Post by chace mitchell allison. on Jun 5, 2009 23:08:36 GMT -5
CHACEmitchellALLISON
New york, new york
I want to wake up in a city, that never sleeps
And find I'm a number one top of the list, king of the hill
A NUMBER ONE
I want to wake up in a city, that never sleeps
And find I'm a number one top of the list, king of the hill
A NUMBER ONE
"I am not interested in money.
I just want to be wonderful."
I just want to be wonderful."
Name: Chace Mitchell Allison
Nicknames: Cee
Age: Twenty-four
Sexual Orientation: heterosexual
Member Group: artist/photographer
Job Position: photographer at a modeling studio; plans to own his own studio; also works at the children's psychiatric hospital as an art teacher
Schooling: Attended all four years at the New York Film Institute
Wealth Status: poor-middle class
"Hollywood is a place where they'll pay you
a thousand dollars for a kiss and fifty cents for your soul."
a thousand dollars for a kiss and fifty cents for your soul."
Dreams:(at least 2)
Fears:(at least 2)
Three Best Personality Traits:
- Extroverted
- Sensitive
- Friendly
- Self-motivated
Three Worst Personality Traits:
- Messy
- Bit of a perfectionist
- Can be too serious and profound sometimes
- A bit self-conscious
"Husbands are chiefly good as lovers
when they are betraying their wives."
when they are betraying their wives."
Parents: Helena Allison-Burke, Elementary school teacher, 49
Pierre Allison, Biology professor, 49
(parents divorced when he was eight)
Step-father: Isacc, Interior Designer, 47
Siblings: Isabella, 26, pre-med
Aaren, 18
Chelsea, 9 - (Helena and Isacc's daughter)
History:
Chace Mitchell Allison was born to Helena and Pierre Allison on Jan 9 in White Plains, New York. The couple married young at age 23. They dated for a year and a half, then got pregnant with Isabella. So they married before the baby came, happy to start a family. Everything was good until a few months after Chace's seventh birthday. Pierre had an affair and Helena found out soon after. They began fighting and had extreme trust issues until finally, they filed for divorce.
The divorce was hard on both Isabella and Chace. But they managed to cope through therapy, which Chace hated. He'd rather draw indoors. He found his love for drawing at school. The art teacher always commented on how wonderful he drew and how great of an artist he was. This praise continued all throughout his life. He would get how-to-draw books at the library and spend hours upon hours in his room with his artset. It was his way of coping with the separation.
When Chace was around ten years old, he found his second love: cameras. Chace loved everything about the camera. He loved messing around with his father's camera, taking pictures of anything and everything. At age eleven, he got his very own camera for christmas. It wasn't anything special but Chace loved that thing like it was his own flesh and blood.
Throughout the years, Chace honed his skills on art and photography. And at eighteen, he attended the New York Film Institute. He took photography classes there and drew in his spare time. Now he has moved to New York, trying to make a name for himself in the Big Apple. Right out of college, he got a job at a modeling studio. While he likes the job, the pay wasn't much, so he looked for another job. He applied for the art teacher position at the children's hospital and now teaches children how to draw and to open their horizons in art. Though what he's doing now is satisfying, Chace doesn't feel that he's reached his full potential. He wants to open up a studio, which photographs models, scenic areas, family portraits, etc.
"First, I'm trying to prove to myself that I'm a person.
Then maybe I'll convince myself that I'm an actress."
Then maybe I'll convince myself that I'm an actress."
Name:(whatever you want people to call you)
Where did you find us?:(a site, an ad, from a character?)
Rp Sample:
The song:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=ewR-W7GgWHE&feature=related
The fingers swayed gracefully across the piano keys in the back of the auditorium, almost as if they weren't touching the keys at all. But music was magically playing. A head was seen swaying to the music, eyes shaded with aviators, a small grin plastered upon the lips. The peaceful song that filled the very top of the room was called, "La Fille aux Cheveux de Lin," aka, The Girl with the Flaxen Hair.
This song had been a favorite of Jasper's ever since he heard it first played at seven years old in France. Oddly enough, this song was the reason why he started piano in the first place. He wanted to learn how to play this song so that he could hear it all the time. After three years of piano, Jasper played the Debussy song at his recital, and won. He listened to the song when his parents were constantly fighting, he listened to the song when he arrived in America, depressed and lonely. It'd gotten Jasper through some rough times, and he's never once tired of it.
By now, Jasper had perfected and memorized "La Fille aux Cheveux de Lin." He could play this song in his sleep. His fingers bounced across the piano keys, flowing like a curtain unfolding. But even though Jasper was playing, he wasn't really listening. There were too many things on his mind right now for him to fully enjoy and immerse himself in the music. Playing piano for him was an escape. And usually when angry, Jas would play notes, forming them into a song, according to how he felt. But Jasper needed to play something that didn't require him to think so much, something that didn't require a whole lot of creativity.
He was hungover. And last night had been worse, heavier, than any other night he'd gone out partying. Jasper couldn't remember anything about last night, except that the result of it ended up in him getting a huge headache and feeling sick to his stomach. But he was pretty sure he'd taken some E. And normally, Jasper hated drugs. He didn't see the point of taking any. But he'd taken some, which meant he was a hypocrite. Jasper hated hypocrites, which now made him even more of one. The whole thing made his head hurt that much more.
Sighing, Jasper replayed the song over and over and over again. It's not a very long song, almost 3 minutes. And after probably the sixth or seventh time - he wasn't counting - Jasper quit and laid his head on the piano keys, which made a rather ugly noise. He took his water bottle, opened it, and pulled out two aspirin from a ziploc baggie from his pocket, and popped them in his mouth and took a swig of water. "Ugh, remind me why I drink again, Jasper?"
www.youtube.com/watch?v=ewR-W7GgWHE&feature=related
The fingers swayed gracefully across the piano keys in the back of the auditorium, almost as if they weren't touching the keys at all. But music was magically playing. A head was seen swaying to the music, eyes shaded with aviators, a small grin plastered upon the lips. The peaceful song that filled the very top of the room was called, "La Fille aux Cheveux de Lin," aka, The Girl with the Flaxen Hair.
This song had been a favorite of Jasper's ever since he heard it first played at seven years old in France. Oddly enough, this song was the reason why he started piano in the first place. He wanted to learn how to play this song so that he could hear it all the time. After three years of piano, Jasper played the Debussy song at his recital, and won. He listened to the song when his parents were constantly fighting, he listened to the song when he arrived in America, depressed and lonely. It'd gotten Jasper through some rough times, and he's never once tired of it.
By now, Jasper had perfected and memorized "La Fille aux Cheveux de Lin." He could play this song in his sleep. His fingers bounced across the piano keys, flowing like a curtain unfolding. But even though Jasper was playing, he wasn't really listening. There were too many things on his mind right now for him to fully enjoy and immerse himself in the music. Playing piano for him was an escape. And usually when angry, Jas would play notes, forming them into a song, according to how he felt. But Jasper needed to play something that didn't require him to think so much, something that didn't require a whole lot of creativity.
He was hungover. And last night had been worse, heavier, than any other night he'd gone out partying. Jasper couldn't remember anything about last night, except that the result of it ended up in him getting a huge headache and feeling sick to his stomach. But he was pretty sure he'd taken some E. And normally, Jasper hated drugs. He didn't see the point of taking any. But he'd taken some, which meant he was a hypocrite. Jasper hated hypocrites, which now made him even more of one. The whole thing made his head hurt that much more.
Sighing, Jasper replayed the song over and over and over again. It's not a very long song, almost 3 minutes. And after probably the sixth or seventh time - he wasn't counting - Jasper quit and laid his head on the piano keys, which made a rather ugly noise. He took his water bottle, opened it, and pulled out two aspirin from a ziploc baggie from his pocket, and popped them in his mouth and took a swig of water. "Ugh, remind me why I drink again, Jasper?"
And if you've read the rules
