So.. I had an idea that I wanted to base it off of a kidnapping? If that sounds okay?
((I'd so want to be in this if I hadn't started a 1x1 about a kidnapping a few days ago!))
((I am fine with it... so any ideas for how it will work?))
((Okay, awesome :D))
((Erm.... nerp ._.))
(( Okay, will think XD))
wats up everybody
((i like it! so much better than any idea that I would have had!))
([It's perfect! I was thinking gray, real drab and not very decorated.))
((Oh my gosh! I am so sorry! When I was scanning for any unread 1x1's for some reason my eyes totaly fluttered over this one! I will make mine right now!))
((Almost done! Sorry it is taking os long.. I enjoy detail :D))
Name: Harlow Fender Saila
Looks: Harlow works a buzz cut, has naturally dark curly locks when long. He often wears a black bandana (see below in Bio). The clothes aren’t too modern, just a gray jumpsuit and white shirt. He can casually pull the suit down and around his waist, tying the sleeves into a short not. He has a serious, almost implacable appearing face, but in all reality is maturely optimistic, kind and intelligent. He has deep azure eyes, and in the sun a light foamy blue. He has thick arched eyebrows across a smooth face that recently lost most of its baby fat. He has a nice tan over smooth, trimmed arms and legs. He has a nice long torso (maybe a little bit of abs), and just lanky body. Most girls woot and swoon at the sight of Harlow but he hardly decides to act upon their hints of absurd flirtation.
Personality: Due to years in the base - enduring the hard work and braving the countless tests, exercises, and experiments – the organization that holds this camp together would conclude he was and is a success of their work. He is devoting and loyal, stern; has the harsh aura but can express much clemency. He is well known around camp, not just for being the coaches’ pet, hot jock, and good buddy, but because he was almost brought up there as a child. He practically knows the place inside and out. He – in one way – was brought up on the ‘wrong side’. But yet, he understands that this arrangement for kids, is putting them through harsh and miserable tasks that sometimes he has to brave.
He does often, cute, barely noticeable things. When stressed, he puffs his cheeks and sort of crosses his eyes in an agitated manner. Harlow also massages the nape of his neck when shy.
Bio: As I have already mentioned, Harlow practically grew up at the base. It’s his home. He never really thought what life was like out of it, he knew and wishes often he could change some rules, but he never craved to destroy it. He saw it only as a good discipliner for the teens that might need it. He was orphaned at a young infancy. His parents left him at the base with a name, medical information, and a shabby black bandana to wrap him in. The common ragamuffin story. The base taught him, cultivated his mind and ideas. He learned to fend himself at a stout age and continued living like that for a long time. Every year though – on his birthday – his parents send him a letter explaining how much they wish to see him again. He disregards it each time, in no mood to hear, talk, read, or touch anything involving them; only seeing much hate and resentment toward them.
Dog Tag Info: Saila, Harlow, F. 309-149-6124
15 years, Soldier/Part time Teacher
Name: Rebel Jericho Miletus
Looks: His hair is black and in the prescribed crew cut, it's black and if it's allowed to grow it's ever to slightly wavy. Rebel doesn't grow it out though, first off he live son a military base, he isn't allowed to grow it out, second off he's too lazy too. Having a crew cut is easier than having long hair in his mind.
He has very dark brown eyes that almost look black, he his from the Mediterranean,, is eyes are slightly almond-ish. He has normal facial features for his race. He has a slightly stern expression, though sometimes you'll see him smile and see a slight mischeivious twinkle in his eyes. One of his most prominent scars cuts through his right eye brow, it's an inch and a half long scar that goes diagonally threw his right eyes brow, the 'high end' of the scar pointing toward his ears and the 'low end' towards his nose.
His skin is a warm golden brown, he's scarred up and pretty muscular. He's not very tall and is at the low end of the 'average' height for his age, but he makes up for that by being strong fast and having a very powerful deep voice that's deeper than most boys' his age and slightly scratchy and rough.
He pretty much always wears his uniform, even on days he's allowed to wear what he wants, which are rare he'll wear his PT gear or BDUs. Some people question if he owns anything else.
Personality: Rebel is tough as nails, he's not very good at making friends, or socializing. Though he is good at the military type stuff so he was promoted fast, however he's been told he won't be promoted to Corprol until he shows he can lead better and follow orders better. He sometimes disobeys orders and does things his own way, he's a 'junior instructor' in other words he works under the normal trainers as a helper and he has a hot temper, he's not very controlled and doesn't seem to have to much motivation to change his angry ways. He is very hard headed and can get violent when he's angry.
History: Rebel has been at the 'camp' since he was 'kidnapped' at 11. Truth is he wasn't really kidnapped, he was picked up. Rebel had a bad family situations, his father was a drunk and so was his mother, he was exposed to violence at a young age from both parents, he had an older brother who sort of helped raise him for a time, though his older brother, Lyco wasn't very good at raising Rebel. When Rebel was 11 he ran away because hi brother had just been arrested for shoplifting and rebel didn't want to stay in the house with just his parents.
Dog Tag Info: Miletus, Rebel, J. 933-125-6033
13 years, Soldier
(Sure, you can start.)
Remi jumped out of her rack(bed), and grabbed her PT gear off of her footlocker. Darting into the restroom she changed, cmae out and made her rack. The recruits had just been woken up with the normal trash can lids, bugles and yelling. Remi stood in front of her neatly made rack, she was the lower rack a very new recruit had the upper rack, the new recruit was still runnng around trying to figure out what to do, inspection was satrting.
Rebel had already made his bunk and was ready for PT as a junior instructor he helped inspect the recruits barracks. The barracks were 'gender nuetral' in other words one side of the room had guys' racks the other girls' Rebel stood atattention outside the senior instructor door, waiting for him to come out.
Harlow stepped into the room, standing attention as he poised his hands behind his back in a formerly manner and commenced a slow walk down the barrack's hall the soldiers had made. His face was stern and his azure eyes danced along the beds and people. Something caught his eye and he stopped, puffing up his chest with a swallow of air. He turned to the soldier - a young girl - and glared her down. He pointed at her bed, the covers tossed across the spread with crinkles and wrinkles. "What is that, soldier?" He inquired.
The recruit next to Remi was lectured about her bunk. The girl didn'ta ctually answer their tranier's question. A stout boy, junior trater, followed the main trainer. His name was Rebel, Remi knew that, the main traner was Harlow.
"What's you're problem recruit?!" Rebel shouted at the girl, he as the junior instructor had teh job of yelling and making sur ethings got done, he was mostly there to scare, yell, and figuritively whip the recruits into shape. He was the PT instructor, thoughs he wans't exactly sur eif itw as allowed sometime he did hit the recruits, but the 'wipping into shape' usaully meant miles or runninga dn hours of PT and O-course.
"Senior DI Harlow asked you a question, what do you say!?" Rebel yelled his voice rough, slightly hoarse and deep, most DI(Drill instructor)'s voices were rough from yelling all the time. TEh recruit next to her looked liek she was about to cry,
"I don't know..." she said facing Harlow.
Rebel's anger showed,
"Idiot!" he roared, "He is your instructor, you are a recruit, you will address him as sir!" Rebel yelled, getting in the girl's face. Remi stayed perfectly still, her bunk should pass in spection, she'd learned how to make it and make it well.
Harlow clutched his shoulder. "That's enough, Rebel." He stated calmly. He looked back at the soldier. "Get it cleaned up. You'll be doing laps today at lunch."
Rebel backed off, and turned to walk down the row of bunks and finish the inspection with Harlow. He didn't say anything to the girl, shed be skipping lunch to run lapss, plus she had to remake her bed, that would be enough punishment he guessed. Rebel kne whis place, he as the junior instructor was teh tough, mean, adn angry one, but the senior instructor was the mentor, the one who controolled Rebel and made the recruits actually understood things. Sometime there was a midlevel instructor between them who would show the recruits the ropes and be the main instuctor, but there wans't oen now so Rebel adn Harlw split the teach duties. Rebel did PT/O-course and hand to hand combat with Harlow 'assiting' i.e. supervising hom, and Harlow did everything else such as gun, tactics, education, and anything else that needed to be taught.
Remi was next fro inspection, she was in ehr PT uniform like everyone else, shirt tucked in laces tucked in, her hydration gear, i.e. canteen was around her waist, canteen on her right hip like she'd been trained. Remi was good at most things including regulations, guns, and mental stuff but when it came to PT, O-Course, and Hadn-to-Hand she had alot of trouble.