Post by westin hurley on Apr 29, 2009 19:15:30 GMT -5
westin hurley
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FULL NAME: Westin Dean Hurley.
NICKNAMES: Just Wes, please.
AGE: Twenty-one.
BIRTHDATE: February 13th, 1986.
GENDER: Male.
SEXUALITY: Straight.
OCCUPATION/GROUP: Musician.
CANON OR ORIGINAL: Original.
PLAYBY: Alex Gaskarth.
BODY TYPE: Mainly, people just recognize him for his height. He's pretty scrawny as well, and it's pretty hard to miss him in a big group of people - unless you're really not looking.
height: Six feet, four inches. Overall, he's just very slim, and actually pretty scrawny. His arms are toned though, thanks to the guitar.
HAIR: Naturally a caramel brown. However, in the summer, and back in Tennessee, he gets naturally blonde highlights due to the sun. Whatever color it is, though, it's always a mess. He'd be better off wearing a hat at all times, but he thinks he's got that whole disheveled look down pat. It takes him an hour to look like he got ready in five minutes.
EYES: Dark brown, but depending on what color he's wearing, they can appear a lighter hazel.
CLOTHING: Nothing but skinny jeans, v-necks, and flip-flops. Not exactly original, to be honest. However, if he's trying to dress up, he'll bust out the (fake) leather jacket, and maybe attempt to tame his hair. He's obsessed with scarves and bracelets and things, and truth be told, it's hard to spot him going around with bare wrists anymore.
LIKES: Sleeping, parties, whiskey, one night stands, skipping school, intimacy in general, females in general, getting wasted, waking up in an unfamiliar places, girls who play hard to get.
DISLIKES: Prudes, relationships, getting called out as a manwhore, reading, academics, sports, Italian food.
HABITS: Contradicting himself, lying, smoking, drinking himself into a coma, sleeping around, complaining, spending money he doesn't have.
STRENGTHS: He can sleep through class and retain all the information like a sponge... if he really wanted to, anyway. He's pretty easy to get along with in general, and he doesn't really give a damn what people think of him. He goes with the flow, and is very flexible in most situations. He doesn't have to live in a mansion and eat gourmet food to be happy, although it's a nice perk. He's not purposely hurtful, either, and his rude comments are never heard outside of his mouth, unless you really, really did something to deserve it.
WEAKNESSES: He's just addicted to girls, to be honest. He's got a heart of gold, but his lust is ruining his sweetheart capabilities. He's never really satisfied with anything, and he feels forced to just accept everything around him. More often than not, he compromises his happiness for others, and lets them walk all over him like a doormat. He finds it very hard to say no - to anything, or anyone.
SECRETS: He sleeps (alone) with a nightlight. His father was an abusive alcoholic in the later years. Also, he's a fantastic writer, and he's got a good singing voice... he's just afraid to admit it.
FEARS: Honestly, he's terrified that he'll be a swinger all his life. On a less serious note, he's absolutely terrified of the dark - which might have a little something to do with his constant 'need' for sleepovers.
PERSONALITY: So, the truth is that he could be the world's biggest sweetheart if he wanted. Sadly enough... That's not what he wants. At all. He got his hopes crushed one too many times with the people around him, and his level of trust with people really broke in half. Oddly enough, Wes can keep a secret. And he wouldn't back-stab you, although that's all he experienced when younger. He really throws his heart out on his sleeve, although he's learned not to do that before. He's not exactly the brightest fellow out there. However, that's not exactly a bad thing.
He's not a snob. He's down to earth entirely, and his only personality flaw is his recklessness in the bedroom scene. He'd rather sleep with a girl for one night and never see her again just for that risk of getting stabbed in the heart again. He doesn't realize that not all girls want to be 'just friends,' and that's another one of his short-comings. He's a hilarious guy, and just wants to have fun in life. Who doesn't, right? He's a safe guy to be around, really. A total pushover who can easily be wrapped around your finger in a matter of minutes.... but unfortunately, he can do the same to you. And he does it pretty often, without even realizing it.
Wes has a way with words, which surprises most people. He's not the poster-child for a real Southern gentleman by any means. Just as easily as he's taken advantage of, he'll have you at his bidding as well. He's an untamed live wire, and there's really no telling what he'll do next. He's ridiculously wild, and has as much love for sex as he does for getting wasted. Just don't get in his way, and he'll definitely stay out of yours.
MOTHER: Susan Beckett-Hurley, who was a horse-breeder at the age of fifty-five. She's now working at a restaurant with her new fiancee. She and Wes get along very well - mainly because she doesn't know about his new attitude toward females, and his interest in them.
FATHER: Micheal Hurley, who is a fifty-four year old, unemployed man. Sadly, the good childhood Wes had was ruined when alcohol came into the picture, and Mike became abusive. And, although Wes never mentions it or makes a big deal out of it, he'll never talk to his father again. And he's content with that one hundred percent.
SIBLINGS: Thomas, Bryce, Nick, and Jack. All are seventeen like Wes, and students in various places. Wes has little idea of their current residences, and wouldn't mind keeping it that. They never really clicked much anyway.
PETS: A small papillon dog named Sebastian.
HISTORY: Westin was born the oldest in a set of quintuplets - his elderly position determined by only a matter of minutes. At the time, his parents Susan and Michael owned a small horse breeding farm in the town of Chattanooga, Tennessee. The neighborhood the five newborns came to live into was very spaced out with acres separating each lot. Eventually, the big backyard that was set up alongside the horse corral came in handy... Or atleast it did for four of the five brothers. Even in elementary school, and over the course of his entire childhood, Wes was never really interested in any sports. Unlike his brothers, the only time he preferred to go outside was to help out with the multiple horses his parents raised, or to take a nap under one of the large willow trees in the lot. Until about the fifth grade, Westin's best friend was the neighbor girl who occasionally rode her bike over to hang out around the stables. Wes' four brothers were all involved in basketball, baseball, football, and every other sport under the sun, and were best friends with eachother. More often than not, Wes served as their scrawny target-practice hoop, or their wrestling opponent, or a punching bag. He didn't mind much, though - mainly because he didn't realize how abusive it was until his best friend, Emily, revealed it to him.
After that, Wes found himself hanging out with Emily more than his own family. And because of that, he really started to have alot of girl friends. Which then led to girlfriends, to be quite honest. Wes didn't realize the pattern until girls started arguing over him in the seventh grade. Eventually, though, he got used to it. He treated girls with loads of respect - Emily always at his side, through thick and thin. The awkwardness of girls and their cooties never ever touched Westin. He was always comfortable around both genders, and got along with both very well. He was barely home, and when he was, he was often left alone due to his brothers' sporting events, and his parent's work schedules. As he grew out of a private middle school, and flooded over to the public high school, he found himself making even more friends. Meeting new people, and being well-known due to his parents' racehorses, and their success on the track. Wes didn't really realize how much the girls in their fairly suburban area were interested in horses, and that led to them spending more and more time with him at his house.
Things went on like that for a good year or two, with Emily still at his side. They did absolutely everything together. She and Wes' bond only strengthened when he accidentally spilled the beans that his father (due to a recent losing streak on the race track), had become a violent alcoholic. His brothers were never home, which left he and his mothers to be the subjective victims. Out of Wes' love, he decided to stop trying at school, in order to get his father's anger focused on him, so his mother would be left unharmed. One thing led to another, and soon enough, Wes was practically moved out, and moved in with Emily. Things after that went topsy turvy, because Wes' entire family went into debt, after their winning horse went down. Their huge house was repossessed by the bank, and his parents (now broke) got an immediate divorce. Child custody looked into the issue to find out that Westin was getting a 'provoked beating,' and he was sent north to a foster home. Before he left to finish his senior year of high school in California, though, he admitted his deep feelings for Emily... only to find them unreturned.
He left to go to an academy with a broken heart, and no family in close range. Thus, he decided to start up his manwhoring ways, deciding that since his 'love' for Emily was never going to be reattained, he might as well fuck away the whole concept for the rest of his life. (Quite literally.) He's just recently learned how to strum at a guitar, but he's ridiculously dedicated. He's also always had a talent for singing, but now that he's in Hollywood, he's decided now would be the time to shoot for the stars and go for his guilty-please of a dream.
YOUR NAME: Ashley.
YOUR AGE: Optional.
EXPERIENCE: Eh, like four or five years now.
ROLEPLAY SAMPLE:It was a wonder that Jack wasn't a bed-ridden, narcoleptic fool. Seriously. When you looked at how often Jack was up on stage - jumping around or dancing, it was hard to believe he never got physically tired. If it were up to Jack, he'd never sleep. That was just a whole big waste of time, in his opinion. But sometimes, a dude just had to get some rest - like after you get so wasted you can't keep your eyes open. That was Jack's situation last night, and even now, almost twenty four hours later, he was still fighting off a faint haze of that hang-over. He didn't let it show, though.
As Jack ran from the stage to the bus to change his sweat-dampened shirt out for another, there was no drunken swagger in his step. His legs, clad in black skinny jeans as normal, bore no resistance to the ground his huge feet connected with. It was just another night now that he'd downed an aspirin, and gotten on his neon green v-neck. Now he was just in the zone - ready to go, and have a good time.
Only a few seconds after sitting down, someone had made a comment in the crowd about his hair. Jack looked up in an attempt to see what exactly was so funny, only to realize that the little splotch of blonde left in his dark hair was sticking up from his clean shirt's static. A juvenile giggle rolled out of his lips, and he flattened the strands. He turned slightly to realize that the rest of the band had moved over toward the bar, and Jack was left back in the chair. He only had a moment to be disappointed though, as he felt someone's arms around him. He smiled widely - fully used to getting randomly attacked with the gesture. However, once he looked down, he recognized her completely, and his smirk only grew. "Awww," He cooed in response to her compliment, purposely tugging on the back of her ponytail. "Rian thought I did horribly. But you know, your opinion's all that matters." He grinned teasingly. Always a joke with him.
He gazed around and realized he had turned his back slightly on the crowd. Now he just blended in with everyone else in line to take shots with All Time Low, or get their autograph, or hope to get taken back to their bus for the night. Jack found this noticeably funny that he could slip through the cracks so easily just by turning his head. He hugged Ainsley close to him again - burying his head in her shoulder so he would remain unnoticeable, and he could be heard over the growing volume. "All the kids here are making fun of me," He whined pathetically; looking down to her with self-pity. "Mind if we go outside so I can escape the hate?" He inquired; a raised eyebrow conveying his hopeful thoughts. Maybe after the crowd thinned out, he'd be willing to come back inside. Afterall, there was a beer keg in there.
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