Post by JAMES OLIVER WRIGHT on Mar 11, 2015 22:13:42 GMT -7
james oliver wright |
[presto]  lou taylor pucci thief twenty-three auto mechanic heterosexual single quinn [/presto] | FREEFORM APPLICATION jimmy was used to some of the weird looks he got from people and they didn't bother him anymore. in fact, he usually found the looks thrown in his direction a good excuse to have some fun with people. he wasn't, however, used to people not looking at him and judging. in some way. the skeptical gaze usually lead to one of two things, one he was so used to that he expected it and really didn't care about it. the young man was simply lying on a bench in an isolated part of the park, arm thrown over his eyes to block the bright sun as he was lightly dozing in the warm rays. as he heard someone loudly clear their throat, he moved his arm a bit and peeked an eye open. squinting into the brightness and looked at the older man whom had tried for his attention, "uh, can i help you?" the man took it as an invitation and moved to sit on the bench, making jimmy quickly shift up into a sitting position and glare at the man that had woken him from his nap. that's when he noticed the large paper bag the man had been carrying. after he was seated, the stranger began pulling out what looked like a store bought lunch and handed a sandwich to jimmy. "whoa, hey, man, i'm not homeless," he almost barked defensively "oh, i don't mean to offend. i was just hoping to sit and talk to you. i saw you and thought you seemed... interesting." the man smiled politely, making jimmy stare suspiciously. the smile on the strangers face slowly turned awkward until it disappeared, "but i can leave you alone if you'd rather?" after taking a moment to think, jimmy shrugged and took the sandwich. he wasn't sure what the guy wanted but, if he got a free lunch out of it, he could at least try to have an open mind, right? he unwrapped the plastic and eyed it for a moment before taking a bite. "so, what'd you want to talk about?" he asked, clearly showing no signs of manners as his muffled words came out through a mouth full of food. he seemed a little taken aback by the boy, but tried not to let it show. "just... tell me about yourself. you look like the reincarnation of sid vicious. what's your story, son?" jimmy nodded, smirking a bit at the comment about sid vicious, and took another chomp out of the sandwich, thinking for a moment. this time, he actually waited to speak until after he swallowed the food. "alright, i guess. let's see. this story isn't a happy one." he sighed and wiped the back of his hand over his mouth, taking the bottle of water the man handed him and taking a drink from it. "i was born in berkeley, california and i'm an only child. my mom actually wanted to abort me but she couldn't afford it so she kept me, which got her kicked out of her parents' house so it's pretty safe to say i've never met my grandparents. i'm wary of saying she raised me since i pretty much raised myself but she didn't let me die or anything, so i guess she gets some credit there. in the words of rancid, 'first thing you learn: you gotta make it in this world alone,' and truer words have never been spoken." he sat back and took another bite, thoughtfully chewing. "i've never met my dad. or maybe i have, in passing and without either of us knowing since i was a mistake he wanted nothing to do with. not that i really care. if he's the kind of guy to dip out after knocking up a teenager, he probably wouldn't have been dad of the year," he shrugged carelessly, rolling his eyes a little. "she did have brad though and, let me tell you, there are few people i hate as much as i hate that motherfucker. he liked to smack me and my mom around. however, while i would never call my mom 'mom of the year' or anything, i wasn't going to just let her get beat around. it was easier to stand up for her as i got older but, to brad, it was like a game. he didn't care how bad he'd get whooped or how bad my ass was kicked, he just liked to start shit." he wrapped the rest of the sandwich up and took out his cigarettes, needing a smoke while he recounted a past he wasn't fond of. "mom didn't really seem to care either. but anyway, we barely lived paycheck to paycheck in a shitty house in probably the worst part of berkeley. i swear every shitty piece of our furniture was stolen off the curb in front of some foreclosed house before the garbage men could take it. i started making my own money, helping the neighbor fix up cars at his shop when i was, i dunno, fourteen i guess. mom and brad spent all their money on cigarettes, drugs, and booze." he paused and a grin spread over his face, "guess that's where i get my bad habits from." he snickered then crossed his legs and took a drag off his cigarette, leaning his head back and looking up at the tops of the trees in the park. "i dropped out of school my sophomore year. they were threatening to kick me out for failing my classes, being disruptive, getting in fights... but i dropped out instead; i didn't want to give them the satisfaction." he shrugged. "well, what did you do with all your spare time? you were still just a kid and i'm sure bad situations were always presenting themselves. didn't your mom or step-dad care?" he laughed heartily and shook his head. "nah. they said i'd never amount to anything. they liked to harass me about it, thought it was funny. my spare time was spent mostly around town. after i dropped out, i found my gang. in the ditch under this bridge, a lot of the local punks and misfits hung out. dropouts, outcasts, unwanted, unloved. none of us really liked each other but we were probably the closest thing any of us had to a real family. i started from the bottom and worked my way up. we had territory, we had guidelines. for me, i had the 7-11 and my girl. mess with those and i'd rearrange your face. it may not seem like a big deal to you or anything but, to us, it was our sanctuary and our sanity." he took another drag, expression getting a bit intense as he stared hard at the grass. "she was a real skank. i didn't know it at the time, but she was. when i found out, the guy had the balls to come to my 7-11 and stir the pot." he scoffed and rolled his eyes, flicking the ash off the cancer stick and glaring. "i confronted her about it, but she just spat in my face. she told me she'd never loved me; i was just a 'beautiful memory,' whatever that means... so i jumped her other little boyfriend. we duked it out until our friends ripped us apart..." he rubbed the side of his neck subconsciously, under his rough hands in blue ink was a tattoo of the name of the girl. his biggest mistake. there was a brief silence. "did you love her?" jimmy looked up at the stranger, his expression guarded, and he shook his head. "are you kidding me? she was just some dumb girl. i got what i wanted from her. i only jumped the guy because he messed with what was mine. that was all i cared about." but he had to look away, gritting his teeth. he wouldn't even admit to himself that it broke his heart, even after all this time. sometimes, he found himself wondering where she was, what she was doing, if she was still with the other guy. he crossed his arms over his chest and sighed. "that was my last day in berkeley. i wanted a new start. i wanted out of that same old shit town with the same old shit people stuck in their same old shit routines. i went home, packed all my stuff in my car, and left. it was the first time my mom actually acted like a mother, trying to stop me and tell me she loved me and all that other crap... but she was too late. i lived in my car for a while before i finally arrived out here and made it my permanent residence. i was nineteen. i wanted to get as far away from berkeley as possible, and would probably be in new york if i could stand the cold weather and hadn't found this diamond in the rough city. i lived out of my car for the most part, working little jobs here and there for a meal or for some money. i stuck around some place in arizona for a while longer after meeting this girl, lexi." he shook his head and flicked the finished cigarette out onto the pavement. he seemed a bit torn for a moment, his expression tense and almost confused. "she and i hit it off. she was a model, so she flew out of state for shoots pretty often but, i dunno, she was cool. she's probably the first good thing that ever happened to me." a smirk crossed his face while he remembered the bright haired girl; their intimate moments together, their fights, how she always managed to know what he was thinking. the man smiled at the boy. "you loved her, it's written on your face so deeply that you couldn't deny it. where is this lexi now?" his smirk disappeared and he picked at the plastic wrap on the sandwich. "she died... not long after we decided to become exclusive, actually. alcohol poisoning..." the silence was the thick and uncomfortable, and jimmy needed to break it. "i had a drunk spell for a few months. i don't remember a lot from that time but some fuzzy blips of memories and a lot of jail time... anyway, i eventually wound up here and i guess it's pretty alright." he shrugged. "at least it's not berkeley." PETER PAN SYNDROME: jimmy has pretty much locked himself in an eternal state of his teen years. the years he felt untouchable and on top of the world, the best years of his life. he still dresses the same, he still does the same things, and he refuses to change. RECKLESS: this young man is a bit of an adrenaline junkie and, unfortunately for him, he gets his kicks from some illegal activity. i'm not just talking drugs but he's a bit of a kleptomaniac and he enjoys grand theft auto. he knows getting caught could lose him his job and land him in jail but, if he isn't working or partying, he's bored out of his mind and needs to kick up some fun. LOYAL: it doesn't matter who you are, what you do, your past, your dreams, nothing. if jimmy counts you as a friend, he's with you 'til the grave. he's got your back through anything. if someone tries to mess with you, he will raise hell if he has to. VIOLENT: one of his favorite hobbies is fighting. he's usually really laid back and a pretty cool dude but, once you set him off, he will get in your face. he will throw a riot when he's angry and he doesn't care who you are. jimmy mostly just doesn't take any crap from anyone and will take care of it the only way he knows how, the way he was raised: throwing punches. MISUNDERSTOOD: most people look at him and see a punk, a hoodlum. while, yes, he can be just that, he isn't going to snatch your purse or your kids. he isn't looking for acceptance, he is a punk, but he feels like the meaning of that is misconstrued. he's a criminal, but that has nothing to do with being a punk. he'll tell you that being a punk is about standing up for the things you believe and going against the crowds. PUNK: you will usually find jimmy listening to punk music. his favorite band is the sex pistols and his idol is, you guessed it, sid vicious. you could guess that just by looking at him. he has the jean vest with the various patches and pins; he likes to mosh and start riots; he likes to get high and watch movies or talk about life. GRAFFITI: he's been doing graffiti since he was fifteen under the tag name 'jesus of suburbia' and he's gotten pretty good at it. it's a hobby he loves and isn't afraid to show off or talk about. someday, he'd like to be among the ranks of banksy, dr revolt, and craola and have people marveling at his art and being inspiration for some other kid in the future. NATURE: believe it or not, jimmy really does enjoy nature. he likes to go out and just sit around in isolated part of nature, even if it's just a park. he likes to see birds riding the wind currents and likes to hear them sing. he likes to just look at the natural beauty of the world around him, to feel like he's a part of it. COPS: let's go ahead a pretend for ten seconds that this is a total surprise. jimmy doesn't like going to jail and he especially doesn't like cops. cops have always harassed him, even when he was younger and hadn't gotten into the lifestyle he's into now, and he's never had a pleasant experience with them. JUDGMENTALISM: he doesn't personally care what you think about him but, to a degree, he does get annoyed when people judge him solely based on rumors or his appearance. you don't know him and you don't know where he comes from. he doesn't judge people, and he doesn't like when others are judgmental towards each other. HYPOCRITES: jimmy was born and raised by them; he sees them every where he goes. teenagers ranting about bullying then turning around and doing just that; adults complaining about how terrible life is and people should do something to fix it then doing nothing to change it; people that tel him he shouldn't smoke then light up their own cigarette. it irritates him terribly. |
