n o r m a l • literate • a c c e p t i n g

[arte]

[Ok, working on my form now....]

[diamonds;;]

[[ I will be changing my name to .imagination. just so you know ]]

[Noel]

((Working on form now! This looks interesting, and I will use a male character.
I hate to ask, but can somebody type up the form with normal letters? I have a mental thing, which I will not name, for identity secrecy, but I really can't read it. A friend of mine volunteered to help me with that. Thank you Kirou.))

[diamonds;;]

[[ sorry, but you don't seem literate enough for this role-play. i'm very sorry. however, if you dissagree with this, please send me a writing sample of yours ]]

[Noel]

[[ sorry, but you don't seem literate enough for this role-play. i'm very sorry. however, if you dissagree with this, please send me a writing sample of yours ]]

((I disagree, and I sent a P.M.))

((Edit: Thank you. I'll have the form up soon enough.))

[.kestral]

(Hello
First off I apologise for how yucky this post is. My is currently having issues and I have to post this on my iPod. I am very interested in joining this roleplay and should be able to write up a form later, I have managed to borrow my brother laptop (well in a bit anyway) but I am worried as some of my posts won't be formatted until I sort out this computer issue. Until then is there anyone who I can pm my posts to who would be willing to add all the size, colour ect formatting things to my posts and then would pm them back to me?)

[diamonds;;]

[[ I will, but I gtg at the moment xD ]]

[Noel]

((Sorry it took so long.))

Skye Kuronai

I’ll edit a picture in, once I find a good one.

ғʋℓℓ ∂ɛƨcяιρтισи::
Skye looks his age(fifteen), he hardly appears much older or younger than what one would expect. Light brown, poorly cut, and somewhat long for a boy hair constantly gets in his face. When it gets particularly annoying, he ties it back in an inch long ponytail. His hair stands out being a shade or two lighter than his skin, but as this is hardly a very unnatural feature, he isn’t bothered much about it. He has an average height for his age, although for various reasons he weighs less than what would be considered average. His eyes are hardly intimidating: a light, cheery looking green. He never turned toward body modifications, all he has in the way of distinctive features is one, small scar above his left eye. His vision is above average, but only in the right eye, which occasionally gives him headaches but nothing more serious. His fingers are constantly moving, whether picking a lock, tapping a desk, throwing a rock, tying shoes, etc. He has long legs, to some extent, which gave him ability to run, making up for a build that couldn’t fight no matter how much it wanted to. Skye is never seen still, he’s always kicking up dirt, smiling happily at nothing in particular, or running as if the apocalypse is on his trail. To a passerby, he gives the appearance of happy, somewhat hyperactive, child who’s different in ways that can’t quite be pinned down.

|| ιмρσятαит ιиғσ ||

иαмɛ:: Skye Kuronai (Koo-row-nye[rhymes with eye])
иιcκиαмɛƨ:: He doesn’t have any, and doesn’t like when people give him one.
αɢɛ:: Fifteen, near sixteen
∂αтɛ σғ вιятн:: November 28th, Nineteen ninety five
вιятнρℓαcɛ:: Europe. He rarely gives out more than that.
σccʋραтισи:: Due to his age, he rarely did more than various odd-jobs. Occasionally his inner kleptomaniac gave him some windfall.
яαcɛ:: Italian (No, he does not have an accent.)
ɢɛи∂ɛя:: Male
∂ιƨσя∂ɛяƨ:: ADD. He can’t remain focused, and probably never will. He’s not hyperactive; he merely has to do something with his hands near constantly.
мʋтαтισи:: He can read minds, almost perfectly, of anyone with thirty feet or so. If he really tries, he can ever more or less take control of the movements of his selected victim. He cannot chose whether or not he hears the thoughts though. Anyone near him is an open book. If he’s in a crowd, the constant flow of thoughts and emotions is completely overwhelming. Often he gets his own thoughts mixed up with those of others. To him, it’s like having someone, or multiple people all at once, talking on a telephone to him in his head, constantly. To top it off, controlling movement nearly completely drains him, and during the time of controlling, he hears everything. Emotions, urges, even the tiniest little idea. Mixed with his own, usually he enters a state of near-insanity. To put it lightly, he avoids crowds, and almost never tries to control anyone.

нιƨтσяʏ:: His first ten years or so are a painful blur. At age nine, he had brain surgery to clear up a blocked artery. Halfway through, something slipped, and his brain was nearly cut up and little Skye nearly died of blood loss. He made it, but, while the surgery was technically successful, he first conscious thoughts weren’t his own. The shock of suddenly having several minds in his head drove him near crazy. He was believed to have turned insane by those around him, and the shock rendered him unable to walk. About two and a half years later, he mostly recovered, he could once again stand and move, and he wasn’t constantly babbling nonsense. He was finally moved out of the ‘loony-bin’ and back to his one surviving parent’s home, who wasn’t happy to see him. Already having money-trouble, Skye no longer being fed by the charity-run hospital was a bad blow. He quickly started finding income, despite the obvious challenges of finding work being a child less than a year out of the insanity ward. No one believed him about him reading minds, and once he completely regained his senses he was grateful for that. Bets and gambling was almost child's’ play to him. He stole as well, but always had enough pocket money that he didn’t need to do this often. Sadly, at early fifteen he passed out when he got trapped in a crowd, utterly overwhelmed by the various thoughts. His mother used this as an opportunity to say he still needed medical help. Instead, someone finally put together that Skye wasn’t crazy, and thus he wound up facing Barretta’s school for the Gifted.

|| яɛℓαтισиƨнιρƨ ||

мσтнɛя'ƨ иαмɛ:: Lucia
ғαтнɛя'ƨ иαмɛ:: Dead, but was named Lucas.
ƨιвℓιиɢƨ:: A older sibling who moved off to Canada, a twenty-one year old woman named Mila.
∂ιƨтαит κιи:: His mother was an only child, and he never met her parents. He has a few cousins on his father’s side, all of whom are over twenty. Both grandparents on his father’s side are dead.
cяʋƨн:: None yet.
вσʏғяιɛи∂ / ɢιяℓғяιɛи∂:: Open.
ƨɛϰʋαℓ σяιɛитαтισи:: Bi.
cнιℓ∂яɛи:: No!
вɛƨт ғяιɛи∂:: Kiren, a boy of about his age who he met in the hospital, who is suffering from leukemia. They haven’t talked much since Skye got sent off.
ғяιɛи∂ƨ:: Not many. Who wants to be friends with someone who was once crazy? Some, but not all that many.
ɛиɛмιɛƨ:: None yet.
ωнσ ωσʋℓ∂ ʏσʋ ℓικɛ ʏσʋя cнαяαcтɛя тσ вɛ ғяιɛи∂ƨ ωιтн, ωнσ αяɛ иσт αℓяɛα∂ʏ::Charlotte Doe, Nicolette Alexander Tsukehara
тнɛмɛ ƨσиɢ:: Yanderenka. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=69bebBCxYw0 (Its in Japanese, but its about someone going crazy. Any shared physical features between the character and Skye is completely coincidence, I assure you.)


|| ιи ∂ɛρтн ||
ρɛяƨσиαℓιтʏ:: What he’s actually like and what he appears are quite different. He appears hyperactive and very happy-go-lucky. He laughs a lot, smiles more, and very rarely frowns. Insults completely bounce off him, usually because he knows they’re coming though. In truth, he is cheery, but not like that. He takes joy from simple things, like chocolate or a thunderstorm. Very often though, his smiles are mocking. He laughs inwardly when people tell him lies, or foolish opinions that he’s known for days. He was almost collapsing in mirth when a girl had a crush on him and was doing foolish little tricks to try to get his attention. He’s unstable to put it simply, always happy, or furious. Once he gets mad, things turn for worse quickly. He’ll yell, swear, punch, trip up, and stab without restraint. Thankfully, not many things do that to him. A few involve people messing with others emotions, people trying to trick him, the taking of his things, and cucumbers. Yes, the vegetable; there is an assortment of small things that completely throw him over the edge, a remnant from his earlier insanity. There aren’t that many other trances of his madness though, although once or twice a month for a few days at a time he is simply silent and indifferent. He isn’t really sure what causes those fits, nor is anyone for that matter.
ℓικɛƨ:: Some favorites include: chocolate, truthful people, those who are often cheery, rain and lightning, pasta, releasing his inner kleptomaniac(aka, stealing), wintertime, and surprising people.(Whether by passing their expectations, literally, or through very unpleasant pranks.)
∂ιƨℓικɛƨ:: He generally avoids cucumbers, summertime, hot days, people who angst frequently, romance novels, small dogs, and a few other minor and yet completely abhorred things.
ρяσƨ:: Stealth, burglary, making people laugh, embarrassing people, and fleeing are some of his strong points. He also has a natural gift for mixing chemicals and making things explode.
ғℓαωƨ:: Almost anything school-related is a weak point; he can’t focus for his life. Being lightweight and only average height, he can’t fight either. He doesn’t listen to others very often too, and is prone to utterly ignoring people.
ρнσвιαƨ:: Caderephobia. (This might be the word for ‘fear of falling.’ I attached the latin word for ‘to fall’ with ‘phobia.’)
ғαvσʋяιтɛ cσℓσʋя:: Indigo, black, and white. He can’t decide between the three.
ғαvσʋяιтɛ αиιмαℓ:: He really like cats and large dogs. Mastiffs and kittens are Skye’s best friend, for reasons neither him nor anyone else knows.
ғαvσʋяιтɛ ғσσ∂:: Chocolate ice-cream; while it might seem childish, he loves it.
ғαvσʋяιтɛ тv ρяσɢяαммɛ:: He doesn’t watch TV much. He loves a few animes though, namely Death Note. (I don’t watch TV, ever, so that’s why this is so vague.)
ωнαт ∂σɛƨ ʏσʋя cнαяαcтɛя ∂σ ιи тнɛιя ƨραяɛ тιмɛ:: Generally, he goes running around to find something so he doesn’t have spare time. He likes hacking into technology, but for obvious reasons he can’t do that very often. He plays decently at a few sports, namely tennis and soccer. He went skiing once and loved it, but never put together the money to go again. When he absolutely cannot think of anything to do, he goes around and annoys people for the fun of it.
vαℓʋɛƨ:: He stays by his friends till the end, and is immensely loyal to them. This evolved from him knowing whether they liked him or not.
∂σɛƨ αиʏтнιиɢ нαʋит ʏσʋя cнαяαcтɛя:: Very, very little will bother him. The primary exceptions are the few objects mentioned previously which really bother him. He has off days though were he is terrified by nearly everything, and Skye dislikes heights. The idea of going to the top of a mountain is like suggesting he go to hell. Threats don’t affect him much though, because he can tell if they are genuine. If they are, then he runs. He has no qualms with it, and usually says something along the lines of: “I do find it embarrassing to run away. I advance in the opposite direction, you see.”
нσмɛ ℓιғɛ:: ‘Home’ is putting it nicely. Through bets, odd jobs, and stolen goods, he provided for himself; Skye mainly used his home only for a bed. He avoided his mother, never asked for money unless desperate, and killed a lot of time.
нσввιɛƨ:: Sports that involve a fair amount of running, thievery, and generally bothering people around him.
ғαvσʋяιтɛ тʏρɛ σғ мʋƨιc:: Electronic/pop

|| ρɛяƨσиαℓ вɛℓσиɢιиɢƨ ||

нσмɛ:: His home is an apartment building, which he generally avoids as his mother lurks within. Its quite run down, and more than a little dirty.
яσσм:: Its very empty, and very small. It had a questionable bed the resembles a cot with a blanket thrown over it, a desk and chair, which smell iffy at best, a laptop, and a few bags strewn in the corner, filled with item to be sold. Very little else could be found in there.
ℓαρтσρ / cσмρʋтɛя:: He has a laptop, which if someone managed to get the past the five different passwords/blocks he put on it, is filled with a astounding amount of information. Skye records what he see and hears, the best people to sell too, those with poor security, and a huge amount of data that is very random, often just miscellaneous things he downloaded from online.
ρнσиɛ:: A cheap cell-phone, a bit battered and dented, which serves no other purpose than to make calls and texts.
cαя:: Nope.
σтнɛя ρɛяƨσиαℓ вɛℓσиɢιиɢƨ:: Very, very few. He always keeps a few choice items on him, and a notebook. Given the amount of information that goes through his head just by walking past a group of people, he needed a place to copy it all down.

|| αρρɛяɛиcɛ ||

hαιя cσℓσя:: Light Brown
нαιя ƨтʏℓɛ:: Messy, poorly cut. Usually tied back into an improved, short, maybe an inch long, ponytail.
ɛʏɛ cσℓσя:: Green
sκιи cσℓσя:: Very light brown
hɛιɢнт:: 5’7 (That’s about average right? P.M. if I messed up.)
wɛιɢнт:: About a hundred-ten, he’s below average, but hardly a skeleton. (P.M. if I got that horribly wrong.)
cℓσтнιиɢ ƨтʏℓɛ:: He wears what comfortable and easy to move in. Usually a simple tee-shirt, shorts that aren’t tight, and a thin jacket, usually a windbreaker. The jacket is usually to hide things he doesn’t want others to see. He very rarely wears shoes that are hard to run in, and usually its sneakers thtelooks like he’s worn them through a thousand mud puddles, which often he has. His clothing doesn’t change much from season to season, except he doesn’t wear shorts in mid-winter, for very apparent reasons.
вσ∂ʏ мσ∂ιғιcαтισиƨ:: None
∂ιƨтιиcтιʌɛ ғɛαтʋяɛƨ:: Not many. He has a scar above his right eye from when he was eight and had a vertigo attack at the top a small cliff. He fell, clipping himself on rocks a good many times. He also has scars on his right knee, shoulder, and all over his hands from this.
ρƨʏcнιcαℓ ƨтяɛиɢтнƨ:: He has strong legs, which he utilizes in the fine art of running from danger. His eyesight is strong in one eye, but only one.
ρƨʏcнιcαℓ ωɛακиɛƨƨɛƨ:: The rest of him is average, or below. Occasionally, when thoughts overwhelm him, he completely collapses.
нɛαℓтн:: He gets sick easily from having relatively bad health during his ‘insanity years.’
ғαvσʋяιтɛ αccɛƨƨσяʏ:: A false silver clip on earring, which he pilfered from a jewelry store awhile back, before he learned it was fake. Rather than trashing it, he kept it, for no apparent reason. Its usually hidden by his hair.
ғαvσʋяιтɛ ριɛcɛ σғ cℓσтнιиɢ:: His altered windbreaker. He attached some rather impressive pockets on the inside, nearly taking off his own fingers in the process, which proved great for storage. Not to mention it’s a pale indigo, his favorite color. He doesn’t really care how strange it looks.

:Different:

[CoffeeAddict]

{Hate to be obnoxious but do you have an idea of when we will be starting?}

[diamonds;;]

[[ when everyone has finished their forms ]][/b]