Cole Christopher Walker[FINITE]

[Cole Walker]

COLE CHRISTOPHER WALKER;;
" We have no use
For the truth
And now’s the time for us to lose
Who we are and how we’ve tried
Taking every step in stride
It now or never to decide."

`So what if you can see the darkest side of me?
tell me about the real you

[/B]Era =P
And you're how old?;14
Your gender?; Female
What's your RP experience?; 5 years heh
How did you find us?;I’m a member, But before that I found this site by an affiliate.
How can we find you?; Pm me or [e-mail]
Do you have any other characters on this site?;Yuppers. Audreyy =P
Anything Else?;Nopes heh[/size]
[/ul]

`That's all changed into lies that drop like acid rain
the basics

[/B]Cole Christopher Walker
nicknames;Cole, Chris Jr., Chrissy, Moron.
age;15
birthday;25^th December
gender;Male
current location;School )=
grade; Freshmen
species; Human
anything else?[/size]
[/ul]

`It's like you're a demon I can't face down
appearance

[/B] Robert Pattinson
hair color;Sandy Brown
eye color;Electric Blues
height/weight;8’1/45 kg
build;Strong/muscular
nationality;American
overall;
His sandy brown hair, tousled and just right,fitting his square face. Always in a rush, he’d never comb, instead let it be, combing his fingers restlessly through it or even giving the out-of-bed impression. Having electric blue eyes, his energy would always show in them. Much enthusiasm would always be found, after he had found proof to his warped theories.He barely dresses up to impress. More of the top of the pile of trash in his wardrobe. Laundry is just mom’s job.

He is rather tall for his age, giving the expression of a giant in making. He wondered sometimes, if any of his ancestors belonged to a family of giants, but his thoughts made him ward it all of, thinking he’s much too fantasy-wise. His strong and muscular built, is normal for a growing teen who eats steak almost each day. He’s much of a giant maniac compared to his pot-bellied father, who is rather short.

Smart.Honest.Gorgeous. Might those be just the words to describe Mr.Theory-talker here? He’s intrigued by those Professor theories, always quoting Einstein and getting teased at by how he could turn into Einstein one day.His face always showed a serious expression, expressing his thoughtfulness, and at times, he would always voice out his thoughts. More or so, his casual wearing would always be a tee-shirt with weird slogans, a pair of jeans and his converse sneakers.
anything else?;
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`I can tell you're lying when your lips move
personality

[/B]

• Alice
  
• Books
  
• His theories
  
• Not going to school
  
• Talking to himself
  
• Companionship
  
• Steak
  
• Winter
  
• Summer
  
• Skateboarding
  
• The Forest
  
• Thinking moments
  
• The smell of coffee
  
• Friends
  
• His personal sketchbook
  

dislikes;
[li]The little voice in his head
[/li][li]Being told what to do
[/li][li]Being rudely woken up
[/li][li]Interruptions
[/li][li]Failing
[/li][li]House Chores
[/li][li]Proved wrong
[/li][li]Snobs
[/li][li]Selfishness
[/li][li]School
[/li][li]Having a bad day
[/li][li]Misfortune
[/li][li]Grounded
[/li][li]Churches
[/li][li]Priests
[/li][/ul]
strengths;

• Talking back
  
• His witty thinking
  
• Being caring, without knowing
  
• His sneaky plans
  
• Spontaneous

weaknesses;

• Black Dogs
  
• Stubborn and sometimes Mean
  
• Sarcasm
  
• Hot temper
  
• Impatience
  

[/B]
Losing someone close to him. Loneliness irks him much more than the sight of a black dog does. He doesn’t mind losing his life for someone, but he does wish that he could prevent losing someone of whom he truly loves and cares for.
hopes;
He hopes that the girl he is truly in love with, would return back his feelings. It does hurt to be rejected. Doesn't it?
best memory; When he met Alice.
worst memory; Seeing murder before him.
overall; Persistent. Childish. Philosophical. What other words could describe young Cole Walker? His persistence would always be there to stop him from doing childish things. His investigation skills and thinking, had people thinking, he as a trained detective, disguised as a highschool student. His persistency, may just be what it takes to calm down a few hearts and coax them to think up something positive and his ‘domineering’ [to some people] lecture of how to live life to the fullest. It is just what he thinks and does. He believes that everyone has a beautiful side of them, then there is the other side, which never cease to ruin their lives. That was how the theory of Angels and Demons existed.He’s always patient with those close to him, never failing to adjust to any kind of atmosphere, with ease. Like his sister, he wished for life to be an adventure. Something more out of the box. Maybe, camping in an unforbidden forest or trying something new, like bungee jumping. That would be great.

His childish tantrums, would cause an uproar in the Walker family, often having him collide with his sister’s caring side. He’d like to have shown his parents something more to that kind and caring sister of his. Her dark side perhaps? He never did believe in an all white person. Everyone has to have their flaws, don’t they? Much more, his childish tantrums would be the cause of jealousy and perhaps attention-seeking. It had always been his sister who would have all the attention she needs. All the approval, but poor Cole would have to live with this teasing about his fantasies and such. It wouldn’t hurt to reveal that he still keeps his toys, for rememberance. Memories of his childhood, was worth remembering, that was then.

His philosophical thoughts, never would fail to bring up the positive side of him. He enjoys inspecting on how humans live. And the existence of supernatural beings, like vampires or even aliens and such, did cross his mind once or twice. But seeing the illogical existence of aliens, he threw it off, bringing him back to the theory of angels and demons. Residents of heaven and hell. He’s much of a thinker really, often spacing out in mid-daylight, or dreaming, with his head floating in the skies.

His talent for drawing would never fail to bring up the creative side of things. But however he tried, he would always end up drawing the same scene, just different shapes and sizes. The scene of a battle between the angel and a demon. Only, with different faces, size and appearance. It was all a blur and much of a mystery to him. And his dream of solving it, would always remain deep in him. He doesn’t like to be disturbed, at times, and prefers to be alone, when he’s in his room. But under certain circumstances, he wouldn’t mind a company or two, to question the logic on the existence of such supernatural beings.

anything else?;
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`What made you think you'd have it your way?
history

[/B]
Christopher C. Walker and Carina Walker [Sullivan] are the wonderful parents of Cole Christopher Walker. His father, being a manager in one of the companies, has always been busy at work, and his mother, a housewife, was left to fuss over the children. Even though, he’s cooped with work, Christopher still takes an effort to have family day, which Cole obviously doesn’t want to, given the short amount of time and knowing his father has to rush back to work.
siblings;
Lila Walker remains to be his only sister. She’s caring, kind and wonderful. Dear god. Cole gets tired of listening to how people think his sister is. He and Lila, get along quite well, excluding those arguments and fights.
other family;
N/A
history; Born on Christmas day itself, his birth was greeted filled with presents and joy. And each birthday of his, would remain like the first. As a child of New York’s company manager, he lived a content life, with his sister always by his side, and his mother always upfront. As he grew into a young toddler, he was able to learn things fast, at an age as such, it was a wonder how he had caught up in class, faster than any others. Some declared him a special child, as he could master complicated sentences in just two days. Books filled his room, toys seemed to disappear suddenly, and an urge for adventure often boiled in the depths of his heart. He grew up in the shadows of his sister, who was often praised for her calm and composed attitude. The care he had felt from his sister, was always mixed with a sort of jealousy, as he watched his sister getting most of the attention. It was like a leech. He grew up a genius, and an envier. But he wanted more than just the ‘coming to school and learning new things’ life, he ached for more. Never did he step out of New York. He did not even step out into the city streets for goodness sake.

After one of his school days, he ventured out in the streets, watching how people live their lifes, how fishmongers amaze him with their strength. How the wonders of New York seem to intimidate him to know more. Whatsmore, it’s the other side of the world which instead of disgust him, made him want to find out more. He was more like a young adult than a pre-teen, as he questioned each person he found fit to ask, interviewing them. Self-defence had never been taught to him, but he found his curious little mind wander into the pits of the alley, as he ‘made friends’ with the crooks, questioning them, and getting laughed at. But all in all, he seemed to know what he was doing, or he did. Getting home, once more with the help of his ‘caring’ sister, he still wasn’t satisfied.

He needed something more. Like any other kid, he watched cartoons and Barney. With his parents’ fussing on his sloppy hair and untied shoelace, he was often placed in his sister’s care, developing a close brotherly-sisterly relationship. He knew how she wished she could be more than the nice girl. And how she wished that he could start combing his own hair. He groaned at that, but to keep his sister talking, he would do so,[with dragging feet that is] and as he grew, he filled his sister with theories on how the world should be balanced into three different components. Heaven. Earth. Hell. It would make perfect sense if he were to explain in detail, but he knew his sister wouldn’t believe him, so instead he drew pictures, knowing that would help.

Somehow, despite talking to his sister, he knew nobody else would believe him. Moron would be what they call him, when they met him. He never did mind, it was just the sub-concious mind of people to call him that. Growing into his teen years, psychology and arts would always remain his interest. He started to notice the bustling school grow more and more filled with students, as he walked through the suffocating corridors. That was when he met Alice, who he was introduced by Elizabeth. He felt a need to care for Alice, worrying for her gentle and fragile nature would be violated by the walls of the school.

He kept a close eye on her, and often situated himself with the ‘friends’, whom he found the need to plot his theories into. It made him pleased to find out that they did not really mind his ridiculous theories. The more he grew closer to them, the more his interest in school would grow, as he found Alice, in a disspiritened mood, one of the days. His kind and gentle soul told him to help her up, care for her, reminding her that life, had to be lived to the fullest. Moody days should be throwned away and looking up on the bright side should be practiced. Though his cheering up tactic is much more of a lecture and his nonsensical mumbling, rather than a proper cheer up, he knew he could do better, always popping up beside her to cheer her up with sweets and chocolates. It was then that he start to realize the power of love for Alice, and always saying out those balanced theories of his.

anything else?;
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`I'm the king of this pity party with my jewel encrusted crown
last few details

[/B]

roleplay sample;

{.You’re looking for something you can’t find

[/size]

Voices, passing by him, as he limped off up the stairs, his huffed breathes heard raspy as he made his way up to the library. The pain which stung his leg was nothing compared to the pain he had spared for himself, due to the failure. If he had been more cautious, if he had been more aware of what was going to happen, this blasted wound wouldn’t have been on his leg in the first place, the stinging off the deep gash on his leg was clumsily bandaged as his dresspants covered the overly bulgy leg. His hood, which hid his face was just a mere presence. He had lived all these years in a shadow, with no light, he made a name for himself for the first youth to be entitled an aristocrat. In the whole France, he had worked his bloody ass off to be nothing more than a Principal of one off the finest schools, only to have his students in dismay, at his usual leaves, leaving them in the clasps, off his employees.

He had much to think off, much to recall. Many faces to remember, many lives to take. Everything started with a small tale, a tale of life. Between the races, between the pups and the bloodsuckers. Between the freeks and those abnormal ones. There were the mortals, powerless, only aided with their puny weapons. The Angels, bounded by slavery, most forced to be working each second by their master, either invinsible or visible in the human form.

Those eyes, whose color was a shade of the color off the sea and the trees, as it slowly merged in a color, unusual to him. His eyes bore that. That color which nobody had witnessed before. Those dark sunken eyes which reads your soul, slowly pulling the strings to your life, that pale, gaunt face, which was the effect of a workaholic. That perfectly symmetrical face which most crave to see and others hurt to get rid off.

The life of Monsieur Devereaux was one filled with mystery, his past was unknown, his present, was yet to be discovered. He seeked far and wide for knowledge, but more or so for the power he had been craving for. That immense power, only blood could give him, slowly sucking out the blood of a creature, taking memories, learning new stories. Starting yet another chapter of life. This same man, who had devoted himself to a life long work in an Academy. How was he able to be what he is now, nobody knew. Nobody knew off the secrets he kept. The rumours he spread. The irony of everything.

That soul has faced more than those eyes showed. More than any elder could imagine. More than what the Angels know. Ah. The Angels. He knew he would’ve come across that point of time where he needed his Angel most. Each of the Angel owners, have been causing the Angel population to become entitled to slavery, he asked his Angel for only one thing, why did she agree to work for him? Why him of all the more experienced aristocrats? The questions which blinded his mind, all answered by a soothing voice. The voice of his angel, as she hushed him, making him forget times and again.

That soft angelic face, the lifeless form. It was a wonder why anyone would put her in his grasp. Those chocolate eyes, which he could see the world in. Everything was with her. That body, light, as if it were a feather. He felt like a child, when he was with her, demanding things from her, wondering why he was doing this. When he knew he was a full grown man, filled with much things to do than to entertain an Angel. He found himself closer to her than himself.

My, my….. Aren’t you thinking too much? Doesn’t it hurt? Your leg…..

You forgot about it did you?

Did the little angel have anything to do with this? Was she the cause?

Tut tut tut.

Monsieur Devereaux…. How could you?

You know the law. Its forbidden

For all you know, she may be taken away from you…..

He could have mentally slapped himself, hearing his thoughts as the stinging pain came back to him. He winced slightly, as he felt the pain spread to his entire leg. It would be worse off. But he did never bother. He did not mind. He wanted to assure something. Something he needed to see with his own eyes.

”You know Lyle…. I have a favour to ask of you. Bring me a book, called ‘L'amour pour l'éternité’”

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His long fingers slipped onto the doorknob, slowly turning it open, as he felt the aroma off mountain load of books, filled his nostrils. He limped forward, eyeing the few students, who were immersed with a book, some passing by him to leave, his ears perked up hearing them say, the taboo word. ‘werewolf’. He could have sworn he had let out a growl as he limped towards the bookshelf, looking up for the book, before finally he found it. The title clear. He never was a reader himself. Let alone, a book filled with romance. He hated Morganna for threatening him to do this. He sighed, as he leaned against the wall, resting his wounded leg. He pulled off his hood, after realizing nobody was around, by now. His eyes caught sight of a figure, a figure he knew very well. He dragged his foot towards the woman, who looked as if she was reading, his hand fell onto her shoulder, as he gripped it, his voice came out, silent yet harsh,

“Illenia…..”
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[Cole Walker]

Done

[` melodie destiny chapman]

`accepted!
and placed in the human! group

[/b] Haha, I know you can pull up those paragraphs :] And those little black eyes just about won me over =D -demonic- Then you changed it. -glares- Haha, kidding ![/SIZE]
[/ul]

[Cole Walker]

Kekeke
Couldn't fool you!
=P
-coughcough-