preston "scott" bouvier *

[`` preston scott bouvier]

`go shake it SCOTT !
`"never take life too seriously.. nobody gets out alive anyways".

[/b] carleigh
age; fifteen
rp experience; five years
how you found us; i'm already on this site =P
contact; pm/msn
other charries; adam hixen.
other; <33
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`where the hell is my chiffon.
`i can't seem to get myself into motion.

[/b] preston scott bouvier
but it's okay everyone calls me; scott€
i popped outta my mom's b.ajingo; june twenty-ninth
actually i'm some sort of; cancer
this place was such a s.hit hole; ottawa, canada
ah, so like paradisefor me; plotomac, maryland
i don't look it but i'm actually; french
it's just the way the wind blows; bisexual
baddest b.itch all up and through here; second year ; writing ; writes for the daily newspaper
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`designers, look out for andrae.
`tim gunn and andrae at the red lobster.

[/b] kyle burns
you know i could just swim in those; blue-green
does the carpet match the drapes; blonde with brown streaks
i wish i could lose like three pounds; 130 lbs
she looks like a freakin giraffe; six feet
and then i got one on my a.ss; scott has his nose pierced and a tattoo on his stomach
they always seem to notice my; his crazy hair


you'll never see me without my;

FACE ,
Scott's face is probably one of his main features. His skin is flawless, always fair-skinned no matter how long he spends in the sun, and his bright green - sometimes blue - eyes are always shining. Scott has a bright white smile that always brightens up the room that he's occupying when he dares to flash it. The most noticeable thing about his face is not the face itself, but instead the hair that frames it. His hair is naturally platinum blonde (seriously) and he has grown it long, down to his cheeks anyways. It's always straight, but sometimes he sports brown streaks.

BODY/STLYE ,
Seeing as Scott's face is very pecular, very eye-catching, his body isn't too outstanding. He is built, and stands at a fair six feet even, with a slim frame. His style is peculiar, however. He loves wearing very original items. He adores skinny jeans, and wears them often; usually pairing them with a t-shirt with a clever saying imprinted across the front, the logo for a cause or a band name scribbled on the material. His style includes lots of hats, hoodies, and almost always his iPod.

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`it's a m0.therfu.cking walk off.
`looks like barefoot appalachain lil' abner barbie.

[/b]

skittles
writing
muse
girls
parties
alcohol
video games
television
snowboarding
chivalry
movies
soccer
hockey
music

i'm about to get wickety-wack all over;

drugs
water
reality shows
stupidity
hollywood
silence
boredom
skiing

it's like my signature kinda thing;

writing
sports

oh god not this again, i so suck;

cooking
singing

it's like children of the corn but worse;

having an 'episode' at school
death

you know one day i'm going to;

become a journalist
graduate high school

it's just this weird innate thing;

he bites his fingernails.

some things just make me scream;

blondes
blue eyes
accents
skinny jeans

that is the most digusting thing ever;

gaps (in front two teeth)
lots of makeup

you best remember this b.itch;

WITTY
Witty doesn't even begin to describe the intelligence of this boy. Ever since he was in grade school he has been a genius. Without much effort he has maintaned straight-a report cards for most of his life, in exception to when he was forced into taking family studies. Whenever you're having a conversation with him, it's very evident to see the witty remarks and clever comebacks that he throws into every response to every question, in every reaction to, well... everything.

SARCASTIC
Whenever you have a conversation with Scott, you have to listen to the tone of his voice when he speaks very, very carefully. Most of his words and phrases are dripping with sarcasm. Sometimes it is thick and easy to detect, while other time's it is so subtle that he could sound serious to an untrained ear. He has been practicing sarcasm for his whole life, so he is very good at it.

BIPOLAR
Bipolar disorder is a psychiatric diagnosis that describes a category of mood disorders defined by the presence of one or more episodes of abnormally elevated mood clinically referred to as mania or, if milder, hypomania. Although Scott's bipolar disorder isn't bad, when he's annoyed or irked, he can become easily angry or spazzy. Sometimes he just becomes randomly very hyper or excited. For example, if he was sitting with his elbow on a binder and he couldn't seem to stop his elbow from sliding off, he'd probably toss the binder across the room. Usually he can control his fits of anger, but it's harder to control his depression.

ROMANTIC
A very likeable qualilty of Scott's is his romantic one. He knows how to treat a girl, and he pulls out the stops. He was raised in a very pro-chivalrouse household, so he has been practicing this for years - an has mastered the art of subtle yet warm romance. Although when with girls he is too nervous to actually be too chivalrous, he does try.

FRIENDLY
Although not everyone is friendly to him, Scott is, in general, a friendly person. Some people may not like him due to his somewhat rude nature, but when he's under control he is quite nice and forgiving.

ENERGETIC
Mostly because of his mood swings, Scott is almost always full of energy. Even if one minute he is tired, complaining that he didn't get enough sleep, the next minute he could be bouncing off the walls on what could seem to be a sugar buzz, but it's just him being him, really.

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`lighten up it's just fashion.
`daniel, you're almost completely on the floor.

[/b]

victoria bouvier; thirty-eight ; lawyer
mark bouvier ; forty ; author

it's cause you were dropped as a child;

anthony bouvier ; twenty ; medical student
jeremy bouvier ; fourteen ; high school student

that's what i'll look like when i'm old;

n/a

you know the different kind of uncle;

n/a

and the one that looks like a rat;

n/a

pretty freakin sure we're not related;

n/a

yea they used to eat my shoelaces;
bijoux ; west highland white terrior ; picture


it's like hell but only faster;

On a windy june night, just over seventeen years ago, a Presten Scott Bouvier was brought into the world. He was born with bright blue eyes and small whisps of blonde hair, but the thing that puzzled the doctors was not that. It was his name - why on earth would his mother name her son 'Preston'? They thought that it was basically setting him up for embarrassment later on in life. However she wanted to name her first son after her favourite musician, Elvis Presley, and 'Preston' seemed to be a good comprimise for 'Presley'. His middle name, 'Scott', was derived from his uncle's name who passed away years before Preston was born.

For the most of his life, Preston lived in Ottawa, in Ontario, in Canada. He loved his life - he was bilingual, speaking both english and french, and thought that his name was cool. At least that was what he thought when he was still in grade school, when his blonde hair was styled the same way, short and never brushed, and nobody cared about anything except how long it would be until reccess. Before anyone had developed any sort of sense of individuality, before they had realized their own sense of style or anything. The world was so neutral, so Preston called himself his true name, his friends thinking it was cool. Well, if they dissed it, he'd beat them up, so it was a good system.

But when Preston entered high school, everything changed. He was ridiculed for his name, and quickly changed it for his middle name 'Scott'. He liked it so much better - it was much more normal and drew focus away from him. People didn't laugh when he was called for roll-call; Scott was much more normal than Preston. However, Scott didn't only leave behind his name when he left grade school - he left behind an important chapter in his life, and pretty much the person he was before he entered high school. The young, carefree 'Preston' would be locked in that school forever, and the new Scott was born - who soon became his own person.

Scott was always a talented writer - from the time he was in grade one and actually practiced writing, he had been good at writing out stories, poetry, anything - it seemed to be easy for him to tell how he was feeling just by the words that he was using to descrbe them. If he had any talent at all he could have become a singer/songwriter. But instead, when Scott hit the raw age of ten, he had decided that he was going to one day become a journalist, or perhaps an author. There were so many ideas bouncing around in his head that he couldn't keep track of all of them. This is where Scott excellled most in school, but because of his genius intelligence, he brought home straight-a report cards very often.

Scott's high school career was relatively normal until one day, not long after turning fifteen, he was diagnosed as bipolar. The day started out as any other one - normal, that is. He had arrived at school, and the day was okay. But whenever something happened that didn't agree with Scott would anger him. A lot. Even if it was just a tiny, small thing, he would blow it way out of proportion in his mind. He managed to keep it all in there, though, for the most part. When he reached his final class of the day, history, with his dumbest teacher, he couldn't handle it. He had an episode, a breakdown if you will.

Scott stood up and tossed over his desk, cursing and running from the room. His parents were called and they came and got him, not knowing what to do. They punished him, but were concerned so they took him to the doctors. They both knew well that Scotts father was bipolar, so there was a good chance that he was. After getting checked out, he was indeed diagnosed. School became harder for him - people made fun of him for being different. Finally, his parents decided to move him away, somewhere new, somehwere where he could nurture his talent. He had developed a sarcastic attitude due to the way he had been treated, so entering a new school would be hard from him to grasp.

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`i'm not your usual uncle nick.
`look at my wickety-wack trim. i mean, really.

[/b] 'sunset horizon'
i don't know what it means, something with; second year ; writing
it's six am in the morning middle of winter; n/a

you must be smelling your own crotch; from this site =)

we were running through the town,
all senses had been drowned.
no place we haven't been before.

Oh, what a joy it was to have a free period. When Adam had received his schedule this year he had almost died of extacy upon hearing the news. Last year he hadn't had one, he'd been taking so many classes, that even if he did have one, he would probably spend it doing homework he hadn't finished. This year, Adam had a plan - he was going to finish all of his homework for all the classes before his lunch the night before and the homework from the classes after during his lunch. But a free period, upon which he had no obligations, was certainly something that Adam enjoyed the idea of. It was a nice break. But Adam had one problem with it - he hadn't a clue how to spend it. There were so many things that he could do to pass the time, most of them outside school grounds, but Adam decided that he should stay here today.

First of all, he had hit the cafeteria for a snack. The special today was a bacon mozza burger - which Adam loved, but he wasn't hungry enough for it. He wasn't about to waste his five dollars on that if he wasn't even going to finish it. Instead, he opted for the cheaper but still delicious option of a chocolate bar. Luckily, his favorite chocolate bar was in stock - coffee crisp, so he grabbed a bar and payed the money quickly before heading out of the cafeteria, opening the yellow wrapper from the chocolate and taking a bite. Although it seemed to Adam that chocolate bars were getting smaller and smaller (you had to buy 'jumbo' or 'king' sized ones to get a decent one - but who wanted a chocolate bar that sounded like a condom size?) He had still coughed up the money and ate the chocolate bar quickly, within three bites. It was saddening, really.

After that small adventure, Adam headed to his locker to grab his iPod. He unraveled the headphones from the music player, and popped them into his ears. He picked one of his favorite songs - 'Classified' by 'The Academy Is...' and turned the volume up loud. Putting the white iPod into his pocket, Adam noticed that the song matched the shirt he was wearing - a purple 'The Academy Is...' t-shirt, with the words at the bottom of the shirt and a complex design on the front. It wasn't surprising, though, Adam wore band t-shirts almost every day - most of his closet was dominated with them. That, and pairs of different shades of blue and black jeans, mostly skinny, some wide-legged but almost all of them ripped. Most of his clothes weren't new, he rarely shopped.

Walking past the auditorium, Adam's iPod skipped. Annoyed, he swore under his breath (a bad habit picked up from his two best friends, who could swear with the best of them) and paused the player. Something caught his attention though - his ear, if you will. He could hear someone playing from inside the auditorium, and his curiosity got the best of him and he headed inside, pulling out one of his white headphones even though his music was off, so there was nothing playing. Walking further inside, Adam recognized the girl - she was one that stood out in the crowds, one of his friends in fact. The piece that she was playing was even a little familiar, although Adam couldn't put a name to the piece.

Walking further into the auditorium, Adam decided not to speak until Rory was finished the piece - from what he had learned so far in his music course, interrupting was very, very, bad. It was very unrespectful, at least that was what his teacher liked to say whenever someone talked out of turn, which Adam didn't do very often. He had to admit that it was very irksome when someone was talking while you were playing. You wanted to go over and punch them. So when Rory was finished playing, Adam walked up on the stage and stood infront of the piano.

"Hey there."

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guess what?
and the winner is... of white pages made this not you
steal you die. header and subheader quotes from project runway and rene fris.
no redistribution without credit or a link posted in the correct thread
at the above website. do not change anything

[/font]

[adminNIKKI!]

`` approved !

thank you for applying. your application has been accepted. please go on to post in the claims and create a relationship plot, then you may begin to roleplay.