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Post by Olive Sweeney on Jan 16, 2012 5:12:26 GMT -6
Olive Shae Sweeney,
User;
Character;
Roleplay Sample: He hadn't wanted to come. Not because he'd had anything better to do, but because any time spent at the horrible institution of learning was more misery. And that was probably an exaggeration, if he were to be perfectly honest with himself, but it wasn't a walk in the park. In all fairness, he could have dressed nicer, smiled occasionally, and tried to make friends, as his mother reminded him over almost every dinner. There was hardly a chance at that. Since his family had moved to this miserable suburban town, he had given up trying to make friends. His mother had them move so often, he didn't find it necessary. He had more important things to do. Focusing on his studies certainly was more important than a social life. Right? Right. His father was hardly ever home. He barely knew his father. Ever since he was a child, Damien's father worked. He worked countless hours, and by the time he got home Damien was already in bed. Damien was raised by his mother. He never really had much of a father figure, which was honestly pathetic, seeing as his father lived in the same house as him. Damien thought far too much on his long walks to school. He wished he wasn't an only child. He prayed that one day his father would talk to him just because. At least say something along the lines of "Hey, son. How was school today?" He knew that wouldn't happen. He walked into the old, dirty building, almost pushing the freezing metal handle on the glass door instead of pulling it. 'Here's to another endless day in Hell.' He thought, walking down the hallway.
[/size][/color]
User;
Character;
Roleplay Sample: He hadn't wanted to come. Not because he'd had anything better to do, but because any time spent at the horrible institution of learning was more misery. And that was probably an exaggeration, if he were to be perfectly honest with himself, but it wasn't a walk in the park. In all fairness, he could have dressed nicer, smiled occasionally, and tried to make friends, as his mother reminded him over almost every dinner. There was hardly a chance at that. Since his family had moved to this miserable suburban town, he had given up trying to make friends. His mother had them move so often, he didn't find it necessary. He had more important things to do. Focusing on his studies certainly was more important than a social life. Right? Right. His father was hardly ever home. He barely knew his father. Ever since he was a child, Damien's father worked. He worked countless hours, and by the time he got home Damien was already in bed. Damien was raised by his mother. He never really had much of a father figure, which was honestly pathetic, seeing as his father lived in the same house as him. Damien thought far too much on his long walks to school. He wished he wasn't an only child. He prayed that one day his father would talk to him just because. At least say something along the lines of "Hey, son. How was school today?" He knew that wouldn't happen. He walked into the old, dirty building, almost pushing the freezing metal handle on the glass door instead of pulling it. 'Here's to another endless day in Hell.' He thought, walking down the hallway.
[/size][/color]
