DONOVAN, ashton mikael

[cloudie]

Character Name: ashton mikael donovan
Nickname(s): ash
Gender: Male
Age: sixteen
Grade: Sophomore
Former School: Transfer
Sexuality: Straight
Clique: Exchange Student
Weight: one hundred and twenty-one pounds
Height: five feet eleven inches
Appearence:

The first thing you will probably realize about Ash is how skinny he is. He's pretty skinny and lanky for both his height and age. He has particularly long legs, which gives him considerable speed, but other than that he doesn't look like the type to be playing sports all day long. In fact, it's obvious that he seems pretty weak and delicate, even, as his thinness is often mistakenly seen as an unhealthy condition. Another rather interesting part about Ash is his eyes. Both his parents had had simple brown eyes, but he adopted a deep blue color, and it are these eyes, not his hair or any other part of his face, that genuinely stand out. Framing those eyes are a pair of dark brown eyebrows, often accompanied by a slightly wavy brown sidebang. His hair is often styled differently, but it is always the same color of brown. Most of the times, it is in a small sidebang, other times it is gelled up. There are also times that he completely neglects his hair and lets it be, poking out in all directions.

Ash dresses for the occasion, and doesn't take formal clothing lightly. If he had a choice, he would be stuck in a suit and tie all day long just because it seems clean and rather orderly. His formal style of clothing doesn't prevent him from having a casual taste either. However, it was only recently did he figure out the existence of skinny jeans and simple graphic t-shirts. He used to often sport dress shoes, but now he is seen wriggling in Converse or Vans. As for the types of clothing brand he prefers, he isn't particularly picky about the casual clothing he chooses, but when it comes to suits and ties, he orders them online from a store he's been devoted to a long time at his former country.

In a nice and expensive suit, a perfect grooming to his hair, and a small smile he may look flawless, but his appearance is far from being so. On his lower back is a permanent scar that he had received several years ago from an accident. It isn't particularly deep, and it has healed for the most part, but it will leave a permanent mark. It is about a foot long, and cuts in a slightly crooked line. Ashton isn't proud of it and therefore always tries to keep a shirt on to cover it. As for piercings and tattoos, he had his arm tattooed at age fourteen without thinking over the permanent consequence of having the tattoo all his life. Now a small mark that says 'BITE ME!' along with a few other small decorations is on his wrist, and it doesn't correspond with his personality at all.

Personality:

Ashton, to sum it up quite nicely, is a gentleman. He was raised that way by both of his parents. Being polite and courteous was how he was taught to live his life and to treat others. Ever since a young age, Ashton has been taught to be respectful, kind, and generally accepting to many of those around him. Ash had never complained about this or even thought about being stubborn, as he was taught to be gentlemanly from a very young age. The trait had just rolled into his life and it is now possibly stuck with forever. He doesn't mind, however, as he prefers to be respectful and polite to others, even if they aren't as generous back.

It is easy to approach Ashton and to introduce yourself, as he will only (out of politeness) introduce himself back. Most will get the impression that he is respectful, but he probably won't reveal anything other than that until one gains his trust. He is only slightly paranoid about gaining others' trust. Sure, he can shake another's hand and introduce himself, but you won't find him spilling out his life secrets or his favorite books and colors within moments. Once you get his name, that will probably be the only thing you'll get until you can coax something more out of him. In addition to this, he is also particularly shy and private. His shyness doesn't seem particularly obvious, as he usually keeps an image of a bright smile and a welcoming, warm look, but if he had been not taught to be so polite he would probably look a bit nervous and anxious when it comes to meeting new people. He is also pretty quiet and is the type to nod along to stories rather than being the one who tells them. Ashton happens to cover a lot of his true personality - a bit paranoid, plenty shy, secluded, and quiet as well - with a reassuring smile. He had also been taught from an early age to never look nervous or negative, so he had adapted to adopting a polite look all the time.

As for his hobbies, he cannot do sports particularly well. He is a speedy runner, but that's about as much athletics you can get out of him. He won't be able to do much else other than run fast. Push-ups and sit-ups are torture for him, and sports such as football (American) will virtually destroy him for sure. Therefore, he isn't a huge fan of sports. It's the one thing that he doesn't bother to be respectful about it. He hates most athletics and isn't afraid to show it. He prefers to hide indoors with a nice book of poetry or a notebook and pen. After all, he is a writer.

He has been writing ever since he was about seven-years-old, when he got his first book of poetry from his grandmother. Ever since, he had been obsessed with literature, mainly simple poetry. Although not the best at writing, he does enjoy reading immensely. He truly feels comfortable when it comes to literature and hopes to become a poet when he grows older. He is also pretty much a bookworm, and not just for poetry as well. He finds many biographies and nonfiction novels quite fascinating, and occasionally picks up a fantasy as well.

Literature is his strong point, but he isn't as great in other subject such as math. Numbers are a bit odd to Ashton, and Ashton is never the type to study for tests. He does attempt to do well in school, but he always has trouble finding the motivation and the self-confidence to do anything extraordinary. He doesn't have issues about thinking he's horrible and doesn't deserve to exist in this world, but as of yet he cannot find anything that can really push himself to try harder in his schoolwork.

To sum it all up: Ashton's admittedly quiet, shy, and a bit anxious as well. It is a bit difficult to gain his trust, but it won't take long to be on a friendly basis with him. He enjoys literature and poetry, and struggles a bit when finding self-motivation. Other than that, he is genuinely nice and polite and respectful. Although he isn't the most outgoing out there, he isn't the type to provoke anyone on purpose.

History:

Born on a December 18th in Los Angeles, California to English parents Marianne and Jonathan Donovan, Ashton lived in Los Angeles for about four months before his parents moved back to England, where Ashton spent the first fifteen years of his life. He had one older sibling, a sister by the name of Ashley, but the age gap between them was particularly large. When Ashton turned seven, his sister as already at a university abroad, so she wasn't one that he particularly connected with. His parents were and still are extremely busy people, both working for a global model agency. Therefore, Ashton was mainly looked after by his grandmother, who also contributed a lot to teaching him how to be respectful and polite. Ashton bonded with his grandmother quickly, and by the time he was eight he saw her as more of a parent figure than his own parents were.

As a child, he was relatively quiet - just like he is now. He was obsessed with poetry ever since a young age, and instead of playing sports with the other kids outside, sat on the sidelines and scribbled in a small pocket notebook that he carried around at all times. He filled notebooks and notebooks with poems that varied in length and types. In fact, he made sure that his grandmother read every single poem he wrote. He spent most of his childhood obsessing over literature and pleasing his grandmother.

When he was thirteen, almost fourteen, his grandmother passed away in her sleep in the middle of the night due to her extreme old age. She had been living in his household, and Ashton was always the one to wake his grandmother up every morning, so in the early morning after his grandmother's silent death, he crept into her bedroom, holding a notebook. He had just written a poem about his grandmother herself, as he had realized that she was the one who really started him into liking literature. He had worked on the poem for hours, and was particularly proud of it and just couldn't wait for his grandmother to see it. He had reached the bed, and noticed something was off, but swept it away. He was much too excited to show his grandmother how much he felt thankful for her with his poem.

Thirteen-year-old Ash had leaned over his grandmother's bed as soon as he realized that something was definitely wrong. He had tossed aside his notebook of poems and drew back the covers over his grandmother's body, and immediately realized what happened. Instead of calling for help from downstairs, he had merely widened his eyes in surprise and clumsily and hastily ran from the room, leaving behind his book of poems. Ashton had scrambled back to his room quickly, and by the time he reached it he felt tears coming from his eyes.

He had sobbed as quietly as he could, but it was only a matter of time before someone noticed. Ashton had only been crying for about half an hour when he heard an alarmed shriek coming from his grandmother's bedroom upstairs, and then moments later his own bedroom door was open to reveal his parents, genuinely horrified and surprised. It took a while for Ashton to calm down, and by the time he did it was plainly confirmed: his grandmother had died. As soon as Ash heard the confirmation, he tore himself from his mother's grasp - this was particularly surprising, as he was rarely so defiant- and ran from the house, and grabbed his bicycle and pedaled as hard as he could.

It was perhaps the strongest athletic stress he had in his whole life. He didn't care how far he was going or where, he just kept pedaling and pedaling forward, bringing all his rage and frustration and sadness and surprise into each pedal. He had started pedaling at ten AM, and stopped at around four PM near a small neighborhood of houses. Tired, exhausted, hungry, and most of all pained from that morning's events, he threw aside his bicycle and sat in the middle of the street, too tired to move. Just then, a car began to come down the street, but Ashton had been so fatigued that he didn't even have the strength to move or signal the car to stop. Sitting - nearly laying - down on the street, he was hardly visible. The shock and course of events finally settling in, Ashton desperately rolled to the side and out of the way of the car, but not before something sharp from the car - something unknown - ripped along Ashton's back.

It was perhaps the most pain that Ash ever endured. It was the combined feelings he had about his grandmother's hasty decline and the physical pain he felt from exhaustion and the cut in his back. He had passed out from the overload of physical stress, and the next thing he knew he awoke in a very white hospital room about twenty hours later, his parents on either side of his bed and reassuring him in low whispers that everything was going to be alright. It was also one of the first times that Ashton felt truly angry and frustrated. Usually quite calm and reserved, as soon as he got the strength to speak he yelled at his parents, even though the course of that day's events had nothing to do with them. Still, he let out his steam and screamed at his parents about his grandmother and his poems and how unfair it was to die of old age when she still had some of her life to fulfill.

Within a week, Ashton was discharged from the hospital and was sent back home. The only sign of the accident was a long scar. He had also calmed himself down a considerable amount, and was back to school for his fourteenth birthday. This was also around the time he decided to get a tattoo, and carelessly got one without his parents' permission. After all, he was a bit shaken up and felt like a tiny bit of rebelling. He wanted to have a tattoo that said 'Bite me in the ass, life.' but it was too long, so it was shortened to 'bite me'. He regretted it within two minutes of the tattoo being completed. He had taken a break from poetry as his own way of mourning the loss of his grandmother, and it wasn't until two years later that he began to write again.

At age fifteen, he was doing generally well. He was still a bit touchy about the loss of his grandmother, but had at least began to pick up literature again. A few months later (right before his sixteenth birthday), his parents told him that they were to move from England back to Los Angeles and that there were to be no changes. It wasn't as if Ashton would have complained anyways, after all he always agreed with others out of respect.

And now here he is, a sixteen-year-old sophomore student from England.

Sample Rp:

Even Ashton couldn't deny it, it was extremely hot. Even it was only for a day, the plants seemed to be already dying from the extreme heat. The little shade the overhang of the house's front porch did little to help Ashton's sticky (literally) situation. The sixteen-year-old had chosen the worst day to wear a suit, complete with a stifling tie. His hair, neatly groomed that morning, was now slightly wavy and a bit oily as well. Ashton kept running his sweaty palms through his dark hair, as if that would help him feel cooler. He wasn't about to go inside and change. Oh, no, he was out here wearing a suit because he was practicing self control. It was a stupid way to learn, really, but all of his grades other than English had sunk a bit, and he knew his parents weren't going to be particularly happy.

Therefore, he was going to practice self-motivation, and the first idea that popped into his head was to sit out in the stifling heat wearing an equally uncomfortable suit. He had been sitting out here for only fifteen minutes now, but he already felt cooked. He felt suffocated and a bit fatigued, but Ashton was set on surviving out here for at least the next hour. To give up so easily would mean giving up on himself, and he was really going to try hard this time. He was sure of it.

"Come on, Ash." he told himself softly, uncurling his clenched fingers, "Just for another hour." His English accent was still particularly audible, but he was getting used to the speech here. He had originally brought out his notebook of poetry so that it gave him something to do, but there was no denying it - it was too hot for him to even write, and that was saying something. He loved writing and almost always made time for it, and this was the perfect time to do some brainstorming and writing. After all, it was the weekend and there was plenty of free time out in the boiling heat -- but, no, he was sitting here practicing his self motivation. At least he was succeeding so far. At least it was working. Ashton held up his wrist and pulled back the suit jacket sleeve for a split second, glancing at his digital watch. Frowning a bit, he pressed a few buttons on the side of the watch before grinning in satisfaction. There, a stopwatch. He couldn't wait until it hit sixty minutes.

Ashton became bored within minutes of starting the timer, and that was saying something. He was not an easy one to bore. He took interest in many things, and even if he was doing nothing he would just lean back and take his environment in - the sights and the smells and everything else - and just think about where he was and if he could write some poetry. He would usually do this, but he felt stuffy and suffocated, and wasn't in the mood for complex thinking. Ashton's fingers crawled to his tie instinctively, fingering it before he paused. He shouldn't be tempted. This was just another test of his motivation, and he had to pass it. He just had to.

"My goodness, Ashton, it's blazing out there! Get inside!" his mother's voice rang from inside the house, but he merely ignored her. "I'm working on my self-control, mum." he replied simply, "I just can't give up now!" The next thing he heard was her worryingly fretting about how he would get sunburned but he merely shook his head without glancing over his shoulder at her, "I'm fine. I can handle this, I swear." he nodded.

So he leaned back in his chair - which now felt oddly itchy and a bit awkward to sit in - and merely crossed his arms over his chest and waited. What could be harder than waiting? His suit was starting to feel really, really uncomfortable now. He glanced cautiously at his suit, and winced. This suit was most likely going to be ruined from the sweat he was admittedly emitting, but what could he do about it? What else could be more stifling in hot weather like this? Self-control self-control self-control... He thought repeatedly; desperately.

After a few silent seconds, he eventually rose from his seat. He couldn't take this anymore. He had to leave, he had to change, he had to take a cooling shower. "Why is it so hot?" he muttered under his breath and pulled open the front door to his house, ignoring the amused and smug expression his mother gave him, as if she was saying 'I told you so.' So maybe Ashton did need to work on his self-motivation skills a little bit, but maybe not by doing this.

Celeb:

Ryan Taylor

Out Of Character:

The name is Iris, but I go by Klau. <3 I'm fifteen years old and I've been roleplaying for only two years. I don't do instant messenger, sorry, but you can always send me a PM on here. Sorry for the inconvenience! Yeaaah.

[( shannon )]

You hit all the crucial points on the appearance and it was well written. And I really enjoyed his personality. He seems like a great guy and I loved how you threw in some hobbies. That really shows character development.

And wow. That history was heartbreaking! But so original! I just want to give this character a hug!

Everything was wonderful! Remind me that him and Zack need to be two messed up bff's. Accepted!!