Post by ryan on Nov 17, 2011 15:39:20 GMT -5
ryan zen venten
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: none;,true][cs=2][atrb=width,300] hey there. the name's ryan zen venten! i go by ry, venten too if you were wondering. also i'll have you know that i am twenty-four & loving it. oh. you've heard that I'm heterosexual? & that I'm from dublin, ireland? well the rumors are true for once. well I gotta get going, the gang is calling. see ya'! history Alright, then, you asked for it. I don't normally like talking about my past too much because it sounds like I'm just bitching about it. But it all started when the sperm donor, or as some people try to call it my father, met my sweet innocent mother on a playground when she was ten and he was twelve in Dublin, Ireland. For some reason she couldn't get enough of him. They were inseparable, so I've heard, and were supposedly soulmates, but who really believes that bullshit in today's society anyway? Well, he wasn't such a good kid and my mother would believe anything that came out of that man's mouth. He took her virginity and with that he impregnated her with twins, this is where Criyh and I come in and it gets interesting. Domanic, my sperm donor, had horrible parents from what my mother has told me, and he never lived at home anyway. He had been staying with my mother at her parent's house as a permanent guest. This all changed when they found out that my mom was pregnant. They were horrified that their sweet eleven year old little girl could be pregnant, they were hardcore baptists you see. They banned her from the house and claimed that they disowned her. Thankfully, though, my great grandparents loved my mother too much so they took her and Domanic in and helped them the best that they could. They would do anything for their little Elaina, and unfortunately they had to do the same for the father of her unborn children. So they financially supported them throughout her entire pregnancy with my brother and I and around a year after we were born. My father had a pride issue and insisted on getting a job, well his job was actually being a member of a vial gang in Dublin, yes they existed. So he tried his best, apparently, and got enough money to have a house for mom, Criyh, and me. We moved in when I was around twenty months old, I guess, and I lived in that house through most of my childhood. It wasn't exactly in the best neighborhood but all I remember was going out with my brother and my father almost daily and playing ball or something with the dogs we had. I just remember thinking everyone else's life sucked and I had the best everything in the world. Well, get this, a couple years later after moving into the house, my mom found out she was pregnant again with my little sister, Kashmere. She was freaked because, well, she had still remained in school and tried her little heart out to get through it, she was determined. This screwed with everything, though, with my parents. They thought they had everything set and finally good, but apparently God said "fuck you have more problems!" My father had to start working more and doing more jobs than he ever had before. My brother and I were always just sitting in our room waiting for dad to get home so we could play like we used to, but it didn't happen much. After Kash was born my parents seemed stressed all the time. I just remembered my father would yell at my mother for the weirdest things and she'd get upset. Well, of course, my dad was pussy whooped by my mother and would apologize for hours after he yelled. This just kept adding on and adding on until I never got to play with my dad anymore, all he did was work. I still thought the world of him, though, and remember just telling myself it was for the best, what he was doing. My brother would bitch about it constantly, not much changed there...haha...But, back to the story. Well, my father started being gone a lot more than usual and I always wondered where he was going. When I found out was when I found out he had left us for good. He got a job offer that he couldn't refuse, so says my mother. But, no, I know the real ass story. He was overwhelmed and couldn't deal with us anymore, the selfish bastard. Just to add on to my anger, I found out my mother was pregnant with my other little sister, Amora, and knew that my dad wouldn't come back for her. Thankfully, though, my mom never contacted Domanic to tell him they were going to have another little girl. Why should he have known anyway? That jackass doesn't deserve to even know my mother, much less find out she's giving birth to his fourth fucking child. He wouldn't have cared anyway... Well, years later when I was thirteen, my mom got a call from my school's principal hearing that I had tried to ferociously stab my teacher with a pair of scissors and a pencil and didn't snap out until I was held tight enough to pass out. She knew this wasn't me, but it totally was cause I had just been holding back. My brother had done something similar before me and she knew something was wrong with us and that this wasn't who she raised. But, in defense of her, she was a great mother. Those kids in books and that slit their damn wrists complain that their parents suck and that's why they are like that, well they just need to sit down and shut the fuck up. It's not your strict parent's fault, they taught you right from wrong, you just decided that magically it was too hard for you to deal with. How about those kids just admit they suck as children and it's their fault for everything. Well, mom, this is me saying you were a great mother, I just was a horrible kid to begin with. No...I would never blame my psychological issues on Domanic, it fuckin' runs in the family. So, yeah, sorry about that little rant. Like I said before, I was diagnosed by a psychologist with paranoid-delusional schizophrenia. You know the story about that, but just know they had to do a shit load of tests. A year later we moved to the States after my mom got a call from an old friend of hers saying that she could get a great job as a reporter, my mom had a degree in journalism and apparently could make great money in California. After we moved, my brother and I started going more down hill. We didn't just walk down that damn hill, we ran down it with pride. We started hearing about this gang, the Saints, and became thoroughly interested in that. The thing was, we always knew about Domanic's life in the gang back home, we just never acknowledged it, we figured it was a perfectly normal way of life. We became obsessed with wanting to join. We would always watch whenever we saw a member walk by and try to copy what they did. Eventually, we stopped caring what members already did, we wanted to be the fresh faces of the Saints and stand out. Once we turned sixteen our asses were at the tattoo shop being branded with the Saints logo and we were official members. We thought we were so badass when we first joined. But it wasn't until two years later, once we were fully accustomed to the gang life, that we truly reached our full potential in the gang. See, the best thing about me being a gang member, well most would consider it the worst, was that the drugs I took for my schizophrenia made me numb to everything, I had no conscience, no bad feelings after killing someone. So, yeah, I've killed, much more than once, wanna fight about it? Yup, a little Family Guy humor thrown in there. Back to the story, I, along with Criyh, killed the gang leader at the time and took the, I guess I will call it the thrown. We ran that town like it was our playground as kids. We would do whatever the fuck we wanted whenever we wanted and no one could stop us. My brother always had his weapons to keep him safe, but I had my fists. I was always tougher and, well I guess could say more vicious, when it came to fighting. I would only use weapons when I thought I couldn't handle someone. I could beat someone senseless then pull my gun out just to make sure they didn't get back up, why bother with them when they're already down, ya know? So, yeah, we ruled that town, no one fucked with us. All I'll say about that is that I'm a bit of a power hungry man, there is never enough control. Only problem was that the Saints could never be big enough to stretch out across the fuckin' country, so I got bored with it. As soon as I reached the peek as a leader, I didn't really want to continue with something I knew I couldn't better anymore. Well, as to how I got here, is that I found out that my uncle, Darien, was living in this strange little town. I was already bored of the gang by then, so was my brother, so we up and left. People knew better than to think we'd snitch about the gang, and we'd kill anyone who dared to try to come after us. So we decided to move here. So I've decided that I might just try to expand the Saints to be able to run this piss ass town. Only bad thing is that this petty little town's history doesn't interest me in the least, at most I'l get bored of it. Only thing keeping me here is my family, and if that was taken out of the picture I'd be back to Las Angeles scaring the shit out of people just like I did in the old days. personality A little about me...well...I am a horrible, horrible man. I'll be the first to admit that. I just could care less, I thoroughly enjoy myself, I don't really care what anyone else thinks. I pride myself on being a professional drinker, it is just my thing. Sure, I'll admit I'm an alcoholic, but there's not a damn thing I would do about it, though. Also, I have a tendency to do drugs a bit more than the regular person. I know what affects they have, know they are bad, but could care less about it. I'm more likely to die from more violent things than freakin' drugs. I've had one OD's but nothing too serious. You bored yet? Yeah thought so, so let me have a bit more fun with you. I, along with my brother and my uncle, have paranoid-delusional schizophrenia. So, in other words, I'm psycho. I have major freak outs and attack anyone near us. I have multiple, never really bothered counting, voices in my head that will constantly scream at me and drive me fucking insane until I just lash out with a breakdown. I'll beat the shit out of you and even try to kill you with no looking back and the only thing I can remember about my blackout is the bruises and scars I have from it. I was diagnosed with it when I was thirteen, even though I most likely had it for a year or so before this. The thing that separates me with my brother and uncle is that I actually take the prescribed medicine for it. My brother never did because he always just bitched and whined about not feeling anything, but honestly I liked it. Why feel anything if everything out there to feel is too painful? While on the drugs I pretty much have no emotion, I have no conscience, I am a shell of who I really could be. They numb me to the entire world and the cluster fuck inside my sick little head. I smile and laugh but it is only because I got used to forcing myself to act normal. I have not been off the drugs since I was given them at thirteen. Seeing what the voices do to my brother I have no urge to ever stop. Criyh says he feels weak when he's on them, but they make me feel invincible, nothing can hurt me. Well, you've gotten to listen to a bit of me, but I just feel like telling you some of the things I like, doesn't that just sound like a blast in a glass? Yeah...what the fuck Jersey Shore...it is simply a retarded saying. Like I already said, I am an avid drinker. Fuck A.A., that shit is for quitters. I like drinking and I'm not going to stop just because some fuck head says that it would be better for my soul. Who needs a soul anyway, what good has it ever done for me? Oh eternal damnation, well dumb ass I gained that lovely little title years ago and doubt I could ever try to relinquish it. I have a great enjoyment for sex, I'm just a very upset man without it. Yeah, I'll admit I'm a man whore. What good are relationships if there is no physical thrill. I won't lie to a girl, either. I feel that they should be just as aware of my intentions as I am that they usually just want a loving relationship. Well, sorry ladies, I could care less about holding you close in a rainstorm, I won't be there for you when you stub you're toe, and I won't go on romantic picnics along then a moonlit walk on the beach. so forget it, we can have fun, I will never lie to you, and I will buy you drinks and maybe a dinner. But anything more you can just be expected to be forgotten, never thought of again. Yeah, I know, it sounds horrible and like I'm the worst guy in the world, but didn't I already tell you I'm a horrible man? As for actual feelings, though, the only people I give two shits about are my family. I love my mother to death, she's my own personal angel sent form above, she's the one woman I'll ever cuddle up to on cold nights. My little sisters are, well, they're little sisters. They are a pain in the ass, I'd love to bang their heads against the concrete, but anyone dare fucking touch them expect to have a glock pressed against your forehead and me count down until you hear you're last noise on this planet, the click of me pulling the trigger. They're my sisters, they bug the shit outta me, but I still love them with as much as my crude little heart can manage. Now as for my brother, my sweet innocent twin baby brother Criyh...well I had my little laugh for the day. He's me, we are one in the same, and no it's not just because we're twins. You like one of us you like both of us, you piss one of us off you're definitely going to piss the other off. You try to bad mouth one of us you might as well expect the other to have a baseball bat ready to swing. He's my little brother, he's my partner in crime (no pun intended), and he's the best friend I could ever have. You say one word against him, I will hurt you, the amount of pain you will feel is determined on the mood I would be in at the time. My family is my only and my everything, without them I'd be lying in a ditch with my organs ripped out and being sold on the black market. You fuck with them, and that is where you will be. | [atrb=width,200] |
role play sample
The three year old golden retriever jumped up on the bed at her normal time every morning, which was usually always too early for Toni's liking. Feeling the furry animal crawling on the bed, the blonde girl groaned and attempted to roll away to no use. The dog nosed the blanket completely off her master and was nipping lightly at Toni's arm to attempt to wake her up again. Finally, she turned her head toward her dog and shoved her, not really knowing which part she was going for first just knew it was the dog. Sitting up, she rubbed her eyes to get them watered. She always woke up with wet eyes for some reason, her mother always told her it was because she cried in her sleep from her dreams but she never believed it. Knowing she had happy dreams most of the time.
Reaching out and patting the bed beside her, the golden retriever hopped up next to her and she wrapped her arms around the dog's neck. Pressing the side of her head against her dog's neck she yawned and stroked the dog's head gently with a sigh. Toni hated getting up early but knew she had to, if the dog had to go she had to go it wasn't like she could just see the spot and clean it up, and she hated making trouble for the cleaning staff that worked for her parents anyway.
"Every damn morning, Lyla...can't sleep in at all can I? No I can't," she said grabbing the dogs head putting her nose against Lyla's and giggles softly feeling the small touch of the dog's tongue. Leaning back and wiping the slobber from her face with the blanket she stood up and grabbed Lyla's seeing-eye dog collar and clasped it on the golden canine. It wasn't the normal harness, Toni couldn't stand those, they looked gaudy. So she just had a custom made collar that said "service dog" in red letters printed on a black cloth collar. She didn't like being obviously blind, the California-born girl thought it was just asking for pity, something she couldn't stand.
Moving to the draws she ran her fingers over them to feel the small stickers she placed to mark which drawer held what clothes. Getting dressed, having taken a shower the previous night, in a pair of boot-cut jeans and a white camisole with black low tops that she tied in the perfect bow she learned knew from a child, well she figured it looked perfect. In Antonia's mind the world looked perfect, basically the only full memories of what everything looked like was when she was a child, everything looked amazing and perfect to a child. Toni knew her surroundings probably looked nothing how she pictured them, but she could hope, at least.
Grabbing the leash from the table sitting right by the door, she made sure to remember it was there knowing damn well she'd trip over it if she forgot. Leaning down on her knees she patted her stomach for the dog to come over and press her skull against the small girl's stomach, she felt for the metal clasp and clipped the leash onto the collar. Standing up she moved toward the door and felt down the heavy metal part before she could grab the skinny handle and push it down opening it and let Lyla in front of her and held the leash taught so she could be sure of where the dog was steering her blind owner.
Feeling the wall with the tips of her fingers, just lightly, as if any normal person would just run their hand along the wall. She even made sure to look toward it every now and then as if seeing what her fingers felt going over it, simply out of habit. Toni did work so hard with appearing to have her vision, it was something she had worked on since she was a little girl knowing that she would need it when she got older. She would walk around in the dark, where she was completely blind, and do the normal things she did in the day light practicing what it would be like to have no vision what so ever. She had accepted that she would go blind at a very young age, she had no regrets but only wished there was some way she could do more adrenalin pumping activities. Toni used to love testing death as a child, but now the most mundane activity tested death for the blonde, and that might have been the only thing she hated about her life.
Getting to the stairs she carefully felt with her foot to see where each step was while holding the leash tight on Lyla. Knowing the dog had kicked into working mode, she completely trusted the golden retriever and followed every turn, stop, and move to be able to get around her beach house and out of it only having to push the door open and lock it behind her. Venturing out onto the sidewalk, she did not even bother seeing if her parents were home or calling them to tell them where she was, they could call her. She wanted a break from her parents and to just walk around the town.
After a while of walking around she decided to venture into the mall, she figured was the mall after hearing the bus driver of the local bus she always rode to town in say shopping center, and figured she could grab a bite to eat there and maybe buy some candles for her room. Sitting down at a bench in the middle of the two sides of stores, she held her smoothie that she bought upon entering the mall at an ice cream parlor in the beginning of it. Even though she couldn't see what stores she was near, she could damn well smell what food was around, and one of Lyla's favorite treats just happened to be vanilla ice cream. Moving the small ice cream cone she got for Lyla to let her lick it not caring about having her dog be in work mode while she was just sitting. She accidentally dropped the vanilla cone on the floor and it rolled for a minute until Lyla moved and stood in the middle of the walkway eating away at her ice cream, Toni just couldn't tell where her dog was standing and that she was now right in front of someone who was walking by. Only way she had any hint to it was that she could hear Lyla moving her head up and panting at the person begging to be pet and ignoring her treat.
"Lyla, move back over here you're in people's way," she whispered commandingly knowing her dog could hear and would listen unless she really was in front of someone. Feeling no dog at her side, Toni sighed and looked up to the direction of the person.
"Sorry about her, she's an attention hog," speaking kindly towards the possible stranger and moved her head to 'look' back at the dog, just in case she wasn't looking in the right direction that it wouldn't be for too long and she could give Lyla her main attention.
jonathan rhys meyers | local | emmie
made with love by you could do better @ Caution
