Gabriel Emerson Reed

[han]

Character Name: Gabriel Emerson Reed
Nickname(s): Gabe, GER (like grr), Reed
Gender: Male
Age: Eighteen
Grade: Senior
Sexuality: Straight
Clique: Rebel
Weight: 148 lbs.
Height: 6'0''
Appearence:

gabe, although he considers himself to be attractive, has never put a whole lot of effort into his wardrobe. growing up in a family where neither of his parents made a whole lot of cash, he could never afford the latest styles. this didn't bother him, though. he'd throw on whatever was clean, or whatever was convenient. he has shaggy, brown hair that often hangs in his face. he rarely styles it or alters it in any way, simply because he likes how it is. he enjoys being able to roll out of bed and shake it into place without messing with gel or anything; that's just a complete and total waste of time. it tends to darker in the winter, since he spends most of his summer outside letting the sun bleach it lighter. he prefers when it's lighter, usually because his cousin teases him when it darkens for the months between november and march. his eyebrows don't have a lot of natural curve, but they do offset his eyes nicely. they could be considered rather bushy, but not untamed or unruly.

gabe's eyes are the weakness for most females that set sights on him. they are a piercing blue surrounded by naturally full eyelashes. the shade of blue changes with the weather as well, mirroring his hair to become darker in the winter (or on gloomy days) and brighter in the spring and summer (or on sunny days). while most of his iris is blue, the outer ring is a deep blue, almost navy, and near the pupil it is speckled with baby blue, which can sometimes appear green in the sunlight. he does wear contact lenses (when he remembers) but they don't change the color of his eyes, which is an accusation he gets on a daily basis. his nose is long and thin, sometimes from the profile view seeming a little too prominent for the rest of his face. he's never given a fuck though, it lets him smell, that's what it's for. his upper lip is somewhat thin in comparison to his bottom lip, which is, in a word, plush. it usually seems like he's pouting, when in reality he's not. he has a strong jawline when seen from the side, making a definitive diagonal with his neck.

his shoulders are broad when taken into account how petite the rest of him is. he has very prominent collarbones and defined muscle along his biceps. he doesn't work out regularly, so it's a very lean and sheer muscle. he's very thin around the middle, considering he never eats a whole lot and most of his free time is consumed sitting on his ass playing guitar. he does surf, so most of his exercise and muscle definition comes from that. his wide shoulders taper to his confined hips and complete lack of ass. while his legs are long and defined as well (from his years of delivering newspapers on bicycle), most of his height comes from his torso. his calf muscles are probably the most defined muscle on his body. his feet, which most people would consider normal, he thinks of as too large, so it's rare you'll see him without shoes on. he has a dragon tattoo on his left shoulder, and a small spaceship on his right ankle. his scars include several on his lower legs from playing around on the rocky sea shores, and a longer one incorporated into the dragon on his shoulder from a biking accident when he was thirteen.

Personality:

gabe, or as some people call him, reed, is somewhat of a loner. he's a quiet kid, not one to reach out to those around him for any reason whatsoever. he keeps to himself for the most part, which is the way he thinks it should always be. this leads him to be quite self-dependent, never really asking for help with anything. if he's in a store and can't find anything, he won't stop and ask where it is. if he's driving around and kind of lost, he won't stop for directions. of course, that isn't all his dependency issues (which he gets, for the most part, from his parents), it's also a product of his bull-headedness. he's very stubborn. it takes a hell of a lot of convincing to get him to change his mind, and when confronted about things he's already decided upon, he can be blunt and come across quite rude. he's actually not a mean person, but he's never been very eloquent with words. he says what he feels and that's the end of it. he's never found a real reason so sugarcoat anything, regardless of who he's talking to.

gabe isn't really shy, he just prefers to stay out of peoples' business and would like the same respect. he's been exposed to the endless drama teenagers cause and is endlessly annoyed by it, so he tends to avoid getting into it as much as possible. aside from being quiet, he's a bit of a pot head. he doesn't smoke a whole lot, but his parents are sort of stuck in the seventies, and still think the world is about free love and drugs. he'll pretty much smoke whatever you put in front of him, but prefers weed. it's not a release, or a getaway of any kind, he just likes the way it makes him feel. that, and, he can only play a good improvisation solo on the guitar when he's flying higher than a kite. because of this he's been known, on several occasions, to show up to a gig stoned out of his mind. however, those were the good gigs he played. when he's high, he's actually even more mellow than he is sober. there's nothing better to him than a nice jam session when he's cracked out on whatever his cousin brought home that day, and he isn't ashamed of it. it's really no secret that he smokes, but no one's ever seen him be unprofessional, so there's really no reason to stop it.

when it comes to music, gabe is passionate, and that's about the only thing he's that way about. music is important to him and his goal is to play guitar in a band, or for movies. every time he hears an epic guitar part in a movie, he gets jittery, in hopes that one day that will be him. but when the subject turns to love, he'd call himself 'guitar sexual'. he isn't really into the love scene. he doesn't believe in relationships for the mutual attraction, he's just in it for the physical deeds, as he might put it. he's not a virgin, and really is only into casual hookups though he doesn't allow them very often. but hey, if a good looking girl is throwing themselves at him, is he supposed to say no? his parents never taught him otherwise, and all that abstinence bullshit they teach in health class never really sunk in. he's not a man whore by any means, but he's no virgin mary. and as you might assume, he doesn't exactly initiate it. he's more along for the ride than anything. he's a very laid back guy, probably a side effect of his favorite hobby, and he doesn't plan on changing.

History:

gabriel emerson reed was the first, and only, child born to stella and alfred "freddy" reed. the pair spent the seventies in bright colors and a perpetual state of high just like the rest of america, only when the eighties rolled in, they never really rolled with it. they toned down the colors, but kept the habits they picked up. two barely-teenagers incredibly in love with each other and their weed, they would be forever stuck in the peaceful trance that seemed to fade as the years passed. they did settle down in a small house in the suburbs chula vista, a town in san diego once they graduated high school. they never went to college, partially because they didn't have the cash, and they didn't see the need. they had each other and their quaint little home. even though they were both only eighteen, their relationship was a successful one. stella and freddy never did get married, not because they didn't love each other, but they didn't want to label their love for each other with such things as a ceremony and vows. their families - both extremely old fashioned and disapproving of their children's ways - cut the pair off and moved north to start anew. stella and freddy were perfectly fine with this, all they needed was each other (and their weed) to survive.

they were together for around twenty years before zane came around, freddy having established a surprisingly successful fishing business in the nearby pacific and stella working in a vegetarian eating establishment as a cook. they had a nice little life set up, and when gabe happened, he threw a wrench in their perfect little circle. stella's pregnancy was very normal, but she only allowed natural means of prenatal care, refusing to see an actual doctor. she gave birth to gabe in their small home, but that produced some major complications. stella's labor was offset by the lack of sufficient care during her pregnancy, and by the time gabe was born he wasn't breathing. being two middle-aged and very clueless parents, stella and freddy hadn't a clue what to do. as much as they didn't want to set foot in the establishment, they came to the conclusion that their baby needed professional care. it took urging from the midwife and a distraught uncle, but gabe was admitted to the local hospital and monitored closely for several weeks. he was actually born about ten weeks prematurely, something they didn't know because stella was never aware of how far along in the pregnancy she was. luckily enough for him, his uncle shot down the name he was supposed to have (warren peace reed) and gave him a more normal one, gabriel emerson.

against all odds, gabe's lungs finished developing fully while in the hospital, and his parents got to take him home when he was about a month old. they were, of course, very happy about having a son, but weren't fit to be parents at all. their own families had never exactly been functional, so they were truly winging it with baby gabe. luckily enough for them, he was a smart baby and caught onto things fairly quickly. they didn't know how to raise him, and barely adjusted their schedules to meet the needs of his. by the time he was two, he was in the care of his cousin who was twelve at the time, freddy's brother and his three kids (all from different mothers) having moved in shortly after gabe was born. gabe learned mostly from his cousins, being taken care of by them as well while all the adults in the home were usually out with the excuse of their careers or their careless gallivanting under the influence of some kind of hallucinogen.

when gabe was five, his oldest male cousin, spade, started to teach him guitar, for lack of anything better to do. they could only go and play on the beach so much before they became bored. besides, it was a rather long walk from their cozy abode to the beach, particularly for a set of children all under seventeen. he picked it up easily, being a natural at it. he learned quickly that guitar was going to follow him the rest of his life, and that he was going to be rather skilled with it. he learned on a gibson acoustic, but by the time he hit middle school, his job as a paper boy allowed him to scrape enough together to get an electric. he was damn good on that too, and by the time he was a freshman in high school he could even pluck out a few melodies on his uncle's ukulele. up until his freshman year, his childhood was very normal. when he was a freshman and his cousin archie was a junior, they managed to stumble upon freddy's weed stash. being a junior in high school, archie knew exactly what they'd found and what to do with it. the blunt gained worlds of curiosity from young gabe, and within minutes he was higher than a kite for the first time. and he loved it.

his parents and uncle continued to spend limited amounts of time at home with their children, who all grew to be close, like siblings. gabe was a mediocre student, bitchin' on the guitar, and often quite high. he quickly discovered the world of sexual escapades, and halfway through his freshman year he lost his virginity to his first girlfriend, who was quite the little slut. their breakup was nasty, causing gabe's commitment issues and lack of trust for people. it was then that his maternal grandparents came back onto the scene, breaking up the peace, love, and drugs circle the family had going on. they moved into the small house and helped take care of the children that gabe's uncle kept having with random women, and eventually noticed gabe's uncanny talent. in attempts to get him away from the detriment of his friends and drugs, they looked into other high schools to which they could send gabe, high schools within cities that archie could find a job. it only took a couple weeks for gabe to enroll as a junior at central high, living in a small apartment with his cousin.

Sample Rp:

Tristan was in the middle of sinking a pair of plastic fangs into the neck of a fellow actress, his upper lip curled to expose the fake blood they were trying to make realistic. Naturally, it felt silly to wear, but Tristan was handling it very well. He was actually handling this movie very well. Being sober was an entirely new thing for him, at least considering the past couple months. But just because he wasn't drinking didn't mean he was better. At all, in fact, it was worse. He was emotionally a wreck, and trying his hardest not to let it show. Like in his acting, he decided to put the emotion into that instead of the liquor bottle. As if his behavior wasn't proof enough, the fact that he was actually sober, but telling everyone he was still drinking was icing on the cake. He knew the real reason why he wasn't drinking. It was because Paige told him to quit, told him how much better she liked the "old" him, whatever that was. He assumed the old him was the one that could live without a bottle in his hand. But he didn't want her, or the general public for that matter, to know he was taking her advice. Of course no one knew she specifically asked him to stop drinking but the two of them, but he didn't want people to know he'd gone soft.

"Cut!" echoed in his ears, followed by the sound of scurrying artists. Apparently some of the fake blood was askew and needed redoing. He leaned back on his heels, since both he and the other actress were seated on the ground, her on her behind and him on his knees. He looked down at his hands folded into his lap, which were looking quite different. His fingernails were false, long, and black which was extremely strange for him. They were like claws, in fact. But around that, they had been dipped in the strange red liquid. Not only was it strange to the touch, but it tasted weird. He ran his tongue over his false fangs, wondering how much it would cost to get them permanently installed. Oh wait, he wasn't a Cullen, that shit was gay. He chuckled at himself a little, and pushed himself back onto his knees as they prepared to do the scene again.

Tristan leaned in close, his face near the actress'. She shied away, but he lifted a bloodied hand, caressing her cheek with a long, black fingernail. He exhaled audibly, so the camera could catch it, then gave a dramatic inhale close to the woman's face. He turned her face closer to his, so he could look her in the eye. He had colored contacts in - red, of course - and he looked quite sinister. He didn't like them though. They were itchy and irritating, plus, he didn't what was so wrong with his green eyes. They were mesmerizing and bright, anything a girl could ask for. But he couldn't let himself get distracted. He said a couple lines, ones he'd had memorized for weeks now. Even though he was in coma and couldn't remember nearly killing himself with alcohol, he remembered every line to this script. He dramatically, and falsely, sunk his false teeth into her neck, drawing false blood, and falsely killing her. This wasn't exactly Tristan's signature type of movie, but his character got killed in the end, so he had to take the role, right?

Tristan stood up, immediately going for the fake teeth. He popped them off his canines and got to scrubbing his front teeth with his finger. When he agreed to this, he didn't realize it would mean his mouth tasting like salty relish all day. What was in that fake blood shit? Actually, he decided he'd rather not know. He ran a hand through his gelled hair, trying to loosen it up and make it his again. Well, that wasn't exactly possible, considering it was dyed darker and cropped strangely. He glanced at himself the mirror and noted how the makeup made him look sick. Well, he was sick. But not in the same way, and not visibly. He could see it, but apparently no one else knew him well enough or even cared for that matter. But he wasn't looking for friends or people to care about him. He made it twenty-five years with not a whole lot of people doing either of those things. Yes, he had fans. Yes, he had some friends. But really, what were they when your life boiled down to just a moment? A whisper?

Absolutely nothing.

He was handed a bottle of water which he promptly opened and poured some in his mouth. After a little bit of swishing it around to properly rid his mouth of the disgusting taste, he found a trash can and spit it out. He sighed, looking around the set as people packed up for the day. It was into the evening, just around dinner time for most people. Tristan wasn't hungry. No, he was just depressed. Like he was all the damn time. He leaned back against the wall, watching people scatter, leaving him alone for the most part. Well, it was his own fault, he'd sort of sunk back against the wall in the corner. Why? He didn't know. But he eventually came out, taking off the leather jacket that he'd been wearing as part of his costume and slinging it over his shoulder. He rounded the corner, and was caught with a flash of outfit and hair. "Sorry," he instantly spit out, wondering who the hell he'd have to pretend to be friendly toward now.

Celeb:

Ole Sorensen

Out Of Character:

hannah • almost eighteen • six years experience • msn → [e-mail] • the industry

[( tahlia )]

Wonderful job! Everything is so detailed and your sample is fantastic. Welcome to the site Hannah, we're so happy to have someone who produces such high quality writing. Just make sure you punctuate all posts, don't forget your capital letters. Move on to Step Three and fill out your claims darling.