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Location: Carson City
Year: 2009
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 Kyle Zackery Wolfe
| princess.tiekey |
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Starting Off
Group: Unactive Member
Posts: 3
Member No.: 18
Joined: 16-July 08
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Kyle Zackery Wolfe it's all about you; NAME: Teresa
AGE: 19
CONTACT: dramaqueen8388@hotmail.com;; PM
RPG EXPERIENCE: 4 years more or less
HOW DID YOU FIND US?: Rita
OTHER CHARACTERS HERE: none just like you imagined; FULL NAME: shawn allen wyatt Kyle Zackery Wolfe
AGE: 19
BIRTHDATE: January 22nd, 1989
GENDER: Male
CANON/ORIGINAL/WANTED: Original
SEXUAL PREFERENCE: Straight
VEHICLE(S): '68 Chevy Camaro SS
PET(S): none there's no one like you; HAIR COLOR: blonde
EYE COLOR: blue-green
SKIN TONE: Caucasian
HEIGHT: 6'0
WEIGHT: 175
TATTOOS/PIERCINGS: none
STAINS/SCARS: A scar on his lower abdomen from when he shot himself as kid, got stitches.
PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION: Kyle is in good shape. He keeps his body fit by getting up for a morning jog and training in the gym. He has serious discipline when it comes to his body, since it's what he was taught by his father. Always stay in shape since your body is your strongest weapon, is what he always told him. He has dirty blonde hair, and blue-green eyes. His eyes never stay at just on one color, they change every now and then, appearing to be blue at times as well as green. He keeps his hair short, he tried the longer hair when he was younger, it got in the way. His face is cleanly shaved, Kyle's not a fan of stubble or a bread. Don't let his slim look fool you, he's not a weak, he far from it my friend. His muscles are well defined. His weight gives him more agility.
Kyle is a big fan of loose and comfortable clothes. Jeans and a tee-shirt mostly. When lounging around the house, he's in sweats or gym shorts, it depends on the weather. When it's cold out, he's in a oversized hoodie, just because he likes the sleeves to cover his hands. It's a corky little fact. Dressing up in a suit, or something nice is rare, but he does it when it comes to special occasions. He can't see well without his contacts or glasses. He got contacts because it was easier when it came to his fighting lessons, his glasses always seemed to break, and it was getting expensive to buy new ones all the time. Now, the only time he wears glasses is when he's lounging around the house, or he didn't have enough sleep the night before. you were meant for me; DESCRIBE HIM/HER IN 5 WORDS: quiet, loyal, stubborn, secretive, determined
STRENGTHS:
- fighting skills
- keeping secrets
- loyalty
- kindness
- energy
- intelligence
- computer skills
- creativity
- self control
WEAKNESSES:
- money
- trying to be independent
- not staying in one place for long/always moving
- smoking
- trusting others
- his emotions
- fear of rejection
- social skills
- stubbornness
LIKES:
- music
- his father
- cars/his car
- girls
- singing/playing guitar
- writing
- kids
- reading
- pizza
- art/photography
- Andrea
- sleep
- movies
DISLIKES:
- being told he can't do something
- smoking (it's complicated..)
- drugs/drug addicts
- lies
- pickles/onions
- guns
- depending on others
- the society
- snobby rich people
- awkward silence
- math
TALENTS:
- He playing guitar and sings.
- Can do pretty much anything on a computer.
- He can handle any form of martial arts.
- He's a mechanic. (He had built his car.)
GOALS:
- Stop smoking.
- Find a job that will actually keep him longer than a month.
- Settle down and have a family of my own.
- Stay in collage.
HABITS:
- Smokes when stressed.
- Is always working on his car.
- plays his guitar when he's upset.
- chews on his tongue when he's nervous.
- gets stalkerish when it comes to crushes; he tries to find out anything he can find about the girl before getting the guts to actually approach her.
SECRETS:
- Dad's identity; his identity.
- The things he's done with the people he hangs out, for them to "accept" him.
- On the run from the Society.
OVERALL PERSONALITY: Kyle's a good kid, who just seems to find trouble. He doesn't go looking for it, it finds him. He's curious, adventurous and likes having fun. But, he quiet as well. He doesn't talk much, unless it's required, or he's around people he knows well. He's a completely different person once you get past his trust barrier. And his barrier is pretty thick. Kyle's really protective over the people he cares for and will do anything to keep them safe. He tries to be independent, he doesn't like to depend on others, but things happen while he attempts his independence and he was to go back home.
He's not good at facing his emotions, which makes things hard. With his lousy sync, things on the love side of the road is pretty bumpy. If he likes someone, he'll usually admire from afar, his fear of rejection keeping him from actually approaching. But the longer he waits, he found hurts more, since the girl always seems to find someone better. If he does approach, he doesn't know what to say and usually makes an idiot of himself. Though, if things go alright, he gets into these shy spells. He believes in love, but the steps in getting there are complicated and how he acts tends to drive him a bit crazy.
He doesn't do well in large crowds, so people may think he's not much of a people person. But, that's only partly true. It depends who he's with. He's tend to leave a bad first impression, it just happens that way. Despite these minor flaws, he really just wants to fit in, and will do almost anything just to be accepted into certain group. These groups of people are usually older than he is, and aren't the best crowd to be around. And that tends to lead him into some trouble. He's not a troublemaker, these things just seem follow him around. at this point in my life; ORIGIN: unknown
HOMETOWN: Kingston, USA
PARENTS: Micheal Callahan (aka: Mike Leevy .. [foster father]) - biological parents are unknown.
SIBLINGS: unknown
BEST MEMORY: Hmm, there are a lot those. But I think it was when I finished making my car that takes the cake. It took me a while. I started when just after I turned sixteen. It was done by Christmas that same year. But it was worth it in the end. The car is beautiful, I think so anyway. I found a old beat up '68 Chevy Camaro SS, it didn't have anything really.. it looked so sad. So I fixed it up.. it's beautiful now.
WORST MEMORY: I was about four or five, and Dad gave me a gun for my first gun training lesson. He turned his back, and I explored the gun, and it went off. All I remember is this pain.. and the blood. Dad had pulled the bullet out of me, and stitched me up. I had to go to the hospital about a week later when the stitches started coming undone. I'm weary when it comes to guns now..
OVERALL HISTORY: I didn’t remember much from the Society. I was only about six months old when Michael, my foster father, took me from that place when a bunch of the Society members escaped. I never knew my biological parents, or anything about my biological family. Michael told me that was typical with kids born into the Society. Michael was closest to my father as you could get, it’s all I need. The way I see it, if my real parents wanted me, they wouldn’t have left me to become a killing machine, or they would have at least tried to get me if they escaped with the others. That doesn’t matter though.
Dad and I lived with a friend of his, Julian Stone Warren. We moved a lot. It was just the three of us, until I was about two and Julian’s daughter, Andrea, was born when we were in Italy. She was like a little sister from the get go. I helped if I can, or rather, tried to help. I was little; I couldn’t do much with babies. This was the closest thing to a family as you can get. But then, I didn’t know what I know now. For all I knew then, this was my family. They still are, in a way.
Dad started training me in martial arts just before my third birthday. I didn’t mind I liked spending time with my dad. He told me it was good defense if I ever needed it in the future. When I was four or five, he started me in weapon training as well. He handed me my first gun, turned around, I looked it over and it went off. I remember the pain, and blood, that’s pretty much it. It didn’t leave a nice impression on me when it came to guns. Dad had to be patient with me when it came to gun training me, but I caught on. I’m weary when it comes to them now though. When Andrea was old enough to learn to fight, Dad taught her. She became my fight partner. We got closer when doing that.
It wasn’t until I was about ten when I started asking questions. About my real parents and why I needed to learn how to fight with guns and knives and why we moved all the time. So Dad sat me down and told me every thing. About how I was born into this secret society of assassins, and they would ended up raising me young, to be becoming a killing machine. But he had taken me from that. When I was baby, a lot of people escaped this secret society. People were grabbing babies, as many as they could before someone came. He happened to grab me and he ran after that. He had changed my name when he settled somewhere. My name had been Shawn Allen Wyatt before. He said he needed to, so I can be protected. So they couldn’t track anything. The reason we moved was so that they were looking for them now. Dad knew nothing of my parents though, he didn’t answer that question. It was a lot to grasp, especially for a ten year old. But this all was practically ways to protect me and Julian, Andrea and Dad as well. I like Kyle Zackery Wolfe over Shawn Allen Wyatt anyway.
I had always loved music. I sung in secret, or to Andrea. I didn’t know how Dad would react, so I kept it from him. But I suppose he knew; Dads know everything. He got me my first guitar when I was eleven. He got me self-learning books too, and I thought myself how to play. It was fun, and just something to do when I’m not training in something, since that was the same year I started getting myself in trouble. I didn’t mean to. When I wasn’t in training, I hung out with some older boys. I was the youngest among fifteen-sixteen year olds. I thought they were cool, so I did things with them so they’d think I was cool too, and not some annoying kid. Now trouble just seems to follow me around. So, maybe that guitar was Dad’s way to keep me away from these kids for at least a little while.
Once I turned fifteen, I hit this independent phase. I wanted the do things on my own, not rely on Julian or Dad anymore. We had been living her in Carson about three years. It seemed like we were staying here for a while. Dad had left to run on his own. He showed up every now and then to continue training us and check how things were doing. I wanted to do things on my own, so I did. I left in an attempt to live like an adult. I had twelve years of martial arts training under my belt, and at least eleven of weapon training. I could take care of myself. So I tried to get a job, and juggle school at the same time. No one would hire me. If they did, something always happened and I was fired under a month. I sung on street corners for money. It helped a bit, but it wasn’t enough. After a while, I sucked up my pride and went back home to Julian and Andrea for a bit. But I left again, after I got my licenses. I figured I’d find a car; it’ll be easier then.
After I turned sixteen, I found this old beat up car in a junkyard; a ’68 Chevy Camaro SS. It was just a beat up car frame when I found it. There was nothing to it; anyone would have just walked past it. It was just junk, right? Not to me. I’ve always liked cars, as much as I liked music. I was taking an auto class in school. I had the books; I just bought more if I needed it. So for nearly a year, I worked on this car, made it my own. The day it ran; it a couple days before Christmas, and it was amazing. To think I made something that actually ran. I felt rather accomplished. That car is my baby; I take care of it like it was anyway.
It was easier to go around then. I still wanted to do things on my own. I wanted my own life. But things just never worked out, I always seemed to run out of money somehow, or I’d find trouble somewhere. When things got really bad, I always ended up back home with Julian and Andrea. I stay for a while, until things got better. I left again. I think it’s actually getting to the point when they’re expecting me to come back, I’ve came and gone so much.
I tend to hang out with the wrong crowd who were always older than I was. That’s how I started smoking. I was seventeen, and one of the guys gave me a cigarette. I hated it, but I seemed to stick. I only smoke when something was stressing me out though. I don’t do drugs; I avoid it. I drink every now and then as well, nothing too bad though. A beer every now and then won’t kill ya. I did whatever I need to be "accepted" from this group of people. Some of things, I regret doing. The things I do to get some money, or at least a pack of cigarettes.
I graduated high school last year. I tried collage. I ended up not showing up for classes, or couldn’t pay for this or that. Money is such a problem. So now I’m back with Julian and Andrea again. Hopefully not for long, I hate being a burden. I’m nineteen now, I can take care of myself. I should be able to anyway.
RP SAMPLE:
The doctor had only brought them to the door. Kimberlee stared at it for a moment, then looked up at Eric when he said he was getting a drink. She let out a small whimper, but let him go. She watched him head back down the hall, leaving her alone there.. outside her brother's door.
Kim took a breath, turning back after Eric was out of sight and stared he door for a moment, wrapping her arms around herself. Some more tears escaped her eyes, rolled down her cheek. At this point, she just wished this was all a bad dream.. that she'll walk in there, see him.. then wake up in the guest bedroom at his house, leave the room and find him perfectly fine. But no.. nothing is ever that easy when it comes to her brother being in the hospital. It was always serious. But this was the worse of them all.
Kim moved a shaky hand to the cold door knob.. it was always cold in a hospital. Why was that? She turned it, and pushed it open slowly. She peeked in, seeing her big brother laying there.. she let out a small sob. She didn't think she could do this.. but she moved inside anyway, slowly. She was shaking more now, holding in heavy sobs. Why did this stuff always have to happen to him? Why her brother? Kim took a breath, taking small steps towards the door. As big as her brother was, he always looked so small on hospital beds.
It took a while, it was like everything was in slow motion now. She couldn't move any faster if she had tried. She finally made it to the bed, looking down at her big brother. The tears just didn't stop coming now. They fogged her vision. Kim touched his hand gently. "CJ.." she said, her voice was shaky. "Damnit. I shouldn't have let you go alone.." She took a breath, closing her hand over his. "You have to make it through this, big brother. Please... I-I.." It was getting harder to talk, as the heavy sobs worked on it's break through. "CJ.. I need you. Sammy.. needs you. You need to watch that adorable little boy of yours grow up..." She couldn't continue, it was just turning into blubbering now. She squeezed her hand over his, her body shaking as she cried.
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