Post by Izzy Taylor on Nov 21, 2008 10:27:05 GMT -5
ISAACSTEPHENTAYLOR
You can't see past the worst scenario
You'd be happier instead if you'd stayed in bed
You can't see past the worst scenario
You'd be happier instead if you'd stayed in bed
we got a new star!
full name Isaac Stephen Taylor
nicks Izzy
age 26
birthday 24th November
group Musician (solo rock act)
sexual orientation Pansexual
and, oh... what an idiot!
likes Rock and roll, men, women, performing, hanging with fans, shopping (especially for clothes), chocolate, tea, video games, board games, parties, new book smell, make-up, glam rock, music, art
dislikes The “sex and drugs” part of rock and roll, groupies, techno, dance music, rude people, Americans who constantly point out differences between British and American culture to him as though they make him a psychopath, babies, being sick, wasting food, processed cheese, people who flaunt money.
hobbies Singing/Songwriting, Painting, martial arts
habits Probably drinks a gallon of tea a day; plays his guitar every day for at least an hour, crossword puzzles in bed before falling asleep. Yes really.
quirks Izzy has a tendency to check his appearance in every reflective surface he walks past, almost unconsciously. A bit of a hypochondriac.
fears Catching a serious disease, death, going deaf, vomiting
secrets Due to the insane fear of catching diseases, he is still a virgin. Allergic to penicillin. Wears women’s perfume.
strong points Modest, determined, confident, excellent showmanship, good with money, approachable, calm if confronted, can handle himself in a fight, good natured, good sense of humour, honest and trustworthy.
weaknesses Sarcastic, unromantic, paranoid, may come off as tight with money, blunt, often has his head in the clouds, bad loser, won‘t admit fault easily
so skinny that makes you puke!
build Izzy is slim and slender, but not so much that he looks unhealthy or overly bony. He isn’t exactly toned and any muscle he has is not well defined.
hair color&&style His hair is naturally straw blond, but he likes to dye it a striking red colour. He is comfortable with the shoulder length “mullet” style he’s had for nearly ten years.
eye color Blue
heritage Scandinavian on his mother’s side, English on his father’s side
height Six foot exactly.
clothing style Sort of glam-rock, pretty much inspired by the 70’s and 80’s.
flaws hates the shape of his nose, skin easily sun burned, hair too thick
strong points striking eyes, well-defined jaw and cheek bones
celebrity claim David Bowie
private lives aren't for sale!
parents Christopher Taylor, 56, high school chemistry teacher, living
Samantha Taylor, 53, housewife, living
siblings Vincent Adam Taylor (twin brother), 26, architect, living
other important family
birthplace Cambridge, England
nationality British
anything else none
but then their mask fell!
alias optional
age 19
years of roleplaying Eight or thereabouts.
how did you find the site RP Directory dot com
contact email lilac pilgrim@live.co.uk
rp sampleIzzy gave a loud, irritable groan. It wasn’t that he hated parties; quite the contrary, actually. He liked dancing, loud music, getting drunk and falling into the host’s pool, that kind of thing. Tonight, however, the dreaded white powder had come out and half the other “rock stars” as they liked to think they were now were sitting at tables, razor blade in one hand and fluorescent straws in the other. He couldn’t help but shiver as the guy next to him joined in rather noisily. He couldn’t understand the attraction of drugs, especially those which made your nose disintegrate or your veins collapse. It had been said about him that he wasn’t a “real” rock and roll star, since he didn’t care for sex and drugs. He smiled to think of it. He was much smarter than them, of course. He knew this stuff would kill each and every one of them eventually. And no doubt someone would overdo it and end up in an ambulance by the end of the night, and then he’d have to give a statement because celebrities are psychic and are always around when someone takes an overdose. Idiots.
Eyeing the guy next to him with unrestrained disgust, he rose to make his way outside, having to step carefully over older rockers already passed out on the plush carpet (which, Izzy noted mentally, would be a bitch to clean the next day) to reach the sliding glass doors that led to the pool area. Darting through the open door as though being chased, he heaved a sigh of relief as the cool night air made contact with his skin. There were still some people out here, probably with pocketfuls of some kinds of illegal substances. Like kids with candy. He shook his head at them, though no-one was really paying attention to him. The only thing he seemed to do to parties with drugs was ruin them, so the others thought. Well, he couldn’t ruin it if he was outside, could he? Now they had no-one else to blame but themselves. Of course there was always the chance that someone was taking hallucinogenic crap and would soon be outside shaking the life out of him, insisting that he was “the evil mushroom man”. Oh yes, he remembered that evening all too clearly. God, people made such idiots of themselves with all this drugs business. Not to mention risked all kinds of disease. Surreptitiously, he pulled a small bottle of hand sanitiser from his pocket and dry washed his hands, trying to remove any little particles he knew were there. He always carried something like that around. He didn’t see it as being paranoid; just health-conscious. When would they learn?
