MASON , emery seth

[emery seth mason]

`go shake it EMY !
`"This is not that dream. This is hard, sweaty, crazy, angry, monstrous fucking.".

[/b] vee
age; 18
rp experience; a whilee.
how you found us;
contact; msn, aim, yahoo, email, pm.
other charries; none.
other; n/a.
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`where the hell is my chiffon.
`i can't seem to get myself into motion.

[/b] emery seth mason
but it's okay everyone calls me; emm, emy, ry, emery.
i popped outta my mom's b.ajingo; 12th april.
actually i'm some sort of; aries
this place was such a s.hit hole; waukegan.
ah, so like paradisefor me; Potomac, Maryland
i don't look it but i'm actually; hawaiian/american.
it's just the way the wind blows; straight.
baddest b.itch all up and through here; fifth year.
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`designers, look out for andrae.
`tim gunn and andrae at the red lobster.

[/b] brendon urie.
you know i could just swim in those; hazel.
does the carpet match the drapes; dark brown.
i wish i could lose like three pounds; 121lbs.
she looks like a freakin giraffe; 5'9"
and then i got one on my a.ss; one on his left arm.
they always seem to notice my; pout?


you'll never see me without my; So now you want to know about my appearance? It is not that smashingly interesting. I wouldn’t say that I’m the hottest dude around, because quite honestly I’m not. I don’t have the best eyes or the best nose or the cutest set of lips to tempt a kiss, but still I do not go around hating my appearance even if I don’t think I look absolutely perfect. So what, I may have strangely coordinated features, but they blend in perfectly to my complexion and make me seem younger than my given age… or as recently it’s been older, but I can mix and match. I have been told though that with certain expressions I pull it gives me an innocent child’s look, like a lost kid wondering around or someone who’s simply tempting for some hugs or love or something on that scale. My hair also changes a lot and that is something that contradicts the innocence look. If it is relatively short then I can look quite innocent especially when I pout or something like that, and pouting is usually something I do a lot especially when I pose in photos… if people are taking them. When it is long though, it makes me look sort of older, if you get what I am trying to say. I usually have quite random haircuts but people seem to like them and I am not going to complain at all or change how I do my hair or some shit like that because I like it and it works for me, and my friends like me as I am and… well they like me for me, and that is good enough for me. Strange little collection of sentences, eh?

I have a nice collection of clothes and I honestly just wear whatever I see fit when I’m out and about and doing who knows what… just whatever comes to mind I guess. So sometimes it is skinny jeans, which is actually most of the time, though I do wear suitable jeans when I go out; smart clothes for special occasions, however shocking that actually is… converse, vans or just normal trainers. Glasses sometimes when I’m reading or when I need them, because I do sometimes, I just don’t wear them all the time. I’ve tried contact lenses and they really just don’t seem to work for me, and that is kind of worrying, if you get me. Though there is not much about my appearance that I loath with great intensity, but there are things I don’t really like. You see because of how I act and stuff people automatically judge me for my small little exterior, like innocent clouds marching along. Proving my point to all these people didn’t seem like a bad idea. I have a tattoo on my right arm, lower arm really. It is distorted piano/keyboard keys… awesome, aren’t they? Yes, well, I like them as I love playing piano/keyboard. It just makes sense.

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

[/b] outside , concerts , walking around randomly , listening to music , secretly writing , skelanimals , ipod , milkshakes , smoothies , cereal , pillow fights , playing guitar , sushi , friends , messing around , emery , bananas , old films , moonlight (tv show) , reading.
i'm about to get wickety-wack all over; headaches , early mornings , what he does , stereotypes , reality tv shows , being followed , being watched , teachers , being rejected , spiders , misty fog , busted , being confused , being bored , being alone.
it's like my signature kinda thing; being a shexy musician , being able to understand , outgoing with people in general , ability to entertain , focusing , drawing.
oh god not this again, i so suck; gets used a lot , being sensible , being around people he likes , controlling temper occasionally , snapping out of his imagination , sitting still for any amounts of time.
it's like children of the corn but worse; dying alone , being left completely alone , falling from a great height , fires , not being able to control himself.
you know one day i'm going to; be a success , have someone to call his own , enjoy life to the full.
it's just this weird innate thing; chewing on towels , chewing on the ends of pencils , wearing odd socks , pouting , reading.
some things just make me scream; confidence , shyness , people who stand up for themselves.
that is the most digusting thing ever; bullies , abusers , people who flaunt and "get around" without changing.


you best remember this b.itch; Usually I’m quite a nice generous person, or so I’ve been told I am. I understand where people are coming from when they’re hurt and try to find the best way possible to cheer them up. I don’t like seeing people upset so I try and cheer them up the best I can but it doesn’t always work, if you must know. Some people have this strange attitude about them that they don’t like being looked after and would rather be left alone. Well if that is so then I cannot do much about it. I’m hyperactive and I don’t do well with sugar, especially if I have had sugar and then people are around me; I go super hyper, no lie. I love having company though and I don’t really like being alone.

I like a lot. It makes me who I am today. I love those “just because” moments, and we’re having one now. I like those moments just because I like those moments. They’re not necessarily awkward moments but they do have a very entertaining image about them. I like a comfortable place to sleep because well… doesn’t everyone? Ah… I love having a comfy warm snug duvet to cuddle up in at the end of a hard day with a lovely warm mug of coco and something nice on TV so that I can just relax. Relaxing’s good, too… I like relaxing. It makes me feel refreshed and a lot calmer when I have something warm to drink and some peace and quiet, not that I hate being around people or anything. I love hugs too. I’m a huggable person, you could say, and I like sharing my love to people all around me. Free hugs? Yes, I think so. Anyone want a free hug? Bargain stores! They are amazing. I love going in to all these old fashioned stores and charity shops and finding something for an incredible price that is just amazing and you cannot find anywhere else normally without great difficulty… or the awkwardness of having to go on Amazon or eBay. Trust is important and I like being trusted because then you can tell that people really are your friends; they trust you with the more important things and their own secrets that can seem so scary and unavoidable. Reading’s good, too, and I read a lot, especially on flights or long journeys I embark on… not so often, but you get the point. Or at least I hope you do.

I said that music was my religion and I cannot believe that I haven’t mentioned music in my list of likes. You see, I love music. I love creating it and I love listening to it, and I love singing as well. It makes me happy and although families are biased it seems to make them happy whenever I used to sing when I lived with them… shame, although I have moved it hasn’t changed a thing. Comfortable clothes, enthusiasm, compassion. I think that everyone loves clothes that are nice and comfortable to wear and if you do not well then I think you are somewhat weird. Not all the clothes you may like or be asked to wear shall be necessarily comfortable but people do try their best to make sure you are not awkward and it is up to you when you are shopping to buy things that are your size and shape. Enthusiasm is an entertaining thing as well; people who are hyperactive and enthusiastic about the silliest and smallest of things really amuse me - in a good way. I like talking to people who share enthusiasm in the strangest of ways. Compassion! People who care for others whom they do not know! People who care for those they don’t necessarily like! People who care full stop! It does not stop; I enjoy spreading the love around and I am glad that there are people who can care and laugh and love as much as possible even if their own world is crashing down around them. The sad thing is though those people don’t necessarily look after themselves.

Genuineness. People who are true, not fakes, and not liars. People who don’t pretend to be something they’re not just to impress others or fit in with a better crowd of people. I like people who are themselves and, well, genuine, don’t you? Ah, I have the strange habit of liking things on for background noise for whatever I’m doing. Take television, or films. I wont necessarily watch them but they shall be put on when I am reading or writing or on the computer or laptop - same thing but you do know one is portable - or having music on particularly and especially whilst I am writing. I love hearing laughter because it means that people are enjoying themselves and having a good time. People who are upfront and honest. I have said before that I dislike liars and people who tell the truth are always instantly forwarded in to my best books. You see people who are honest are easier to trust and I like being able to trust people, and in trusting people you build up a stronger friendship and I love making new friends. I think that is about it because if I go on you shall be bored and find someone new to interrogate and we wouldn’t want that now, would we?

That is a very good question; what am I afraid of? I guess you could say, as a common fear deep within everyone even if they don’t wish to admit it, that being alone frightens me. I don’t want to be alone and I don’t want to have to worry about having no one to talk to because right now I like surrounding myself with my friends and family and anyone else really. Being alone can be good but not forever, not a lifetime without a soul to find or a company to keep. That scares me… that worries me just a little. I am not saying that I am going to get married and have a kid the moment I find someone I like because that would just be really stupid, but I would like to find someone who appreciates me and who likes me for me, and of course I like them too. If we get along and click then it would be a wonderful friendship but yes the concept of being alone does frighten me a little. Guns. Now these do scare me although I never show it. They are dangerous and they kill people and people have died a hundred… possibly thousand times over from gunshot wounds; what about in the wars, ey? People definitely died from gunshot wounds then. As long as they are away from me and I cannot see them then I shall be pleased although I definitely wont freak out if I am standing next to one.[/size][/ul]

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

[/b]
hestia , 39 , full time mother.
gideon , 41 , lawyer.
it's cause you were dropped as a child;
sister , kayla , 15
brother , jacob , 11
brother , patrick , 11
that's what i'll look like when i'm old;
you know the different kind of uncle;
and the one that looks like a rat;
pretty freakin sure we're not related;
yea they used to eat my shoelaces;


it's like hell but only faster; Okay so we all know that I was born an odd twenty years ago; we do not need to argue or confirm that point. I was born on the twelfth of April, shockingly enough. Yes, I know, scary isn’t it? I’ll be twenty-two next year. Anyhow, as I was saying, twelfth of April, nice day, bit on the cold side but no rain. Birth time? Quite early. Wasn’t that an exciting birth I am sure, and I certainly cannot remember, but you get the picture. I was born the second oldest of four boys and my little sister came along a year or so after myself, so quite a big family as it were. I was an expected child so no surprises anywhere. Not sure whether I was planned or not but I wasn’t hated; my parents were pleased to be having a child none the less.

Hestia and Gideon are the most amazing parents you could ever have. Of course I’m biased, but that’s entirely beside the point. You see I love my parents just like the Joker loves his knives in that Batman series, although whether or not they still praise me for being born at five past three in the morning I have yet to discover. I’m sure they do though, as they have raised me through twenty years of my life and I am kicking it to twenty-one next year. Still, as I said I was born at the fairly inconvenient time of five past three in the morning - it was foggy and cloudy, nothing special like some kids who get born with bright wailing sunshine, although as I have said there was no rain and despite the threatening fog it was a nice day.

My mother was just like any other doting mother - and housewife, come to that. She cooked and cleaned with the nifty assistance of relatives and shizz like that. For the first year of my life, before my sister was born she was one of those mothers who never let their children out of their sight. She also wanted to do everything properly by raising me to be polite and well spoken and all that malarkey that really melts away when you grow to be teenagers and attend a school full of rebellious people and the like. Still she loved me and I loved her, and there is still love even today, or so I believe. As my siblings were born though she wasn’t the mother she used to be, and understandably although she would sure remember to look after her little baby Emery now wouldn’t she? And ever since then I always seemed to do something wrong in her eyes. I think it is just the stress of having yet another child, accident or not, along with having two older boys now to look after along with a little girl.

Now my father played a rather different role, not one I am familiar with in children’s books. Of course I know that most boys attach themselves quite firmly to their father’s, but for me this really wasn’t the case until much later on. Gideon was always the strict one, liking to keep the house in order. Baby in bed by a certain time, woken up at another specific one, fed and bathed although he was very brilliant at what he did, of course. Raising children seemed relatively easy, doesn’t it? Well once the younger siblings were born I grew a lot closer to my dad who’d take me out to give Hestia some breathing space with the girls. Ho hum, everything was getting a little crowded, wasn’t it? Gideon was the dad whom I could go to if anything was ever bothering me, and I did on numerous occasions, so really I never felt absolutely left out, especially when they had another two boys and thus completed our family of seven - two parents, Gideon and Hestia, and five children. A little bit on the scary side I should think so. Now I said that I saw him hitting my mother, didn’t I? I never relayed this to him of course; I didn’t want to break the family up if it was splitting. Still I tried my best to get on with things, and it seemed like the reason for the hitting and the spite was the stress with all the kids. So I guess I have learnt to forgive and forget, as it were.

We now end our gory-filled tale with how I am getting on in the present day. With three best friends by my side nothing could be better. I left my parents, however sad that may be, and I’m happy now where I am. I know that my siblings are growing up and they shall be leaving soon, not that some all ready probably haven’t particularly my sister, but you get the point don’t you? I’m living life now how I chose to which is a great thing to do within the confines of the law as I have no desire to go round breaking it. There… my long lost tale is now complete. Everyone can take a breather. Part two coming soon to a TV channel near you. Peace.


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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; fifth year , music.
it's six am in the morning middle of winter; I don't think so.

you must be smelling your own crotch;

BACK TO THE STREET WHERE WE BEGAN,

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FEELING AS GOOD AS LOVERS CAN.[/color][/font]
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Well at least it wasn’t snowing. No, it was raining. Good for some people because they tended to like the weather cold and drizzly and without a cause to run around laughing and joking and having a good time. Bad for others because they could not get done half of what they originally wanted to get done. Sometimes not even half; more than half was equally regular. Still you could always find something to do on a rainy day where the sun isn’t shining and the clouds are grey and dark and dismal like the inside confines of a misty cave situated in a vast empty wasteland. The last few days hadn’t been too bad for this one particular boy who was suffering from inside boredom, a very common disease caught by hundreds of people who are stuck indoors on a horrible rainy day. There was always the knowledge that rain would have to come again; it couldn’t remain sunny for the rest of his life now, could it? No, that would be asking for just a bit too much. This twenty-one year old knew exactly that - life was not fair no matter how much you wished for it to be, and so you had to learn to deal with things that weren’t exactly going according to plan. He’d be so lucky if they were. Funny things tend to happen when you’re within the company of people whom you really don’t know and you only realise this fact when you wake up in the morning. Nursing a sore head from whatever injury he seemed to have received, Ry found it almost impossible to drag himself up from the couch he was currently sprawled across as if he didn’t have a single care in the world. What exactly had happened last night to give him this much of a headache? This is one of those times in your life where you conduct a mental checklist.

Drinking? Most certainly, although it wasn’t with anyone he knew. Having fun? Most definitely. Ry liked to make a point to enjoy himself thoroughly whenever he was out. Drinking heavily? No. Ryder had enough sense to know that he didn’t want to be suffering from a horrific hangover the following morning and so had been careful enough to concentrate on his alcohol consumption. He tried closing his eyes and picturing the scenes, flashing images like a slideshow of photographs or power points, but something was purposely impairing his memory and making it extremely difficult for him to remember anything. This probably wasn’t a good thing. Ryder wanted to know how he happened to have a bruise sharpening under the bangs on his forehead and he was aiming to find out. Without fail. As said Ryder’s bangs covered up the bruise and so he didn’t have to worry about that, no. Still all know what happens when you mix Ryder with alcohol - his actions are not exactly going to be forgettable. It was one of the many cons to being a particularly open and confident person when he wasn’t out of his head and having the expressive nature that allows him to easily start conversations with people about random and or otherwise pointless things that no one else really pays any attention to. Hell, if Ryder counted up the amount of times he’d woken up not knowing what had happened the night before… well let’s just say that it isn’t a pleasant experience. Twenty-one years of age and he was all ready having repeated blackouts. That or someone was stalking him every time he went out and had a goal to hit him over the head. Ah perhaps that was where the bruise had come from.

It was only after he’d shut the door to his cosy little apartment home did he realise that he’d left his money inside. A brief curse under his breath, a shot back inside, a closed door and fifteen minutes later and Ryder was outside again, hood brought defiantly over his head to protect his hair from getting absolutely drenched. Shame that Starbucks was the only place in sight as he began walking in no particular direction or with no real motivation; there was no grudge he bore against the place apart from having a cold coffee when he’d sworn he’d asked for something piping hot. Nevertheless, forgive and forget. “Hot chocolate please… and a cheese tomato and cucumber baguette.” He grinned at the person hovering awkwardly behind the till as she punched in with trembling fingers his order. “Most welcome.” He replied to her bare whisper thanks as he gave her the money. Once receiving his change he bounced about on both feet whilst waiting for his order - the café seemed to be slowly but surely filling up. One girl however caught his attention and it seemed to be the color of her hair. Seeing as she looked rather lonely - and of course he couldn’t have that now could he? - Ryder collected his things on a tray and glided over to the girl, sat down at her table and gave her a grin as he pulled his hood down. “Busy busy busy.” He began, lifting the small mug in to his hands. “Not exactly a nice day though.” Always start conversations with the weather. Yes, that was sure to be an interesting experiment.

status, finished.
outfit, tada.
words, 897
music, pretty. odd.
notes, gaaah.

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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

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[adminSTREAMY!]

`` 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.