Post by Alessandro Logan Kinkaid on Dec 31, 2009 12:37:03 GMT -8
,kinkaid, alessandro.
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"REMEMBER SEEING THE SUN COMING UP EASY
WHILE THE RAIN CAME TUMBLIN' DOWN
AND IT WASHED OUR BODIES SO CLEANL
THAT WE WOULD SEEM TO RISE UP OFF
THE COLD, COLD GROUND."
-COMING UP EASY, PAOLO NUTINI FO SHIZZ!!
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the preliminaries,
INTRODUCING: ALESSANDRO KINKAID[/center]
[/color] I've been on this earth since APRIL 15, 1986[/b], so that makes me 23[/color]. I'm a BUM[/color] and I'm actually from GLASGOW.. YOU KNOW, SCOTLAND AND ALL THAT. In case you were wondering, I'm SINGLE AND HETEROSEXUAL. I know what you're thinking, am I PAOLO NUTINI, right? No, 'cause i don't sing half as good as he does.[/blockquote][/blockquote]"Hi, I'm ALESSANDRO LOGAN KINKAID but most people just call me ALESSANDRO, OR AL
free-styling,
[/size]EXCERPTS AND TIDBITS FROM THE LIFE&TIMES OF ALICE KINKAID[/center]
[/b]
APHONE CONVERSATION BETWEEN ALESSANDRO AND MADELINE KINKAID:
Alessandro: Linny, are you OK? Anna said you haven't come home again. She's worried.. so am I...
Linny: It's David, my boy friend he...he tried to..
Alessandro: i'm coming, Linny; stay put and don't worry OK? I love you.
ALESSANDRO KINKAID'S MOST RECENT SHOPPIG LIST:
• tic tacs
• socks
• smokes
• food??
• booze!!!
ALESSANDRO'S PRIVATE JOURNAL: TEN THINGS I LOVE:
1. guitars
2. booze
3. modern art (but not the crappy kind!!)
4. sheep
5. green things
6. frozen TV dinners
7. dogs
8. relaxy days
9. music
10. preforming
VARIOUS THINGS FOUND IN ALESSANDRO'S BACKPACK:
-A green tooth brush
-Some toothpaste, very neatly cleaned of excess toothpaste
-Four packs of Marlboro Reds
-Three green lighters
-One red lighter
-Five empty bottles of various alcoholic drinks
-One opened, half empty bottle of whisky
-One capo. two packs of guitar strings, music, guitar amplifier, and loop recorder
-Two blankets
-One Pillow with One green pillowcase
-One wallet
ALICEINWONDERLAND'S RECENT TWEETS:
Aliceinwonderland:[/color] Enjoying Cordes-Sur-Ciel. Drinking away my troubles.
Aliceinwonderland:[/color] Have to find a place that does laundry FOR FREE.
Aliceinwonderland:[/color] Need a place to stay; it's raining. Anyone wanna help a poor bum?
Aliceinwonderland[/color] @madelinemarmelade: Hey Linny, I'm in town! I'll come visit you! Maybe spend a few days with you? Promise I'll play some songs for you. (:
Aliceinwonderland:[/color] At Linny's eating squash soup and watching TV.
Aliceinwonderland:[/color] Heading back onto the streets again, folks! Catch me around. If you buy me some booze, I'll play for you.
ALESSANDRO KINKAID'S FACEBOOK: BREAK IN!!:
Madeline Kinkaid and 3 others like this.Madeline Kinkaid: Where the hell were you?! don't tell me you got drunk again???
Alessandro Kinkaid: Don't worry! I was hahaha but I was OK. ( ;
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history,
[/size]THE BACKGROUND.[/center]
On Apirl fifteenth, 1987, a baby boy was born to Mr. and Mrs. Michael Kinkaid. The boy, Alessandro, was not their first child, he was their second, actually. Their first child was two years older, and his name was Brendon. When his younger brother came home, Brendon "played" with him often. The adults in the house never seemed to notice, and always thought ti was quite cute. usually they'd play games where Brendon always succeeded, and as they got older this started a kind of rivalry between the two.
Through the years, their rivalry grew and grew, and the two boys never quite bonded. They spent their days separate from each other, yelling generally insulting comments every-now-and-then. Amidst all of their fighting and bickering, they never seemed to notice their own parents' fights. Generally, they were a wonderful couple, but as the years went by, their own flaws and differences began to show.
In the summer of 1991, the divorce papers were signed. Alessandro was four years old, and his older brother was ten. Brendon went to live with his mother, while he, Alessandro stayed with his father in his father's home. It was strange not to have his mother there, and many nights, Alessandro would find himself upset, and crying. He did not see his mother for nearly a year (she'd moved from Scotland to London), and in that one year, he grew different: more independent. He enjoyed his own company, and never saw his father much anyway, after all, he worked nearly all day, and though his workday finished around three or four, he never came home until at least ten. For some reason, Alessandro always seemed to remember his father as a silhouette, his face was always shadowed, his voice always hollow and cold. Really, he was a very detached man, and he and his son never seemed to connect.
Being at the age he was (five), Alessandro never suspected anything. If he were much older, of course he'd have some suspicions, but of course, he never did. So, it came as a shock to him when, one day a strange woman appeared at his home. Their confrontation went something like this: Alessandro had just woken up after a long week of school. It was just before noon, and he was wandering somewhere through the large stately house. He'd made his way into the sitting area, and seated himself on the floor in front of the large glass doors. The sunlight filtered through the clear glass, sending his dark hair alight. It warmed his skin and he relished the feeling.
Suddenly, there was a cold hand on his bare shoulder. Frightened, the boy spun around and his breath caught in his throat. A woman kneeled before him, a smile on her painted red lips. She frightened him slightly, and he jumped away, a cry ripping from his throat. Seconds later, his father was standing in the doorway, a grim kind of smile on his lips. "Oh, come now, Son. It's alright. This is Anna, she's going to be your new mother."
Hardly three months later, a new child was on the way. Her name was Madeline. Through the years, she and Alessandro grew very close; always together, inseparable. Their lives were very normal for some years.
When Alessandro entered into high school, he started a group, a little band with some friends. He'd been interested in the guitar for many years, and had taught it to himself for a while. Year by year, their little group gained popularity, and by their senior year, they were extremely popular in their city. Being the vocalist, songwriter and frontman, it would have been a lie to say that Alessandro Kinkaid was not an important asset to the band. As they got older, all of the few members were dabbling in drugs, drinking and smoking constantly. In Scotland, with his father's seemingly endless supply of money and riches, the boy could get away with anything, which included acquiring his supply of heroin. For a time his father never noticed, nor cared; the man was always caught up in his own fancies, and frivolous "needs", women among them. After a time, his son greatly detested him or it. Anna just held her head high and looked the other way, and for a time everything went on just in that way, like they said: ignorance was bliss.
It was when Alessandro turned twenty-one that things strted to take a turn for the worse. The band was goig along great, but all of the members were using, had been, actually. Alessandro had probably been doing it the longest, and in the end, he would later come to blame himself for all the troubles that his addiction had caused. One of the more impactful, and scarring ones involved a young man by the name of Rogier.
Rogier was his first name, and to Alessandro's knowledge, his only name. He was "a friend of a friend", and that was where the friendliness stopped, and the formalities began. Rogier was a year or so older than Alessandro, taller and stronger, with a frightening and famished hunger for "the good stuff". Alessandro never wanted to play the role of dealer, but it came to him in the sense that money is sent as inheritance to a dead man's relatives. His friend, and band-mate, was a notorious druggy; he somehow got the stuff and sold it to his friends. Through sheer laziness, he'd stopped going, but of course someone had to get the stuff. Alessandro was never a born leader, an never dreamed that he would be. Still, he took it upon himself to "take care" of his friends, a group that was fondly referred to as "The Family". So, every now-and-then, when the stash was low, he'd go on down to the mysterious dark streets with their mysterious dark people, pick up the goods and go back home. It just so happened that Rogier, big strong man that he was, could not obtain the stuff for himself. Alessandro being the generally very nice young man that he was, always offerred him a discounted price because he was (and so the term appears again) a "friend of a friend".
For a time, their relationship continued in this fashion. Rogier was always prompt, and besides his drug problem, he seemed a fairly well-off guy. In the end, he'd won Alessandro's approval and he was moved up from "friend of a friend" to "kind of known accquaintance". After a time, Rogier learnd about Alessandro's sister, Madeline. It was rumored by his friends that though she was a wee bit younger, she was in fact a sight. Rogier, gaining interest, managed to meet her one night. Instantly she was taken in by his charm and good looks. She was seventeen, her brother twenty-two, and they were close as ever. It was obvious that from an accquaintance standpoint, he appoved f Rogier. So, not much after their first encounter, the two started dating. Rogier had a "thing" for younger girls, and he and Madeline hit it off pretty well. For a few months, they were nearly insepperable.
It was not four months into thir relationship when things started to go sour. Alessandro being as close as he was to Linny, could tell there was something up, though for a time he didn't bother asking, unsure of what her reacion would be. It was only when one night, Linny didn't return home. Usually, when this was the case, she'd phone and explain why, but for once she didn't. This put Anna into a fit, an she sent Alessandro out to go find Linny. The first place he checked was the band hang-out, an old abandonned kin of shack. She wasn't there. He called. No answer, again he called, and called. Finally he got an answer. Linny was sobbing, and already Alessandro knew. He'd managed to getthe location from her before he heard a sharp scream on her part, and a masculine yell, it was Rogier. Seconds later, his voice was ringing in Alessandro's ears: "She can't talk any longer. I would suggest that you forget about this, you wouldn't want a broken sister." his voice was ice, and it was obvious that he meant what he said. Still, Alessandro foun himself in his car, tackng down the empty streets, his mind spinning, the anger rising in his chest.
When he'd reached the place, it was almost deserted. The lights were off, but the door was open. He made his way in, sure not to make a sound. What he saw was not unexpected, but it still put him into a shocked state. Insecods, he was across the room, his hands formed into tight fists. He attacked the towering figure that was Rogier, he had the advantage of surprise. Though he was shorter, weaker and younger, his anger was enough. He had boundless energy, his fists were greedy, never stopping. Still, Rpgier was stronger; minutes later, he'd all but hurled his attacker against the oposite wall. Now it was his turn, his aim was perfect. For a time it went on like this, until Linny, finally removed from her frightened state, interfered. She tore Rogier away with a kiss, with a strength Alessandro hardly knew she possesed, she' flung Rogier on the bed. She kissed him, and he smiled. He made an attempt to undress her gain, but it wa her turn to smile. He smile was filled with hate, and anger and betrayal. She had her hand on his crotch--Alessandro was standing speachless--and then she squeezed. "You lying bastard."
The car ride home was silent, Aleasandro was stony-faced, and overwhelmed; Linny had succumbed once more to the open-mouthedfear, pain and shock. When they returned home, a fuss was made, but Alessandro made sure that it ended. Later that night, the two had returned, still shocked, still slightly bewildered and afraid, to their bedrooms. For a time, Alessandro stayed sittig on his bed, soaking in all that had happened. For a while, he stayed there, but not for long. He found himself at Linny's door, hand wrapped around the doorknob, white from the pressure. Finally, he came in. She was crying. It was an awkward moment, but he made his way to her side. He hugged her. He would continue to cherish, an hate that day for the rest of his life.
Madeline had taken a small apartment there, and often times he'd spend his days and nights there. Despite his own small fortune, and the vast one of his parent, he preferred life on the streets, where anything could and would happen. He enjoyed the serendipity of it all, and never quite thought of renting a home or apartment.
the sample,
[/size]GABBY'S ROLE PLAY SAMPLE.[/center]
The plane ride had been shaky; turbulent and nauseating, even for him. Nikki wasn’t one for such things, but it hadn’t been half as pleasant as he’d have hoped. It had been his first plane ride, and he’d hated it with a kind of passion. It nearly killed him, and had put him in a frightened panic the whole flight from England to Connecticut. When he stepped off that plane, he vowed he’d never set foot on one again.
Feeling slightly shaken, the boy had moved sluggishly from here to there, ordering a coffee, nibbling on some kind of pastry, his mind wandering. Out of habit, he checked his watch, but realized the time would be off by several hours. Wonderful. Glancing around, he found a large digital clock displayed on the wall. It read: 8:43. Absently, he looked around Am, or PM, god damn it?. In his current state of fright, fatigue, and confusion, he didn’t quite know what to do, say, think or believe. It all was a mess, and so, slowly, he lowered himself into a chair and closed his eyes. He needed a smoke, and his fix. But that wasn’t going to happen, was it? He’d thrown the lot of it away before he’d boarded the plane, just in case. He didn’t need to get into any trouble just yet.
The seconds seemed to pass like hours, and after opening his eyes, Nikki realized that he hadn’t even been sitting for a minute. He felt so… out of it, and tired, and strange. He wanted to sleep right then and there, but then how would he get used to the time change? Oh right, he wouldn’t. With a half-hearted kind of laugh, Nikolai strolled through the airport, checking the wall-clock every-now-and-then, wondering what he was going to do. After a time of this, he decided to just leave the safety of the airport, and wander. Eventually he’d find himself some place to stay, a park bench would be fine enough for him.
Before leaving the airport, Nikki had converted some of his money into American dollars. He had quite a bit, and put it away. I’m sure I’ll be all right for now, eh? Enough money for a car, but I sure hope Deadwood is nice to its bums. Minutes later, he had hailed a cab, and was on his way to somewhere. ”Surprise me.” was all he’d said when the cabby had started off. Obviously, the man didn’t quite like this reply, and he turned around when they were at a stoplight. ”Look, Mister.” he said in an accent reminiscent of and Italian mafia kind of movie (Nikki wondered where he’d come from, and why he was in Connecticut). ”I don’t want to be a bother, but I can’t just take you anywhere. That’s just not..” Nikki had only been half listening, his mind and eyes focusing on the quiet, cold scenes outside the ice-laced car windows. Suddenly, he’d snapped to attention, his eyes now resting on the driver. ”Not, not what?” The man stuttered and shook his head, irritated. ”Tell you what, kind sir,” Nikki began, doling out a handsome tip, ”Drive me to a… a park or something. And please don’t bother me about this again.” With a small smile, he leaned back in the seat and refocused on the life outside of his window. Annoyed, the cabby took the money and turned his back, his lips sealed and his eyes staring straight ahead.
Minutes later, the taxicab stopped abruptly. Within seconds, Nikki was out of the door, his things already in his hands. Quickly taking out his wallet, he paid the man, and walked slowly away. ”Ah, Connecticut. It’s nice to see that you appreciate some good weather.” Smiling, he unbuttoned his over shirt, and relished the tingling in his arms. It was definitely very cold out, snowing, in fact. But he was one to love the cold, and he was used to it anyways.
Looking about himself, the boy realized how quiet it was. It was probably around nine, Connecticut time, and there weren’t many people walking about. There were the occasional couple, and definitely a few drunken idiots, underage drinkers, no doubt. With a scornful laugh, Nikolai passed by them, shaking his head. It was just so pointless when you were drunk, without a girl around. What were they trying to do? Look like rebels, or idiots? Rebels no doubt, but they were pulling off the idiot part pretty well.
Flinging his bags down on top of a grassy little knoll, Nikki riffled through his pockets, withdrawing a fresh pack of Marlboro reds, and his lighter tucked away in its appealing self-portrait Andy Warhol case. Smiling, he lit it, taking a long drag on the end of it. Wonderful. ”Good bye, Andy,” he said, tucking it back into his pocket. That had been his one gift to himself before leaving; he’d thought it quite soothing that they’d put that particular picture on the case of a lighter. Andy Warhol with a skull over his head. It was almost as if he was saying: ”You’re going to smoke yourself to death, kid.” Nikki liked to think that it was true. That way, it might mean something.
After a few minutes of just sitting about, he’d pulled himself up and closed his eyes, walking around slowly, enjoying the pinching cold. For a while, he was lost in his thoughts, the time and place forgotten, all desires besides a good smoke, gone. If only life could be like this always; no troubles, no nothing, no---
”What the fuck!” His exclamation was louder than he’d expected, and it surprised him as much as the few people around him. His eye had sprung open, and his face was a comical display of shock, fear and surprise. He’d been walking for what seemed like days, and he’d enjoyed it too. Then, all of a sudden, he’d bumped into something—no, someone. She was pretty damn good looking, or at least from the back (which was all he could see at the moment, as his face was practically buried in her hair). One arm was at his side, the other was limp, at the girl’s side, hanging slightly about her hips. Disentangling himself from the girl, he stumbled backwards a bit, and tapped her on the shoulder. ”I’m sorry about that, Miss!” he said, embarrassed. ”I –er- wasn’t… looking. Well, actually my eyes were closed.” laughing nervously, he closed his eyes quickly. calm the fuck down! he told himself repeatedly. He walked around, turning to face her, he smiled. Red hair. He liked it, and she wasn’t really ugly at all. In fact, she was quite attractive. Suddenly, he felt himself sliding into a calmer, cooler Nikki. A charming smile sprung to his lips, and he looked directly into her eyes. ”I’m Nikki,” he said, offering his hand. ”And I can’t say that I’m not.. embarrassed.”
about the author,
[/size]SO WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO SAY FOR YOURSELF? [/center]
[/color]. I've been roleplaying for 6 OR 7[/color] years now and I stumbled upon this site WELL, I'M YOUR SISTER DUMBFACE. I INSPIRED THE BIRTH OF THIS FORUM. (:[/b]. I hail from CALIFORNYAH BABAY[/color]. If need be, you can contact me by PM PLEASE[/color]. My other characters are NONE HERE[/color] and I like WELL, PAOLO NUTINI FOR ONE. NCIS, BONES (VERY RECENTLY), SCRUBS (IT'S WEIRD BUT FUNNY), GLEE (MISS IT!!), HOUSE, MONK (MISS IT!!), PSYCH, PATRICK WOLF, PEARL JAM, DAVID BOWIE, RUFUS WAINWRIGHT, WUEEN, BOB DYLAN (ISH), BEN FOLDS JET, THE BLACK KEYS, THE WHITE STRIPES, AND SOME NIRVANA. YO. ( ;Hi everyone, I'm GABBEH! and I'm 100
oh! and MICHAEL BUBLÉ is like sexyvoiceness. and btw, i dislike his last name but whatevsss.[/color]
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