OK, so do you want to bump up the other 1x1s we were in or do you want to start a new one?
(I was think maybe a realistic fiction coming of age inspriational something or another...)
Eh, whatever you want really, just wonderin'.
GOD bless ya!
Sorry, so sorry...I have dogs shows all week, and I apologize for being on less...
((We can do an RP. I don't want to disappoint anyone...))
((Nah, I'm not pressured. ^-^ And I wanna hear your ideas.))
Those are good ideas. ^-^ I'll let you decide what we do. It's your thread, after all. I'm not picky.
((Okay, okay. I like the idea of the city orphan coming to live in the swamps
((I could be the city orphan. :) And I'm cool with either of 'em.))
((We can let it develop. ^-^ I'll have to post my skellie in a bit, if that's alright.))
((15 sounds good. ^-^))
((Sorry 'bout that...Internet got temporarily taken out...))
Name: Sven Taylor
Looks: Sven is rather tall, especially for his age, at about 6'0" tall. He is skinny and bony, with very little muscle and has fair, pale skin. His hair is dark blond, grown out shaggy and long so it falls in his face. His eyes are a sharp pale blue. He has long, sharp features, with high cheekbones, a chiseled jaw, and a long nose, which is crooked. He has large hands with bony fingers. He has big feet as well, and knobbly knees and elbows. He has an awkward look about him, like he's still growing into himself.
He generally wears dark jeans and t-shirt. All of his clothes tend to be dark and muted, nothing very noticeable about them. He has a piercing in his right ear.
Sven sat quietly at the bus station. He stared down at his battered shoes, eyes following the laces over and over again. He didn't look up at his surroundings.
This was just another foster home, another place where he wasn't welcome.
He quietly kicked at his little suitcase, watching as his foot made dusty little marks against it's worn out black surface.
Sven looked up when he heard the man address him. He blinked slowly and stood up, unfolding himself.
"Um...yeah..." He mumbled, not making eye contact. He shuffled his feet slowly.
"Um...hi." Sven said, not meeting anyone's eyes or taking the hands offered out to him. He went back to staring at the floor after he had glanced at everyone. He shuffled his feet and wrung his hands a little.
Sven flinched under her touch, shifting away from it as if it burned. He bent down silently to pick up his suitcase and obediently follow them to the car. He didn't look up at any of the, he didn't make eye contact.
He was unwanted, no matter what they tried to say.
"Yes Mr. Matthews." Sven practically whispered. He carefully folded himself into the car. He didn't react visibly when they called him a new brother, but inside he flinched.
They didn't mean that. They never did. None of them.
He sat down in the nearest seat, quietly, sliding his suitcase down at his feet.
"Not much." Sven responded, keeping his response short and simple and quiet as he sat there. He watched the car floor as they drove. He never really seemed to look up, just keeping his head lowered so his hair fell into his eyes and hid half of his face.
Sven obediently nodded, not looking up for more than a quick glance. He climbed silently out of the car, pulling his battered suitcase with him.
The glance he had taken at the boy was just a quick one, but it told him everything he needed to know. Everything he already knew.
He was not wanted here. He never was.
He shifted, a little uncomfortably.
Sven just nodded, barely looking around at his surroundings through the blond curtains his hair made. He watched the other boy...Nate was it?...as he led him through the house.
When he led him to the bedroom, Sven only looked up when he told him he would have the bottom bunk.
He moved obediently to carefully set his suitcase on the bunk.
Sven looked up from his place, lying on the bottom bunk quietly with one of his sketchbooks. His pencil stopped over the paper and he put his hand over the marks that were already on the white. He silently shook his head, huddling closer over his sketchbook.
Sven flinched inwardly at Nate's words, though nothing seemed to show on the outside.
He was used to that, the venom, the harshness. Hardly any of them had wanted him. None of them, actually. Not really. He was used to it, but it still hurt. A lot.
He stayed where he was, not moving for a moment.
"I don't feel very well." He whispered quietly.