11-15-2018, 03:46 PM
Character Name: Blake Farris
Character Age: 23
Carrier/Seeder/Both: Both
Character Description: The purest definition of an All-American if ever the term was the be coined to anyone. Blake stands at a sturdy six-foot-three with a lean physique to his frame spent from working out and posing for a few cameras to being a decent linebacker on his best days. He is a brunett, his hair a soft brown as opposed to a jet or full black, with contacts usually worn to help make his normal blue eyes pop to an icy gray. He wears his hair in a French Crop Style with just a little scruff which starts near the jawframe that connects towards his upper face and ears downward to the chin itself, that of which isn’t exactly pointy, but doesn’t scream being square-jawed nor cleft at the same time.
Character Biography (Small): Every city needs foundation and that’s what the Farris family excelled at, Farris Foundations Inc. to be quite exact. Daniel Farris was quite the proficient Architect alongside his wife Lana. Naturally, they hoped it would run off on to their three sons, Blake as the oldest clearly being their top choice. He was good with his mathematics, knew his way around a sketch and pencil and paper and could put together simple structures like a treehouse rather well. Still, it wasn’t exactly what he wanted in life. A rebellious phase, his parents called it. He went into sports over them wishing he pushed academics. He honored their request to Major in business, but truth be told, he had other ventures in mind. Lastly, apart of his rebelliousness, they assumed his attraction to men would also just go away, even putting him together with some homely girl clad out from the South who wanted nothing more than to essentially secure her bag with someone much more loftier than her. She wasn’t exactly a bad girl, but Lacy just wasn’t his type either. He made this clear, but now he was just simply going to have to show her more than he could tell her. Yes, Lacy was very much that underprivileged individual who was brought along the ride to be nothing more than one of the individuals who they ridiculed.
He was one of the last few off the boat, not by choice of his own. No. That belonged to the individual who insisted she bring as many bags than she could carry for a trip like this. High maintenance, dressing to impress; that was fine and all, but did Blake Farris really care? The answer was a flat-out no, especially when they came with the entitled diva flair and personality to themselves that made his blue eyes roll in annoyance. Still, he put on his best smile and carried her off the boat itself while holding on to their bags. The woes of someone poor trying to win the affection of someone who clearly barked up a different tree.
He was clad in a nice beige sweater, a red and black stripe around its v-neck form, followed with a nice white dress shirt underneath and pink shorts that stopped a little above his knees in form fitting fashion. His shoes were off because there was just no way he was going to trudge through heavy sand while carrying a wide load, not that Lacy was actually wide. She was just essentially dead weight and like it, he dropped her right on the sand while reserving an annoyed look to his face. He was just kidding though, as she put it with a giggle.
Roswell and Rivers were well gone at the current moment. That meant for now, he was going to focus on some his own skills by taking in the sights. There were pine trees, coconuts plastered on other trees here and there and even shoots of bamboo scattered among the forest.
“Hey, fetch me one of your sewing needles,” he commanded. “I can make some string from the coconuts up there. I should be able to get us something fastened around here.”
Oh, he was such a leading man in her eyes. She quickly reached for her own bags and found what he needed, but for good measure, he also told her to check the boat for some twine or rope as well. While she was away, he was able to focus on doing what he set himself out to do as he pulled a knife from his pocket. It might not be as clean as one would with a machete, but he could cut the bamboo with this, sharpen some of the ends so that they could be planted into the sand and weigh it down with something so they did not fall or rise out from it as a result. He was the son of an architect if nothing more, after all.
Character Age: 23
Carrier/Seeder/Both: Both
Character Description: The purest definition of an All-American if ever the term was the be coined to anyone. Blake stands at a sturdy six-foot-three with a lean physique to his frame spent from working out and posing for a few cameras to being a decent linebacker on his best days. He is a brunett, his hair a soft brown as opposed to a jet or full black, with contacts usually worn to help make his normal blue eyes pop to an icy gray. He wears his hair in a French Crop Style with just a little scruff which starts near the jawframe that connects towards his upper face and ears downward to the chin itself, that of which isn’t exactly pointy, but doesn’t scream being square-jawed nor cleft at the same time.
Character Biography (Small): Every city needs foundation and that’s what the Farris family excelled at, Farris Foundations Inc. to be quite exact. Daniel Farris was quite the proficient Architect alongside his wife Lana. Naturally, they hoped it would run off on to their three sons, Blake as the oldest clearly being their top choice. He was good with his mathematics, knew his way around a sketch and pencil and paper and could put together simple structures like a treehouse rather well. Still, it wasn’t exactly what he wanted in life. A rebellious phase, his parents called it. He went into sports over them wishing he pushed academics. He honored their request to Major in business, but truth be told, he had other ventures in mind. Lastly, apart of his rebelliousness, they assumed his attraction to men would also just go away, even putting him together with some homely girl clad out from the South who wanted nothing more than to essentially secure her bag with someone much more loftier than her. She wasn’t exactly a bad girl, but Lacy just wasn’t his type either. He made this clear, but now he was just simply going to have to show her more than he could tell her. Yes, Lacy was very much that underprivileged individual who was brought along the ride to be nothing more than one of the individuals who they ridiculed.
He was one of the last few off the boat, not by choice of his own. No. That belonged to the individual who insisted she bring as many bags than she could carry for a trip like this. High maintenance, dressing to impress; that was fine and all, but did Blake Farris really care? The answer was a flat-out no, especially when they came with the entitled diva flair and personality to themselves that made his blue eyes roll in annoyance. Still, he put on his best smile and carried her off the boat itself while holding on to their bags. The woes of someone poor trying to win the affection of someone who clearly barked up a different tree.
He was clad in a nice beige sweater, a red and black stripe around its v-neck form, followed with a nice white dress shirt underneath and pink shorts that stopped a little above his knees in form fitting fashion. His shoes were off because there was just no way he was going to trudge through heavy sand while carrying a wide load, not that Lacy was actually wide. She was just essentially dead weight and like it, he dropped her right on the sand while reserving an annoyed look to his face. He was just kidding though, as she put it with a giggle.
Roswell and Rivers were well gone at the current moment. That meant for now, he was going to focus on some his own skills by taking in the sights. There were pine trees, coconuts plastered on other trees here and there and even shoots of bamboo scattered among the forest.
“Hey, fetch me one of your sewing needles,” he commanded. “I can make some string from the coconuts up there. I should be able to get us something fastened around here.”
Oh, he was such a leading man in her eyes. She quickly reached for her own bags and found what he needed, but for good measure, he also told her to check the boat for some twine or rope as well. While she was away, he was able to focus on doing what he set himself out to do as he pulled a knife from his pocket. It might not be as clean as one would with a machete, but he could cut the bamboo with this, sharpen some of the ends so that they could be planted into the sand and weigh it down with something so they did not fall or rise out from it as a result. He was the son of an architect if nothing more, after all.