Post by elliot yorke on Nov 1, 2009 16:13:20 GMT -5
ELLIOT paul YORKE
[/size][/center][/B]full name Elliot Paul Yorke[/I] Christ.
nicknames Eli
age 17
year Junior
sexual orientation Heterosexual
personality Motivation is Eli's main problem - or lack of it. He has no goals, no aims, no sense of direction; it's not even like he's held back by being unintelligent, because he's actually sharp and quick on the uptake - he just has no inclination to apply himself to anything. Part of this is his constant distraction: he can finally, finally put his head down to work, but a second later the slightest comment will have his attention pulled away again, and he'll go off on a tangent, either out loud or in his head, because Eli is constantly picking up on his surroundings. Anything from a car crash to a cup of coffee can have him talking for hours, because his attention can be captured by the slightest thing.
As far as hobbies go, Eli has a grand total of zero, unless parties and being out with friends counts. He's a fairly stereotypical teenage boy: he's only ever slept with one girl, and he only ever slept with her once, at a party when he was fifteen, but he tells his friends that there's been more girls; he likes to get drunk and have a laugh, and he's got the sort of magazines under his bed that he wouldn't want his mother to find. Having a good time is Eli's Number One goal - in fact, it's his only goal, because he has no idea where his life is going. Clearly, he's not going to follow his dad into education, because Eli and learning don't even go together when he's the one being taught, never mind the disaster that would surely occur if he tried to teach anyone else, and his grades make it seem pretty unlikely - or impossible - that he's going to follow his mother into medicine, not that he's interested in it anyway. In fact, he's not interested in anything except where his next laugh is coming from.
As a child, Eli was fairly easily led, but that was more to do with his general doesn't-give-a-shit attitude than because he was easy to manipulate. If he was dared to do something, he'd do it without question, and that element remains to this day, but rather than being the classroom horror he used to be, he's more of a background trouble-maker now that he's older. As a seven year old, his teacher tried to get him diagnosed with ADHD because he locked her in a cupboard and then ran round the room upending all the pencil pots all over the floor; the doctor refused to prescribe him Ritalin because the cause of his misbehaviour was not in fact an illness: it was simply that he didn't like the teacher. That sort of behaviour is behind him now, and he's definitely not one of the main trouble-causers - he's too nice for that. Eli's never been a bully: he's just a background trouble-causer now, with low-level mischief and a complete lack of effort in his work, but he's likeable enough and he's willing to be friendly to everyone. Sometimes, he can be fairly ignorant, but it's not through malice - he just drifts off into his own world and stops paying attention to people around him.
Music is a big thing for Eli, as long as it's loud and catchy. He doesn't have any favourite bands in particular; he just wants to be able to dance and sing along and have a good time with his friends, because up until now, life for Eli was simply about being Eli. But now he's hit a problem, because for the first time in his life, he thinks he's fallen in love - and Caitie O'Shea is hardly the right person to fall for. Now he can't stop thinking about her, and he doesn't know what to do.
likes loud music, parties, dancing, being with friends, making other people laugh, espresso, tea, hot chocolate, winter, going to see a band live, halloween, full sugar coke, video games, watching T.V, barbeques on the beach in summer, his parents, cigarettes, alcohol, anything remotely amusing, Caitie O'Shea.
dislikes jealousy, work, homework, being told to motivate himself, boredom, slow music, drugs, elaborate cups of coffee, Diet Coke, hangovers, insomnia, teachers at school, romantic films, music he can't dance to, when the weather's too hot, having to get up too early, having no money, arguments, pressure, the feeling that he's in love.
mother Carla Yorke, née Robinson, midwife.
father Paul Yorke, teacher.
siblings none.
other significant family none.
history Most kids who cause trouble at school can blame it on something their parents have done, but for Eli, that's completely impossible. Ever since he came screaming into the world on the 30th October, 1992, his parents have been unbelieavably supportive. The day he was five years old and snuck back into the classroom at playtime to feed his teacher's coffee to the school hamster was the first sign that school for Eli might not be the easiest ride, and as the problems began to escalate, his parents managed to be unbelievably tolerant. Both of them had had difficult relationships with their own parents, and didn't want the same thing to happen with their son, so even despite all the trouble Eli was getting into at school, they remained a remarkably close and happy family.
Eli made the transition from hyperactive trouble-causer into the teenager he is today when he was fourteen years old and started to discover alcohol with his friends. They'd sip at one bottle of WKD each and think themselves incredibly rebellious and drunk, when in reality they were only the slightest bit tipsy; a year later, however, and things had changed, because having fun was suddenly all about getting as drunk as possible. Eli lost his virginity aged fifteen at a party, but the girl wasn't interested in a further relationship, and he decided thereafter that he didn't much like sex for the sake of it - not that he told his friends that. Even if he'd have wanted to repeat what had happened, however, he would have found it difficult, because the few times he tried, he found that most girls just thought of him as the cute, funny guy they liked as a friend, but not as someone to sleep with.
It did not, however, really bother Eli. Nothing bothered him. Both teachers at school and his parents began to try and persuade him to motivate himself, because he really was not going anywhere fast, but he refused to apply himself - not out of any conscious rebellion, merely because he couldn't be bothered. Life was good, apart from the occasional bout of insomnia, where he would lay awake all night just staring at the ceiling or at the haze of the T.V.
And then he began to notice Caitie O'Shea. They'd been going to the same parties for years, but she had a steady boyfriend and she was off-limits. But a few months later, Eli learned that she was single; he'd heard the rumours, but everyone had discounted them by now. He started talking to her a little more, but for practically the first time in his life he discovered bitter jealousy when he found out she was sleeping with other people - he doesn't think the two of them are anywhere near as close as he'd like them to be, but somehow he's managed to fall in love with her anyway. The problem is, he knows she doesn't feel the same way back, and he has no idea what to do about that, apart from hide it from everyone and carry on as before.
your name Laurenn
blurb m'sixteen, (just =D), m'from England, and I've been roleplaying for about two or three years? Three, I think. Butthen, I'm not very reliable, I just wrote that I'm fifteen and had to edit it, soyeah xD . I'mma probly make someone else at some point, but here's Eli for now =D .
password Kaleidoscope.
roleplay sample
There's a piece of paper on the floor, I notice - only because I dislodged it from the heaps of dirty clothes when I was hunting for the remote. It's a letter from school, congratulating me on graduating - well, not just me, since the same letter will have been sent to everyone and just had the name changed on the address line. This is made more than clear by the content, none of which relates to me in the slightest. You have been an asset to the school during your time here ... we are more than confident that you will go on to bigger and better things ... I've never once in my life been called an asset to the school, and I sincerely doubt the confidence of any teacher that I'm going to be successful. And if the confidence is really there, then I doubt their sanity. Amusement turning up the corners of my lips into a half-smile, I crumple the letter into a ball in my left hand and pass it easily to my right, then throw it across the room, aiming for the bin bag that's in the corner. It lands inside; a perfect goal. He shoots, he scores. Yeah, that's right - in my bedroom, I'm a fucking celebrity.
A noise on the window distracts me, but I rule it out as a stupid bird flying into the glass or something. The next second, there's an identical noise, and then a third. It's too far-fetched to believe that three birds were stupid enough to almost simultaneously crash into my window, so that seems to suggest that there's someone out there. For a moment, I'm tempted to clamber under my covers and pretend to be asleep, because who the hell goes knocking on people's bedroom windows at half past three in the morning? My mind's eye is watching a line of stalkers parade by in the back garden, and I don't want to go and see who it is, just in case my imagination isn't exaggerating. But since when has Eli Yorke been a coward? Since now, you fucker. I get up anyway, wading through ankle deep mess to the curtains and pulling them back. Blinking for a moment through the blue square of light that watching the TV in the dark has left superimposed on my retinas, I try to make out the person standing in the shadowy garden. At last, I work out from the figure that it's a girl, but I don't know any girls with hair cut that short, and it's too dark to make out her face. Frowning slightly, I fight my way back through the room and grab a cigarette from the packet on my chest of drawers. Marlboro; my favourite. Lighting up, I remember at the last moment that my mother hates me smoking in the house; cupping my hand around the smoke in a futile attempt to erase the smell, or perhaps confine it only to the surface of my palm, I duck down the stairs and through the kitchen to the back door. The key scrapes in the lock and I step into the darkness, remembering suddenly that all I'm wearing is the boxers and t-shirt I went to bed in. Well, it's too late to worry about that now.[/ul]
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