Post by tracekingston on Apr 11, 2010 20:11:59 GMT -5
[/color] trace questioned as he stared blankly at a rather short girl who was pretty much screaming at him infront of his merch table. well, not his merch table but you know the merch table for the band he was in, so okay yeah, his merch table. Blinking quickly he clamped his jaw shut to keep from yelling back at the girl as she went on and on about how at the last stop on the tour trace had slept with her or made out with her or something, and promised that they would date and he would see her at the next stop which was currently the stop they were at. Trace however, failed to remember any of this and looked helplessly at his band mates for advice but they were all to busy laughing and pointing at him. Shaking his head he leaned down so he could see eye to eye with the girl, something he had to do most of the time with his six foot stature. listen, sweetheart, your adorable and everything, but i honestly dont remember saying any of that or making any promises or whatever you said i did. now, either get go make friends and get a picture with one of the other band members, or buy a shirt but PLEASE STOP YELLING AT ME![/color] he finished, his voice raising somewhat loudly towards the end as he backed up from the girl shaking his head. Trace like yelling, okay, he absolutely adored it, just not when he was yelling at some random person, especially when the random person was a girl, even if they did deserve it. Beleive it or not, the kid did have some manners, some times. Watching the girl storm away to her group of friends trace sighed and rubbed his temples, closing his eyes for a moments as he listened to the mockery from the merch girls. Shaking his head he laughed and reached over, fluffing the girls hair because he knew how much she loathed it before paying attention to the next kid in line.
trace matthew kingston.
nineteen ,, brooklyn, ny ,, photographer for we dance with monsters ,, straight ,, hyperactive
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"HIHIHIHIHIHIHI! Im trace, nice to meet choo. If you dont know me by now well, then we have a problem because i insist on knowing absolutely everyone. Im kind of a social butterfly you could say, atleast when i forget to take my ADHD medication i am. Anywhoo, im the photographer for we dance with monsters and im only nineteen years old. im a relatively nice person, and i absolutely positively love to cuddle or just hug people. i wouldnt say im a flirt, though i have been called it before, and if i do flirt i do it without meaning to. im love the feeling of needles jabbing my skin with ink. i have a few tattoos, one on my chest reading "we all have been degraded" in cursive and below it "we'll all be the greatest". i also have one on the inside of my lip that says "live", and two more on either sides of my collarbones stating "one love". lets see, im extremely hyper active and its frowned upon when i drink coffee or energy drinks because it tends to make it worse. my friends mean absolutely everything to me, and im far to over protective of them but i dont care, because they'll thank me in the end for it. just because i act like a giant teddy bear most of the time, doesnt mean i cant hold my own in a fight. im stupid stubborn and will twist your words around until you agree with me or just get tired of arguing. relationship wise, im not the most savvy. i mean yeah ive dated girls, but its never really turned out that great in the end. i'll start to fall and then i'll end up getting screwed over. i need like four hands to count the numbers of times ive been cheated on. so my apologies ladies, if im not quick to hop into labels like "boyfriend". friends with benefits however, is a great commitment for me. well not really, because im not a huge man whore. i try to keep one night stands limited, if they have to happen at all. i am though, i admit, a serial kisser. sober and drunk. i just like to leave my signature on girls, and by signature i mean a kiss and by girls i mean their lips. ive yet to fall in love fully, and im somewhat scared to death of the thought of it, just because i feel like any relationship i enter is doomed from the get go. onto happier subjects though, i grew up with a fantastic life. my mother always supported me and i love her to death. my father and mother were never married, and he wasn't really a big part of my life, but im perfectly fine with that. funny really, my mom tends to support everything i do but the first time i came home with a tattoo, she cried and hit me upside the back of my head with a rolled up magazine. i think it was jc pennys, and you know that shits thick. basically in a nut shell, im trace matthew kingston, nineteen years old, hyperactive and loveable, stubborn as a donkey and a serial kisser thats over protective of my friends to the point where im considered a body guard."
hey, so i'm caitlin. i've been roleplaying for seven years now. as well as this character, i also play n/a. you can reach me by pm if you need me for anything. i found made up stories by caution 2.0 and i'm pretty glad i did. here's an example of mah skillz. (:what on earth are you talking about!?
Trace loved the fans, he really did. And he tried to be as nice and talkative as he could and get to know each kid as fast as possibly that way it felt like he made a new friend and they wouldn't think he was a douche or anything and he actually was the nice person he claimed to be most of the time. Settling back into the motion of waving or shaking hands and bending over to take pictures with the waiting kids lightened his mood almost instantly. That and, he had a trusty red plastic cup in his hand filled with alcohol. Numnumnum. Pasing to take a drink he bent down to lean heads against a blonde girl that wanted a picture, smiling as he did so and laughing at one of her pick up lines she had been planning to use on him for weeks, according to her friends. sorry girls. unless your over eighteen i will not tell you my sign or the fact that i like long walks on the beach and ponies[/color] he joked, flashing a crooked grin for the picture. Straightening up and taking another drink from the cup, trace enjoyed the small buzz making itself known in his head as he bounced up and down, exchanging jokes with the bassist of the band as he noticed a rather large boy, man, man-boy? walking towards the booth. and it looked like he had a person. Getting ready to tell him it was nice he wanted to meet them so badly, but he really had to wait his turn because most of the kids had been standing there for a good fourty five minutes, he was greeted with a glare and aquestion about his identity, and why he was lying to his best friend. im sorry, wait what? whos your friend? as far as i know im not lying to anyone at the moment[/color] he spoke, head tilting to the side as he locked gazes with thegirl from earlier. fantastic.
look man, im not lying! shes delusional, i didnt do anything with anyone last show night i swear on my hamsters grav-[/color] trace was cut off as he felt a sharp pain in his mouth and his vision blurred for a second. what the eff?! Reahing up to touch his lip he pulled his finger away and saw blood, and after hearing a collective gasp from the people surrounding the merch table he dropped his cup to the ground, yes, his precious red cup, and flew across the table. ohh, how he knew those long legs of his would come in handy one day. With the pain throbbing in his lower lip and his eyes seeing red, he caught the collar of the guy who had successfully managed to get one over on him and sent his fist flying towards the mans cheek bone, getting in a solid hit before being pulled off. Obscienities were flying from trace's mouth as he watched the guy remain seated on the ground, dazzed as he held the side of his face as someone stepped in betweem them, probably security, and pulled trace back to behind the wall where they had stacked the merch. Still somewhat annoyed at the probability that he was going to have a giant lip for the next day or so, and that someone had actually managed to hit him without trace moving out of the way in time. it was a cheap shot though. Trace did however, calm down as he was handed another cup full of liquid, assuming it was water he took a giant gulp and winced. ohkay, that really wasn't water.[/color] trace murmured, though he quickly took another sip from the cup, his buzz returning and blocking out the dull throb from his lip.
Turning as he heard his name he frowned, walking over to the manager who requestedthat trace visit the first aid station, for fear that his lip was spilt and would need stitches. After trying, and failing, to convince him that wasn't nessicary he was escorted to the tent by security and entered through the back, hoping to find nurses waiting there but instead found nothing, what the heck, where was anyone?! Having gotten his cup refilled to the brim, trace was having a jolly ole' time exploring the empty back area of the tent,, resisting the urge to jump in the air and fist pump as he found a box full of hello kitty band aids. Dumping the box out he quickly unpealed a couple of stickers and stuck them randomly over his face,arms, chest and neck. ohh, i feel like pretty princess[/color] he joked to the security guy who had lead him to the tent, getting a laugh from the man and instructions to go sit in the waiting area, trace happily obliged, skipping towards the front of the tent with his cup still in hand. The boy had managed to change after coming off stage, because he haded taking pictures all sweaty and plus he felt just plain gross hugging little clean girls when he was sweating like a pig. Having changed into black skinny jeans and a white v-neck, he was comfortable as he rubbed his free hand on the back of his neck, gaze catching sight of a familar face as he entered the waiting area. STELLS?![/color] trace shouted, hopping over to the girl he planted himself on the ground infront of her, sitting criss cross apple sauce as he stared at her. what the heck are you doing here!?[/color] he asked, before eyes found her forearm. oh shit, that looks painfull. what did you do, get into a fight with a killer bass peddle?[/color] he asked, surveying the wound for another moment or so before raising the cup to his lips, frowning as the vodka hit the cup on his lip. ohh, that hurt a little bit, which ment he needed to keep drinking. Pausing he glanced up from the cup. oh how rude of me, sharing is caring![/color] he stated, holding the cup out to stella with a wide grin plastered onto his lips.[/quote][/blockquote][/font][/size]
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