[color=cccccc][hider=Errol Howe][center][hr][hr][img]http://txt-dynamic.static.1001fonts.net/txt/dHRmLjgwLmE4ZjBkZC5SWEp5YjJ3Z1NHOTNaUSwsLjA,/komikaze.regular.png[/img][hr][hr]

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[h3][sub][color=#26daab]❯[/color] [color=#3bdeb3]❯[/color] [color=#51e1bc]❯[/color] [color=#e56788]❚[/color] [color=#67e5c4]N/A[/color] [color=#e97d99]❚[/color] [color=#7de9cc]Twenty-Four[/color] [color=#ec92aa]❚[/color] [color=#92ecd5]Single[/color] [color=#f0a8bb]❚[/color] [color=#a8f0dd]Homosexual[/color] [color=#f4becc]❚[/color] [color=#bef4e6]Male[/color] [color=#f8d4dd]❚[/color] [color=#bef4e6]❯[/color] [color=#d4f8ee]❯[/color] [color=#eafbf7]❯[/color][/sub][/h3][/center]
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[center][color=#67e5c4]❯[/color][color=#7de9cc]❯[/color][color=#92ecd5]❯[/color][color=#a8f0dd] [u]A P P E A R A N C E[/u] [/color][color=#92ecd5]❮[/color][color=#7de9cc]❮[/color][color=#67e5c4]❮[/color][/center]

[indent][color=f0a8bb]▻[/color] Handsome by anyone's standard. If self-awareness could be a crime, please, Errol like would have had that charged against him, among other things. Those days have long since passed, thank the lord. Now, Errol doesn't feel the need to bring any unwanted attention to his attractiveness. Mostly, it's that nagging feeling that he's likely being judged for even looking remotely similar to the senator's kid arrested for possession and reckless driving [s] and assaulting a cop[/s]. And then even more so when they find out, 'Oh, that is him. Wow, what a loser.'

Thus, Errol often tones it down when it comes to his clothing. His attire is never too flashy, never consists of bright colors, nothing to accentuate his features or highlight his face. Most of his closet consists of suits for anything formal his mother undoubtedly invites him too, along with rows and rows of khaki pants and button up shirts for his day job. Out in public, it's usually a regular tee-shirt, a pair of sunglasses, and a cap. Occasionally, he'll layer on a beard when he's feeling particularly anxious.

Of course, Errol doesn't exactly demand attention when he walks into a room - name and renown aren't exactly an issue where he lives. Sure, he's certainly attractive and can dial that up should the need arise, but Errol doesn't exactly want that. Even then, he doesn't need to do much to get people to look the other way, as his features often come off as brooding and closed off - body cues and a resting bitch face help tremendously. The stature, the baggy close to hide his lean muscle, and the relatively average 5'9" height keep him where he wants to be, generally out of everyone's business.[/indent]

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[center][color=#67e5c4]❯[/color][color=#7de9cc]❯[/color][color=#92ecd5]❯[/color][color=#a8f0dd] [u]P E R S O N A L I T Y[/u] [/color][color=#92ecd5]❮[/color][color=#7de9cc]❮[/color][color=#67e5c4]❮[/color][/center]

[indent][color=f0a8bb]▻[/color] Errol's always favored himself a quiet kid, up until a certain point in his life. That's never changed. Errol doesn't particularly enjoy the scrutiny his family faces, particularly anyone but his own mother. Most of what he's done has been localized, mainly staying within the beautiful Californian state. Unfortunately, the state itself is a hotbed for publicity and his mother takes great advantage of it. Errol, however, never really fit into the public eye. It's always been that way. Anxiety hits Errol harder than most and he's succumbed to the woes of depression plenty in his teenage life.

It never got awful, though. It never escalated beyond that, until he hit his stride in his college years. From eighteen onward (about his twenty-second) Errol took an entire one-eighty. Influenced by a number of friends and by what he considered a lover - a much older one - Errol let himself decline. His demeanor turned from reserved and quiet, to sharp and brutish. He cared little for anyone but himself during his time, and his next fix. Parties had never been an issue during high school, yet his mother couldn't stop hearing about them. Reports and reports filing in just as she began her term as a congresswoman. Errol turned into something he has a very hard time looking back to.

Now, he's met with support from the few family members that bothered to remember his name - namely his mother and sister. Errol shies away from a lot of the public, preferring to keep to his home and to himself. Mostly to keep everything he's done to himself, or as much as he can. It's been years, but it's still easy to remember, still fresh in people's minds. And that runs most of Errol's anxiety and dictates how he interacts with people. Most of his conversations remain brusque, polite, and to the point. It's influenced a lot of how he speaks and his distance from other people tend to mark him as rather snobbish. It's not like Errol minds, much, as it's better than what they could say about him. Still, even those little opinions sway Errol into making decisions based on that thought process alone. His mother thinks he needs to see a shrink, but he insists he's quite fine.

At least he's gone back to what he used to be. At least he can look himself in the mirror and be moderately happy about who he sees. Even if that individual can sometimes come off as an asshat. Some people lack the thick skin to keep up with his harsh sarcasm and Errol doesn't deny that he's snippy, if a little bit caustic. He's not a misanthrope, per se, but he wouldn't mind if people buggered off.[/indent]

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[center][color=#67e5c4]❯[/color][color=#7de9cc]❯[/color][color=#92ecd5]❯[/color][color=#a8f0dd] [u]H I S T O R Y[/u] [/color][color=#92ecd5]❮[/color][color=#7de9cc]❮[/color][color=#67e5c4]❮[/color][/center]

[indent][color=f0a8bb]▻[/color] There's a saying that his mother, Diane Howe, repeats on a near daily basis: "Promises are bullshit. As a politician, it's bullshit that works." They live mostly with that in mind, or at least that's how Diane runs her campaigns. Her children and her home? They mostly live in a layer of 'American Dream Family,' and just work from there. The public absolutely eats it up. Errol had to live through a minimal amount as a young child, though his sister came in at a rather inopportune time. In fact, a lot of shit hit the fan in the middle of the road.

Still, Errol's life was never anything to complain about. His mother doted on him, even her words had more bite to them than necessary. She was blunt and the people around her loved it. Honest? Maybe - when it mattered. Acting transparent and being transparent were two entirely different things, however. Diane played to that to an alarming degree, yet she tread carefully enough that her tactics never really backfired. Some slip ups, certainly, a few mishaps, but no one's perfect. She never expected much of the same from her family - she played politics like a game and if she could keep her children from becoming pawns, then all the better.

Thus, Errol mainly staid out of the spot light. He attended a private school with private tutors during the summer and excelled in mainly the sciences. At an early age, he took up the piano, crooned songs when his mother had enough time to sit with him and idly sip at her wine while she watched her son play. They had an odd relationship, to the say the least. Most of her words seemed entirely cold, nearly abusive and discouraging; Errol bit back with the same acid used against him. To this day, it honed most of his wit and ability to think on his feet. She never meant it, though, unless he actually did something stupid - and he did plenty. While Diane never came off as affectionate or tactile, she showed her love all the same.

Work escalated when Errol graduated and with Errol off to Stanford for most of his studies and his mother campaigning for a spot in Congress, it left a lot of room for Errol to live life alone. Alone, in the sense that he had no parental supervision. That had been the absolute worse choice he made. He hadn't realize just how much he relied on his mother's blunt pressure bearing down on him to keep him from doing the stupidest things he could thing of. And Errol never really partied, never really ached for that spotlight, especially not concerning negative press. Harming his mother's reputation was the last thing on his mind.

That wasn't exactly how things worked out. Most of Errol's friends recognized him for what he was, included him in a group of mingling old and new money kids - people with billions in inheritance and not a care for anything but the money and fame. The lifestyle they lived wasn't exactly one that Errol fancied. Yet, an older man convinced him otherwise.

One of his professors, a coach for the rowing team in Stanford, took a great liking to Errol and once the semester passed, he pursued him with a great fervor. Their relationship had been Errol's first in everything and an enlightening discovery of his own sexuality. It proceeded harmlessly, quite nicely in fact. He doted on Errol, gave him absolutely everything, and showed him quite a bit more than Errol had expected from a first time boyfriend. Unfortunately, that made him all the easier to manipulate and eventually Errol fell into a crowd of people he desperately wanted approval from. Would do anything to get. It appalls him now how much their opinions truly mattered then and how much it drove him to do things he absolutely hated.

The first time it happened had been at his first party. They treated it as a hazing, of sorts, lined up a good dose of coke for someone's first time and convinced him to snort it fully. The next few hours had been the best high he'd felt in years. The drug sizzled in his veins and propelled him forward, made him more confident, more like everyone around him, and more susceptible to following their lead. The next subsequent times required higher doses and the fall drove him to a terrible, itchy neediness. The first time he'd experienced the after effects of the drug, Errol suffered a terrible insomnia that allowed him to sleep in unsatisfying, thirty minute bursts. The next few times, he made sure were within a reasonable time zone.

Before Errol could truly stop and look around, months had passed, his relationships strained and his world focused mainly on the drug and what it could do for him. Those few moments high, he accomplished a grand amount of things he probably couldn't. The friends he'd made only further encouraged it, brought him in and used him to their hearts' content. He grew aggressive, edgy, and ultimately something that Errol knew he wasn't and shouldn't have been in a million years. Regular frat boy comes to mind.

Another year passed and he'd dove even further, eventually pushing all kinds of relationships to the wayside. His relationship with his professor grew strained and when it became apparent that the man had made a mistake in introducing someone like Errol - who'd had a hidden, addictive mentality - to something as dangerous as cocaine, he bailed. Errol hadn't noticed, still fixated on where he could get his next fix. Eventually, he started consuming other drugs, mostly party oriented drugs that he could get on a night without a coke high to fixate on. It drove him into the ground, splattered his name on papers and magazines as his mother grew in her own renown.

It didn't stop until everything Errol did, all the terrible mistakes he made in just a night, gained enough infamy that his mother's own job had been at risk. She'd found him that summer in his dilapidated apartment, the summer funds she'd given him already run dry. Diane nearly broke down. She couldn't think of anything to say, so she yelled at him. Profanities. Anything. She just needed something to say to keep from truly breaking apart in front of her kid.

After a few behind the scenes action from his mother and her team, Errol found himself in rehab, somewhere out of the public eye. The withdrawal hit him hard for how much he'd been using over the year. They hadn't actually been too certain if he'd suffer long term, more permanent damage, especially to his brain, but they were certain he at least had the sense not to accidentally OD. Not yet, that is. It took a few months before Errol found his feet again another few months until he could attend school again.

He quickly gained a decent position at a government research firm (after a [i]lot[/i] of heavy lifting from his mother and numerous drug tests), worked his way up, and found himself a founder in a private researching division working on pharmaceutical drugs - funny how they'd trust him with more drugs. It all eventually worked out, and it became rather easy to save up his own money. Another few years later and he found himself in Lakewood Summit looking at a 6 million dollar home - his mother didn't see the appeal, but wouldn't deny her son anything. Obviously, he needed just a tad bit of help from his mother, but he eventually came to own a nice, European-style home just a walk away from Sparkling Springs.

Not a few years into his residence, did he hear urgent word from his own mother. She'd sent his sister to live with him for an indefinite amount of time. Not two months later did she divorce from her husband of eighteen years. Bewildered at the turn of events, Errol didn't question his mother's decision, but it did pique his curiosity. Unfortunately, he hadn't seen his sister in years and her timid, almost frightful nature never really rang as odd to him. Of course, being sixteen, she was more than expected to attend classes at Lakewood Academy and he had to begrudge the inevitable PTA meetings that came with.[/indent]

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[center][color=#67e5c4]❯[/color][color=#7de9cc]❯[/color][color=#92ecd5][color=#92ecd5]❯[/color][/color][color=#a8f0dd] [u]O C C U P A T I O N[/u] [/color][color=#92ecd5]❮[/color][color=#7de9cc]❮[/color][color=#67e5c4]❮[/color][/center]

[indent][color=f0a8bb]▻[/color] Congresswoman's son, works for a private, pharmaceutical research company of which he founded after discovering a new type of medication with a friend and coworker of his - it provides him with most of his money. He doesn't like the stress of owning the company, so he takes a small pay cut to simply work for them as a co-founder. Obviously there's also a trust fund for him and his sister.

[Co-founder of a now large and booming pharmaceutical research company][/indent]

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[center][color=#67e5c4]❯[/color][color=#7de9cc]❯[/color][color=#92ecd5]❯[/color][color=#a8f0dd] [u]H O B B I E S[/u] [/color][color=#92ecd5]❮[/color][color=#7de9cc]❮[/color][color=#67e5c4]❮[/color][/center]

[indent][s][color=f0a8bb]▻[/color] Formerly cocaine and/or molly.[/s] - this is something, in particular, that he refuses to talk about. People likely know, but no one's bothered to say anything. His mother did a lot of work keeping things from the public, but sometimes one can't help a leak or two. Fortunately, either no one knows, no one cares to acknowledge it over their own problems (cause it's technically old news), or they all talk about it behind his back. He just hopes to god it's not the latter. It's probably the latter.

[s][color=f0a8bb]▻[/color] Formerly partying hard.[/s] - just another thing he refuses to acknowledge, though this specifically has been leaked a lot more than the drugs part. He supposes people assume drugs were involved, even if his mother bribed the publishes to drop those parts and stick with the alcohol and the partying.

[color=f0a8bb]▻[/color] Begrudgingly attends PTA meetings - his sister being only sixteen and only a sophomore, she needs someone to involve themselves in her scholastic career. Without either of his parents currently in the picture, that someone has to be him. He hates it, but it puts a shy smile on Cara's face, so he can't complain - it also allows him a better standing with her.

[color=f0a8bb]▻[/color] Plays Piano and Sings - ever since he was old enough to learn, Errol's been pushed into lesson after lesson until finally something stuck. When his mother gets the chance, she likes to sit down and listen to him croon out old love songs. Either that or some god awful reprise of a terrible pop song because he knows how much it irritates her - but she won't say anything because that'd be rude. Like she has an issue with being rude.

[color=f0a8bb]▻[/color] Yoga - they offered free classes (or kind of free? they paid for the entire stay, so...) at his rehabilitation center and he leaped at the opportunity. It was either this or something more dull and less entertaining than watching a bunch of entirely unflexible individuals try stupid poses. Unfortunately, it's worked wonders to curb his anxiety, depression, and stress and works well with the medication he's been taking (and is monitored on). He's waiting for some asshole to laugh at him.

[color=f0a8bb]▻[/color] Meditation - along with yoga, his instructor at rehab encouraged meditation and for those that wished to stay after, allowed a few lessons intermixed with the poses and stretches. This one's less embarrassing and one he's more inclined to use more often.

[color=f0a8bb]▻[/color] Anonymous Counseling - this one he takes far, far away from Lakewood just out of fear of judgement. It's a number of meetings across the week, his happened to land on a friday morning. It takes him an hour to get there, the session lasts two hours, and an hour to get back so he's usually home by the time Cara is. Errol tells absolutely no one of these.

[color=f0a8bb]▻[/color] Smoking - a bad habit, but not one that people tend to condemn. It's more like publicly frown upon and Errol's more than okay with that. It gives him something to do with his hands.

[color=f0a8bb]▻[/color] Keeping up Appearance - after the whole fiasco with drugs, Errol's been very mindful of what he does and how it gets around. He nearly tanked his mother's career and he's sure if he did something insanely dumb, again, she'd have his hide.[/indent]


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[center][color=#67e5c4]❯[/color][color=#7de9cc]❯[/color][color=#92ecd5]❯[/color][color=#a8f0dd] [u]R E L A T I O N S H I P S[/u] [/color][color=#92ecd5]❮[/color][color=#7de9cc]❮[/color][color=#67e5c4]❮[/color][/center]

[indent][color=f0a8bb]▻[/color] [url=http://data.whicdn.com/images/182258690/large.gif][color=#67e5c4][b]Cara Howe[/b][/color][/url] – [i]Half-Sister[/i] – Slightly estranged relationship, they are unfortunately ten years apart and once Cara hit eight, her brother had already left home. Errol doesn't know much about his sister, though he wants to, especially concerning her odd situation.[/indent]
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[color=cccccc][hider=Jameson Jones][center][hr][hr][img]http://txt-dynamic.static.1001fonts.net/txt/b3RmLjgwLmQ4YTZhNi5TbUZ0WlhOdmJpQktiMjVsY3csLC4xAA,,/rio-glamour-personal-use.regular.png[/img][hr][hr]

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[h3][sub][color=#a04646]❯[/color] [color=#b24e4e]❯[/color] [color=#b95f5f]❯[/color] [color=#83c8c8]❚[/color] [color=#c17171]J.J. / Jay / James[/color] [color=#94d0d0]❚[/color] [color=#c88383]Thirty-Seven[/color] [color=#a6d8d8]❚[/color] [color=#d09494]Single[/color] [color=#b8e0e0]❚[/color] [color=d8a6a6]Conflicted[/color] [color=#c9e8e8]❚[/color] [color=#e0b8b8]Male[/color] [color=#dbf0f0]❚[/color] [color=#e8c9c9]❯[/color] [color=#efdbdb]❯[/color] [color=#f7eded]❯[/color][/sub][/h3]
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[img]http://67.media.tumblr.com/b978a9bba7215a25fd02e68f553991b2/tumblr_nzj713U2td1r9pt1so6_250.gif[/img]    [img]http://66.media.tumblr.com/2ac9ec7b20dcefabdfa0e02f48228782/tumblr_nzj713U2td1r9pt1so4_250.gif[/img]

[sub][color=#f7eded]❯[/color] [color=#efdbdb]❯[/color] [color=#e8c9c9]❯[/color] [color=#83c8c8]❚[/color] [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ly7uj0JwgKg][color=#e0b8b8]Never Be Like You - Flume (ft. Kai)[/color][/url] [color=#94d0d0]❚[/color] [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vv2DSmy3Tro][color=d8a6a6]Stand By Me (Cover) - Florence + the Machine[/color][/url] [color=#a6d8d8]❚[/color] [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZMk-Nb_viR8][color=#d09494]In the Woods Somewhere - Hozier[/color][/url] [color=#b8e0e0]❚[/color] [color=#c88383]❯[/color] [color=#c17171]❯[/color] [color=#b95f5f]❯[/color][/sub]

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[center][color=#c17171]❯[/color][color=#c88383]❯[/color][color=#d09494]❯[/color][color=d8a6a6] [u]A P P E A R A N C E[/u] [/color][color=#d09494]❮[/color][color=#c88383]❮[/color][color=#c17171]❮[/color][/center]

[indent][color=a6d8d8]▻[/color] Every measure of James is edged in softness. Long rounded features with a subtle expression of jaw gives James gentle sweeps in shadows that lightens any hard edges, or corners of his face. Severeness doesn't translate well in James' expressions, sadly; anger doesn't suit him and neither does tension. Handsome would be a good expression of James' features, if used in the context of commenting old ladies or mothers of friends who had a smidgen too much to drink. He's good-looking in a stable, ordinary way. Special isn't something James appears to want, especially concerning his own looks.

Having an incredibly tall stature does nothing for James' humbleness. Most people find it incredibly hard to [i]not[/i] notice a 6'4" behemoth (beanpole) standing over them, no matter how 'gentle' they look. The added musculature from military training that quickly dissolved into necessary routine doesn't aid in softening his first impressions. After the first 'Whoa' is out of the way, a second look definitely dispels any notion of James as anything but a dumb softy.

Most of James' clothing consists of pairs of jeans, nice slacks, and lots of nice sweaters and button ups. Mostly sweaters, though. He likes the sweaters. It's all very toned down, as well as very typical of James. For some reason, the whole sweater game seems to fit him. Maybe it's that shy, dad vibe he seems to give off or the sense that he's chastity, faith, and Sunday Church goer personified. He's even got the loafers to prove it.[/indent]

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[center][color=#c17171]❯[/color][color=#c88383]❯[/color][color=#d09494]❯[/color][color=d8a6a6] [u]P E R S O N A L I T Y[/u] [/color][color=#d09494]❮[/color][color=#c88383]❮[/color][color=#c17171]❮[/color]

[i]"The measure of a man is not how great his faith is, but how great his love is."[/i] - J.C. Watts[/center]

[indent][color=a6d8d8]▻[/color] He's not your typical man, but he is what you'd expect when you look at him. James comes off as an open book and that's true, for the most part. The only things James hides consist of personal memories and issues he's thinks aren't privy to appropriate, acquaintance type relationships. He's soft spoken, if a little goofy, with an entire heart too big to fit in his chest. A big heart doesn't make him likable; being nice doesn't grant a person charisma. What's most apparent when James tends to show his face is his unbelievable persistence and lack of personal boundaries in social situations (barring divulging in dark, personal secrets).

Driven by an underlying loneliness, James seeks personal companionship without realizing his own trespasses. He more so makes acquaintances rather than friends just because his personality tends to veer on the personable side of things. The rest, the lack of timing, the personal space issues, the humble persistence, keeps everyone he knows at arms' length. It's an overbearing attitude, that tends to overwhelm most people, regardless of whether or not social interactions make them claustrophobic. James is a stifling presence in and of himself, with an exhausting demeanor he's not so aware of.

But the thing about James is, everything he does is out of sincerity. Not a lot of people come off quite so genuine, and actually mean it. James is every bit as genuine as he seems, to an almost fake degree. Helping people, guiding people, giving people hope has been something of a job for him for years. It's a crutch. It's something James tends to fall back on when he's on the verge of losing himself. Faith plays a big part in that and even in his lack of relationships, it keeps him hopeful and optimistic, even in his loneliness.[/indent]

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[center][color=#c17171]❯[/color][color=#c88383]❯[/color][color=#d09494]❯[/color][color=d8a6a6] [u]H I S T O R Y[/u] [/color][color=#d09494]❮[/color][color=#c88383]❮[/color][color=#c17171]❮[/color][/center]

[indent][color=a6d8d8]▻[/color] Old money deludes perspectives. Having money grants people the opportunity to care little about what happens outside of personal effects. Materialistic in the simplest form; nothing to do with philosophy. This is about an excessive amount of greed.

Laura and Howard Jones knew absolutely nothing outside of mansions and private jets. Their world consisted of money and continued to do so until their quiet deaths. Thus, their son became an anomaly of sorts, perhaps one that took their church visits too literal - appearances of a wholesome family of Christian values. To want for nothing affected Jameson differently than his parents. With a foundation of faith built upon the years, often lacking intervention from his own parents (negligence, perhaps), Jameson learned very quickly not to care for money.

Growing up, a lot of Jameson's life consisted of a stark lack of people - his parents in particular. Having tutors comprise most of his education due to a constant, moving environment (both Laura and Howard brought their son along on their business trips, purely to increase their positive image) denied Jameson of any long term relationships. He relied a lot on himself for entertainment, and when he could he took quite a lot of time truly indulging in the Christian ideals his parents seemed to tote around. Early on, there really was no realization to how badly they tended to exploit that for good press and better business. Jameson took it seriously and when he'd grown a little older, a little smarter, he was in too deep to care what his parents thought.

Which likely unveiled the already gaping rift between both him and his family - him and his world. In his university years, Jameson quickly fell into a deep depression. Things truly came into perspective then: how much his parents cared for him, how disconnected he was to both them and other people, and how the world he'd built could never hold out under pressure from not only his parents, but society itself. Those years, Jameson had no idea how to hold himself up or where to go from where his family essentially dumped him. So, Jameson turned to his faith - the one constant in his life that afforded him some kind of stability.

The rift tore even wider upon graduating from his own university, and enlisting as chaplain in the U.S. Army. He'd earned his degree, changed his major, and quickly accumulated the required time in theological studies afterwards. It took a few good years to earn a spot in his local church's clergy, and quite a few more spending his time working there before enlisting in the Army. All of which, his parents had been far too busy to even ask what he planned on doing, how he planned to live, whether or not he'd take over their company when they needed him. The woes of having only one child and not caring for them enough to guide them when absolutely necessary.

By the time he'd announced his idea to both parents, Jameson was already sent off to make good of himself.

Most of Jameson's time in the army was spent on bases overseas consisting of providing his services to a number of soldiers, as well as their families. His career had been enlightening, at the most, though detailing out every year he'd spent as a chaplain would come as quite uneventful. It wasn't until long into his own term that Jameson's faith faltered. Quite a few atrocities remain unnamed and buried in the sand. Jameson's time spent in the Middle East didn't quite go as expected, or planned. Witnessing people he'd said prayers for, gave advice to, counseled commit acts of monstrosity burned a hole in Jameson's heart. And then having to witness the same ordeals against them shook him even further.

Quite a bit of Jameson's past, especially concerning his latter time spent as an army chaplain remains under lock and key. He often attempts to convince himself that it's merely out of politeness; you don't tell people the horrors you've seen out of respect. It's more than difficult to accept those horrors that have swiftly become a part of you. Jameson is no exception to the rule and refuses to touch upon the things he's witnessed because he's scared - frightened of it and what he could have done to stop it, but didn't.

Guilt drives people to do a lot of things and it drives them to refuse a lot of things, as well.

Upon arriving home, Jameson packed up, gathered everything he had accumulated, and simply refused to go anywhere near his memories beyond that point. He quickly moved to the west coast, used what money he'd saved up, and applied to a college there. Everything up to that point had been mindless. He picked a major to study in, trucked through his courses, and got a job after graduating. Nothing really registered until he'd gotten a call announces the death of both his parents. To cancer, they said. They would read the will and dole out what was left to him and any other immediate family.

Knowing they had no legacy to acquire their company, the Jones sold it to a competing company, liquidized their assets, sold their share of the stock, and essentially gave everything to their child. They had absolutely no reason to and to this day, James still tries to wrap his head around the why of it. He's become accustomed to simply letting it be, for now. With everything, James sold the many mansions and villas his parents had spread across the world and simply took the one they seemed to live in most frequently. It felt weird giving everything up, selling it, and having all this money to deal with. James didn't want it, but didn't find a reason to lose it, quite so much as just save it for when he needed it. Thus, he packed up and left for the rather grand manor in Lakewood Summit.

Why, Jameson couldn't divulge. They had a number of memories spread around the house. He didn't want to admit it, but there was a lot of things he missed about his parents, mainly in the things they'd grown to love or kept. Namesakes and things he'd stumbled upon rummaging through various closets and storage rooms. Perhaps once he finds everything, he'll leave, though that's quite a bit of ground to cover. And as he gets closer to finding the pieces his parents left behind, Jameson finds he's quite torn with just leaving it all behind. Selling everything. Letting it all go. It seems almost wrong and while he certainly doesn't fit into the surroundings he's found himself in, Jameson is quite content in just settling in for the time being.[/indent]

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[center][color=#c17171]❯[/color][color=#c88383]❯[/color][color=#d09494][color=#d09494]❯[/color][/color][color=d8a6a6] [u]O C C U P A T I O N[/u] [/color][color=#d09494]❮[/color][color=#c88383]❮[/color][color=#c17171]❮[/color][/center]

[indent][color=a6d8d8]▻[/color] Inherited family money and home; after army, went to school for marine biology as a quick, impulsive decision. Specializes in whales and love just about every bit of it. Works for a University that travels every few times a year to study in the Pacific.[/indent]

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[center][color=#c17171]❯[/color][color=#c88383]❯[/color][color=#d09494]❯[/color][color=d8a6a6] [u]H O B B I E S[/u] [/color][color=#d09494]❮[/color][color=#c88383]❮[/color][color=#c17171]❮[/color][/center]

[indent][color=a6d8d8]▻[/color] Jogging/Fitness - Routine helps Jameson clear his head, especially if it directs his focus solely one what he's doing. Going to the gym at the Country Club and just jogging around the neighbor help lighten his thoughts and his mood.

[color=a6d8d8]▻[/color] Baking - After his return to America, Jameson did a lot of just wandering around. A lot of his time consisted of taking classes around the city he lived in before word of his parents' death. One of those happened to be a culinary class; baking was among the few he really took to. Now he bakes whenever he's feeling depressed or out of it.

[color=a6d8d8]▻[/color] Volunteer Work - Wherever Jameson can get it on his time off, he'll put in pletny of hours just simply volunteering, especially around the University he works for.

[color=a6d8d8]▻[/color] Dancing - Tap dancing in particular, as well as tango and salsa. Like the baking thing, it's among the few things Jameson took upon himself to learn. Of course, it's one of those private things and he'll usually indulge only when he's alone, though he can sometimes be bribed to dance with a partner.

[color=a6d8d8]▻[/color] Book Club - Well, someone's gotta taste test his wonderful pastries and who better than an entire reading club? Not that he doesn't actually participate because he does and it's a great way to make friends and all that jazz. It's just that most of the people already there hardly interact with him, and only when the head of the book club directly asks him anything. What more, the majority of the club's attendees tend to treat Jameson as if he doesn't exist outside of the club. Ah, at least they eat his treats.[/indent]


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[center][color=#c17171]❯[/color][color=#c88383]❯[/color][color=#d09494]❯[/color][color=d8a6a6] [u]R E L A T I O N S H I P S[/u] [/color][color=#d09494]❮[/color][color=#c88383]❮[/color][color=#c17171]❮[/color][/center]

[indent][color=a6d8d8]▻[/color] [color=d8a6a6][b]Character’s Name 1[/b][/color] – [i]relationship[/i] – Brief description of relationship[/indent][/hider][/color]

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[color=d3d3d3][hider=John Aldman][center][hr][hr][img]http://fontmeme.com/embed.php?text=Johnathon%20F.%20Aldman&name=Diner-Regular.ttf&size=100&style_color=EDC0D9[/img][hr][hr]

[img]http://67.media.tumblr.com/a8152cfaa34905a948705a8f7bcc96f9/tumblr_nfykilmmFK1sqf0kmo1_500.png[/img]

[img]http://67.media.tumblr.com/8daab04861d857a7e5855c72b211e943/tumblr_nfykilmmFK1sqf0kmo2_500.png[/img]
[h3][sub][color=#ca488f]❯[/color] [color=#d05b9b]❯[/color] [color=#d56fa7]❯[/color] [color=#f9fdfb]❚[/color] [color=#db83b3]Fox[/color] [color=#e5f8ee]❚[/color] [color=#e097bf]Forty - Seven[/color] [color=#d2f2e0]❚[/color] [color=#e6aacb]Single[/color] [color=#beecd3]❚[/color] [color=#ecbed7]Grey-Asexual[/color] [color=#aae6c6]❚[/color] [color=#f2d2e3]Male[/color] [color=#97e0b8]❚[/color] [color=#f8e5ef]❮[/color] [color=#fdf9fb]❮[/color] [color=#fcfdfd]❮[/color][/sub][/h3]
[hr][img]http://67.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_mbsm4jqB091r5r8duo8_r1_250.gif[/img]    [img]http://66.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_mbsm4jqB091r5r8duo10_r1_250.gif[/img]

[img]http://67.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_mbsm4jqB091r5r8duo7_r1_250.gif[/img]    [img]http://67.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_mbsm4jqB091r5r8duo9_r2_250.gif[/img]
[sub][color=#ffffff]❯[/color] [color=#fdf9fb]❯[/color] [color=#fdf9fb]❯[/color] [color=#83dbab]❚[/color]  [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9DD7VIKZnGA][color=#f8e5ef]Suddenly Seymour - Little Shop of Horror[/color][/url] [color=#97e0b8]❚[/color] [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x2tjQ3vnMhU][color=#f2d2e3]You're the Top - Anything Goes[/color][/url] [color=#aae6c6]❚[/color] [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-UTlRZNhar0][color=#ecbed7]On Any Sunday - Footloose[/color][/url] [color=#beecd3]❚[/color] [color=#e6aacb]❮[/color] [color=#e097bf]❮[/color] [color=#db83b3]❮[/color][/sub][hr][/center]
[center][color=#fdf9fb]❯[/color][color=#f8e5ef]❯[/color][color=#f2d2e3]❯[/color][color=#ecbed7] [u]A P P E A R A N C E[/u] [/color][color=#f2d2e3]❮[/color][color=#f8e5ef]❮[/color][color=#fdf9fb]❮[/color][/center]

[indent][color=#beecd3]▻[/color] Cutting a tight figure, even in his old age, there's only a few things that distinctly stand out about Johnathon. The almost giddy, bursting with energy vibration that settles deep in his gut, evident in every line and movement of his body. And the undeniable limp (occasionally accompanied by a cane) and odd twist of his hips and right leg when he moves. Even then, with the contrast of his vibrancy to his obvious crippled state, Johnathon has no issues standing out. In the cut of his attire to the way he holds himself, Johnathon has a demanding attention that begs for a spare glance his way.

Most of the time, it's rather difficult to see the wealth that oozes from his very fingertips. He's not dipping caviar, or driving vintage muscle cars, and he's certainly not toting around expensive casual wear like he's suddenly young and hip again. No, Johnathon doesn't see the fun in materialism, both the philosophy (as he's quite spiritual, by nature) and the attitude. His mother always joked about having the hardest time getting him in a simple button up. Johnathon goes for comfort and self-assurance over the idea that people have opinions. His casual attire ranges from nice sweatpants to cozy sweaters; perhaps a morning jog in just a pair of shorts; perhaps he'll lounge around his home in a robe and some old boxers.

Unfortunately, Johnathon's job does demand he come in wearing a suit and tie, mostly because they'd rather not have him coming in wearing a pair of Homer Simpson pajama bottoms or a onesie - more risk and potential of seeing an old man's junk. That's where his custom, bespoke outfits come into play and he has two for every day of the week just because it's fairly easy to alternate between this one and then that ever other week. Less time spent at the dry cleaners is more time spent doing whatever the hell he wants.[/indent]

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[center][color=#fdf9fb]❯[/color][color=#f8e5ef]❯[/color][color=#f2d2e3]❯[/color][color=#ecbed7] [u]P E R S O N A L I T Y[/u] [/color][color=#f2d2e3]❮[/color][color=#f8e5ef]❮[/color][color=#fdf9fb]❮[/color][/center]

[indent][color=#beecd3]▻[/color] You know what people envy the most, these days? Pure, unadulterated, visceral happiness. Genuine sincerity. Having and wanting for nothing, but getting it anyways. Or perhaps befalling a tragedy and coming out of it simply turning that smiling face and chasing another dream. Soul crushing nihilism and black hole like existentialism have no meaning to a man who's just happy to be alive, live in the moment, and die having been glad to do something, however insignificant. Johnathon radiates positivity and sunshine like it absolutely oozes out of him. It might as well. Things shine bright and vibrant in his eyes - just the kind of optimist that can't seem to see a bad thing coming.

Unfortunate that, when a bad thing does come, they're rather wholly unprepared to face it. Or just naive enough to ignore it. The only fallback is their mighty resilience. Johnathon may not be adaptable, but he sure can take a beating. It's this stubbornness that both drives him and infuriates others. Bullheaded not only in his optimism and happiness, but also in his own faulty choices and ignorance. He's not used to change and doesn't like it much; he won't take change lightly unless there's no other possible options. Even then, Johnathon doesn't sit down in a resigned nature. He's fervent. He's got a fire and a passion and he'll likely trample whoever he can to keep it burning. Even if those passions are for the good of others, and usually they are - he loves to help people. What he doesn't realize is that the road to Hell is paved with good intentions. A saying his own parents drilled into him, but never quite got to stick.

At least that compassion drives him further than just stubborn predilection. Johnathon's morals have never been in question, it's just how he finds himself getting to that end goal. It's very simple for Johnathon to tunnel into one specific goal and disregard everything else - his morality be damned. But, he'll fight for it gladly, even when there's absolutely no reason to. Even when he should run in order to come back stronger than before. Johnathon has absolutely no will and no resolve to back down; he'll stand until he dies. And sadly, that's a very, very true statement as he's had to been forced down by more than a few colleagues and friends. Just doesn't quite know when to give up. Perhaps that's a good thing. Perhaps it's one of his many, great flaws.[/indent]

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[center][color=#fdf9fb]❯[/color][color=#f8e5ef]❯[/color][color=#f2d2e3]❯[/color][color=#ecbed7] [u]H I S T O R Y[/u] [/color][color=#f2d2e3]❮[/color][color=#f8e5ef]❮[/color][color=#fdf9fb]❮[/color][/center]

[indent][color=#beecd3]▻[/color] Gathering everything and leaving had to be among the hardest decisions Johnathon has ever made. Having lived and loved and a multitude of many other things in Bowness, Cumbria in England, leaving meant breaking ties with everything and everyone there. Perhaps that was a necessary step in his journey. After all, he owed his mother, a single widow trying to do right by her dead husband, that much just for raising him. Johnathon, looking back, could very well say he was not the kind of child anyone would have wanted. He was loud, obnoxious, too full of energy and prone to fits of hyper activity ever two damn minutes. He wore his mother out, but she still poured affection over him in droves.

Yet, she somehow knew he wouldn't stay for very long. Johnathon's predilection to music appeared very early in his formative years. He bumbled around singing whatever he'd heard that day, not really conscious of the words and the notes coming out of his mouth until the start of primary. Finding out that he could have a career in it? That was absolutely the end of days for his mother. She wouldn't stop hearing about it, how he'd become a singer, a rock star, or a performer. An entertainer, when he got fed up thinking of new singing professions to talk about.

So, of course, by the end of his year in secondary school, Johnathon took a year gathering as much money as he could and then promptly leaving for the states. Leaving everything behind at a blind shot at stardom. His eyes had been set for Hollywood, but sadly he'd stopped somewhere in downtown Manhattan. Immediately, Johnathon knew he was absolutely fucked, but he went on regardless and he smiled no matter what happened. His mother taught him that. "The world throws eggs at you. Throws rotten, spoiled things. They want to hurt you with words and knifes and stones," she'd say, stern and with her hands on her hips and a fire burning her chest, "You smile. You smile and tell them thank you. Have a nice day. And don't give them an ounce of oil for their fuel. Love and you love with your whole heart."

And people did hate him. They cursed at him, called him names, made fun of his accent even and the way he talked. Johnathon didn't know yet what to do with his life aside from find a roommate or ten to split the bills with and find a job that he loved. The first job, however, definitely wouldn't be something he'd find himself working years later. But he smiled, because what can you do as a waiter in some ragtag diner down in Soho? Oh and people would rip into him for getting the wrong order, for tripping on his shoelaces, for stuttering when nervous. But he smiled, handed them their bill and fully expected them not to tip. He still hoped they had a great meal and a greater day.

Every day he'd grow closer to his goal. Hollywood was just a few more scrubs on this table away. Of course, until Hollywood didn't matter anymore. One of his roommates kindly shoved a pamphlet to an off-broadway production of Hamlet. [I]Hamlet[/I] of all things. No singing, just quite a bit of memorized lines about potential suicide and a lot of angst in a small plot of land somewhere in Denmark. It paid alright. Would be like busting ten tables down at Betty's. So, Johnathon took it, landed the lead part as Hamlet, and absolutely blew his audience away. The rush and exhilaration of having people stand up for you, applause, and cheer, even just a small run down theatre with those lousy, tin-aluminum, whatever fold up chairs. That feeling fueled him.

It took years before Johnathon even got a small whiff of a chance, an opportunity, to do something beyond himself in scope. A showing of Anything Goes and by some dumb chance he landed Billy Crocker after somehow stunning the director with a rendition of [i]You're the Top[/i], with the assistant director, after a few bars of a song of his choice. The entire thing was absolutely overwhelming and it gave Johnathon a high he didn't realize he needed. He broke into the Broadway stage like he'd just been set ablaze and he took his opportunity, slung it over his shoulder, and road that rocket all the way to absolute stardom.

He made it big like he knew he would, with every bit his dignity and his talents in tact. And after gaining enough recognition and money, he honed all of those talents and made himself even better. Johnathon wouldn't always get away with just having the raw talent that earned him his first few leads on Broadway; he knew that and he built on what he had.

For years, Johnathon took to the stage and did what he did best and continued doing so for years after. Of course, that could essentially sum up the more lavish part of his young life. It only turned downhill after he'd peaked, or, at least he lived part of his dream and the rest came crashing down. Johnathon wanted to spend his life on the stage, doing exactly what he loved until he physically couldn't walk anymore. Unfortunately, that happened a little sooner than he thought.

After almost reaching the heights of his career, Johnathon landed a spot on Footloose as Ren McCormack. During one of the rehearsals, a week before the show would light up the Broadway stage, one of the set pieces fell loose - a faulty screw or bad wiring, who knew. It crashed headlong into Johnathon, having seen the piece too late and attempting to dive out of the way. It shattered every bone in his body and part of his spine, earning him a good few months in the hospital.

Being the optimist, Johnathon figured he'd heal up and go right back to the stage, dancing his feet of and singing until his lungs burst. The doctors didn't see it as such and the moment they'd announced he'd be paralyzed from the waist down his whole life, his world completely crashed - no, it burned up before it even broke the earth's atmosphere.

The news hit him hard and after a few days after leaving the hospital's care, he moved back to the UK in order to find care with his mother. Those few days, the plane ride, the car ride, his mother crying on his motionless lap, all passed in a black, grey blur. It took a month of introspection and a sedentary life for Johnathon to regain even a portion of his positive outlook. His optimism wouldn't come back fully, never after such a tragedy, but if anyone failed to just lie down and take it, it was Johnathon.

Every day, from that moment on, Johnathon actively worked to regain the motion in his legs. He took the train to London for weekly appointments with a physical therapist who had more than a few doubts. The drive and will, the determination that burned in his chest compelled him to keep trying. To keep rising from his wheelchair and trying his damn hardest to take just one step. It took years of recovery to even move his legs and many more down the line before Johnathon turned a tragedy, a dream gone terribly wrong, into one of success and miracles. But miracles had nothing to do with it. Johnathon had every bit the drive and motivation to stand on his two feet again and keep moving - to never stop once he started. Until he was no longer stumbling, but walking; no longer walking, but running.

Of course, it eventually stopped there; his legs fully healed, but his right one didn't quite heal properly. He could move, run even, do extensive exercises a few times a week, though he worked with less time to curb the intolerable pain. However, his right leg didn't quite move as it once did and the doctors he went to found it far too risky to attempt breaking and resetting the bone, especially since they'd practically have to shatter nearly the entire length of it and possibly his hip too. Johnathon resigned to that, at the very least. He couldn't do as much as he once could, but at least he could still sing and belt with the best of them.

Eventually, Johnathon found a new passion and a new life. When one door closed, he simply picked himself up (after so many years) and turned toward another one. Life was filled with a variety of adventures, some small and others large. Eventually some would end, sometimes prematurely, but until he lay buried six feet under, there'd always be another one on the horizon.

Johnathon soon found himself in business classes and various others oriented to music, got a bachelor's degree and began producing music. He occasionally produced his own, but he mostly catered to other musicians, taking whatever work he could find from others. Rock, jazz, pop, even a dabble in synth and techno from an eccentric German band. It wasn't until he'd found himself molding his own business and operations did Johnathon find that streak he'd been missing. He eventually led himself to Los Angeles, producing for a big record company downtown while occasionally hosting a radio show.

This time, Johnathon brought his aging mother and allowed her to settle in a better home in [i]Lakewood Summit[/i]. He wanted only the best for her as she experienced the twilight ages of her years. She's still kicking, even in her late seventies, but she's recently requested to settle down in a retirement home not far from Lakewood. Again, Johnathon only paid for the best when it concerned his mother and she got just that. He currently, frequently visits her on the weekends and always plays her one of her favorite Beatles songs, [i]Here Comes the Sun[/i] whenever he knows for sure she's tuning into the station he's currently co-hosting. At the moment, life could certainly not be better, but for Johnathon, most of his life is just a pocket full of sunshine.[/indent]

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[center][color=#fdf9fb]❯[/color][color=#f8e5ef]❯[/color][color=#f2d2e3][color=#f2d2e3]❯[/color][/color][color=#ecbed7] [u]O C C U P A T I O N[/u] [/color][color=#f2d2e3]❮[/color][color=#f8e5ef]❮[/color][color=#fdf9fb]❮[/color][/center]

[indent][color=#beecd3]▻[/color] A former Broadway star, having won three Tonys for his best musicals. He's most known for his rendition of Seymour from Little Shop of Horrors, as well as J. Pierrepont Finch in [i]How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying[/i].

At the moment, he's a music producer for a big name record company in downtown LA, where he frequently commutes. Though, he mostly works at home, Johnathon co-hosts a radio show on Friday and Saturday mornings before he goes to visit his mother, Coleen.[/indent]

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[center][color=#fdf9fb]❯[/color][color=#f8e5ef]❯[/color][color=#f2d2e3]❯[/color][color=#ecbed7] [u]H O B B I E S[/u] [/color][color=#f2d2e3]❮[/color][color=#f8e5ef]❮[/color][color=#fdf9fb]❮[/color][/center]

[indent][color=#beecd3]▻[/color] [color=#f2d2e3]Singing (and some Dancing)[/color] - Oh, Johnathon adores singing. Any song really. Just give him a name and a band or a person, perhaps a show, and he'll do his best to show it some justice. He'll often slide onto the piano bench in the Country Club to simply hammer out a small number and be on his way. He also, often, attempts to dance one out, but it's hell on his damage legs and joints, so he keeps from exerting too much stress on it.

[color=#beecd3]▻[/color] [color=#f2d2e3]Fitness[/color] - As much as is humanly possible for Johnathon. He can still definitely train his upper body, and to some extent his lower body, but cardio's very hard without a proper leg to work on. Of course, he does his absolutely best to keep fit and keep a healthy diet and, while he wasn't the musclebound young lad he was, he's not actually quite far off.

[color=#beecd3]▻[/color] [color=#f2d2e3]Concerts/Plays/Musicals[/color] - Anything with a stage and music or preforming, you'll find Johnathon in the front row. He's also quite an avid lover of art and peruses through LA's many glorious art galleries. It's evident from his assortment of art decor lining his home walls.

[color=#beecd3]▻[/color] [color=#f2d2e3]Gardening[/color] - Ah, bending down and getting back up puts a helluva strain on his back, but he makes due. He loves planting his own herb garden, seeing what's in season, getting lovely, ripe, nice and juicy tomatoes or watermelons or pumpkins. But, also making sure his front yard looks spot on; of course, he has a number of gardeners to assist in matters, but Johnathon isn't afraid to dirty his knees.[/indent]


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[center][color=#fdf9fb]❯[/color][color=#f8e5ef]❯[/color][color=#f2d2e3]❯[/color][color=#ecbed7] [u]R E L A T I O N S H I P S[/u] [/color][color=#f2d2e3]❮[/color][color=#f8e5ef]❮[/color][color=#fdf9fb]❮[/color][/center]

[indent][url=http://www.oldpicz.com/picz/2016/02/Audrey-Hepburn%E2%80%99s-beautiful-photos-at-age-63-08.jpg][b][color=#beecd3]Coleen Wight Aldman[/color][/b][/url] – [i]mother[/i] – A direly old lady who's slowly deteriorating in a nursing home a thirty minute drive from Lakewood Summit. Of course, she retains her memory and is as fiery as ever, especially when her son visits.[/indent]
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[color=d3d3d3][hider=Hayden Hawthorne][center][hr][hr][img]http://txt-dynamic.static.1001fonts.net/txt/b3RmLjgwLmE2YjFkOC5TR0Y1WkdWdUlFaGhkM1JvYjNKdVpRLCwuMAAA/arellion.regular.png[/img][hr][hr]
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[sub][color=#edeff7]❯[/color] [color=#dbe0ef]❯[/color] [color=#c9d0e8]❯[/color] [color=#e8c9d0]❚[/color]  [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VJDJs9dumZI][color=#b8c1e0]Beatles - While My Guitar Gently Weeps[/color][/url] [color=#e0b8c1]❚[/color] [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A_MjCqQoLLA][color=#a6b1d8]Beatles - Hey Jude[/color][/url] [color=#d8a6b1]❚[/color] [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mo_DMGc2v5o][color=#94a1d0]Blackbird - Beatles[/color][/url] [color=#d094a1]❚[/color] [color=#8392c8]❮[/color] [color=#7182c1]❮[/color] [color=#5f72b9]❮[/color][/sub]
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[center][color=#7182c1]❯[/color][color=#8392c8]❯[/color][color=#94a1d0]❯[/color][color=#a6b1d8] [u]A P P E A R A N C E[/u] [/color][color=#94a1d0]❮[/color][color=#8392c8]❮[/color][color=#7182c1]❮[/color][/center]

[indent][color=#a6cad8]▻[/color] Feet like obsidian and pressed suit swirling in oily black - a reluctant business man. People wear things like armor; Hayden wears his suits like a fortress, all cold steal and granite rock. He stands upright with the attentiveness of a man seeking foreclosures and partnerships, throwing around trade jargon like he knows it. A figure worthy of a portrait, sucking the age from his youthful face. Your average Dorian Gray. An entire closet set fills with a number of purely tailored, bespoke suits and hand crafted shoes, passed down from a father near perfectly his size, yet so garishly different. Hayden remains a contrast to his father and looks ill-fitted in suits pressed and tailored to his near, exact size. They aren't his. It's like wearing another's skin and it crawls, sinks its hooks into him.

Like many people, Hayden has his moments and his ticks. Idiosyncrasies that identify him in a crowd so he can't quite blend. They've changed since he was young and full of hope. The grinding, slide of his jaw as his eyes glaze in thought. His posture running ramrod straight in a chair, leg folded crisply over the other. The near, inaudible hum in the back of his throat that vibrates his jaw. His eyes pierce and his lips, thin and chapped, strain with frown lines that crease his jowls - a set under his prominent cheekbones that would practically puff up with a smile, now only contrast with the sunken, tired look in his eyes.

Routine dulls him, but keeps his body healthy and his mind relatively stable. Hayden looks for distractions prominently, in a futile attempt to nullify the grayness hanging over him. It keeps his curve sleek, allows him to slide into his suits without much effort and come out cutting a sharp figure. His height's average and his weight one mainly consisting of muscle. Hair feels thinner, shorter, and his face lacks the glow it used to, though the fairness remains. He doesn't like comfortable; he doesn't need it.[/indent]

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[center][color=#7182c1]❯[/color][color=#8392c8]❯[/color][color=#94a1d0]❯[/color][color=#a6b1d8] [u]P E R S O N A L I T Y[/u] [/color][color=#94a1d0]❮[/color][color=#8392c8]❮[/color][color=#7182c1]❮[/color][/center]

[indent][color=#a6cad8]▻[/color] What's a man with nothing to lose and nothing to gain? Better off dead. And yet he finds a reason, at least, in protecting someone he loves. Noble, if selfish, though he would argue, vehemently, against the notion.

Among the many siblings, Hayden, perhaps, comes across as the most tragic casualty. A tally on his parents' count of dead dreams. The first among the Hawthornes - perhaps, the first in a lot of things. In his youth, Hayden wanted for nothing, at least nothing that his parents could offer him. Much like his father, Hayden's independence struck fast and struck hard. For an unassuming young man, many didn't expect the viciousness to which Hayden dictated his own life. He snipped ties and bonds without much thought to feelings other than his own. Most of the time, he wandered blindly towards his many goals.

What differentiated Hayden from other rebellious teens and runaways was just how savvy, how adaptable, and how resilient he was. Or, perhaps, simply how utterly bullheaded and ruthless he became in the light of his own wants and desires. Much the conman his father had been, though with less want for the ambition that made the Hawthornes a household name. Hayden, unlike his father, knew the benefits of contentment and once he'd achieved what he set out to do, Hayden settled.

When lacking the passion and cruelty that motivated his waking moments, Hayden would make an ultimate switch. A kind of lack of desire to move on from what he'd accomplished. It infuriated his father, who had so desired his children to not only succeed in general, but succeed in toppling him, besting him, usurping him. Hayden achieved his vindication and found contentment in that. He didn't push himself forward, didn't decide to climb the next few rungs in light of simply staying on these few comfy pegs.

That's where Acacia came in. Of all of his siblings, Hayden adored the youngest the most. A dire weakness that his father took advantage of. The ultimatum his father set for him forced Hayden into a state of introspection. Ultimately, Hayden evolved beyond the perpetual, snob of a rebellious teenager into an off-hand mirror of his own father. Taking up the mantle, the corporation, in light of his father's death, threw Hayden into a fortress of himself and locked him inside. Jaded, cynical, stoic; a dull, permanent gray in a dim landscape.[/indent]

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[center][color=#7182c1]❯[/color][color=#8392c8]❯[/color][color=#94a1d0]❯[/color][color=#a6b1d8] [u]H I S T O R Y[/u] [/color][color=#94a1d0]❮[/color][color=#8392c8]❮[/color][color=#7182c1]❮[/color][/center]

[indent][color=#a6cad8]▻[/color] At some point in our lives a decision has to be made and a road needs crossing. It is entirely up to us how we perceive these changes to our core selves and whether or not we accept them.

Among ten children, the Hawthorne legacy was quite a thing to live up to. Ten children, and just one to take the a pivotal role in succeeding what the Hawthorne name stood for. The unfortunate part of having children so undeniably like himself, was the inevitability of a mini-Hawthorne revolution. None of the children wanted the mantle. None of the children wanted anything to do with their own parents.

The first one, Hayden, had been the most groomed to succeed. He was also the most like his father, just with his mother's knack for subversion. He was also the first to feel burned by both parents' obvious neglect, hubris, and avarice. From the point of his realization on, Hayden sought only to dismantle everything his father stood for and to find the best seat to watch his beloved company burn.

This undeniable game of cat and mouse began in Hayden's first year of college. Like his father desired, he'd studied business and a number of other suitable things - foreign languages, humanities, computational skills. After his graduation, his father signed him right up as an intern for their company. They handled a manufacturing business for energy companies; they practically monopolized a number of resources in Northern America and Europe. They specialized in building and maintaining Nuclear Reactors. All of it on the back of his father, making the company fairly recent, though only by forty or so years.

After a number months, Hayden made a switch to a rival company, gathering all of his father's data and liquidizing his own share of the stock. He invested every penny, knowing full well it might all go to waste. Wanting his father's rival to succeed wasn't his intention; seeing his father seething made, boiling over with rage, and wanting his head on a pike was his priority. Knowing full well his father would find it cowardly to take these matters on legally, Hayden made the information exchange in order to gain a more prestigious seat within the corporation. He cared little for the money, the title, or the company - he just wanted to see his father burn.

At every step and interval, ever business transaction made and meeting handled, Hayden was always a step ahead of his own father. He sank a number of time in ruining much of daddy Hawthorne's investments, wooing a number of investors over with sweet words and sweeter deals. Much of the time, he found a number of underhanded ways to accomplish such. His father's stock plummeted a number of times and many of the land he'd acquired through business deals quickly faded on the European frontier. It all culminated to a number of technological advancements that mirrored his father's own. Being the first to accomplish them, patent them, and use them, it barred his father from utilizing his own R&D's progress.

Hayden's greatest accomplish was indeed sending his father over the edge. After stealing precious ideas and resources from right under his nose, Hayden's father finally took legal action, albeit in a very conniving, underhanded way. He ultimately annihilated his rival company through a number of environmental concerns, evidence of mishandling of hazard and toxic material, and a number of embezzling scandals directly tied to the CEO, CFO, and co-founder. Hayden simply walked away, knowing full well he did exactly what he'd set to accomplish.

At that, Hayden cut all ties to his family, aside from his sister and a few other siblings. While infuriated, much of what Hayden had done impressed his father, earning him a place reserved for just an incredibly short list of people his father had. That was quickly dashed away at Hayden's insistence on leaving it at that - going so far and just being alright with the outcome, not taking a step further in whatever direction he chose. Though, Hayden would argue he did take that step, it was just the step his father didn't want him to take. So, perhaps it was a last act of defiance from him.

Regardless, Hayden buggered off to a small college in Maine, acquired an English degree and a teaching license and settled in the outskirts of Augusta. All of his earnings had been locked away in a savings account and would remain untouched for quite some time. Hayden wanted a quite life after everything had been said and done and he was determined to achieve that. Contentment had been something Hayden always wanted; teaching was another thing he always wanted, but that aside, his father's own suffering came first.

For the next few years, he kept in close touch with his youngest sister, who confided in him quite a few things most of his other siblings, much less his parents, had no idea of. It didn't further escalate until Acacia was set to graduate from high school. She wanted art and paintings, galleries and studios, yet her father insisted she take over the company after she graduated from university. Hayden hadn't realized the plans until she'd told him. She likely hadn't told him for awhile, until it was nearly too late to change her own course, for the exact purpose she was wanting to prevent. Hayden took the issue with his father, who'd regaled him with a reminder that she was the last of his siblings, all of which disowned any responsibility to the Hawthorne legacy.

Infuriated, Hayden set up an appointment with his father, taking a plane to fly the few hours it took to reach his family business in LA. His father gave him an ultimatum: either Acacia take charge of the Hawthorne Corporation, effectively crushing everything that made Acacia who she was, or Hayden would take it, as he should have, and tap into that Hawthorne ambition his father knew was still there. Hayden reluctantly agreed, to which his father notified him of his impending death. He was losing a battle to stomach cancer, which the doctors didn't find until it was much too late. He had approximately three months left to live, giving Hayden three months to pack and move into his new, Lakewood Summit home that his father picked especially for him.

Hayden seethed, but complied, and in those three months, he found himself resigning to his fate. Perhaps this was what it had all been coming down to. He'd had his fun in the sun, got what he wanted from his father, and now he'd have to accept the consequences of his actions.

His father died behind schedule, a few months after his allotted day of death. The contents of the will had been doled out, Acacia would still attend Stanford, Hayden acquired a number of money, the Lakewood home, and a percentage of Hawthorne Corps' stock. Most importantly, he gained the family business and lost most, if not all, of himself in the process.[/indent]

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[center][color=#7182c1]❯[/color][color=#8392c8]❯[/color][color=#94a1d0][color=#94a1d0]❯[/color][/color][color=#a6b1d8] [u]O C C U P A T I O N[/u] [/color][color=#94a1d0]❮[/color][color=#8392c8]❮[/color][color=#7182c1]❮[/color][/center]

[indent][color=#a6cad8]▻[/color] CEO and owner of Hawthorne Energy Corporation based in downtown LA.[/indent]

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[center][color=#7182c1]❯[/color][color=#8392c8]❯[/color][color=#94a1d0]❯[/color][color=#a6b1d8] [u]H O B B I E S[/u] [/color][color=#94a1d0]❮[/color][color=#8392c8]❮[/color][color=#7182c1]❮[/color][/center]

[indent][color=#a6cad8]▻[/color] [color=#dbe0ef]Fiction Writing[/color] - in Hayden's spare time, if he can find any, he often chips away at the novel he's wishing to someday get published. Under a pen name, of course; he wants the feeling of actually succeeding in selling a good book, rather than just plastering his name on something to make it sell.
[color=#a6cad8]▻[/color] [color=#dbe0ef]Country Club Fitness/Gym[/color] - Hayden perhaps spends quite a bit of time losing himself in a rigorous work out routine. He pushes himself undoubtedly hard and tends to forget that he has a threshold, which he often exceeds. A number of his injuries can be explained through simply forgetting that he can't run for 17 miles a day.
[color=#a6cad8]▻[/color] [color=#dbe0ef]Stargazing[/color] - something he'd indulged Acacia in for one of her birthdays, her twelfth to be exact, and ever since it's become tradition for them. When his head's feeling too full and he wants nothing more than to jump off a goddamn skyscraper to silence the ceaseless buzzing, Hayden drives himself as far out into the country or mountains as he can and pitches up a small fort of blankets to watch the stars on.
[color=#a6cad8]▻[/color] [color=#dbe0ef]Assists and Volunteers for the Academy[/color] - unfortunately, Hayden can't seem to stay away from academia and he does his best to free up time to assist Lakewood Academy in anything they require, or need more hands to help with. Mostly it's just finding people who are willing to pitch in for a potluck here and there when the school itself won't provide meals.[/indent]


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[center][color=#7182c1]❯[/color][color=#8392c8]❯[/color][color=#94a1d0]❯[/color][color=#a6b1d8] [u]R E L A T I O N S H I P S[/u] [/color][color=#94a1d0]❮[/color][color=#8392c8]❮[/color][color=#7182c1]❮[/color][/center]

[indent][url=http://i.makeagif.com/media/4-25-2016/vnrNVj.gif][b][color=#a6cad8]Acacia Hawthorne[/color][/b][/url] – [i]little sister[/i] – They talk via whatever IM service they can, if they don't directly call. They're both extremely close, and Hayden likes to take up a mentor role for his sister, but also acts as her confidant, and to some extent... perhaps even the father she never had the opportunity to get to know.

[url=https://media.giphy.com/media/uAOm7F2db3DLa/giphy.gif][b][color=#a6cad8]Elise Hawthorne[/color][/b][/url] – [i]mother[/i] – A fashionista and a very strong woman, with her hand directly in the fashion industry. She's not to be trifled with and Hayden has a very thin relationship with her. They only ever talk because she requires monthly reports on how Hawthorne Corps is doing. (She ultimately loves her son to death)[/indent]
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