Post by Ethan Leeroy James on Jul 23, 2010 15:04:16 GMT -6
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idon'tcareaboutclever,idon'tcareaboutfunny
ethanleeroyjamesbonjour, my name is DAMION. i've got EIGHTEEN
tracks spinning on my record. i've got serious skill 'cause i've been roleplaying for SEVEN and i live in the CENTRAL timezone. to contact me try in.utter.darkness@hotmail.com (it's my sister's account but we share it for RPGs. You can put Ethan in the title if it's private)
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name , Ethan Leeroy James
nicknames , Eth : LeeRoyalty
age & date of birth , twenty-six : June 8
gender , male
sexual orientation , straight
occupation , Olympic rider : Dressage Instructor
played by , Kellan Lutz
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height , 6'1"
weight , 180
basic appearance, Ethan is very self concious on his appearance. With the thick legs he gained while riding he felt it neccessary to work out his upper body. He bench presses and works out his abs on a regular basis. He keeps his hair short to prevent helmet hair when he jumps, but mostly because he doesn't have the time to care for it. A scoop of gel to run through and then spike his blonde hair. Ethan is the prime example of the jock definition, blonde haired, blue eye athletic type. He was never into football but he still looks like a line-backer or some kind of defense player, as long as you ignore the slight limp in his right leg.
Ethan likes to wear loose fitting clothes but at the same time things that show off his muscles. Even though he chooses the plain colored shirts they are normally name brand, unless he's out in the barn, then it's a plain white short sleeved shirt and a pair of Levi's. He knows your suppose to wear the normal breeches and boots, but he prefers a pair of Nikes. He never really cared about getting anything dirty. He has a trust fund set up that delivers him a large sum of money every five years, so he's always flashing something expensive.
He wears a gold Saint George's medallion around his neck. He is the patron of riders and horses alike. His father gave it to him after his first ride. He sometimes wears a gold Rolex around his right wrist since he's left handed. He's not big in jewlery but sometimes he just has to show off his money. A large protion of the time he smells like horse, or hay, but when he goes out he chooses to use some name brand cologne.
physical flaws,
- Has wide shoulders that goes down to a smaller waste causing a triangular effect.
- Has a cleft chin
- Has large noticable ears
- Walks with a limp because of an accident
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life'saboutfilmstarsandlessaboutmothers
likes ,
* Football and Sports
* Listening to music
* Hanging out with Friends
* Money
* Girls
* Causing trouble
* Lying
* Scheming
* Sex
* Drinking
* Riding
* Dressage
* Friends
* Going on adventures
* Dogs
*Dancing
* Spaghetti
dislikes ,
* Annoying people
* Authority
* Girls that talk to much
* People who talk shit and not back it up
* Girls who think that he's not good enough for them
* Proving himself
* Jalepenos
* Cats
* Spinach
* Staying inside
* Guys hitting girls
* His father's dissapointment
* Loud obnoxious people
* Missing a step in the arena
* Smoking
overall personality , Ethan is a good all around guy when it comes to people. He's a kind person, that helps out when he's needed. He gets kind of arrogant when people push him and tends to flash things around. It's in his nature to be competitive, always fighting to get to the top and that's what usually gets him in trouble. He doesn't take kindly to rules, or regulations, the only time he listens is in the arena, and even then he tends to do it his way.
He's a loyal friend, always there bailing friends out or ready to start swinging if they need their back covered. Ethan doesn't really like to fight but it's not like he's never done it before. He likes to put on a tough exterior, the kind of silent bad guy that rides the loud harley, but he's really not. He's a goof around his male friends, wrestling and playing like college boys, but has a gentle hand when it comes to girls and horses.
His life is full of laughter, but he doesn't tend to be outgoing in new places. Even though the flashing lights and blue ribbons make him feel at home, he's a get in get out kind of guy. He's never really made a commitment before until he became an instructor. Soliloquy is the first thing that he's ever bought with money that he earned and kept for more than a year. He's a determined and persistent man that makes goals and reaches them. He opens up as you get to know him it's not hard as long as you don't talk about his past. Ask him about his trophies, or his winnings and you'll have a big headed pig, but set him straight and he'll be cool.
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it'sallaboutfastcarsandcussingeachother
hometown , Willoughby, Ohio
family , Mother: Deceased; Father: Cleveland Lawyer; Stepmother: Home Maker
pets , Horses: Soliloquy & Chevalier Noir ; Dogs: Tsume
history , I grew up in Willoughby, Ohio on a large lot of land next to my grandparent’s 100 acre lot. I guess you could say we had a lot of money, I mean a large house and a 6 stall stable in the back yard. My father was a Cleveland lawyer, but not like one of those job obsessed ones. No my father kissed me goodbye every morning and would be home at 5:30 sharp. I would do my homework by the time he got home, mom would cook dinner and then we would go out riding for hours on end, playing low and highs, talking about our days. I was young but that was the happiest time of my life. My father would let me ride his old quarter horse Gus while I was still small.
On my third birthday we had a little get together, cake and candles and presents. Lots of presents, but the best one was a Shetland pony named Theodore. He was my best friend throughout my childhood. He was calm and gentle with me, as he was getting on in age but he still had the energy of his youth. I would race my father and mother, even though my horse was against the odds every time. However, they let me win though it was hard to do when you were on a lead rope. I remember having our butler Jeffrey lead me around our little corral for hours until I was old enough to ride by myself. Under any circumstance I was not allowed to ride out by myself so Jeffrey had to stand watch at the railing as I ran around in circles.
On my fifth birthday I got an upgrade, a rather elderly Arabian. He had been retired from the show ring a couple years ago for respect to his age and my father had bought him for me because Theodore was getting too small. However we kept him in the extra stall feeding him carrots and letting him out to pasture. Theodore and Reagan became close out in the fields, thick as thieves. Then one day in the summer, as we were bringing in all the horses, only little Teddy came. It seemed that Reagan had passed away out in the dense foliage, underneath his favorite tree. I don’t know how long I cried for, but my father held me and told me it was the way of life as my mother brought me warm tea. I felt better but I still didn’t like the thought of death.
Poor Theodore, there was nothing we could do for him anymore. He just moped around with his head hanging low, not eating. He started wasting away, staying in his stall the whole time, and never coming out to the sunshine or the fresh air. It wasn’t a surprise that the Shetland pony pasted away in the middle of the night. This time I was used to the thought of death but it was still like a punch to the stomach.
In the eighth grade I came home from school, to find my grandmother sitting at our kitchen table sucking down some black coffee. Her eyes were red and puffy and her voice was raspy and raw. She sat me down and took my hand patting it softly. She said there had been an accident; my mother had a head on with a drunk driver. It was something that just shot through me. I couldn’t breathe right, my chest clamping, causing me to gasp.
It was hard hearing the news, going to the funeral, seeing my father and perfect family fall apart. Somehow life went on as usual, though the days seemed to blur together. It seemed so strange going to school the same way, Jeffrey driving me down the street to the academy, then going to class and riding lessons everyday like nothing had changed. School was no different, just time consuming if you ask me, but I threw myself into my studies and practicing my riding.
By now I had a ten year old retired racehorse and was actually able to go out alone, so that’s what I did most of the time. I would get home and just go out to the stables and ride, ride for hours on end till the sun went down. My father grew more distant the few months after the funeral, diving into his work and not coming home till late. Sometimes I beat him home after my rides, if he even bothered to come home at all.
By the next summer I was enrolled in the boarding school, eventing in my spare time before curfew. It didn’t bother me much, sleeping and eating at school. My father was disappearing in my life and it couldn’t hurt putting some distance in between us. He always wanted me to be a lawyer, follow in his footsteps, but I didn’t want to do that now since I had gotten into dressage. I had Jeffrey talk my father into buying me a trained horse, and practiced during my high school carrier.
Every weekend and holiday break I came home to Jeffrey, my father moving into an apartment in the city. Jeffrey became my confidant, my second father, in the few years till I graduated. We became close on those late night dinners, telling all of our secrets and stories. There was money flowing in all the time so I wasn’t ever troubled for the thought of pushing my career farther.
My senior year I was leasing three professionally trained warmbloods, competing in dressage events all over the state and surrounding area. Every time I won a trophy or blue ribbon my father popped out of the shadows and finally spoke to me. It was just like old times, we would talk like nothing ever happened, went out to eat and talked, but he was always gone by the next morning. He believed in my way of life and supported me fully being miles away. After my graduation I was sent to the Academy of Dressage in South Australia to learn and work on my moves.
I was supplied with Olympic trained horses and taught by world class instructors. In my free time to earn a little spending money for myself and to learn basics I instructed along with my teachers. There were visions of the Olympics in my eyes, but a freak leg injury with a stampeding horse kept me off the back of a horse for nearly a year. The busted leg made it hard to keep my movements discreet enough to win any high class events, so I just stuck to my instructing.
In 2004 I bought a Westphalian yearling, that I had hoped to train with my rehabilitation and possibly aim for the Olympics again. However, he was still young and fairly new to the game, so I had my friend who trained a lot of the horses at the Academy. I got a job at the Academy teaching dressage to advance levels of dressage.
About two years ago my leg had gotten better and I started competing again, but Soliloquy wasn’t at an advance level and the school horses were all being leased so I needed to get my own. There had been a breeder that supplied us with quality Warlanders for the Academy that had a few trained horses they were leasing. So over the next two years I leased a twelve year old gelding, competing him at low levels at first and then getting higher with every win.
As I was getting ready to move back to the states, I decided to take Kingston with me, so I dished out a large sum of money and packed up all my things and moved to Chicago. By now my father had remarried and moved into a larger apartment in Cleveland. I was getting trust fund money every five years, so I wasn’t in need of money or my father’s approval, but there was something inside that pushed me farther to my goal. So now I find myself at Caramel Rivers hoping to instruct while shooting for the Gold.
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roleplay sample ,
The car started to life, rumbling under me in a quiet purr. I felt the vibrations in the seat as I turned to look over my shoulder. Turning the steering wheel slightly, I merged into the busy intersection, away from the curb. I looked back once, silently saying goodbye to my Manhattan apartment.
I hate Mondays, I thought as traffic roared past me on the interstate, but it didn't bother me. I pressed the accelerator down and started weaving in between the many cars. My mustang reaching ninety. I looked from side to side to see a cop, though none registered in my peripheral vision.
I slowed slightly just to pull off on my exit which was a large loop. I swirled downward, doing a slight drift around the bend. As soon as I was on flat ground again, I pushed the accelerator to 120, pushing the vehicle farther and faster.
Whoosh, went the traffic lights as I passed through their bright red signs. Looking in the rear view mirror, I caught site of a spiraling truck. He obviously meant to avoid me, I thought.
John F. Kennedy International Airport jumped off a big screen street sign as I passed by, nearly blurring. Finally. I slowed my speed down a little, still 30 over the speed limit, but eh, who cares right? I wheeled into the large intersection, and then into a parking spot, well two.
I jumped out of the spot, throwing the keys at a valet parking attendant. He looked at me in a horrified way, as I smiled. Hey, sunny, don't worry. All you got to do is take it to the luggage rack. It's coming with me. The boy gave me a terrified nod as he climbed in, starting the engine.
I approached the out door ticket counter and handed them my boarding pass. "Do you have any luggage sir?" One of them asked.
Nah, got it all right here. I said, heaving the large duffel bag over my shoulder. It wasn't really heavy, but it was large. It would fit in the over head compartment. "Very well sir," said the man, handing me back my boarding pass. I gave him a curt nod, and moved on.
Oh, sir? You do have that my vehicle is also coming on the journey with me, right? I asked generally worried about my most prized possession. "Yes sir. It'll be in Nevada a day after you." Good, that'll do.
I mounted the stairs, to impatient to wait for the people on the escalator. I passed a pack of little kids and their mother. God, I hated kids. "Next!" called out the attendant at the metal detector. I swerved around the family as the mother bent down. I smiled gently at the attendant as he gave me a strange look. Handing him my pass, all he said was, "Have a nice day."
I looked at the Large monitors hanging on the wall, finding Sierra, Nevada, On Time. Good, I thought. I made my way to Gate 45, which just happened to be on the other end of the d*m airport. I took my time, slowly strolling since my speeding had gotten me he an hour early. I looked at a blond sitting at the Starbucks' counter. I silently made my way over to her, clearing my throat as I stepped up behind her. "Not Interested." came a voice from in front of me, as she lifted her left hand to show me the large diamond ring on her finger. Smirking, I retorted with a Excuse me miss, but not everybody is here to hit on you. Can I get an iced chocolate cappuccino? The lady behind the counter nodded to me, and gave me my drink a few minutes later. I gave a smile to her, and a nod to the totally embarrassed lady sitting at the bar. Her head was down, looking at her ring. This made me smile at I walked away, and into my gate.
They were just now boarding, seats 1-6, first class. I grabbed my luggage, hoisting it on my shoulder as I approached the large, old woman at the desk. "Good day sir, have a wonderful flight." I walked down the long ramp and into the plane, sitting in seat 4 A.
.:Time Skip:.
About six hours later, excluding time change, we landed in the Nevada Airport. "When would you like the horse? Would Wednesday be to early?" asked the man that had sat next to me the whole flight. He was a race track owner, with a couple horses for sale. I had told him I was traveling to my new racing stable in the Sierras, ready to start my new line, which was a total crock of nuts. The whole reason I was in Nevada, was because I was a lying, thieving, scamming crook.
Yea, that'll be fine. You have the address right? I asked. "Yes sir, thank you." We shook hands and parted ways. I was the new owner of a champion thoroughbred. I hated animals, but I figured, if I forged some papers, I would get a decent amount of cash for him.
I walked out onto the sidewalk in front of the airport, hailing a taxi. As the large yellow vehicle stopped in front of me, it made me miss my mustang already. I climbed into the backseat, giving the driver the address.
He pulled slowly away from the curb as I leaned back and closed my eyes. I wasn't quite sure how long had it took, but I was there, staring at a large stable as the guy handed me a letter labeled Ethan James. Taking it from him, I went to pull out my money, but he said it was already taken care of. I smiled slightly, told him to have a nice day, and climbed out, ready to meet my new home....
I hate Mondays, I thought as traffic roared past me on the interstate, but it didn't bother me. I pressed the accelerator down and started weaving in between the many cars. My mustang reaching ninety. I looked from side to side to see a cop, though none registered in my peripheral vision.
I slowed slightly just to pull off on my exit which was a large loop. I swirled downward, doing a slight drift around the bend. As soon as I was on flat ground again, I pushed the accelerator to 120, pushing the vehicle farther and faster.
Whoosh, went the traffic lights as I passed through their bright red signs. Looking in the rear view mirror, I caught site of a spiraling truck. He obviously meant to avoid me, I thought.
John F. Kennedy International Airport jumped off a big screen street sign as I passed by, nearly blurring. Finally. I slowed my speed down a little, still 30 over the speed limit, but eh, who cares right? I wheeled into the large intersection, and then into a parking spot, well two.
I jumped out of the spot, throwing the keys at a valet parking attendant. He looked at me in a horrified way, as I smiled. Hey, sunny, don't worry. All you got to do is take it to the luggage rack. It's coming with me. The boy gave me a terrified nod as he climbed in, starting the engine.
I approached the out door ticket counter and handed them my boarding pass. "Do you have any luggage sir?" One of them asked.
Nah, got it all right here. I said, heaving the large duffel bag over my shoulder. It wasn't really heavy, but it was large. It would fit in the over head compartment. "Very well sir," said the man, handing me back my boarding pass. I gave him a curt nod, and moved on.
Oh, sir? You do have that my vehicle is also coming on the journey with me, right? I asked generally worried about my most prized possession. "Yes sir. It'll be in Nevada a day after you." Good, that'll do.
I mounted the stairs, to impatient to wait for the people on the escalator. I passed a pack of little kids and their mother. God, I hated kids. "Next!" called out the attendant at the metal detector. I swerved around the family as the mother bent down. I smiled gently at the attendant as he gave me a strange look. Handing him my pass, all he said was, "Have a nice day."
I looked at the Large monitors hanging on the wall, finding Sierra, Nevada, On Time. Good, I thought. I made my way to Gate 45, which just happened to be on the other end of the d*m airport. I took my time, slowly strolling since my speeding had gotten me he an hour early. I looked at a blond sitting at the Starbucks' counter. I silently made my way over to her, clearing my throat as I stepped up behind her. "Not Interested." came a voice from in front of me, as she lifted her left hand to show me the large diamond ring on her finger. Smirking, I retorted with a Excuse me miss, but not everybody is here to hit on you. Can I get an iced chocolate cappuccino? The lady behind the counter nodded to me, and gave me my drink a few minutes later. I gave a smile to her, and a nod to the totally embarrassed lady sitting at the bar. Her head was down, looking at her ring. This made me smile at I walked away, and into my gate.
They were just now boarding, seats 1-6, first class. I grabbed my luggage, hoisting it on my shoulder as I approached the large, old woman at the desk. "Good day sir, have a wonderful flight." I walked down the long ramp and into the plane, sitting in seat 4 A.
.:Time Skip:.
About six hours later, excluding time change, we landed in the Nevada Airport. "When would you like the horse? Would Wednesday be to early?" asked the man that had sat next to me the whole flight. He was a race track owner, with a couple horses for sale. I had told him I was traveling to my new racing stable in the Sierras, ready to start my new line, which was a total crock of nuts. The whole reason I was in Nevada, was because I was a lying, thieving, scamming crook.
Yea, that'll be fine. You have the address right? I asked. "Yes sir, thank you." We shook hands and parted ways. I was the new owner of a champion thoroughbred. I hated animals, but I figured, if I forged some papers, I would get a decent amount of cash for him.
I walked out onto the sidewalk in front of the airport, hailing a taxi. As the large yellow vehicle stopped in front of me, it made me miss my mustang already. I climbed into the backseat, giving the driver the address.
He pulled slowly away from the curb as I leaned back and closed my eyes. I wasn't quite sure how long had it took, but I was there, staring at a large stable as the guy handed me a letter labeled Ethan James. Taking it from him, I went to pull out my money, but he said it was already taken care of. I smiled slightly, told him to have a nice day, and climbed out, ready to meet my new home....
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mmkay. so this application hurr was made by AMANDA IN WONDERLAND !? of caution. steal it or take off this credit, and i shall hunt you down and eat your insides! lyrics credit to lily allen.
