Post by Axel on Nov 29, 2010 22:09:31 GMT -5
Name: Axel Rossi [Rossi - Italian for "redhead"].
Age: Twenty seven.
Gender: Male.
Height: Six feet and four inches.
Weight: One hundred thirty five pounds.
Personality: Axel's what you would call a douchebox. Because he's such a douche that a mere bag couldn't possibly contain his entire douche - osity. He needs a fucking box to carry all that shit. But whatevs. Deep inside he may have a spark of decency, 'cause he has somewhat of a soft spot. He seems pretty apathetic, but really only to those who have a boring story to tell. He plays favorites, though. Only the best students in class get treated well. His criteria for a student to be deemed "good" is A. Looks. B. Their ability to amuse him. C. Looks. Yep, that's Axel.
History: Somewhere in some hot, desert - y place, a newly - wedded Italian couple spent their honeymoon doing the deed. That's when, unfortunately, Axel was conceived. He was raised fine; dropped a few times on the head as a child, started smoking at fourteen, had lots of tension with his parents. A slacker.
The thing that changed him, though, was a cute little spiky - haired blonde kid. Lots of spunk. No matter how much he tried, Axel Rossi couldn't get this kid out of his head. He couldn't. Because deep inside his charred, bitter heart, was a place reserved for that blonde cutie. It'd take a whole lot for a student to find that spot in him.
House: Thunderhoof.
Allies: None. Yet.
Enemies: None yet.
Love Interest: Nobody.
Year at School: Teaching.
Subject: Spanish [surprising, ain't it, he speaks Spanish instead of Italian].
Peace or Power: Neutral/doesn't give a fuck.
Sample Post: Approaching his classroom with a lazy stride, Axel Rossi let out a sigh. Too many memories of his own high school days had flooded his mind. Particularly, memories of soft, yet spiky yellow hair . . . blue eyes. God, those blue eyes. The darkened bags beneath his eyes told people he would take shit from nobody at this ungodly hour. He groaned, trudging through the doors of his first class. On his first day. Of teaching. Spanish. Ugh.
Axel smoothed his red hair back, bracing himself for the beginning of the school day. "Buenos dias, pendejos." Greeted he with a slurred voice. He paused there, taking a moment to realize what he'd just said. "Ah, Lesson number one. The word pendejo is a privilege word. You gotta earn the right to say it in Mr. Rossi's class. Got it memorized?" He raised an eyebrow at the class. "Bien. Let's move on."
Age: Twenty seven.
Gender: Male.
Height: Six feet and four inches.
Weight: One hundred thirty five pounds.
Personality: Axel's what you would call a douchebox. Because he's such a douche that a mere bag couldn't possibly contain his entire douche - osity. He needs a fucking box to carry all that shit. But whatevs. Deep inside he may have a spark of decency, 'cause he has somewhat of a soft spot. He seems pretty apathetic, but really only to those who have a boring story to tell. He plays favorites, though. Only the best students in class get treated well. His criteria for a student to be deemed "good" is A. Looks. B. Their ability to amuse him. C. Looks. Yep, that's Axel.
History: Somewhere in some hot, desert - y place, a newly - wedded Italian couple spent their honeymoon doing the deed. That's when, unfortunately, Axel was conceived. He was raised fine; dropped a few times on the head as a child, started smoking at fourteen, had lots of tension with his parents. A slacker.
The thing that changed him, though, was a cute little spiky - haired blonde kid. Lots of spunk. No matter how much he tried, Axel Rossi couldn't get this kid out of his head. He couldn't. Because deep inside his charred, bitter heart, was a place reserved for that blonde cutie. It'd take a whole lot for a student to find that spot in him.
House: Thunderhoof.
Allies: None. Yet.
Enemies: None yet.
Love Interest: Nobody.
Year at School: Teaching.
Subject: Spanish [surprising, ain't it, he speaks Spanish instead of Italian].
Peace or Power: Neutral/doesn't give a fuck.
Sample Post: Approaching his classroom with a lazy stride, Axel Rossi let out a sigh. Too many memories of his own high school days had flooded his mind. Particularly, memories of soft, yet spiky yellow hair . . . blue eyes. God, those blue eyes. The darkened bags beneath his eyes told people he would take shit from nobody at this ungodly hour. He groaned, trudging through the doors of his first class. On his first day. Of teaching. Spanish. Ugh.
Axel smoothed his red hair back, bracing himself for the beginning of the school day. "Buenos dias, pendejos." Greeted he with a slurred voice. He paused there, taking a moment to realize what he'd just said. "Ah, Lesson number one. The word pendejo is a privilege word. You gotta earn the right to say it in Mr. Rossi's class. Got it memorized?" He raised an eyebrow at the class. "Bien. Let's move on."
