[@Akayaofthemoon] Well, hello there. I've been referred to this roleplay as I hear it's a good time. Hoping to join as a male Alice. I'll drop my character below, though fair warning, the backstory is dark as all hell. WITH EDITS: [hider=Drake Coleman][center][img]http://fc06.deviantart.net/fs70/i/2011/065/c/b/here_i_am_by_wakeupnaked-d3b2sl1.jpg[/img] [b]Full Name:[/b] Drake Levi Coleman [b]Age:[/b] 17 [b]Gender:[/b] Male [b]Job:[/b] None currently. [b]Previous Occupation:[/b] Street Performer Having been thrown to the streets at a young age, Drake used his guitar to make that daily dollar. Occasionally he will sing, and with an arguably decent voice despite what he says. He is, however, rather self-conscious and prefers to avoid singing as it tends to get him more questions and attention than he's really up for handling in a single day. [b]Description:[/b] Drake is a tall and lank figure, ranging around 6ft. Drake can regularly be seen wearing a white tank top and his signature sleeveless leather jacket - a gift from his father. He never takes it off, as it has become a form of constant. Other parts of his apparel include black jeans, a pair of black and white converse sneaks, fingerless motor gloves, and a chain necklace. The necklace is adorned with a sentimental jewel at the bottom, shaped like a dragon tooth but made of some kind of crystal or stone. [b]Personality:[/b] A bit of a pacifist except by means of self-defense, Drake wants to keep the peace, having grown up in a household where peace was something to be savored. That said, his temper sometimes shows its face, but he does his best to keep it under lock and key and remains generally cool-headed when unprovoked. A variety of triggers can cause the boy to lash out, as he holds true to his opinions and still has a lingering desire to be heard. Physical contact can, in some cases, make him exceedingly uneasy, and he’s been known to even flinch on occasion. Social anxiety makes it hard for Drake to goof off and let everything go, as he often finds himself feeling stiff and out of place. He still longs for friendly connection, however, and is willing to be shown a good time if given the time and patience from another. In some cases he can come off a bit cold - a defense mechanism of his - however if one earns his loyalty, there’s a much kinder, protective side to him that will begin to show its face. Deep down, Drake just wants a family to fill the hole that lingers from his childhood and finds himself constantly searching for significant bonds and approval wherever he goes. His kindness radiates in his actions more than his words and his protective nature causes him to play hero more often than not. [b]Skills:[/b] Drake is incredibly street smart. Without any real intimate, public education(as the boy was in fact home-schooled), he lacks any advantage on the intellectual spectrum over the average doe. That said, he’s learned enough from reading in his earlier days to at least fake his way up. His potential for schooling is likely far above average even if he never winds up with the resources to finish. Drake is an excellent cook, which is something he picked up on while cooking for a picky little brother. Each dish is made with precision and love, as he intends on making an impression. [b]History:[/b] [/center] Drake grew up in a seemingly normal household at first. His elder brother Jhock was quite a bit older than him, leaving a gap in their generation, but his younger brother, Kyle, was a bit closer in age. The age gap played a huge role with Drake and Kyle’s relationship, the two of them growing to be practically inseparable while Jhock adopted the role of babysitter. It was this kind of dynamic that caused problems later on. When Drake’s parents got a promotion and had to travel abroad, Jhock graduated from babysitter to caretaker. This was a lot to ask of a kid just reaching high school and Jhock wound up taking a huge psychological hit. The ported money their parents sent him was used for alcohol and drugs, and the rest was cheap, boxed meals to feed the other two in the house. Drake learned how to cook because of this, but that didn't make things any easier for them. Jhock was pretty quick to develop bad habits and sent a metaphorical middle finger to his parents, playing hookie at school and leaving Drake and Kyle home alone more often than not. Their parents rarely came to visit much, and when they did, Kyle and Drake were forced into silence by Jhock. Turns out one of the worst habits Jhock had picked up was physical abuse as a means of control. This neglect and abuse blossomed as the years went by, with Drake learning to play caretaker for his younger brother while Jhock wasn’t home and, in some cases, hiding Kyle and himself from Jhock when he was. It was rough, but at least the two had each other, and they only continued to grow closer as time passed. That was until one fateful day, when Jhock returned from god knows where, drunk and angry to find a certain someone had spilled grape juice on the carpet. It was Drake who did it, and yet enraged eyes immediately fell on Kyle as the culprit. “Jhock, no-” Their elder brother smashed a bottle against the nearest wall, glass shattering to the ground, and approached Kyle with a predatory stumble. “Jhock, it wasn’t his fault-” The elder brother’s hand shook with tension, white knuckles curled around the bottle’s neck. “Jhock, stop!” His brother had lifted the bottle, it’s green glass glinting with hostile intent. Drake, feeling he had no other choice, stepped between the two only to get knocked aside so hard he struck the ground and wound up in a daze. Everything became a blur. Drake’s interruption only threw Jhock into a blinding rage, and what happened next, well... The image of his 9 year old brother unmoving on the floor, bleeding out, not breathing... It was an image Drake had trouble getting out of his head to this day. Jhock blamed him, told the almost 15 year old kid it was all his fault and that Kyle would still be alive if he’d been a better babysitter. If he could have been stronger and able to stand up for himself. If Drake hadn’t made him angry, this wouldn’t have happened. Jhock simply couldn’t handle what he’d done and shifted the blame, but that didn’t stop Drake from feeling somehow responsible for murder while Jhock went off to shut himself inside his room. The boy was shocked, shaken, horrified. It was one thing to see someone die in a movie, but this was his goddamn brother bleeding on the floor now in front of him. How was he supposed to wrap his mind around what just happened? Did it really happen? It couldn’t have, surely this [i]wasn’t[/i] real… It took everything in him to force his gaze away after several minutes of standing there, and even then he just stared at the nearest wall as if in some kind of trance. Frozen, paralyzed. Perhaps this was his fault. All his fault. He’d spilled the grape juice. When Drake finally forced his muscles to move, too numb still to register the proper amount of direction, he wasn’t entirely sure how much time had passed or where he was going. Perhaps he should check up on his elder brother - to apologize and seek advice on how to fix everything. Yeah… That seemed like a good plan. After all, Kyle was still bleeding on the carpet downstairs. As if things couldn’t get any worse, he opened the door with a slow creak, peaking in with a heavy dose of apprehension only to be met with the image of Jhock hanging from the ceiling, a noose wound tightly around his neck. Dead. Death. So much death. Too much death. Too much. It was too much. It was all too much. It was all his fault. His fault... He had to go. Tears in his eyes, it was as if his mind switched to autopilot. He couldn’t see, he didn’t think. The boy just grabbed as many of his belongings as he could, strapped his guitar to his back, hopped on Jhock’s motorcycle and left. No drivers license, nothing. He just kept going, kept driving, no destination in sight. No goals, no future. Only numbness and a need to survive, lest he wind up like his brothers. The bike eventually ran out of gas and he ditched it on the side of the road where he finally broke down into a sobbing mess of tears. Everything he'd ever known was gone. And it was all his fault. In the long run, his guitar earned him money, and money earned him food and an occasional hot shower. He never tried for more, never felt he deserved it. The world owed him nothing, not after he’d driven his family to an end. This was his life now, his perspective. Always nervous, endlessly searching and seeking approval, to fill that hole which had grown so big. Over time he had grown more complacent, but still struggled with inner demons that never fully went away. One day, he was tuning his guitar in an old, dusty alley when he heard a noise. A sort of ticking like that of a clock. It was coming from the opposing wall, one decorated in urban artwork of a portal and other various pictures reminiscent of LSD induced trips. Setting his guitar down, he approached it, moving to lean his ear against the wall. What he didn’t expect was to fall right through it, winding up in Wonderland. [b]Other:[/b] [list][*]Drake's favorite food is steak with Slim Jims and beef jerky being a close runner up.[/list][list] [*]Drake is secretly really good with kids, but is usually too reserved to show it. [*]Drake loves to read and is fond of fantasy, as it offers him an escape from the world. [/list][/hider]