* / underground, it takes to root [inc]

[kara]

ABRAHAM MILO LOCKE
^{in the air,
i am sensing a change in weather.
in the end,
the path is clear.
does anyone remember here?
did you all just think i'd disappear?
crazy life.
who do you think you'd taken away?
crazy life.}

how about we start with the obvious – what's your name?

^{my name is abraham michael locke. i go by hambone, because i tend to show off and do some weird shit. especially in front of a camera. my parents named me after the president, not that dude from the bible. go figure, right? when i asked about it, my mother said she hoped the name would keep me honest.. and then she cried.}

how old are you? and is there a story surrounding your birth? anything interesting?

^{i'm eighteen years old. almost nineteen, actually. i was born and raised in one of those lame suburban areas to a "picture perfect" family. they had made themselves a list: get married, find a house with a backyard, have a child. i was just another thing on a list.}

how would you describe your personality?

^{this is basically your character's personality.}

how would you define "the good life"?

^{how would a define the good life? how about, a life that isn't mine.}

if you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

^{one to two sentences is fine.}

what do you tend to like?

^{well, i like to smoke. cigarettes or that herbal shit, either works for me. i enjoy drinking to, but since it's illegal to drink under twenty one, i don't drink as often as i smoke. i like my wang, and i love to has sex using my wang. blow jobs are cool, too. i can board - surf and snow, sure, but skate is my forté. i like tattoos. women who doll up are amazing; boarding passed a country club is killer. i mean, have you ever tried to board home with a hard on? hard shit, dude. hard shit. i love junk food, it's pretty much all i eat, when i eat. i love music, and i can play a handful of instruments: drums, guitar, bass, piano, and saxophone. i'm one of those well rounded assholes, at least.}

okay, and what do you tend to dislike?

^{when it comes to dislike i really don't dislike much. i don't like having to move most days, but i do. i don't like eating most of the time, but i do. i don't like doing homework, but i do. pretty much everything i dislike is something that there is just no avoiding.}

what are you scared of? everyone has some fears.

^{list your characters fears here – there should be no less than three. remember, write in first-person!}

do you have any secrets?

^{this is obvious. remember, write in first-person!}

how's your love life?

^{this is obvious.}

if you were given a yacht, what would you name it?

^{this is obvious.}

what is your quirkiest habit, and how long have you had it?

^{one to two sentences is fine.}

do you have any goals?

^{list at least two in first-person format!}

would you rather always lose or never play?

^{this is obvious.}

great. and now, could you give me an overview of your life? what's happened so far?

^{this is basically your character's history. it should be written completely in first-person format!}

anything else?

^{please specify your character's member group here.}

^{hey! my name is kara, and i've been roleplaying for three years. my character's play-by is ash stymest.}

he had thought he had lucked out. that they had lucked out. he only had a few bruises, a couple of scratches, and a small burn that ran up the back of his leg. he had even managed to keep a hold of his beloved girlfriend as they made their way through the water and the wreckage to the nearby bit of land. she had received a few cuts along her arms and one rather large gash on her soft cheek. she still looked beautiful, even with the blood dripping from her face.

he had even laughed and made a joke about nothing having gone wrong. about how someone upstairs obviously wanted them to be alright. just as he was about to open his mouth to say that someone upstairs must have wanted to scare them into something, his eyes found the blood. he would have asked her to marry him then, but that blood slapped him into silence. her eyes found the blood, too. he stared for a moment and then looked around for someone with a very serious injury. he was sure she must have gotten someone else's blood on her. nothing could be wrong with her. nothing could be wrong with their baby. their baby was two months in the making, it couldn't possibly bleed.

it did, though. he had thrown up while she washed to blood away and they cried inone anothers arms for a bit. then, they walked their separate ways on the beach. he headed north and she headed south. that had been three days ago, and he still hadn't spoken to suri. he had paid for this stupid boat ride. he had gotten her pregnant. he couldn't help but blame himself. he slept on the soft, yet sharp, sand of the beach every night. alone. he watched several people find one another and find a savior in one another. he wanted to find suri. he wanted to take everything back. he wanted to ask her to marry him. most importantly, he wanted to have a phone right about now. not for rescue and not for pizza or anything practical like that.

he wanted to call the decorator his mother had suggested and tell them to remove the crib and the curtains and the rocking chair. he didn't want to take suri home to find the nursery of the child they would never have. he reached forward and ran some of the water on the burn on the back of his leg and some on his sun burnt shoulders. then, he stood up and began his search for suri. she was alone farther down the beach and she looked very sad. he took a deep breath and wrapped himself around her, without permission. "i love you," he said, feeling that tight tickle in the back of his throat. he wanted to cry. he was nearly crying. but he wouldn't. he needed to be strong for her. "i love you very much."