to. She only had maybe three friends, they were all guys. All of which, were friends because of two things, sex and drugs. They gave her drugs, she gave them sex. None of them she could talk to about anything like this. She couldn’t talk about it to anybody, she was scared and alone. She broke down in tears, crying, trying to figure out who she could tell and if her parents’ were one of them. Her thoughts came to a sudden halt when she a heard a knock on the door. “Just a minute,” she yelled as she ran over to her mirror and tried to take a deep breath. “What’s going on?” Her mother’s voice rang through the door. Crap.
