Post by The Phantom of Paris on Mar 21, 2011 15:49:13 GMT -5
Current username: The Phantom of Paris
Character’s name: Chase Carlson
Character’s approx. age: 17
Character’s physical appearance: Deep brown eyes and tan skin, with prominent cheekbones and chin in what has been described by some as a "chiseled" face. Dark brown hair which he sometimes lets grow out enough to reach his eyes--unless one of his sisters corners him with scissors and demands he cut it. Occasionally, he will style his hair so that it sticks up more in the front, but this is a rarity. Around 6 feet, although for the sake of his love of basketball, he claims to be still growing.
Character's personality: On the outside, Chase exemplifies the typical jock--aloof and cocky and slightly shallow. At school, he adopts the 'I don't care what you think' attitude of many young athletes, cruising through high school and acting as if sports are the only thing that truly matters. Behind this facade, though, lurks a far more sensitive soul--not that he'll ever reveal it to anyone else without a fight--brought on by secret burdens and responsibilities at home. With five younger sisters to take care of and a father who spends more time in jail these days than out, Chase has been forced to become the 'man of the house,' as it were.
Two-paragraph sample post:
Chase Carlson
"All right!" Chase cried as he put the battered Datsun into park in front of the daycare center. "Last stop on the Carlson Express! Everybody off!" So far, the afternoon had gone rather smoothly--Marissa had been dropped off at dance, Maegan was safely at her clarinet lesson (and would be getting a ride home, Chase was thankful to note), and the twins were off at some field trip and would be having dinner with some friends from school afterwards. The only one left to drop off for the afternoon was Coraline, the baby of the family at six, and then Chase was free to head off to practice--if his little sister would get out of the car.
He sighed as he watched her shake her head at him in the rear-view mirror, crossing her arms. "No. I'm not going. I hate it there, Chase!"
Chase turned to face her, trying his best to hide his impatience. "Cora, we've been over this. I know you don't like it, but you don't have a choice. You can't come to basketball practice with me, the coach wouldn't like it." Chase's eyes darted over to the clock on the dashboard of the car before he was reminded for the hundredth time that Kelley had spilled soda on it the week before and broken it. Biting his lip to keep from swearing in front of his sister, he looked at the watch he always kept on his wrist instead--a gift from his father, the only useful thing the man had ever done for him. Practice started in ten minutes, and the little playgroup Coraline was a part of was a good fifteen minutes from the school if one were to obey all traffic laws and actually observe the speed limit. He could chance it, he supposed.
"All right, Coraline. You have five minutes to tell me why you don't want to go to Miss Debbie's playgroup, and if I like your answer, then you don't have to go after today. Your five minutes start..." he gave an exaggerated look at his watch, timing her and trying to at least get a smile out of her before she left. "Now."
It all came out then, how the other girls teased her and the only one that would talk to her was Miss Debbie herself. It took Chase ages to reassure Coraline, and when he finally got her out of the car and into the building she was glaring at him and he had two minutes to make a fifteen-minute drive. Fantastic, he thought as he buckled up and stepped on the gas.
When he got to the school and into the gym, he tried to slink in as quietly as he could, joining the rest of the team where they stood huddled around the coach. He knew that it was a long shot, but a part of him still hoped that Coach Lawton wouldn't notice he was late, that today would be different...
"Carlson! So nice of you to join us!"
Well, so much for that. He shot the coach a grin as the entire team turned to look at him, giving a shrug. "Sorry, Coach."
Coach smirked at him. "Not as sorry as you're gonna be. While you were out gallivanting around town, I divided your teammates--that's the people who actually showed up on time, in case you forgot--into teams for a scrimmage. But since you obviously have better things to do than show up, you get to do suicides while they play."
Chase's shoulders slumped slightly as the team shot him the same looks they always did--looks of contempt, annoyance, and something that might have even been sympathy from Brailsford and a few of the other guys. He wondered if things would be different if they knew--knew that after this he had to round up his sisters again and bring them home. That after that, he had to see if his mother was up to cooking dinner or if he and Marissa would have to find something for them all to eat, that after that he would go off to work, taking orders at Burger King until midnight, after which he would get a start on his homework if he wasn't dead tired already. Which he would be. Probably not.
"How many, Coach?" Chase asked, walking over and positioning himself on the baseline.
"How about until I tell you to stop?" The whistle blew then, and Chase started sprinting.
Actor Image: James Franco
Character’s name: Chase Carlson
Character’s approx. age: 17
Character’s physical appearance: Deep brown eyes and tan skin, with prominent cheekbones and chin in what has been described by some as a "chiseled" face. Dark brown hair which he sometimes lets grow out enough to reach his eyes--unless one of his sisters corners him with scissors and demands he cut it. Occasionally, he will style his hair so that it sticks up more in the front, but this is a rarity. Around 6 feet, although for the sake of his love of basketball, he claims to be still growing.
Character's personality: On the outside, Chase exemplifies the typical jock--aloof and cocky and slightly shallow. At school, he adopts the 'I don't care what you think' attitude of many young athletes, cruising through high school and acting as if sports are the only thing that truly matters. Behind this facade, though, lurks a far more sensitive soul--not that he'll ever reveal it to anyone else without a fight--brought on by secret burdens and responsibilities at home. With five younger sisters to take care of and a father who spends more time in jail these days than out, Chase has been forced to become the 'man of the house,' as it were.
Two-paragraph sample post:
Chase Carlson
"All right!" Chase cried as he put the battered Datsun into park in front of the daycare center. "Last stop on the Carlson Express! Everybody off!" So far, the afternoon had gone rather smoothly--Marissa had been dropped off at dance, Maegan was safely at her clarinet lesson (and would be getting a ride home, Chase was thankful to note), and the twins were off at some field trip and would be having dinner with some friends from school afterwards. The only one left to drop off for the afternoon was Coraline, the baby of the family at six, and then Chase was free to head off to practice--if his little sister would get out of the car.
He sighed as he watched her shake her head at him in the rear-view mirror, crossing her arms. "No. I'm not going. I hate it there, Chase!"
Chase turned to face her, trying his best to hide his impatience. "Cora, we've been over this. I know you don't like it, but you don't have a choice. You can't come to basketball practice with me, the coach wouldn't like it." Chase's eyes darted over to the clock on the dashboard of the car before he was reminded for the hundredth time that Kelley had spilled soda on it the week before and broken it. Biting his lip to keep from swearing in front of his sister, he looked at the watch he always kept on his wrist instead--a gift from his father, the only useful thing the man had ever done for him. Practice started in ten minutes, and the little playgroup Coraline was a part of was a good fifteen minutes from the school if one were to obey all traffic laws and actually observe the speed limit. He could chance it, he supposed.
"All right, Coraline. You have five minutes to tell me why you don't want to go to Miss Debbie's playgroup, and if I like your answer, then you don't have to go after today. Your five minutes start..." he gave an exaggerated look at his watch, timing her and trying to at least get a smile out of her before she left. "Now."
It all came out then, how the other girls teased her and the only one that would talk to her was Miss Debbie herself. It took Chase ages to reassure Coraline, and when he finally got her out of the car and into the building she was glaring at him and he had two minutes to make a fifteen-minute drive. Fantastic, he thought as he buckled up and stepped on the gas.
When he got to the school and into the gym, he tried to slink in as quietly as he could, joining the rest of the team where they stood huddled around the coach. He knew that it was a long shot, but a part of him still hoped that Coach Lawton wouldn't notice he was late, that today would be different...
"Carlson! So nice of you to join us!"
Well, so much for that. He shot the coach a grin as the entire team turned to look at him, giving a shrug. "Sorry, Coach."
Coach smirked at him. "Not as sorry as you're gonna be. While you were out gallivanting around town, I divided your teammates--that's the people who actually showed up on time, in case you forgot--into teams for a scrimmage. But since you obviously have better things to do than show up, you get to do suicides while they play."
Chase's shoulders slumped slightly as the team shot him the same looks they always did--looks of contempt, annoyance, and something that might have even been sympathy from Brailsford and a few of the other guys. He wondered if things would be different if they knew--knew that after this he had to round up his sisters again and bring them home. That after that, he had to see if his mother was up to cooking dinner or if he and Marissa would have to find something for them all to eat, that after that he would go off to work, taking orders at Burger King until midnight, after which he would get a start on his homework if he wasn't dead tired already. Which he would be. Probably not.
"How many, Coach?" Chase asked, walking over and positioning himself on the baseline.
"How about until I tell you to stop?" The whistle blew then, and Chase started sprinting.
Actor Image: James Franco
-Mascii(: