[centre][b]Name[/b]
 Ryan Fisher

[b]Age[/b] 
22

[b]Gender[/b] 
Male

[b]Appearance[/b] 
All in all, Ryan is a typical British chav - baggy jeans, plain grey hoodie, over-expensive flashy trainers and a constant troublemaker's air about him. He sports a rough unkempt beard of a light brown colour, matching his cropped hair. His eyes are a dull blue, and rimmed with bags from sleep deprivation. His face is sharp, with a short and thin nose usually wrinkled in frustration, as his forehead is also. His mouth is kept in an angry frown to warn off people who walk too close or to keep his rebellious attitude up against his family. Thin and sleek eyebrows run above Ryan's eyes, and his ears a large and distinctive against his average-looking face. Ryan is between the description of tall and short, being of a fairly normal height, though his legs are slightly longer than his torso and neck. He prides himself by always wearing a (fake) gold chain to impress the females he fails to pull. His other items of clothing change fairly regularly but keep to the section of branded clothing and caps.

[b]Personality[/b] 
Ryan has always been a [b]rebellious[/b] boy, whether in school or at home - always refusing to do work or tasks people set him. Because of this, his school life declined and declined until he found himself being thrown out of several schools from primary to high school to his brief time in college. This marks him as rather [b]uneducated[/b] and [b]idiotic[/b] in some areas, but in others he is quite skilled. Ryan is very [b]practical[/b] and knows his way around the workings of vehicles and - to an extent - martial art fighting.
By spending so much time around a rough crowd, Ryan is quick to be [b]insulting[/b] and it is tough to get past his 'hard' layer and see the independent person inside. Another product of his gang life is that he is a [b]vandal[/b] and rarely follows the law and rules he is set.

[b]Post Example[/b] 
The dim, lamp-lit streets of southern Manchester were a welcome sight to Ryan Fisher. He knew them like the back of his hand, and memories of him and his gang were found in most alleys and street corners in dropped cigarette butts or broken pieces of glass that were the remains of various alcoholic drinks he had suffered over the years. It wasn't a bright, pristine life a person would search for or go out of their way to find - but it was Ryan's, and most people who would advise him against it had given up long ago. 

Ryan had first come upon this life after he was kicked out of his third college when he was seventeen, and turned to drugs and alcohol to pass the time. This brought him contacts and soon enough every night he was with a crowd of druggies and smokers, blowing his scraps of money on something that would be gone in the morning. He had various jobs that didn't last very long over time - just to earn a bit of money - but he soon lost them as well, and he was kept alive by his mum's pity wrapped in £20 notes and sandwiches. He also had various partners, some which lasted and some which didn't, and he managed to get a run-down apartment (shared with his friend) which led to benefits and a slow stream of money coming in. Ryan plodded on for five years, repeating the cycle of lively nights and hellish mornings, junk food and the stench of weed everywhere he went. Saturday nights were a brief break, but they always ended up taking more money from him than any other day of the week. It was a lowly, pitiful life - and Ryan had his chance at a better one, but in the end this is the one he ended up with. And it wasn't likely to change any time soon. [/centre]