Post by Bernabé Arrero-Fernando on Jun 26, 2009 22:42:58 GMT -5
AUTHOR'S NOTE:Evening, dollies and dollettes, Fred here, finally submitting my app. I want to say hey and stress how "in progress" my little Nabé is; for one, I hae no picture up yet for his kingship's, and I couldn't find one for him. For another, I'm still introducing my own self to his character. Please be patient with me, and give me some nice practice, ne?~
Let me also say a few things about him so you must understand some things; Bernabé is Spanish. That means that his name has 2 "last names", his first (as is traditional) inherited from the . His real name is, in fact, Bernabé. To call him by the name "Fernando" is, formal, and would be his "last name" in English (Fernando isn't really used.)
Another thing; Nabé is pure-D-bona-fide bastard concentrate. I doubt he'll ever get laid.
And, question: Are pets allowed in dorms? It is something important to his character whether they are or not, so I'd like an answer. Please and thank you!~ ^.^
~*~*~*
- * - * - * - * - * -
Name: ...Fred.
Age: 15
Roleplaying Experience: On and off for a good 6 years
How you found the site: My friend here showed me the site and bound and gagged me until I caved.
- * - * - * - * - * -
Name: Arrero Fernando Bernabé
Gender: Male
Age: 16
Alias: He goes by "Bernabé", or "Nabé", for anyone who would care to call him anything cutesy.
Hair Color: Something browning-auburn
Eye Color: Blue, a near steelish-periwinkle
Skin Tone: slightly tan
Height: 5'4"
Weight: 146; not skinny, but definitely not chunky
Wealth: Lower-middle class
Sexual Orientation: Pansexual
Why they are in La Campana: Nabé was caught at his last school (a Catholic school) kissing a boy; once his parents found out, they were thoroughly convinced that the next and last thing he should see in his childhood was a monastery, but he managed to convince them that this institute would do much better for his "problem". [/size]
- * - * - * - * - * -
Likes:
Dislikes:
Turn Ons:
Turn Offs:
Nervous Habits:
Fears:
Goals/Aspirations:
Appearance: Nabé was always teased for being short; as of now, and for the rest of his life, he shall stand at a measly five-foot-four. He's a bit chubby, giving him a permanently boyish look that he openly resents. Down his waist and lower back are a few clumps of rusty flecks, as well as on the flesh surrounding his ankles and a few clumps on his shoulders, and a dark mole on his forehead, directly above the bridge of his nose. Nabé's hair is kept rather short and tapers to shaved near the skull the farther down his nape one looks. His hair near his face is a good deal longer and stretches clear to his shoulders. He has a mod-bang that flutters a bit over a round face, accompanied by lashes that are naturally long and dark; thus, looks uncannily lolita-esque from a bust-shot.
Bernabé loves the heat, and the warmer he feels, the better. People outside of his family are unaware of his freckles because he almost never bares skin save his face and hands. He's prone to layering clothes, sweater-vests with dark colors and cargo pants, beaten-up old tennis shoes.
Personality: Bernabé may look sweet, but one should keep it a rule of thumb to never judge a book by its cover. The teenager has a nose for trouble, whether it is sticking firecrackers in the urinals or putting pink hair-dye in the Calculus teacher's shampoo. Such a nose has evolved this child with the necessary tools to thrive in its personally condemned environment; for one, he'd lie on his own damn mother sooner than tell the truth, and one is liable to believe him, as he's so good at it. Just as well as he can get into trouble, he can also get out of it. This skill has proved useful, as seen in the very reason little Nabé in in La Campana in the first place. Another skill he has is to sit and watch, brownnose and worm his way into the good eye of adults...select adults. If the subject is too interesting, Barnabé can't resist rubbing even them the wrong way.
Bernabé doesn't have many friends; this is because of his strange habit of getting them into the most precarious of situations and his very own way of showing "love". He brags of the yacht he owns in his backyard (which is, in reality, a crummy molehill) and pushes them around until they beg him to shut up. He's the type of person that asserts himself and seems to become a leader, no matter how slimy he appears to be.
The boy has his weaknesses. Bernabé has something of a pride problem...not that he's full of himself, but rather that he's amazingly self-conscious. He'd never back down from a challenge, no matter how ludicrous is may be (in order to get them to like him). He also clings in a way that he can be annoying, so he more that usually ends up pushing people away because he's desperate for attention. Nabé will find dirt on anyone to get into anyone's good graces or put that very person to his mercy, but he tries to avoid too much conflict. Such conflict usually results in a good deck to the face, which isn't appreciated on his part very much. [/font]
- * - * - * - * - * -
Father: Adán, 34
Mother: Clara, 36
Sibling/s:
Other important relatives: Tía Pricila and Tío Juan (38, 41)
Pets: Raquel, 2-year-old Common Chameleon
History:Bernabé grew up at the mercy of his older brother and sister. When he wasn't being forced to get his fatass on the roof and retrieve an overkicked, displaced soccer ball, he was having eyeliner slathered clear down his cheeks and fitted into a sundress. He had little choice in the matter; either he went along with it with somewhat considerable willingness, or the little tidbit would slip to mamí's ears that Raquel was the one that got into the refrigerator. It was, overall, traumatic, and it's understandable that the child would end up either a snake or a nervous wreck.
Apparently, it was a little of both.
At the age of eleven, Bernabé was enrolled in a local Catholic school, much adorned for its high marks,obedient children, and stiff collars. He, since then, had his religion shoved down his throat. However, he was still a douchebag that led a group of less-than-obedient schoolboys who were really playing the boy as a puppet. When it came to doing dirty work, Nabé was left with the worst of it. This ended on a game of truth-or-dare turning sour, where the child was dared to make out in a closet with a child he very much liked. This led to his prompt discovery and his redirection and reprimand at La Campa.
Roleplaying Sample: Dammit.
Midstride, the child stopped to clench at his scarf and grant it another coil around his tanned neck. It was more of a fashion statement than anything; it had to be a good seventy-five degrees outside, which was merciful weather in the heartland of Spain. He, quite frankly, loved it; it was nice and hot for him, and how anyone could deal with anything below eighty degrees...well, the reason just completely escaped him. He couldn't think straight in the cold; he spent too much time concentrating on maintaining a stable temperature, attempting to will himself warmer.
Bernabé's morning was ruined by just a squint down his bufanda; there was a little chunk worn from a corner of it. Not so small that it wasn't going to be noticed. He knew of why it was gone, as well.
Raquel.
Yes, when the little lizard was peeved, she made it known. For the past few days, she had been moved from her normal enclosure, a thin, glass box hidden skillfully in his room. It was broken, rather cracked, and there was no way in hell he was going to let the little dear stay there, under risk of sustaining a cut.
"Not my chameleon."
He rotated around, a perfect, if not mechanically relapsing three-sixty. From the looks of it, no one had heard him. Good. He pressed a thumb to his chin and bowed his head in solemn thought, considering, weighing his options.
He could skip his Algebra II class, run clear across the city to a decent petstore and spend his hard-hoarded and weaseled-cash on a sturdy enclosure for Raquel, hope he had enough for at least a return trip home on a bus, and smuggle the suspicious container in his room as inconspicuously as possible;
Or, B; he could go to class and sit through another lecture about the relationship of absolute value on a coordinate plane, doodle poorly-rendered scribbles in his margins, and silently pray to God himself that the class would hurry up and end, and spend another few nights with an ornery Chameleon haunting his room, risking discovery and Raquel's inevitable condemnation to his parents (which meant a petstore).
It was Wednesday. There was no chance of him getting off after school; he had things to do, money to squander, and people to openly harass.
He glanced to the door.
He glanced to the street.
...He had a "B" in the class. Bernabé could manage. He always did.
{Author's Note:Sorry for the long, lizardly intro-post. I promise you, not all of them shall be as such. XD;}
- * - * - * - * - * -
Songs:
Birthday: January 5, 1994 (Capricorn, Water Rooster) [/font]
- * - * - * - * - * -
Let me also say a few things about him so you must understand some things; Bernabé is Spanish. That means that his name has 2 "last names", his first (as is traditional) inherited from the . His real name is, in fact, Bernabé. To call him by the name "Fernando" is, formal, and would be his "last name" in English (Fernando isn't really used.)
Another thing; Nabé is pure-D-bona-fide bastard concentrate. I doubt he'll ever get laid.
And, question: Are pets allowed in dorms? It is something important to his character whether they are or not, so I'd like an answer. Please and thank you!~ ^.^
~*~*~*
Bernabé Arrero Fernando
[/size]- * - * - * - * - * -
&&--You, who shall pull the strings
[/size][/center]Name: ...Fred.
Age: 15
Roleplaying Experience: On and off for a good 6 years
How you found the site: My friend here showed me the site and bound and gagged me until I caved.
- * - * - * - * - * -
&&--The character cheat sheet
[/size][/center]Name: Arrero Fernando Bernabé
Gender: Male
Age: 16
Alias: He goes by "Bernabé", or "Nabé", for anyone who would care to call him anything cutesy.
Hair Color: Something browning-auburn
Eye Color: Blue, a near steelish-periwinkle
Skin Tone: slightly tan
Height: 5'4"
Weight: 146; not skinny, but definitely not chunky
Wealth: Lower-middle class
Sexual Orientation: Pansexual
Why they are in La Campana: Nabé was caught at his last school (a Catholic school) kissing a boy; once his parents found out, they were thoroughly convinced that the next and last thing he should see in his childhood was a monastery, but he managed to convince them that this institute would do much better for his "problem". [/size]
- * - * - * - * - * -
&&--What makes the clock tick
[/size][/center]Likes:
- Getting his way
- His little Raquel
- Cold foods, like Popsicles (especially Firecracers! )
- Old-style Arcade Games
- Technology
- Carlos Santana
- The Heat (Weather, Conditions)
- Comic Books
- Rock (Music)
Dislikes:
- Cold Conditions...thoroughly
- Alcohol, drugs (because he doesn't like loosing control)
- Being lied to
- Any and all animals exceding the size of a cat
- Rap, Reggaeton (Music)
- Being betrayed by friends
- Mint, Raspberry, or Blueberry anything
- Getting Embarrased
Turn Ons:
- Dominance, dominance, dominance (he loves him some dominance.)
- Kissing
- Sly types
- Strong-willed people
Turn Offs:
- blood
- hair-pulling
- excess of affection
- knives, sharp objects, ect.
Nervous Habits:
- When flustered or angered, tends to mix languages
- Laughs when nervous (or figured out)
- Tends to retreat to Raquel when dissapointed, or pets her
- When unnerved, nervous, bothered by something, etc. he "prays" by touching his chest, left shoulder, then right shoulder
Fears:
- Loosing his chameleon in any way (from her death, her wandering, or someone taking her)
- Being untrusted. Lying is his way of surviving.
Goals/Aspirations:
- To be insanely rich.
- To own a popsicle factory. No, really.
- To have everyone kiss his ass.
Appearance: Nabé was always teased for being short; as of now, and for the rest of his life, he shall stand at a measly five-foot-four. He's a bit chubby, giving him a permanently boyish look that he openly resents. Down his waist and lower back are a few clumps of rusty flecks, as well as on the flesh surrounding his ankles and a few clumps on his shoulders, and a dark mole on his forehead, directly above the bridge of his nose. Nabé's hair is kept rather short and tapers to shaved near the skull the farther down his nape one looks. His hair near his face is a good deal longer and stretches clear to his shoulders. He has a mod-bang that flutters a bit over a round face, accompanied by lashes that are naturally long and dark; thus, looks uncannily lolita-esque from a bust-shot.
Bernabé loves the heat, and the warmer he feels, the better. People outside of his family are unaware of his freckles because he almost never bares skin save his face and hands. He's prone to layering clothes, sweater-vests with dark colors and cargo pants, beaten-up old tennis shoes.
Personality: Bernabé may look sweet, but one should keep it a rule of thumb to never judge a book by its cover. The teenager has a nose for trouble, whether it is sticking firecrackers in the urinals or putting pink hair-dye in the Calculus teacher's shampoo. Such a nose has evolved this child with the necessary tools to thrive in its personally condemned environment; for one, he'd lie on his own damn mother sooner than tell the truth, and one is liable to believe him, as he's so good at it. Just as well as he can get into trouble, he can also get out of it. This skill has proved useful, as seen in the very reason little Nabé in in La Campana in the first place. Another skill he has is to sit and watch, brownnose and worm his way into the good eye of adults...select adults. If the subject is too interesting, Barnabé can't resist rubbing even them the wrong way.
Bernabé doesn't have many friends; this is because of his strange habit of getting them into the most precarious of situations and his very own way of showing "love". He brags of the yacht he owns in his backyard (which is, in reality, a crummy molehill) and pushes them around until they beg him to shut up. He's the type of person that asserts himself and seems to become a leader, no matter how slimy he appears to be.
The boy has his weaknesses. Bernabé has something of a pride problem...not that he's full of himself, but rather that he's amazingly self-conscious. He'd never back down from a challenge, no matter how ludicrous is may be (in order to get them to like him). He also clings in a way that he can be annoying, so he more that usually ends up pushing people away because he's desperate for attention. Nabé will find dirt on anyone to get into anyone's good graces or put that very person to his mercy, but he tries to avoid too much conflict. Such conflict usually results in a good deck to the face, which isn't appreciated on his part very much. [/font]
- * - * - * - * - * -
&&--A glimpse of the past
[/size][/center]Father: Adán, 34
Mother: Clara, 36
Sibling/s:
- Alonzo, 21
- Felippe, 9
- Rufina, 15
Other important relatives: Tía Pricila and Tío Juan (38, 41)
Pets: Raquel, 2-year-old Common Chameleon
History:Bernabé grew up at the mercy of his older brother and sister. When he wasn't being forced to get his fatass on the roof and retrieve an overkicked, displaced soccer ball, he was having eyeliner slathered clear down his cheeks and fitted into a sundress. He had little choice in the matter; either he went along with it with somewhat considerable willingness, or the little tidbit would slip to mamí's ears that Raquel was the one that got into the refrigerator. It was, overall, traumatic, and it's understandable that the child would end up either a snake or a nervous wreck.
Apparently, it was a little of both.
At the age of eleven, Bernabé was enrolled in a local Catholic school, much adorned for its high marks,obedient children, and stiff collars. He, since then, had his religion shoved down his throat. However, he was still a douchebag that led a group of less-than-obedient schoolboys who were really playing the boy as a puppet. When it came to doing dirty work, Nabé was left with the worst of it. This ended on a game of truth-or-dare turning sour, where the child was dared to make out in a closet with a child he very much liked. This led to his prompt discovery and his redirection and reprimand at La Campa.
Roleplaying Sample: Dammit.
Midstride, the child stopped to clench at his scarf and grant it another coil around his tanned neck. It was more of a fashion statement than anything; it had to be a good seventy-five degrees outside, which was merciful weather in the heartland of Spain. He, quite frankly, loved it; it was nice and hot for him, and how anyone could deal with anything below eighty degrees...well, the reason just completely escaped him. He couldn't think straight in the cold; he spent too much time concentrating on maintaining a stable temperature, attempting to will himself warmer.
Bernabé's morning was ruined by just a squint down his bufanda; there was a little chunk worn from a corner of it. Not so small that it wasn't going to be noticed. He knew of why it was gone, as well.
Raquel.
Yes, when the little lizard was peeved, she made it known. For the past few days, she had been moved from her normal enclosure, a thin, glass box hidden skillfully in his room. It was broken, rather cracked, and there was no way in hell he was going to let the little dear stay there, under risk of sustaining a cut.
"Not my chameleon."
He rotated around, a perfect, if not mechanically relapsing three-sixty. From the looks of it, no one had heard him. Good. He pressed a thumb to his chin and bowed his head in solemn thought, considering, weighing his options.
He could skip his Algebra II class, run clear across the city to a decent petstore and spend his hard-hoarded and weaseled-cash on a sturdy enclosure for Raquel, hope he had enough for at least a return trip home on a bus, and smuggle the suspicious container in his room as inconspicuously as possible;
Or, B; he could go to class and sit through another lecture about the relationship of absolute value on a coordinate plane, doodle poorly-rendered scribbles in his margins, and silently pray to God himself that the class would hurry up and end, and spend another few nights with an ornery Chameleon haunting his room, risking discovery and Raquel's inevitable condemnation to his parents (which meant a petstore).
It was Wednesday. There was no chance of him getting off after school; he had things to do, money to squander, and people to openly harass.
He glanced to the door.
He glanced to the street.
...He had a "B" in the class. Bernabé could manage. He always did.
{Author's Note:Sorry for the long, lizardly intro-post. I promise you, not all of them shall be as such. XD;}
- * - * - * - * - * -
&&--Aditional Factoidz
[/size][/center]Songs:
- The Leader of the Pack, John Powell
Birthday: January 5, 1994 (Capricorn, Water Rooster) [/font]
- * - * - * - * - * -
