Post by NATHANIEL GEORGE EDGECROFT on Apr 25, 2011 15:09:27 GMT -5
[/font]NATHANIEL GEORGE EDGECROFT
HEY Y'ALL. I'M MERROW AND I HAIL FROM THE OLDE ENGLISH TYME. YOU CAN CONTACT ME AT MERMAIDS-AND-MACHINES@LIVE.CO.UK. OH, BY THE WAY, I'VE BEEN ROLEPLAYING FOR APPROX. SIX YEARS.
___________________________
full name
nickname
birthdate
gender
sexual orientation
education
Nate remembers little of his time at St.Martin's: the years passed in a blur of handwriting exercises and dull assemblies, the monotony broken only by tests and exams that he passed with ease. What little he does remember is tainted by an overwhelming sense of boredom, and a deep hatred of the sloppy, overcooked school dinners that he was forced to endure for seven long years. He celebrated the end of his final year at St.Martin's by burning his school uniform in the family garden, accidentally setting fire to the shed in the process.
HERNE HALL SCHOOL (11 - 16)
All of the Edgecroft children were sent to Herne Hall, a private boarding school with an excellent reputation, but while his elder sisters were model pupils, Nate was commonly known as 'that troublesome Edgecroft boy'. His calm, quiet countenance belied a sense of mischief that was forever getting him into trouble, but nevertheless he passed his exams with flying colours. In Year 11 he even earned the title of Prefect, though with his disregard for school rules and inability to follow orders he was probably the worst Prefect in Herne Hall's history.
ELIZABETH COLLEGE (16 - 18)
Nate worked tirelessly throughout his two years at Elizabeth College, determined to follow in his grandfather's footsteps by earning a place at the University of Cambridge. He was elected Student Union officer in his second year, winning over the masses with his quiet charm and easy smile, and left the college with a glowing report and a firm group of friends. His excellent exam results later allowed him to accept a place at the University of Cambridge.
UNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGE (18 - PRESENT)
Nate is currently a second-year undergraduate at the University of Cambridge, studying Archaeology and Anthropology. He is an enthusiastic member of his college's rowing club, and can often be found in the Boathouse with his teammates, drinking cider and discussing strategies for their next race. He was granted compassionate leave to visit his ill grandfather, but expects to return in early September to complete his course.[/ul]
occupation
play by
___________________________
personality
- Mischievous - Nate has a penchant for trouble. With his disregard for authority he frequently breaks rules and even laws in his search for fun and chaos, but he does so with such charm and good humour that he often escapes punishment for it.
- Intelligent - Nate didn't receive a place at the University of Cambridge out of luck or sheer determination: he has a quick, scientific mind and extensive knowledge of Anthropology, though outside of education he rarely puts it to good use.
- Charming - Nate is intentionally charming: he uses it like a weapon, manipulating others with compliments and smiles, with the silver tongue of a salesman.
- Calm - Nate is cool and collected in even the most stressful of situations, a bubble of calm in a sea of chaos. When Nate panics, you know sh*t is going down.
- Reserved - Though hardly an introvert, Nate is not one to wear his heart on his sleeve - especially around strangers. It takes a long time for him to trust somebody enough to open up to them, and even then he rarely shows his true emotions.
- Irresponsible - Nate rarely considers the consequences of his actions, and can often be found doing something inexplicably immature, such as climbing public buildings or setting off fireworks in random places.
- Condescending - He tends to be rather contemptuous of those who are younger than him, or those he perceives to be less intelligent, and this attitude is obvious in his body language and patronising comments, earning him much dislike from his peers.
- Ambitious - Nate's ambition knows no bounds. When he sets himself a goal he will do everything within his power to achieve it, and when he achieves a goal it is immediately replaced with another one. He is eternally seeking perfection in everything that he does.
- Optimistic - With Nate, the glass is always half-full. He is capable of seeing the silver lining of any situation, and has such hopefulness and confidence in the future that his optimism is almost infectious.
- Patient - His inner calm and serenity allows him to bear trials and tribulations without irritation: there are few situations which will provoke him to anger, and he is capable of sitting still for hours, whether waiting for someone or simply watching the world go by.
- Honest - Nate is painfully, brutally honest - he would rather tell a harsh truth than lie, and will gladly own up to any wrongdoing on his behalf. He speaks his mind even when his words will cause hurt or offense, although he accepts that occasionally lying by omission can have its benefits.
likes
dislikes
___________________________
legal guardians
siblings
history
- Nathaniel George Edgecroft was born in Couderay, Wisconsin, early one morning in October 1991. He was the first son (and third child) of David and Lauren Edgecroft, childhood sweethearts who'd married fresh out of high school, and they lavished love and attention on their children, indulging all their whims and fancies. His elder sisters - Grace, 5, and Lizzie, 3 - adored their new brother, regarding him with a fascination usually reserved for toys and Cartoon Network, and unsurprisingly he soon grew into a rather spoiled toddler.
- Shortly after Nate's third birthday his father received an offer of a job in England, and after much deliberating the decision was made to immigrate. They purchased a sprawling farmhouse in Cornwall, less than five minutes' walk from the beach, and - leaving the family dog, Ty, in their grandparents' capable hands - the Edgecrofts finally moved to England.
- Much of Nate's childhood passed in a blur of school, Pokemon cards, and watersports: by the age of six he was an avid surfer, spending hours in the sea with his sisters and friends. When David was finally convinced to purchase a small sailing yacht Nate abandoned his surfboard to learn to sail - the beginning of a passion that would continue throughout his teenage years.
- From the age of twelve Nate began to spend each summer in Couderay, visiting his grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins. He grew to love the quiet of the little village, and spent hours in the forest, searching for a glimpse of the elusive wolves that were seldom seen outside of the winter months. For a young teenager from Cornwall the idea of real, wild wolves was enthralling - but to his disappointment he saw neither hide nor hair of the magnificent creatures.
- Eventually he dismissed the stories of wolves as folklore, and instead dedicated his summers in Couderay to building and riding motorcycles with his cousins - a hobby his parents would have been horrified to discover. Though quite skilled at repairing the motorcycles, Nate found that he had a profound inability to actually ride them, resulting in many bumps, bruises, and broken bones as he tumbled from his bike again and again.
- In 2008 the majority of Nate's extended family moved to Milwaukee, leaving only his maternal grandparents in Couderay, and so the summers in Wisconsin came to an abrupt end, replaced by long, dull summer holidays at home in England.
- Nate's first term at university was so packed with work, 'ents', and assorted societies that he barely gave a thought to his Wisconsin family, except to wonder at the disappearing wolves. But in early January his maternal grandmother passed away, and the Edgecrofts - extended family included - amassed in Couderay to pay their respects. It was then, during his first winter visit to the village, that Nate finally got his glimpse of the wolves.
- A small pack were flitting through the forest, their thick coats flecked with snow. As Nate moved for a closer look the wolves scented him, and one - a sickly, silver-gray straggler - paused to return his stare. For a moment Nate thought he saw a glimpse of something human in those amber eyes - and then the wolves were gone, fleeing into the darkness as swiftly as they'd come. The encounter furthered his interest in the elusive wolves of Couderay, Wisconsin, and later inspired a research essay on werewolves in folklore.
- In the spring of 2011 his maternal grandfather was diagnosed with early-stage Alzheimer's Disease, and though Nate's cousin Julie offered to care for him, her career meant that she would be unable to return to Couderay until September. Their family were at a loss, but Nate - in a burst of characteristic recklessness - declared that he would stay with his grandfather until Julie's arrival, and - having sought compassionate leave from university - boarded a flight less than a week later.
- In April 2011 Nate finally arrived in Couderay, exhausted and jetlagged following a long flight from London Heathrow, and wielding a single suitcase of his belongings.
___________________________
roleplay sample
Rain. Endless sheets of rain that fell from the heavens like silver bullets. Rain that soaked the skin and chilled the bone, and painted the world in shades of grey. Hawke loved the rain. He stood in a rare clearing amidst the skeletal, twisted trees, tail held out behind him, soaking up as much rain as he could. Some folks sunbathed, lapping up the sun’s rays with something bordering addiction, but for Hawke Van Aslan it was always about the rain. He loved storms, when the sky clouded over with grey and thunder clapped and water dropped like bombs. It made him feel alive. Although nobody could classify the morning’s weather as a storm, it was raining madly, and that was a start. Within minutes Hawke was entirely drenched, and his fur stood on end to protect him from the cold and the wet. But Hawke was lavishing in it. He closed his eyes and just let the rain take him.
But after fifteen minutes of ‘rainbathing’, the Alpha of La Vague De La Terre was forced to concede that even he couldn’t stand in the rain all day. Not because it was unpleasant, or because it had grown tiresome, but because he had Other Duties. The dreaded Other Duties that were an unfortunate clause of being an Alpha. He hadn’t been told about these onerous tasks – there was no small print, no handy pamphlet to tell him how things were done – and his Grandfather had made pack leadership look easy. Hawke supposed it probably was easy, with over five years of experience and more pack members than you knew what to do with. But La Vague De La Terre didn’t have that luxury, and so Hawke was forced to do his own dirty work. Which, first and foremost, meant border patrol.
He stroked the ground beneath his paws sadly, exhaled – his breath was visible as a white puff in the chilly air – then set off. Underwater he looked elegant – beautiful, even – but with his long limbs and tiny paws, on land Hawke just looked clumsy. His gait was jumpy and uneven, as though he wasn’t quite sure where to place his feet, and he held his nose in the air so he couldn’t see anything in his path. He was continually tripping over tree roots and rocks, recovering himself quickly, and praying to the gods that nobody had witnessed his lack of propriety. For the most part Hawke was everything that his parents had wanted in a child: handsome, polite, intelligent... but flawless he was not. His continuous desire to reach his father’s high standards meant that more often than not he missed them entirely, and so he was forever striving to better himself.
The territory border was scent-marked, and so Hawke knew when he reached it. Though he personally thought it unlikely that there would be any trespassers – few wolves were interested in the watery world of the Vagues – border patrol was one of those traditions that one simply had to do. Beneath the canvas of trees he was unwillingly sheltered from most of the rain, although every now and again a large drop would roll off of branches to plop somewhere on his body, and whenever it did he sighed happily. Hawke lowered his muzzle to the ground and set off along the border dictated by certain scent-marked trees and landmarks, scanning the landscape for unwelcome visitors. He felt he had this Alpha thing firmly under control. Though he wasn’t the friendliest or the most sociable of leaders, he knew his duties – and did them well enough. Yes, all was well –
Smack. His foot caught in a twisted root, and he tripped, hitting the ground face-first. His body tangled up in a knot, and for a moment he lay frozen in the dirt, shocked. Then he opened his eyes, and saw that what he’d landed in was in fact a great pool of mud – most of which was now stuck to the hairs on his face. He huffed, and untangled his legs, standing with as much elegance as a newborn foal. Then he tried to shake some of the mud from his fur with as much dignity as he could muster. “Goodness, how foolish of me.”
[/ul][/blockquote][/blockquote][/size]
