Post by Spade on Jan 22, 2007 21:25:37 GMT -5
Name: Charles Jordan Holloway
Age: 23
Height: 6'1
Hair color: Blonde
Eye color: Blue
Social class: Upper Middle
Occupation: Photographer
Hometown: Newport
Introduction:
"Come on, dear," spoke a low, almost bass masculine voice, "pout a little bit for me. No more of this happy-girl stuff. You're in a bloody snowstorm; who's happy when they're in a snowstorm?"
-click click-
-snap snap-
"That's a wrap," said the man, winding the cables connected to his camera around his hand.
"Marcia, you did fantastically," he said, patting the rail-thin girl on her sickly looking back, smiling a fake smile; his pronounced jaw making his already pleasant features become all the more handsome.
As her pole-like form retreated into the model's dressing room, he grimaced and wiped his hand on his brand new Armani khakis; something he would not do otherwise, but the girl made him want to throw up the low-cal espresso he had just downed.
"Bloody hell, Andrew," he muttered to the director of the shoot, "get me a size 1 at the very least next time. I'm not doing another shoot like this ever again."
Blue eyes bore into Andrew's own, making their point along with issuing a silent threat; disobey me, and you're out one nationally recognized photographer.
He ran one large hand through his golden locks, mussing the perfectly-messed look he had pulled together that morning.
A little bit of stubble; glasses slightly askew; eyebrows alligned, yet messy; and glowing skin.
No, he wasn't gay; however much the male models wish it, he was as straight as a line. Metrosexual...now that was another thing all together. He liked, no...loved, looking good. He loved the attention he got from people because of his looks, and he adored pampering himself.
Call it vanity if you wish, but he called it a break from the barf-covered t-shirts, ripped (and not in the stylish way) jeans, and hand-me downs he had grown up with.
His life was the national sob-story, happy ending included.
His father had died when he was 15, he, and his 7 siblings had all had to pitch in to keep their tiny house. His mother, bless the woman, turned out 8 perfectly normal, beautiful, and scary intelligent kids.
Well...the intelligence part was yet to be seen in Charlie, a college drop-out, but the other kids were either geniuses or talented in one way or another.
There were 3 girls, aged 12, 12, and 18; Tracey and Gabi (the twins), and Stephanie. And there were 5 boys; aged 9, 14, 14, 22, and 23; Frankie, Chase and Andy (the other twins), Hank, and Charlie himself.
They had a large family to say the least.
Stephanie had just gone to college, Hank was in the army, and Charlie was doing photography.
Both sets of twins were gifted in school; the girls usually got notes coming home from teachers, asking them not to correct the teachers anymore. The boys usually got notes home telling them to stop putting their science projects to prank use.
Stephanie had gotten an athletic scholarship for gymnastics, and and academic one for her work in chemistry. She was the only one of them who was a certified genius, so far.
Frankie was just...gifted and talented. He went to a special grammer school for children talented in the arts; and he was one of the top students in their art program. As in, he could draw like an experienced anatomic scientist.
The older kids were scattered across the country, but were all able to get home in a heart-beat should anything happen. The rest of the kids were still in school, and bless his mother's soul, she was taking care of all of them.
The happy ending bit was that his mom had married a fantastic guy a few years ago, and said fantastic guy was a lawyer. A very good lawyer who made a lot of money, and he paid for the tuition of all the kids, which was a hefty sum. The fact that he was a really nice guy just added to it.
Her shook himself out of the mental hiatus he had to take to think about all the kids, and looked around at the dis-assembelling shoot. Utter chaos was afoot, and he really kind of enjoyed it.
"That's what I get for having 7 siblings," he muttered, smiling to himself.
His web page here: www.neopets.com/~Louellalita
Age: 23
Height: 6'1
Hair color: Blonde
Eye color: Blue
Social class: Upper Middle
Occupation: Photographer
Hometown: Newport
Introduction:
"Come on, dear," spoke a low, almost bass masculine voice, "pout a little bit for me. No more of this happy-girl stuff. You're in a bloody snowstorm; who's happy when they're in a snowstorm?"
-click click-
-snap snap-
"That's a wrap," said the man, winding the cables connected to his camera around his hand.
"Marcia, you did fantastically," he said, patting the rail-thin girl on her sickly looking back, smiling a fake smile; his pronounced jaw making his already pleasant features become all the more handsome.
As her pole-like form retreated into the model's dressing room, he grimaced and wiped his hand on his brand new Armani khakis; something he would not do otherwise, but the girl made him want to throw up the low-cal espresso he had just downed.
"Bloody hell, Andrew," he muttered to the director of the shoot, "get me a size 1 at the very least next time. I'm not doing another shoot like this ever again."
Blue eyes bore into Andrew's own, making their point along with issuing a silent threat; disobey me, and you're out one nationally recognized photographer.
He ran one large hand through his golden locks, mussing the perfectly-messed look he had pulled together that morning.
A little bit of stubble; glasses slightly askew; eyebrows alligned, yet messy; and glowing skin.
No, he wasn't gay; however much the male models wish it, he was as straight as a line. Metrosexual...now that was another thing all together. He liked, no...loved, looking good. He loved the attention he got from people because of his looks, and he adored pampering himself.
Call it vanity if you wish, but he called it a break from the barf-covered t-shirts, ripped (and not in the stylish way) jeans, and hand-me downs he had grown up with.
His life was the national sob-story, happy ending included.
His father had died when he was 15, he, and his 7 siblings had all had to pitch in to keep their tiny house. His mother, bless the woman, turned out 8 perfectly normal, beautiful, and scary intelligent kids.
Well...the intelligence part was yet to be seen in Charlie, a college drop-out, but the other kids were either geniuses or talented in one way or another.
There were 3 girls, aged 12, 12, and 18; Tracey and Gabi (the twins), and Stephanie. And there were 5 boys; aged 9, 14, 14, 22, and 23; Frankie, Chase and Andy (the other twins), Hank, and Charlie himself.
They had a large family to say the least.
Stephanie had just gone to college, Hank was in the army, and Charlie was doing photography.
Both sets of twins were gifted in school; the girls usually got notes coming home from teachers, asking them not to correct the teachers anymore. The boys usually got notes home telling them to stop putting their science projects to prank use.
Stephanie had gotten an athletic scholarship for gymnastics, and and academic one for her work in chemistry. She was the only one of them who was a certified genius, so far.
Frankie was just...gifted and talented. He went to a special grammer school for children talented in the arts; and he was one of the top students in their art program. As in, he could draw like an experienced anatomic scientist.
The older kids were scattered across the country, but were all able to get home in a heart-beat should anything happen. The rest of the kids were still in school, and bless his mother's soul, she was taking care of all of them.
The happy ending bit was that his mom had married a fantastic guy a few years ago, and said fantastic guy was a lawyer. A very good lawyer who made a lot of money, and he paid for the tuition of all the kids, which was a hefty sum. The fact that he was a really nice guy just added to it.
Her shook himself out of the mental hiatus he had to take to think about all the kids, and looked around at the dis-assembelling shoot. Utter chaos was afoot, and he really kind of enjoyed it.
"That's what I get for having 7 siblings," he muttered, smiling to himself.
His web page here: www.neopets.com/~Louellalita