Post by wilks davis on Jun 12, 2009 7:24:47 GMT -5
idon'tcareaboutclever,idon'tcareaboutfunny
wilksaarondavis
bonjour, my name is Doc. i've got 19
tracks spinning on my record. i've got serious skill 'cause i've been roleplaying for a bit over a year.
iwantloadsofclothesandfuckloadsofdiamonds
name , Wilks Aaron Davis
nicknames , Willy, Rooster, Asshole
age & date of birth , june, 4th, 1989
gender , male
sexual orientation , heterosexual
band/position , 3 day reunion/drummer
played by , travis barker
[/size]
ihearpeoplediewhiletryingtofindthem
height , 6'0"
weight , 160lbs
tattoos and piercings , here we go.
Holes
Nose pierced,
Lip pierced (lower, both sides)
Ears pierced (mutiple, both sides)
Tongue pierced.
Tats
Back (latin phrase, mother's name, arrow, heart)
Arm, Left (flowers, webbing, daggers, hearts, skulls, wings)
Arm, Right (flowers, spiderman, gun, skulls, lines, tribal)
Neck (checkered flags, design)
Legs (you don't even want to know)
distinguishing features , if you haven't notice, the dude's completely covered in tattoos. it's a huge part of his life, and a huge part of what he believes in.
physical flaws , the guy looks like he's malnourished. he's INCREDIBLY skinny, yet is always the first guy to go without a shirt wherever he goes. he's gotta show off the tats!
personal style , usually, he'll wear anything comfortable, and anything that'll show off his ink. torn and/or khaki shorts and skate shoes are usually his day to day wardrobe. the guy also tends to keep drumstick sticking out of his back pockets.
if he has to wear something, he'll wear one of two things: band shirts, or skate shirts. the guy loved to express himself, and he loves nothing more than tats, skateboarding, and music. he's just a guy out to experience life, plain and simple.
[/size]
life'saboutfilmstarsandlessaboutmothers
likes , getting ink, getting served, getting busted, getting away, getting off, getting wasted, getting away, getting home, getting paid, getting laid, and getting life..
dislikes , getting harassed, getting accused, getting ignored, getting underestimated, getting beat, getting hairy, getting dressed, getting up, getting things, getting taxes, and getting alone.
strengths , drumming, lying, storytelling, laughing, misbehaving, taking things the wrong way, drinking, partying, making friends, being "that guy." .
weaknesses , can't be serious, always up, always down, no in between, no where to run.
fears , lions, tigers, bears, sharks, hyenas, and being alone forever.
overall personality , wilks is that one guy everyone knows. someone tells a party story, and wilks is the guy who's always got the one up. if you've thought of it, he's done it.
the guy just loves living life. he knows that you only live it once, so live it all out. he'll try to make any situation fun, no matter how appropriate it is. of course, sometimes he takes it too far and the problem gets more out of hand, but that's just who he is.
he's also incredibly proud of who he is. he expresses himself, and is protective of his friends. nine times of ten, he'll be your best friend, stranger or not, but as soon as you come against something he believes in, he's a stubborn and fierce enemy. and hearing what you've already heard, you know he's got no mercy.
secretly, he's had trouble with women. one night stands used to be often, but they've laxed over time. he can't hold a meaningful relationship, and it really bothers him. plus, all the girls on tour just seem way too.... ditzy...
[/size]
it'sallaboutfastcarsandcussingeachother
hometown , liverpool, england.
father , reginold davis, civil engineer.
mother , unknown.
siblings , randy davis, 24, mechanical engineer.
history , i'll write a little one, cuz it's important.
purely for the sake of knowing, he was born in england, and came to america when he was 17. he'd drummed his whole life, fought authority, and was an overall punk. and he loves it.
his brother followed in his father's footsteps, and got all the praise. his mother they never knew.
[/size]
itdoesn'tmatter'cuzi'mpackingplastic
[/size]password , seriously, i can't find the pw to save my life. i've read the rules and plot multiple times.
roleplay sample ,
The steady hum of a tube amp and flourscent lights. That's what writing was all about. Undoubtedly, at least to Doc. No distractions, no interactions, just purely yourself in your element, drawing from your endless bank of ideas, your vocabulary, your interpretation on every line or swipe of ink that is drug across the page in a notebook full of many others. Page after page of someone's psyche. Scratching another letter, of another word, of another song, on another piece of paper, in another torn and whethered notebook that spends it's life lying on the floor, only to be picked up on and poored into by a frenzied hand and passionate writer. This was songwriting.
Doc sat on a stool in the barely heated garage detached from the band's living quarters. He was the only one in there. Only the unfiltered frequencies of the current coming from the wall outlets escaping from his amp accompanied him as he exchanged emotions for ink. His arm layed upon the top of his guitar, and he scribbled on a notebook balanced on his knee. Stopping for a moment to play the rhythm out in his head, or to think of a different way to word his feelings.
To write like this was therepeutic. It was a way of reviewing everything that made Doc himself. It's a self realization, and therefore and actualization of everything that he stood for, and made him who he was. To take all your thoughts, no matter how abstract or primitive, and to place them into a way that they could be communicable makes you replay the emotion in your head. It makes you analyze it and come to aknowledge things you never would have come to realize before. Simply trading your feelings for ink could help you come to terms with those lost, or come to forgive those who've done you wrong.
Or it's simply a way to realize something about yourself. God, Doc couldn't count on both hands the times he'd write his feelings about someone else, and find himself in their shoes, staring at himself in the same light as the accused would, and usually did. It's a way of practicing understanding, fufilling the circle of the prediscussed self-actualizing process that comes as a side effect to writing.
Today's subject wasn't really that of anyone, but anyone's ideals. An abstract piece, which always took more brainpower to develop. It's a take on humanity, on people, on tendencies. What made the nature of society what it was. And to place personal experience, and therefore opinion and feeling into it did nothing but muddy the waters from which he was peering through to find the right words to place after each other, and form this piece of artwork.
Doc strummed a simple chord to remind himself of the key and voicing before adding another contribution of language to the building piece. He couldn't write with anyone else around. Only alone could he truly let everything out, cuz truly, he couldn't trust anyone more than the way he trusted his ideals.
He sighed gently as he felt the resistance of the writer's block in his path. He questioned where he was going with this song, or what he was trying to prove. Was it justified to write simply of the purpose of doing such? That's what he felt like he was doing... simply noodling away, hoping for an epiphany to find it's way from the paper, through his fingers and up to his sense of realization. Maybe he was just lonely, or just couldn't let go. Maybe he was clinging to these thoughts illustrated before him because he was afraid of anything else.
Maybe he should just finish the song... his own thoughts creeped him out sometimes.
[/size]
andthat'swhatmakesmylifesofuckingfantastic
[/size][/blockquote][/size][/center][/blockquote]
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.
