Post by Evan McKinnon on Jun 8, 2009 8:36:32 GMT -6
EVANDER MCKINNON
Name: Evander McKinnon
Age: Eighteen
Gender: Male
Height: Almost six one
Weight: I beg your pardon!
Hair/Eyes: Black hair, brown eyes
Clothing Style: Personally prefered jeans and a shirt, he hates ties and doesn't tend to like looking smart. You'll see him in rugby jumpers a lot, he's a rugby fan
Riding Style: English
Riding Experience: Twelve years or something
Likes: Mechanics ,,
riding ,,
putting his feet up ,,
a bit of a challenge ,,
for some reason, blackbirds ,,
plastic ,,
a bit of laughter, he can’t do with people being too quiet and hard working, everyone needs a little fun ,,
being agreed with ,,
being disagreed with ,,
a good ol’ argument ,,
Tennis ,,
Patience ,,
rugby
Dislikes: people who just don’t laugh ,,
too hard workers ,,
the song ‘HERO’ ,,
baseball ,,
people who have no patience ,,
maths ,,
betting ,,
airplanes ,,
sitting at a desk [much prefers sitting on a hay bail] ,,
typing [what’s wrong with a pen and paper]
Fears: basements,,
chemistry,,
giant pandas,
Habits: he talks alot,,
he has no idea when to stop,,
Goals: he doesn't really have any
Overall Personality:
Evan’s a nice bloke. He likes a good laugh, and can’t help going for one whenever he can. He’s got a big sense of humor, and likes to make other people laugh with him. He hates seeing people depressed and is very rarely depressed him, if he is; he gets over it very quickly. Anything that involves depression is easily swept aside, he just keeps himself to himself and really keeps himself away from depression. Have you ever noticed, that depression hardly ever brings something cheerful after it? He’s a pretty handy guy to have around. He’s a good hand with electronics and generally mechanical things. He likes a good bit of tinkering and you can sometimes find him, on a break, taking the odd thing apart before he puts it back together. A lot of fun is taken in taking things apart, but not actually breaking them in the process.
He’s good at following orders. He just does them. He might question them sometimes. If there’s something like, go jump off a bridge with a lead weight tied to his feet, then maybe he’d just say no, he has some common sense, but usually he just does it. But if it’s just to do something, yes he will do it, to the best of his ability. He can give orders, and will expect them to be followed. He hates most people in authority positions. So the orders bit is a bit irrelevant since he hates the people they’re coming from.
He keeps his head mostly. He has one problem, he can get drunk and such, but he’s getting better. It was a bad influence at college. Not he’s good at keeping his head. He likes to be in control. He doesn’t mind of what, as long as he is included in the bargain. He doesn’t like to be out of control, well obviously. He’s good in a crisis, and can mostly get out of them if such problems arise. But otherwise he’s just a good ol’ reliable Evan. So really, he’s a calm guy. He can get angry, and he’s got a nasty right hook on him. Just watch out when he’s been at the pub for a bit. He’s also deadly sarcastic. It’s hard to get a word out of him that he generally doesn’t mean to be scathing or sarcastic.
He watches as well as talks. He’s used to not being wanted so he watches body language and eyes. They tell you much more than anything else is going to. Mouths lie, usually eyes can’t, unless they’re one hell of an actor. He prefers to watch and wait before butting into a conversation, that doesn’t mean he won’t butt in, it usually just means he’ll wait ten minutes before butting in. Just to make sure he's going to put into an interesting conversation that was worth butting into in the first place. Or something like that. Or maybe he just likes eavesdropping. That's always fun. A confidence trickster. Gain the trust, swipe the wallet. He doesn’t do it anymore, doesn’t have to, rich enough as it is. But it was fun. You can still be a confidence trickster even if you don’t want to nick the targets wallet.
Mother: Miranda McKinnon
Father: Greyson McKinnon
Siblings: Charlie and May McKinnon
Spouse: What? None!
Job: Urm...none at the moment
History: EARLY LIFE
Evander Caymon McKinnon. Older Brother to Charlie McKinnon and May McKinnon. Greyson McKinnon was a Navy Lieutenant. He was promoted to Captain when Evan was four. Charlie was two, and they lived on base, in Benson. Evan loved the base; he lived there and went to school just ten minutes away. He’d take his bike and cycle the half mile to the gate, show his ID card and cycle to school .Charlie joined him after two years and most of the time, the two just spent their life like that. They went to school, they came back.
LIFE BEFORE
The McKinnons lived near the back gate of the base. Behind their house was a large field, where the local farmer kept cows. When Evan was nine, the cows were removed from the field. In their place were seven sheep and two horses. Evan used to sit on the fence, talking to the boy that lived at the farm, Marki. He owned one of the horses, whilst his sister owned the other. Evan used to ride his bike out with Marki and his horse when they went for rides out in the country. A good friend. When Marki’s sister grew out of her horse, Seasme, they didn’t want to sell him. Marki’s horse, Ty, hardly went anywhere without Seasme. He would pine when she went out on rides and he didn’t. He was, in fact, a bit of a wimp. So that was how Evan learned to ride. He worked on Marki’s fathers’ farm to earn his keep. So Marki and Evan grew up together.
FIFTEEN
A good year, until the Fall. Seventeenth of September. Marki’s birthday. Seasme and Ty were really getting on in years. So, Marki got for his birthday a beautiful chestnut mare. She was an ex-race horse at the age of twelve. Marki’s father had actually bought her brother; a cross bred Thoroughbred/Welsh Cob. A nice mix to say the least, but the chestnut had been thrown in at a quarter of the price. Might as well, seeing as she would always be ridden by Evan. It should be mentioned that Evan was still being called Evander now. Anyway, The Welsh Cob cross, Bobby, was actually more highly strung than the chestnut, Melanie. Bobby had tantrums and sometimes just wouldn’t let you near him.
Evan vaulted over the fence that separted both his and Marki's gardens, jogging up the frost covered grass. Marki was standing in the stall with a tall handsome mare.
"Hey, stable boy, yer late!" Marki grinned at his friend.
"Keep wishing, boy. Who's this?" Evan reached out a hand to stroke the mare.
"Melanie, and Bobby's in the next stable. Dad got them for my birthday"
"Seriously?"
"Yeah! I know. Here, take Mel, I'll get Bobby." Marki handed the mare's reins to Evan, who took them, suprised. Sure, why not.
On the fourth of January, Evan and Marki were out on a ride. Bobby hadn’t been behaving herself that morning, and was being friskier than a two year old pure bred Arabian stallion. She wasn’t walking in a straight line, snapping at Melanie and generally being an arse. Marki was a good rider, and had the young cross under control, until something came out from the underbrush
"Bobby! Calm down." Marki scouled for what must've been the thirtieth time. His temper wasn't doing anything good for himself, Bobby or Melanie. The chestnut was becoming more skittish. Evan muttered nonsense at her to calm the mare down. Bobby half-reared, turning on his back legs when a black object shot from the undergrowth. Bobby reared fully, Marki losing his stirrup. Melanie neighed in fear, backing up quickly, throwing her head up. Marki was thrown clear of the horse, where he landed, tumbling down a steep inclimb.
"Mark!" Evander's panicked cries came back unanswered.
It took Evan a full five minutes to get Melanie calm enough to dismount. And his feet hadn't even touched the ground before the mare was off after Bobby. The rein caught Evan a stinging cut across his cheek, but that didn't matter. He scrambled down towards Marki, who had fallen into a ditch.
"Hey, Marki...Mark." Medical training, what little he had, taught Evan to keep Marki warm. So he shrugged off his coat and wrapped it around his unconscious friend. Six hours they were out there. Their phones having been in the saddle bags. They just had to hope Mel and Bob scampered their way back to the stable and raised a search. They were both lucky. Marki only had a slight bang on the head, Evan just a scratched cheek. Enough said that Marki never rode again and their family left the area.
Bobby and Melanie had apparently gone straight home. They were found in their stable, munching down the hay that was left. Safe to say, Marki hasn’t ridden since.
SEVENTEEN
At Seventeen, Evan had done a little bit of medical training at the base. But, more than that, Evan actually joined a gang. But, that didn't last too long.
he started working down at the stud about half a mile away. He’d catch the bus at six thirty. Do a good five hours work: mucking out, hot walking, grooming. Then catch the bus back for his paramedic training. Seven hours on the trot, get back at eight and sleep until six thirty.
His parents began to think that this wasn't a life for their son. They wanted to send him off to boarding school, military boarding school. So, naturally, Evan scarpered. He gathered as much money as he could, hid out at a friends, taught himself to drive and legged it on the nearest plane. For some reason landing...here? He bought himself a good beat up old banger of a car and has been cruising around ever since to try and find somewhere to work along with his faithful mutt, Match
Roleplay Sample:
Name: Evander McKinnon
Age: Eighteen
Gender: Male
Height: Almost six one
Weight: I beg your pardon!
Hair/Eyes: Black hair, brown eyes
Clothing Style: Personally prefered jeans and a shirt, he hates ties and doesn't tend to like looking smart. You'll see him in rugby jumpers a lot, he's a rugby fan
Riding Style: English
Riding Experience: Twelve years or something
Likes: Mechanics ,,
riding ,,
putting his feet up ,,
a bit of a challenge ,,
for some reason, blackbirds ,,
plastic ,,
a bit of laughter, he can’t do with people being too quiet and hard working, everyone needs a little fun ,,
being agreed with ,,
being disagreed with ,,
a good ol’ argument ,,
Tennis ,,
Patience ,,
rugby
Dislikes: people who just don’t laugh ,,
too hard workers ,,
the song ‘HERO’ ,,
baseball ,,
people who have no patience ,,
maths ,,
betting ,,
airplanes ,,
sitting at a desk [much prefers sitting on a hay bail] ,,
typing [what’s wrong with a pen and paper]
Fears: basements,,
chemistry,,
giant pandas,
Habits: he talks alot,,
he has no idea when to stop,,
Goals: he doesn't really have any
Overall Personality:
Evan’s a nice bloke. He likes a good laugh, and can’t help going for one whenever he can. He’s got a big sense of humor, and likes to make other people laugh with him. He hates seeing people depressed and is very rarely depressed him, if he is; he gets over it very quickly. Anything that involves depression is easily swept aside, he just keeps himself to himself and really keeps himself away from depression. Have you ever noticed, that depression hardly ever brings something cheerful after it? He’s a pretty handy guy to have around. He’s a good hand with electronics and generally mechanical things. He likes a good bit of tinkering and you can sometimes find him, on a break, taking the odd thing apart before he puts it back together. A lot of fun is taken in taking things apart, but not actually breaking them in the process.
He’s good at following orders. He just does them. He might question them sometimes. If there’s something like, go jump off a bridge with a lead weight tied to his feet, then maybe he’d just say no, he has some common sense, but usually he just does it. But if it’s just to do something, yes he will do it, to the best of his ability. He can give orders, and will expect them to be followed. He hates most people in authority positions. So the orders bit is a bit irrelevant since he hates the people they’re coming from.
He keeps his head mostly. He has one problem, he can get drunk and such, but he’s getting better. It was a bad influence at college. Not he’s good at keeping his head. He likes to be in control. He doesn’t mind of what, as long as he is included in the bargain. He doesn’t like to be out of control, well obviously. He’s good in a crisis, and can mostly get out of them if such problems arise. But otherwise he’s just a good ol’ reliable Evan. So really, he’s a calm guy. He can get angry, and he’s got a nasty right hook on him. Just watch out when he’s been at the pub for a bit. He’s also deadly sarcastic. It’s hard to get a word out of him that he generally doesn’t mean to be scathing or sarcastic.
He watches as well as talks. He’s used to not being wanted so he watches body language and eyes. They tell you much more than anything else is going to. Mouths lie, usually eyes can’t, unless they’re one hell of an actor. He prefers to watch and wait before butting into a conversation, that doesn’t mean he won’t butt in, it usually just means he’ll wait ten minutes before butting in. Just to make sure he's going to put into an interesting conversation that was worth butting into in the first place. Or something like that. Or maybe he just likes eavesdropping. That's always fun. A confidence trickster. Gain the trust, swipe the wallet. He doesn’t do it anymore, doesn’t have to, rich enough as it is. But it was fun. You can still be a confidence trickster even if you don’t want to nick the targets wallet.
Mother: Miranda McKinnon
Father: Greyson McKinnon
Siblings: Charlie and May McKinnon
Spouse: What? None!
Job: Urm...none at the moment
History: EARLY LIFE
Evander Caymon McKinnon. Older Brother to Charlie McKinnon and May McKinnon. Greyson McKinnon was a Navy Lieutenant. He was promoted to Captain when Evan was four. Charlie was two, and they lived on base, in Benson. Evan loved the base; he lived there and went to school just ten minutes away. He’d take his bike and cycle the half mile to the gate, show his ID card and cycle to school .Charlie joined him after two years and most of the time, the two just spent their life like that. They went to school, they came back.
LIFE BEFORE
The McKinnons lived near the back gate of the base. Behind their house was a large field, where the local farmer kept cows. When Evan was nine, the cows were removed from the field. In their place were seven sheep and two horses. Evan used to sit on the fence, talking to the boy that lived at the farm, Marki. He owned one of the horses, whilst his sister owned the other. Evan used to ride his bike out with Marki and his horse when they went for rides out in the country. A good friend. When Marki’s sister grew out of her horse, Seasme, they didn’t want to sell him. Marki’s horse, Ty, hardly went anywhere without Seasme. He would pine when she went out on rides and he didn’t. He was, in fact, a bit of a wimp. So that was how Evan learned to ride. He worked on Marki’s fathers’ farm to earn his keep. So Marki and Evan grew up together.
FIFTEEN
A good year, until the Fall. Seventeenth of September. Marki’s birthday. Seasme and Ty were really getting on in years. So, Marki got for his birthday a beautiful chestnut mare. She was an ex-race horse at the age of twelve. Marki’s father had actually bought her brother; a cross bred Thoroughbred/Welsh Cob. A nice mix to say the least, but the chestnut had been thrown in at a quarter of the price. Might as well, seeing as she would always be ridden by Evan. It should be mentioned that Evan was still being called Evander now. Anyway, The Welsh Cob cross, Bobby, was actually more highly strung than the chestnut, Melanie. Bobby had tantrums and sometimes just wouldn’t let you near him.
Evan vaulted over the fence that separted both his and Marki's gardens, jogging up the frost covered grass. Marki was standing in the stall with a tall handsome mare.
"Hey, stable boy, yer late!" Marki grinned at his friend.
"Keep wishing, boy. Who's this?" Evan reached out a hand to stroke the mare.
"Melanie, and Bobby's in the next stable. Dad got them for my birthday"
"Seriously?"
"Yeah! I know. Here, take Mel, I'll get Bobby." Marki handed the mare's reins to Evan, who took them, suprised. Sure, why not.
On the fourth of January, Evan and Marki were out on a ride. Bobby hadn’t been behaving herself that morning, and was being friskier than a two year old pure bred Arabian stallion. She wasn’t walking in a straight line, snapping at Melanie and generally being an arse. Marki was a good rider, and had the young cross under control, until something came out from the underbrush
"Bobby! Calm down." Marki scouled for what must've been the thirtieth time. His temper wasn't doing anything good for himself, Bobby or Melanie. The chestnut was becoming more skittish. Evan muttered nonsense at her to calm the mare down. Bobby half-reared, turning on his back legs when a black object shot from the undergrowth. Bobby reared fully, Marki losing his stirrup. Melanie neighed in fear, backing up quickly, throwing her head up. Marki was thrown clear of the horse, where he landed, tumbling down a steep inclimb.
"Mark!" Evander's panicked cries came back unanswered.
It took Evan a full five minutes to get Melanie calm enough to dismount. And his feet hadn't even touched the ground before the mare was off after Bobby. The rein caught Evan a stinging cut across his cheek, but that didn't matter. He scrambled down towards Marki, who had fallen into a ditch.
"Hey, Marki...Mark." Medical training, what little he had, taught Evan to keep Marki warm. So he shrugged off his coat and wrapped it around his unconscious friend. Six hours they were out there. Their phones having been in the saddle bags. They just had to hope Mel and Bob scampered their way back to the stable and raised a search. They were both lucky. Marki only had a slight bang on the head, Evan just a scratched cheek. Enough said that Marki never rode again and their family left the area.
Bobby and Melanie had apparently gone straight home. They were found in their stable, munching down the hay that was left. Safe to say, Marki hasn’t ridden since.
SEVENTEEN
At Seventeen, Evan had done a little bit of medical training at the base. But, more than that, Evan actually joined a gang. But, that didn't last too long.
he started working down at the stud about half a mile away. He’d catch the bus at six thirty. Do a good five hours work: mucking out, hot walking, grooming. Then catch the bus back for his paramedic training. Seven hours on the trot, get back at eight and sleep until six thirty.
His parents began to think that this wasn't a life for their son. They wanted to send him off to boarding school, military boarding school. So, naturally, Evan scarpered. He gathered as much money as he could, hid out at a friends, taught himself to drive and legged it on the nearest plane. For some reason landing...here? He bought himself a good beat up old banger of a car and has been cruising around ever since to try and find somewhere to work along with his faithful mutt, Match
Roleplay Sample:
Meth rested his chin on his hand, staring blankly ahead of him out of the window. It tended to annoy most people when he did that, by people it meant teachers. But, he cared very little about teachers. Or anyone in authority for that matter. They were just so pompous in Meth's opinion, and he spent way too much time around very pompous people. It was the risk of coming from a very high class family, you had to spend your precious time with delightfully fake people. It was what prompted Meth to be as honest as he was, he hated keeping things inside his head. It wasn't that he couldn't, he was quite intelligent, he spent a lot of time on his studies, but he said exactly what he thought.
He spent a lot of time on studies since his power needed very little maintenance. He didn't have to practise it unless he wanted to cause a little bit of havoc. Someone trying to levitate a desk using all their availible strength and he pops in with just that little helping hand and the desk smacks into the ceiling. He wasn't cruel, he just liked the occasional laugh. He didn't do a great deal that others did, honing their powers to perfection. It was why he wasn't going on any of these special anythings, there wasn't much point. He could fight, having been taught to shoot, fence and archery at home, but that was just tradition and custom. He didn't like shooting, always missed the bullseye in archery, but he didn't mind fencing. But, fencing with a foil and fighting with a real sword were two very different things.
The bell rang and Meth glanced over at the clock. He'd been held back for detention after just nodding off in class. He was bored! He'd already been through that page in the book the night before. He grabbed his bag and headed for the door. Outside the corridor was empty, except for Meth and his constant companion, Ianto. The tall, smartly, yet casually, dressed young man walked silently beside him, hands in the pockets of his dress trousers. "Not a good time, Methsumis?" Ianto asked in his smooth Welsh accent, not unlike to Meth's own Welsh accent. "Nope. It's not like I do anything in these detentions. I've already done the work." He mumbled, pushing the door open with a shoulder, heading towards the tree he tended to sit in.
It was a large, low branched tree just outside the zoo. It looked over most of the lower pens with the Llamas and the goats inside. He dumped his bag at the base of the trunk, stepped up onto a handy root and hauled himself onto one of the branches. He liked sitting about half way up, in between the branches. He could lean against the trunk with his feet up. Ianto, as always, was sitting just above him, ankles crossed on another branch. "I hate wednesdays." Meth muttered, crossing his arms across his chest and leaning his head back against the rough bark of the large tree.
He spent a lot of time on studies since his power needed very little maintenance. He didn't have to practise it unless he wanted to cause a little bit of havoc. Someone trying to levitate a desk using all their availible strength and he pops in with just that little helping hand and the desk smacks into the ceiling. He wasn't cruel, he just liked the occasional laugh. He didn't do a great deal that others did, honing their powers to perfection. It was why he wasn't going on any of these special anythings, there wasn't much point. He could fight, having been taught to shoot, fence and archery at home, but that was just tradition and custom. He didn't like shooting, always missed the bullseye in archery, but he didn't mind fencing. But, fencing with a foil and fighting with a real sword were two very different things.
The bell rang and Meth glanced over at the clock. He'd been held back for detention after just nodding off in class. He was bored! He'd already been through that page in the book the night before. He grabbed his bag and headed for the door. Outside the corridor was empty, except for Meth and his constant companion, Ianto. The tall, smartly, yet casually, dressed young man walked silently beside him, hands in the pockets of his dress trousers. "Not a good time, Methsumis?" Ianto asked in his smooth Welsh accent, not unlike to Meth's own Welsh accent. "Nope. It's not like I do anything in these detentions. I've already done the work." He mumbled, pushing the door open with a shoulder, heading towards the tree he tended to sit in.
It was a large, low branched tree just outside the zoo. It looked over most of the lower pens with the Llamas and the goats inside. He dumped his bag at the base of the trunk, stepped up onto a handy root and hauled himself onto one of the branches. He liked sitting about half way up, in between the branches. He could lean against the trunk with his feet up. Ianto, as always, was sitting just above him, ankles crossed on another branch. "I hate wednesdays." Meth muttered, crossing his arms across his chest and leaning his head back against the rough bark of the large tree.
