Post by ROGER DAVIS on Feb 17, 2010 14:11:16 GMT -5
Hi, my name is SAMMEH and this is my FIRST character. I found this site through AIB. Something you should know about me is descriptions in posts is my lover. Oh, and so is Adam Pascal <3.
Canon: RENT
Custom Title: pretty boy FRONT MAN
PHYSICAL
Age: 25
Gender: MALE
Appearance:
Height: 5'11
Body: thin
Other distinguishing features: tattoo of APRIL across his shoulder with a heart, recently placed three droplets of blood at the bottom of the heart.
Wardrobe: Roger wears mainly thrift store clothes, though he does have some nice shirts with...buttons? Honestly, he has nice clothes! He just chooses not to wear them often.[/ul]
Play By: Adam Pascal
PERSONALITY
General personality:
The first thing people say about Roger Davis is that he's young, but wise beyond his years. At only 25, Roger's dealt with things that many don't have to deal with in their lifetime. He's had to deal with the loss of his ex-girlfiend (in the most bloody and violent way, suicide in his bathtub), and the fact that he now has contracted a deadly disease by her hands. Roger has two distinct sides to him. One side is very outgoing, always willing to make people smile or laugh. He can easily be the life of the party if he wants to, calling back on the days of his fame when he could stop a room dead with a song. However, that all changed after April's death. Easily one of the most painful times of his life, he's not willing to talk about it, usually, and has only spoken about it to Mark. Roger's sure that Mimi knows, but he still feels uncomfortable talking about it. Around the anniversary of April's death, Roger usually can become very withdrawn. This is another side of Roger that is very hard for him to control; he can become angry, depressed or jealous very easy, leading usually to him locking himself somewhere to brood. He also has the ability to run from his problems, however this usually leads to Roger leaving, sometimes to the Loft upstairs, to Sante Fe.
Roger will freely admit that he used drugs in the past but is now clean and sober, trying to be the role model for younger kids and the poor of Alphabet City. He is always willing to be the rock for Mimi that she needs, although he can sometimes get quite jealous that she still dances at the Cat Scratch Club and often will wait for her to come home. Secretly, Roger always fears that Mimi will end up like April and leave him alone, though he hasn't spoken this fear to her.
Roger also has a very child-like sense of humour, however mixed with heavy un-childlike subjects. He freely talks about sex and women, and his ego can sometimes get the better of him (mainly when he's around his best friends).
Quotes, frequently used expressions: Dude, baby, bitchin'
Likes: (please list three)
Dislikes: (please list three)
Strengths: (please name three)
Kind
Loyal
Funny
Weaknesses:(please name three)
Jealous
Stubborn
self-loathing
BACKGROUND
Family: Anne and Robert Davis. Possible half-siblings from his father marrying another woman.
Date of Birth: August 13th
Education: High school graduate
Occupation: former bartender for Lava Gina. Currently umemployed
Worst past experience: His girlfriend killing herself in his bathroom, the night Mimi almost died
Best past experience: The night at the Life Cafe that he first kissed Mimi, and
Image: Rocker-type, but with a heart of gold.
History:
Born to a modest household to Anne and Robert Davis, Roger lived a decent life growing up. He always had an interest in music, and when he was five, his parents bought him his first guitar. Throughout middle school and high school, Roger's interests lied more in writing songs and playing the guitar than actually learning in school, and be barely passed high school. Upon leaving high school, he started a garage band which quickly launched him into the New York spotlight. His good looks and rough, rockstar voice made him easy game for the hundreds of groupies that seemed to come to the shows. The rush of sex and drugs caught up with Roger; it started innocently enough with cocaine to keep him awake for shows, but at one of the shows, he was introduced to heroin, and easily fell for it's charms. He went from show to show, drinking and sleeping with anyone he came in contact with.
It was on one of these shows that Roger met April, a pretty girl from a broken home that shared his interests, drugs and all. They quickly hooked up, and as Roger's fame started to die down, April stayed with him. They eventually moved into an apartment with Roger's friend Mark and his girlfriend Maureen, and the two tried to clean up their act and get clean. However, one morning, Roger woke up to the sound of the bath running. There was a note lying on the bed next to him. " WE'VE GOT AIDS". Instantly, Roger shot up and ran towards the bathroom, but April was already dead. This discovery and loss left Roger in a depression that Mark was unable to break him out of. Roger hardly left the house, convinced that hiding away from his problems would make them go away. He also had to deal with the forced withdrawl that Mark put him on, saying that he needed to get clean or he'd die. The withdrawl nearly killed him, and Roger spent a day in the hospital before it was found out that Roger had no insurance. Quickly booted back out onto the street, Roger was left with Maureen and Mark to bring him back to health, however they couldn't bring back his once good spirits. At the time, Roger didn't care whether he lived or died, and it left him extremely angry and bitter. The two friends were still good friends, however they walked on thin ice at some points, simply because Roger couldn't forget the fact that April was dead because of him.
He managed to get on medication for his disease, as well as get clean fully from drugs. It was christmas that he met Mimi. At first, he wasn't willing to have any sort of relationship with anyone; why have relationships when they all end in pain and heartache? Roger wasn't willing to give his heart or any other part of him to anyone, but Mimi was persistant. However, after Angel's illness and Mimi's decline back into drugs, Roger once again chose to run away from his problems and go to Sante Fe. After a time there, he realised that he was doing nothing in his life so far away from home, and that he missed New York and the friends he had made. He came back from New York only to find that Mimi was sick. However, she recieved treatment, and Roger vowed to stay by her side and not hide from his problems anymore. He was going to make sure Mimi was not another April. He now lives with Mimi and constantly watches her, silently and secretly worried that she'll be another April in his life, leaving him alone.
THE SAMPLE
In Character Sample:
It had been a week since the funeral.
He couldn't lie and say he hadn't wanted to go with her. Now more than ever, he simply wished he had been buried in the ground to get rid of the pain. He had walked through a fog the two days before the funeral, a fog of alcohol and drugs that he was sure (or was it hoping?) would kill him in the end. Cocaine and Heroin and alcohol mixed into his now tainted bloodstream faster than anyone could stop it. And then one morning, two days after the funeral, he had woken up. Hung over and aching, he had searched for another bottle of Stoli (it was amazing what one could steal when life wasn't valued anymore) and came up with a surprisingly empty room. He looked for his stash which wasn't there. He searched for his small stash of money, and came up empty. It was then that he realised what had happened. They had taken his drugs. His supposed friends (he knew they meant well, though he'd never admit it) had came into his room while he had been passed out on the couch, and stolen every molicule of heroin. Every bottle of Stoli and alcohol. Every dime he owned. It didn't take long for the ache to set in.
It felt like every muscle in his body was threatening to bust out of his body, every bone aching until the thought of cutting himself open and tearing each offending muscle and bone was starting to look like a excellent plan. Wrapping his arms around his stomach, he jerked over in sharp bursts as pain shot through his stomach. He wanted to say fuck it, to get another hit and be done with this pain, but he could hardly move, let along walk. Bouncing slightly as he sat on the edge of the bed, Roger wrapped his arms around his stomach, a sob escaping his lips with the breath of air that he didn't realise he was holding. Jagged red marks dottef his arms from the hour before, when it seemed as if every cell in his bloodstream was a little fireant, creeping and crawling around his veins. He had smacked at his arms to try to stop the itching, only to leave bruises. He dug his fingernails into his skin only to bring up blood. Then, the stomach pains had started, bringing him collapsing inside himself , a sharp grunt escaping his lips.
He grit his teeth sharply, biting back a scream before he fell onto the bed in a desperate urge to both get comfortable and stop his pain. He screamed into a pillow until his face turned red and veins shot from his neck. Somewhere in between shaking and sobbing, a thought hit Roger's brain like a freight train, sending him shooting as quickly as he could towards the dresser. April's things still lay, neat and unused (she had only died two weeks before and Roger couldn't bare to touch the things, let alone get rid of them) and he pulled a dresser out, watching as the contents spilled out. April's bras and underwear went flying, socks and knickknacks went right along, scattering over the room. However, Roger quickly snatched up a small woodened box that had APRIL woodburned into it. With shaky hands, Roger opened it, seeing a needle with it's orange cap, but no bag of powder that he had been searching for. The box was promptly hurled across the room in anger, breaking against the wall. The needle clattered and rolled across the floor. "Fuck." he groaned out, wrapping his arms around his waist as he knelt on th ground. "God fuck, fuck, fuck FUCK!" He then moved, slowly crawling to the bed to reach under it, fingers probing. "Come on. C'mon, C'mon!" Roger growled out, however, he pulled his hand out from under the bed with nothing. "Oh, christ, no. P-Please. Please just--" He reached under again, trying to find where he had thought he hid a bag of coke one night, unsure of whether he had taken it or if it was still there and--
The door opened, and Roger's red-rimmed and puffy eyes shot over, seeing the dark figure of Mark in the doorway, and immediatly, his eyes narrowed to almost slits. "You motherfucker. Give--Give me my money! Give me my fucking money, you prick! I know you guys took my money, and--and I want it fucking back!" He reached under the bed again, sniffing in loudly as he rooted frantically under the bed until he pulled out a baggy, though it was nearly empty. His fingers fumbled for the rubber band to try to open the small bag of white powder. Shaking hands tore at the bag, sending the small amount of white powder onto his jeans, making him gasp in surprise.
"No! Oh, n-no! No!"
He wanted to do anything to get the powder off of his pants, soak the pants in water and shoot up whatever little residue was left and hope for a high. "J-Just--Just go away. Just go away and leave me--" Roger felt another cramp in his stomach, making him jerk into himself as he wrapped his arms around his stomach and groaned, a violent shiver passing over his body. Roger's voice was begging, pleading with his best friend.
"Please, man. Please. Go get me something. Anything. I can't do this. This is gonna fuckin' kill me. Please."
ROGER ANDREW DAVIS
Low Class
]
Low Class
]Canon: RENT
Custom Title: pretty boy FRONT MAN
PHYSICAL
Age: 25
Gender: MALE
Appearance:
Height: 5'11
Body: thin
Other distinguishing features: tattoo of APRIL across his shoulder with a heart, recently placed three droplets of blood at the bottom of the heart.
Wardrobe: Roger wears mainly thrift store clothes, though he does have some nice shirts with...buttons? Honestly, he has nice clothes! He just chooses not to wear them often.[/ul]
Play By: Adam Pascal
PERSONALITY
General personality:
The first thing people say about Roger Davis is that he's young, but wise beyond his years. At only 25, Roger's dealt with things that many don't have to deal with in their lifetime. He's had to deal with the loss of his ex-girlfiend (in the most bloody and violent way, suicide in his bathtub), and the fact that he now has contracted a deadly disease by her hands. Roger has two distinct sides to him. One side is very outgoing, always willing to make people smile or laugh. He can easily be the life of the party if he wants to, calling back on the days of his fame when he could stop a room dead with a song. However, that all changed after April's death. Easily one of the most painful times of his life, he's not willing to talk about it, usually, and has only spoken about it to Mark. Roger's sure that Mimi knows, but he still feels uncomfortable talking about it. Around the anniversary of April's death, Roger usually can become very withdrawn. This is another side of Roger that is very hard for him to control; he can become angry, depressed or jealous very easy, leading usually to him locking himself somewhere to brood. He also has the ability to run from his problems, however this usually leads to Roger leaving, sometimes to the Loft upstairs, to Sante Fe.
Roger will freely admit that he used drugs in the past but is now clean and sober, trying to be the role model for younger kids and the poor of Alphabet City. He is always willing to be the rock for Mimi that she needs, although he can sometimes get quite jealous that she still dances at the Cat Scratch Club and often will wait for her to come home. Secretly, Roger always fears that Mimi will end up like April and leave him alone, though he hasn't spoken this fear to her.
Roger also has a very child-like sense of humour, however mixed with heavy un-childlike subjects. He freely talks about sex and women, and his ego can sometimes get the better of him (mainly when he's around his best friends).
Quotes, frequently used expressions: Dude, baby, bitchin'
Likes: (please list three)
- Mimi
- Mark
- Music
Dislikes: (please list three)
- Drugs
- Suicide
- Rehab
Strengths: (please name three)
Kind
Loyal
Funny
Weaknesses:(please name three)
Jealous
Stubborn
self-loathing
BACKGROUND
Family: Anne and Robert Davis. Possible half-siblings from his father marrying another woman.
Date of Birth: August 13th
Education: High school graduate
Occupation: former bartender for Lava Gina. Currently umemployed
Worst past experience: His girlfriend killing herself in his bathroom, the night Mimi almost died
Best past experience: The night at the Life Cafe that he first kissed Mimi, and
Image: Rocker-type, but with a heart of gold.
History:
Born to a modest household to Anne and Robert Davis, Roger lived a decent life growing up. He always had an interest in music, and when he was five, his parents bought him his first guitar. Throughout middle school and high school, Roger's interests lied more in writing songs and playing the guitar than actually learning in school, and be barely passed high school. Upon leaving high school, he started a garage band which quickly launched him into the New York spotlight. His good looks and rough, rockstar voice made him easy game for the hundreds of groupies that seemed to come to the shows. The rush of sex and drugs caught up with Roger; it started innocently enough with cocaine to keep him awake for shows, but at one of the shows, he was introduced to heroin, and easily fell for it's charms. He went from show to show, drinking and sleeping with anyone he came in contact with.
It was on one of these shows that Roger met April, a pretty girl from a broken home that shared his interests, drugs and all. They quickly hooked up, and as Roger's fame started to die down, April stayed with him. They eventually moved into an apartment with Roger's friend Mark and his girlfriend Maureen, and the two tried to clean up their act and get clean. However, one morning, Roger woke up to the sound of the bath running. There was a note lying on the bed next to him. " WE'VE GOT AIDS". Instantly, Roger shot up and ran towards the bathroom, but April was already dead. This discovery and loss left Roger in a depression that Mark was unable to break him out of. Roger hardly left the house, convinced that hiding away from his problems would make them go away. He also had to deal with the forced withdrawl that Mark put him on, saying that he needed to get clean or he'd die. The withdrawl nearly killed him, and Roger spent a day in the hospital before it was found out that Roger had no insurance. Quickly booted back out onto the street, Roger was left with Maureen and Mark to bring him back to health, however they couldn't bring back his once good spirits. At the time, Roger didn't care whether he lived or died, and it left him extremely angry and bitter. The two friends were still good friends, however they walked on thin ice at some points, simply because Roger couldn't forget the fact that April was dead because of him.
He managed to get on medication for his disease, as well as get clean fully from drugs. It was christmas that he met Mimi. At first, he wasn't willing to have any sort of relationship with anyone; why have relationships when they all end in pain and heartache? Roger wasn't willing to give his heart or any other part of him to anyone, but Mimi was persistant. However, after Angel's illness and Mimi's decline back into drugs, Roger once again chose to run away from his problems and go to Sante Fe. After a time there, he realised that he was doing nothing in his life so far away from home, and that he missed New York and the friends he had made. He came back from New York only to find that Mimi was sick. However, she recieved treatment, and Roger vowed to stay by her side and not hide from his problems anymore. He was going to make sure Mimi was not another April. He now lives with Mimi and constantly watches her, silently and secretly worried that she'll be another April in his life, leaving him alone.
THE SAMPLE
In Character Sample:
It had been a week since the funeral.
He couldn't lie and say he hadn't wanted to go with her. Now more than ever, he simply wished he had been buried in the ground to get rid of the pain. He had walked through a fog the two days before the funeral, a fog of alcohol and drugs that he was sure (or was it hoping?) would kill him in the end. Cocaine and Heroin and alcohol mixed into his now tainted bloodstream faster than anyone could stop it. And then one morning, two days after the funeral, he had woken up. Hung over and aching, he had searched for another bottle of Stoli (it was amazing what one could steal when life wasn't valued anymore) and came up with a surprisingly empty room. He looked for his stash which wasn't there. He searched for his small stash of money, and came up empty. It was then that he realised what had happened. They had taken his drugs. His supposed friends (he knew they meant well, though he'd never admit it) had came into his room while he had been passed out on the couch, and stolen every molicule of heroin. Every bottle of Stoli and alcohol. Every dime he owned. It didn't take long for the ache to set in.
It felt like every muscle in his body was threatening to bust out of his body, every bone aching until the thought of cutting himself open and tearing each offending muscle and bone was starting to look like a excellent plan. Wrapping his arms around his stomach, he jerked over in sharp bursts as pain shot through his stomach. He wanted to say fuck it, to get another hit and be done with this pain, but he could hardly move, let along walk. Bouncing slightly as he sat on the edge of the bed, Roger wrapped his arms around his stomach, a sob escaping his lips with the breath of air that he didn't realise he was holding. Jagged red marks dottef his arms from the hour before, when it seemed as if every cell in his bloodstream was a little fireant, creeping and crawling around his veins. He had smacked at his arms to try to stop the itching, only to leave bruises. He dug his fingernails into his skin only to bring up blood. Then, the stomach pains had started, bringing him collapsing inside himself , a sharp grunt escaping his lips.
He grit his teeth sharply, biting back a scream before he fell onto the bed in a desperate urge to both get comfortable and stop his pain. He screamed into a pillow until his face turned red and veins shot from his neck. Somewhere in between shaking and sobbing, a thought hit Roger's brain like a freight train, sending him shooting as quickly as he could towards the dresser. April's things still lay, neat and unused (she had only died two weeks before and Roger couldn't bare to touch the things, let alone get rid of them) and he pulled a dresser out, watching as the contents spilled out. April's bras and underwear went flying, socks and knickknacks went right along, scattering over the room. However, Roger quickly snatched up a small woodened box that had APRIL woodburned into it. With shaky hands, Roger opened it, seeing a needle with it's orange cap, but no bag of powder that he had been searching for. The box was promptly hurled across the room in anger, breaking against the wall. The needle clattered and rolled across the floor. "Fuck." he groaned out, wrapping his arms around his waist as he knelt on th ground. "God fuck, fuck, fuck FUCK!" He then moved, slowly crawling to the bed to reach under it, fingers probing. "Come on. C'mon, C'mon!" Roger growled out, however, he pulled his hand out from under the bed with nothing. "Oh, christ, no. P-Please. Please just--" He reached under again, trying to find where he had thought he hid a bag of coke one night, unsure of whether he had taken it or if it was still there and--
The door opened, and Roger's red-rimmed and puffy eyes shot over, seeing the dark figure of Mark in the doorway, and immediatly, his eyes narrowed to almost slits. "You motherfucker. Give--Give me my money! Give me my fucking money, you prick! I know you guys took my money, and--and I want it fucking back!" He reached under the bed again, sniffing in loudly as he rooted frantically under the bed until he pulled out a baggy, though it was nearly empty. His fingers fumbled for the rubber band to try to open the small bag of white powder. Shaking hands tore at the bag, sending the small amount of white powder onto his jeans, making him gasp in surprise.
"No! Oh, n-no! No!"
He wanted to do anything to get the powder off of his pants, soak the pants in water and shoot up whatever little residue was left and hope for a high. "J-Just--Just go away. Just go away and leave me--" Roger felt another cramp in his stomach, making him jerk into himself as he wrapped his arms around his stomach and groaned, a violent shiver passing over his body. Roger's voice was begging, pleading with his best friend.
"Please, man. Please. Go get me something. Anything. I can't do this. This is gonna fuckin' kill me. Please."
Well...I guess I'll say "again" that this is a very thorough and powerful application. 
