Post by cameronreeves on Jun 24, 2010 4:30:34 GMT -4
CAMERON TYLER REEVES
....the mask
Your Name: Lesh.
Where did you find us?: RPG-Directory.
How long have you been roleplaying?: Eight years.
Password: [admin edit!]
...basic character information
Birth Name: Cameron Tyler Reeves.
Nickname
Gender: Male.
Age: 18
Grade: 12
Birth date: September 26
Program: Bachelor of Arts
Major: Psychology
Major Explanation:
- It's deceiving, you know- exactly how the brain functions. There have been numerous reports of multiple-personality-disorder; some clients have even referred to it as "four people thriving inside of me, fighting constantly over my own sanity". This has always struck a match in Cameron's mind's-eye since he was about the age of eight, when he observed his mother being taken to the Ward. I guess that's why he's developed an almost sickening fascination with the processing of thoughts and emotions- the complex basis of it all runs in his blood. He's a walking example of his findings.
The Grey Wolf; a breed of wild dog stemming from a hybrid mixture of both the . Though often mistaken for hybrid stem of a large household dog such as the Husky, the animal presents a dominant ferociousness toward outsiders, and while majority are shy of Humans, there have been a few notorious rebels. Grey Wolves are very quiet and sneaky about their work, and are very agile and able when a rival presents itself. Their appearance deceives the public, with their, in a way, beautiful stature, while underneath the fur lies- litterally- a whole different animal. The complexity of the species rivals that of the human psyche; if the animal is of no exact context, being a division of a genus, what makes it it's own at all? In relation to humanity; if someone is infact someones, who are they in truth and substance?
Animal Identity:
Grey Wolf
...personality
Likes:(at least 10)
- Thought
- Parties
- Night
- Rivals
- Girls
- Movies
- Real dates
- Humor
- Running
- A challenge
Dislikes: (at least 10)
- Getting lectured
- His father
- Birthdays
- Stubbornness- even though he himself is very stubborn.
- Stupidity
- Log-Heads; i.e. those boys in the center of the room who's heads are as empty as the air we breathe, yet they're still on top.
- People who act worse than they actually are.
- Liars
- Authority
- Modern society's acceptance of mediocrity.
Fears: (At least 3)
- Settleing
- Overcoming himself
- Dying alone
Strengths: (At least 3)
- Protective
- Excellent in English, and fluent in German, thanks to his father.
- He's definately a charmer.
Weaknesses: (At least 3)
- Very, very dominant
- He used to fall for girls too easily, and become attatched to friendships too well, but over the years this has depleted, because he has constructed a cast-iron wall around every emotion he fears; i.e. anything that may cause him heartbreak.
- Alcohol
Overall:
- There has yet to be a discovery that has woo'ed Cameron, aside from when he as a child discovered Alfred Hitchcock movies. He isn't phased by the television, the telephone, the telescope- sometimes he even wonders when they'll retire the prefix 'tele', and replace it with something far more exciting. He isn't much for small talk, infact, he rather avoids it- it isn't that it makes him uncomfortable, he's just uninterested in the daily lives of people who are convinced their lives are in shambles, when really, it's only a papercut. He'd rather walk the streets, smoking a cig, discovering the people who really do have issues- and then spend hours discussing their life and times. But most people never see this side of him.
He wears different cloaks; he, as one person, feels divided into three parts. Many receive therapy for this kind of division, but Cameron welcomes it- he believes it grants him with a better scope when looking at the World; a broader spectrum of horizons. He spends hours a day interviewing his seperate personalities; and has a mysterious, and sly manner of concealing them to the public eye.
Viewed by majority, he has the gait of a player; words smooth like water, and just the right about of bad to get any girl all in a tiff. But things never get near serious; and he isn't phased. Breaking hearts to him is like breaking the wishbone on Thanksgiving; maybe one day, he'll get lucky- but for right now, it's worth the risk. He's dominant- meaning he's always ready for a challenge. He isn't a bit of a bad-boy; he is a bad-boy- and he doesn't have to fake it. He's chocked up so many reasons to be this way that it isn't even humorous anymore; it's become a lifestyle.
When working in groups, he finds it hard to let others do the work- he feels he must have a mojor part in handleing matters rather than relying on someone else, because who knows if they'll do it right, or on time?
Cameron is very outdoorsy, so it isn't often that you'll find him just lounging around- and if he is, he'll have a hefty explanation for why. When it comes to relationships, he appears light-hearted; he's the one playing the game, you're only the pawn. And in essence, he does embrace that role a bit; but there is far more to the situation. When he is with someone though, he's known for gifts and random, secret dates. He adores surprising people.
When it comes to his studies, Cameron is very focused and schedule-based; he may not appear that way, but he actually enjoys everything that he's learning. He understands that his education here is far better, and more appealing, than he would get in a transfer public school. His focus is in Human Behaviors, where his fascination has grown so thick, it would appear appauling. If he gets that chance, he'll pick your brain; he'll make you angry, happy, high- all for the insight to your expressions, your thoughts. He'll use you to get what he wants to see- I wouldn't take it too personally.
Overall, Cameron still tries to find the humor in almost every situation; a few years back, he discovered that it was better to laugh and move on, because really, so many things are far too obscene not to laugh at. But, it does depend in which state-of-the-mind you happen to cross him in; there is one in which devours happiness. Sears it away like day burns at the night at daybreak. He is very dangerous in this state, and it is his most complex to get out of; he will lead you on. He will hide himself. And you will never know what hit you.
...appearance
x x
Celebrity Play By: Chris Pine
Appearance:
- Measuring in at a sturdy 6'1", and packing a load of about 165 lbs., Cameron Reeves knows how to steal the heat. Sporting a charming smile and dolled up with electric blue eyes, he knows exactly how to work his look; from rugged to sophisticated, he enjoys switching it up every now and again. He keeps himself in top physical condition- should the need arise, he always wants his body to be ready for any possibility. He dresses mostly in layers, but he can be found from time to time in just a worn, old undershirt and cutoffs.
Often being outdoors, Cameron has developed a rich tan, which only fades to a slightly lighter shade during the Winter months. He has a tiny scar from a previous fight going through the back portion of his left eyebrow, and a couple of knicks along his legs. On the inside of his left index finger, he has the words 'drei seelen' ("Three souls" in German) inscribed in black ink.
His hair, when not almost buzzed, is often messy; he never lets it grow past his ears- he was never one for shaggy hair, anyway. The blue of his eyes is often viewed as odd- it's such an electric blue, many think at the first encounter that they're contacts. When he was born, the doctor had told his parents that they would change- he had never seen that color before. But still they remained, giving him eyes into what he viewed as his own personal biosphere.
He dresses according to how he 'feels' that day- i.e. whatever, whoever, takes over his reflexes that morning. It can range from rugged-chic to simple tees and shorts. He doesn't ever put too much effort into his looks; he's not a chick or anything, he'll leave that stuff to them.
He never was much for the razor, but he understands it's purpose. Even still, he's often found sporting his five o'clock shadow from the day before; and around winter, he lets it grow in just a bit- he doesn't want to look like a bear, though.
Backing him, his animal appearance presents itself as a lean, muscular creature- with a snag above his left eye-ridge from a previous encounter. His back legs also have many knicks in them. His fur appears a bit darker than the average Grey Wolf coloring, much to appease his normal hair coloring. It doesn't come close to matching him perfectly, but it does indeed create a nice median between human and animal.
His eye's hue is carried over, their vibrant coloring seeming obscene to others. His coloring fades to normal white on his stomach and under-regions, following in suit to the typical Grey Wolf layout.
...history
Parents: Lelia Elizabeth Sylvan-Reeves; deceased,Charles Cameron Reeves II
Siblings: Emily-Beth Reeves; deceased.
- It wasn't that he didn't want to be at home- it was only that he didn't need to be there. It was a Hell-hole, a collection of plastic memories paraded on shelves for his father to show to the public as if any of it were the truth. It disgusted him. How could someone completely lie about their life? He had questioned his father many times. First, when he was six, in regard to his mother's mental state. She was becoming a different person; paranoid, obscene- in my father's views, she was becoming unacceptable. He began locking her in their closet, and feeding her periodically. She used to whisper to Cameron when he would pass by the tiny room; urging him about something in their blood, warning him about himself. Cameron would tell his father, and he wouldn't hear from her for days. It wasn't until he was 11 that he realized his mother was telling him the truth- three years after she was hauled off to a Mental Ward in Montana. Montana; was there even anything else in that sad excuse for a State? Dirt, Cameron guessed. That was about it. Maybe a tree or two.
At the age of 11, he remembers maturing a bit more rapidly- and much earlier- than the rest of the boys his age. So much so that his father pulled him out of Public school at the completion of that school year. 'It isn't normal', he insisted, 'for a boy to grow up and become like you. You're incorrect.' His father viewed him as faulty, much like his mother, and regarded Cam's different personalities and way of thinking as a sign of mental retardation. He, too, began locking Cameron in his own room. Every day, he relied only on the friendship of his thoughts; the union of his three minds. If he remembers correctly, that was around the time his sister died; the tiny pitter-patter of footsteps had stopped, and the everyday little knocks on his door ceased to exist. No longer did she peer through the slits into his bedroom, her small smile grinning through in portions. He could no longer touch her fingertips through the slats, or hear her breath, asleep, outside of his room every night. He never saw proof of the happening, but he knew his father had done away with her- she, at the age of three, must have portrayed some sort of fault in his eyes. Something improper. Something incorrect. A simple child.
He couldn't completely remember the first night he phased; he only remembers it in bits and pieces, like a puzzle. He remembers an itch, tracing up his feet, latching onto his arms and chest. An irrisistable sensation to scratch, rub- anything to make it go away. He recalls a stunning and vibrant headache; something beyond that of a migrane. He remembers pulling at his hair, trying to make the pain subside- and he remembers what it felt like to break the surface of his skin with his claws. The sharp smells flooded in, and the dark became brightened by a light hue of grey. He felt heavy, dense; he can remember laying on his floor, very still; not sure if it was night or day, not sure if he was concious or knocked out.
He only remembers his father peering into his room the next morning, muttering, 'A dagum mutt. All of this for a stupid dog.' turning around, and retrieving his shotgun. Cameron, confused, noted that he indeed was awake, and tried to regain his feet- he wanted to see the dog, too. But he was puzzled to find no dog in his room- infact, there was no dog in the entire house. He paused at the base of the stairs, hearing his father's heavy footsteps coming from above. They stopped in the vacintity of where his room would be, and he heard his father utter a fierce word. They then quickened pace, and came trodding down the stairs- Cam watched as his father stopped halfway. 'There you are..' He whispered, slowly raising the barrel, 'Such a shame.' Cameron heard it click into place. He unknowingly pinned his ears, taking a step back.
He felt weak, unsteady; what was happening? His headache softly flitted through the back of his mind. His father took another step toward him, his gun raised. 'You know, you're such a pretty animal.' He heard his father laugh gruffly, 'But you'll look even better as a rug.' He heard it cock back. His father was far too close. Where was this animal his dad was referencing to? Catching a glint off of his father's glasses, he could make out an animalistic shape. He jerked around, trying to find the hidden beast- but he only found the dark coffee table, still crowned with the morning's paper.
Cameron looked back at his father's glasses, and watched his father's lip curl up in a slight smile. He was the animal; he was the game.
...connecting human to animal
- As previously mentioned, Grey Wolves are very deceitful creatures; their laid-back personalities, their 'pretty' appearance. Cameron, in the same blood, follows suit in that manner as well. They are very agile, and withhold a lean and tight appearance; Cameron holds his physical condition as one of his top priorities, and makes it a point to run atleast four miles a day.
Grey Wolves dominant personas make them a threat to local farmers and camping facilities; Cameron himself is very dominant in the same manner, and when speaking to or in mention of a possible rival, every word seems to be dripping with the beg of a fight.
...literacy
[/li][li] "Stupid bloke," The neighbor to his right slammed his half-full mug of a brown-colored substance back down on the bar, cursing at the television,
"Should've seen Mathers coming- he ain't Captain for nothin'!" Cameron was still astounded at how into soccer games some older men could get. When the man chose to continue his rant, Cameron rubbed his face and slapped his hand down onto the table,
"Please, sir; we're all trying to enjoy our drinks. Could you please take it down a bit?" His headache from the night before persisted, even though it was 3pm; yet here he sat, drink in hand. But by the way the man took his request, you would've thought he had asked him to die.
"Take yer drink somewhere else if I'm bothin' you, boy- you ain't got no business 'ere anyway." He glared at him through glazed eyes, turning back to the television; what a useless invention. A waste of brain cells. Though Cam enjoyed a decent movie every now and again, he never indulged in tv.
Cameron bit his lip and turned back to his drink, laughing quietly to himself and shaking his head as he took another sip. The man turned back around,
"Got somethin' to say, son?" He cocked an eyebrow, leaning in beside his face; Cam could smell the stale liquor in his breath. Cameron gave a small smile, then looked up at the bartender, as if he was addressing her,
"You know what?" He turned to face the man full-on, "I do, actually." He cocked his head to the side. The man pulled back and narrowed his eyes,
"Don't you get smart with me, kid. I'll show you how a real man hits." The bar had become silent. Cameron looked down at his drink, then back up, smiling again and shaking his head,
"Ah, old man- it'd be a struggle to 'get smart' with a man who lacks such an education, such as yourself." The bar erupted in a bunch of 'oooohhhs', as if the attendants were grade-schoolers, "I have a feeling we'd hit a bit of a wall. As if you're the airport where the planes never land." He made a motion and sound, moving his hand above his head like a plane.
Cameron's small grin grew as he heard the man crack his caloused knuckles.
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