MCNAMARA, shannon james

[shazza]

Character Name:
Shannon James McNamara
Nickname(s):
Shan, Shaz
Gender:
Male
Age:
Eighteen
Grade:
Senior
Sexuality:
Straight
Clique:
Classic
Weight:
~ 157 lbs
Height:
5'8
Appearence:

Shannon, for all intensive purposes, is pretty average, or so he believes. In his eyes, he's not overly tall, or overly built. He's just.. average. And he's pretty complacent about it. He doesn't go out of his way to alter his physique or try and 'pretty up' his image any. There's more to life than pumps and protein shakes.

However, despite what he might think of himself, he's an attractive guy for all intensive purposes. His lack of concern for his appearance or what people think of him (so it seems) gives him an edgy, bad boy appeal. He rarely shaves and only trims when he feels the need. In all, he's a hairy bastard and he prefers the 'burly' look over clean shaven. It just adds to the whole 'I don't give a f***' vibe.

Shannon's most distinctive feature would be his eyes. For the most part, he's dark, from his skin to his hair, but his eyes are a stark contrast and are of a pale blue-green colour. They're pretty handy when it comes to getting out of trouble or getting into certain girls' pants. It's his eyes that give him his overall charisma - the aloof, almost arrogant, roguish, boy-like charm he seems to possess.

Since there's nothing overly remarkable about his appearance, he does do some things in order to draw attention to himself. He's not a massive fan of the spotlight, but he doesn't have any desire to blend in with the background, either. His hair, for one, has sported more styles than David Beckham's. Although not as nicely kept, his brown hair often holds a slight oily sheen. He typically likes it long since that's how he hides the large scar on the left side of his crown, but, at the spur of the moment, he'll shave it all off. It's hair. It grows back, after all. At current, though, it's somewhere in-between: long enough to nearly pull off a euro pony-tail but short enough to look neat and classic.

Also, as another attraction getter, Shannon has a few tattoos. The most recent being a cross on the under-side of her right arm. It's severed in the middle to express the ever-present conflict he has with 'God'. On his left arm, under his wrist, is a large eagle that, on close inspection, covers scars that were self-inflicted and then 'Life. Live it' is scrawled down the back of his tricep in Old English script as an ode to his late mother. The last is on his back and consists of Sanskrit script that stretches from the back of one deltoid to the other.

In the end, it's safe to say he does very little to maintain the image expected of a Classic. But he has the money for the brand name clothes and flashy accessories - which he wears quite happily - so he only just manages to get by. Sure, he may not do much in the way of upkeep, but his style is still quite classic; he prefers to stick with the good old tee and jeans combo but is no stranger to nice dickies or slacks and button down shirts. He idolizes men from the 50's (James Dean and Frank Sinatra, for example) for their style and charming swagger, often trying to emulate it but with his own modern and rebellious twist.

Personality:

Shannon comes off as careless. He lacks drive and ambition and looks to others for direction. It's not so much that he's a follower, it's more that he is beyond caring. He's so complacent about life that he, now-a-days, just goes through the motions, following friends and doing as they do just to get through it all. Plus, he's not a fan of confrontation. At the same time, he carries this nonchalant and carefree attitude, as if nothing phases him. Because of this, he doesn't seem all that 'switched-on'. He has his witty moments but, for the most part, he seems a bit slow.

To his credit, Shannon is a pretty decent guy. He's well-mannered and friendly to those that get to know him. It's hard to dislike the guy because he's just so chill and easy-going however, to some, he may seem closed off and a bit too aloof. Although he can get moody from time to time, he's generally unflappable and fairly subdued which is mostly due to his misuse of perscription drugs.

Most importantly, his friendly nature leads to him being a flirt. It's not so much that he's always trying to pick up, it's just how he is. It's because of this that he seems to come off as over-confident when, in actuality, it's quite the opposite. His lack of confidence in himself has lead to him feeling his best when he's in a relationship and it's rare for him to be single. He treats his girlfriends well and usually remains on good terms with them post break up, or, at least, he tries. Deep down, Shannon's a total romantic, although he'd never admit it.

Shannon sets himself up for abuse. Although he comes off as reckless and unconcerned, Shannon invests a lot in the relationships he has with people and truly wants nothing more than to be accepted. It's because of this that he's easily taken advantage of and hurt. But he lets it happen and appears to roll with the punches. In actuality, it just fuels his insecurities and his dependence on booze and pills. But he's Shannon, he's not suppose to be bothered by things, and he's good at laughing it all off. Plus, his binges just make him seem like a typical party boy.

History:

Shannon was born Shannon James Sullivan in Venice Beach, California and he really should have been a dumpster baby. His mother had been a scared fourteen year old who had opted to dump her baby with the presumed father: an eighteen year old addict and dealer.

The next five years of his life have, for the most part been forgotten. Neglect and abuse had been prevalent but he, to this day, insists that he was too young to remember. However, there was one incident he can't forget, simply because he bears the scar (and metal plate) from it to this day. It was two days after Christmas and Shannon was in the hospital with a fractured skull. The reason given was that he had 'fallen down some stairs' but, in reality, it had been a case of a baseball bat meeting a five year old face. And it was one too many strikes for the 'family' raising him. Thus, child protection services swooped in and 'saved' him by putting him in an orphanage.

For the next five years, Shannon bounced from one family to another, never finding a permanent home. His transitory life was almost worse than the life he had endured prior to CPS' 'intervention'. Feeling incompetent and thrown away, he started to act out, as any kid would who was starved of attention. He grew to hate the system that put him in his position and rebelled accordingly. By eight, he was smoking and learning to use drugs. By ten he was in and out of juvenile detention, committing a long list of misdemeanours and petty crimes. His future looked bleak: another kid who had fallen through the cracks. Another who would grow up and continue his ways, ending up a burden to tax payers from being in and out of court and county jails until his inevitable demise.

However, this all changed the year before he was to enter grade six and it was all due to a mentouring programme brought on by the school to try and manage and, in other words, help at risk children. Shannon happened to be one of the kids enrolled (against his will) in the programme and, it was through this, he met Brenda McNamara, a nurse who had a habit of taking in strays.

Bren was the first person that Shannon can remember who actually spoke to and treated him like an actual human being and not just something that could be tossed away. She managed to build enough trust with the misguided youth that he eventually opened up to her. His prize-winning smile that had been all but lost returned. And life seemed to take a turn for the better. As a mentor, Bren was what Shannon needed: a confidant to vent to and a guiding light to turn to. He became more even mannered and balanced; his animosity towards the system and life in general diminished. He found healthier outlets than what he had been turning to prior to their meeting and, eventually, she became like family.

Over the next three years, Bren kept in contact with Shannon, even after the programme ended. A new school lead to a new Shannon, a more behaved and seemingly adjusted Shannon. He spent holidays with the McNamara's and got to know Bren's daughter, Leah, and her husband, Joe, well. His grades improved and he found himself growing more interested in extracurriculars and building relationships with his peers whereas before he had been more focused on playing hooky and cruising the beaches looking for trouble.

After over a year, Bren had taken such a liking to Shannon that she began a battle for custody. It took two years but, eventually, Shannon found himself legally living with the McNamaras. And, although Shannon was use to adjusting to new families, his new 'father' wasn't overly keen. Joe supported Brenda but Shannon wasn't exactly the type of kid the ex-Marine would ask for. Although their personalities clashed, Joe did his best to make Shannon feel welcomed. Leah, however, took to Shannon. Completely different and four years older than the once hellion, Leah did her best to include him and help him out as much as she could. In all, Shannon, for the first time, felt what it was like to be a part of a family.

Life seemed to look up for Shannon. He was living in more upscale area with a family who had plenty of money and love to go around. A shift in schools lead him to begin his high school career at Lincoln and, ergo the rougher school when compared to Hillard, it was perfect for Shannon. His personal life flourish and his confidence grew and, with it, his popularity. However, Shannon's life is no Cinderella story. What he didn't know was that Brenda was battling cancer and had been - mostly unbeknowst to her - since Shannon became a part of the family. And all it took was two years for the B-cell Non-Hodgkins lymphoma to claim her life.

It wasn't fair. None of it was fair. The one person who had made him feel like he was worth a damn – like he was a human being – had been taken from him by a disease that was only common in middle aged men. It was as if his life was some sick joke. It had been hard watching her struggle, watching her try not to cry as she pulled out fists of hair whilst going through chemo. But the worst was having to be present at her funeral. He felt cheated – genuinely cheated. He had believed and been thankful for the God that had put her in his life but, having had her pulled so abruptly from it, his belief faltered.

His junior year was rough and, if not for Leah, he would have most definitely had to repeat it. Depression took him and it had been nearly impossible for him to get out of bed most days. It frustrated him immensely; his insecurities flared and self-loathing ensued which lead to heavy drinking, drug use, and self harm. His grief wasn't suppose to linger like this. Men did their thing and got over it. But he just couldn't shake it. His erratic behaviour, mood swings, and depression lead to him being placed on medication. And one medication lead to another. Inevitably, he became hooked on pharmaceuticals.

Now a days, Shannon just goes through the motions. He parties hard and it has lead to his relationship with Joe to be strained, at best, and he rarely spends much time at home now that Leah is on the other side of the country attending college. His time is spent at the beach, specifically at the McNamara's beach home in Santa Monica. He's traded benzodiazepines and anti-depressants for opiates and barbituates, preferring to just live his life numb and comes off as happy because of it. And, although he's been quite good at covering up his past (the eagle tattoo now covers the scars left from cutting), he can't hide everything.

However, Shannon's not the sort to enjoy pity parties. He doesn't like to divulge details (or anything, for that matter) about his past. When asked, he simply says that he's an marine brat. If people question his scars, he says they're from a car accident. He's pretty guarded about his past and he sees no need to talk about it. Best to avoid it.

Sample Rp:

"Lans, loo-" He didn't even get a chance to get two words out before he felt something smack his face. It didn't even hurt - not yet anyway - it just.. stunned him. He hadn't expected her to slap him although he should have given the present and past circumstances. And, once that shock left him, the stung set in and his brow narrowed, the sting of feeling humiliated by this all unfolding in front of anyone in the parking lot more painful than the actual slap. In that instant, he felt like blowing up; all he wanted to do right now was go off on her, get in her face and do everything he was legally permitted to do outside of hitting her. Bring on world war fucking three for all he cared. Had she really just slapped him?? It took every ounce of what little self discipline he had not to snap at her, call her something he'd immediately regret and, really, she had the fact that they were in some public setting to thank for that. If they had been somewhere more private he probably wouldn't be hesitating. But all the morasse of feelings he had been feeling prior to that smack also kept him in line.. but now they were just even more all over the place than they were five seconds before, making him feel more than lost as he started questioning everything going on in his head.

Hearing her hiss that more than appropriate response, his face remained indignant, brows still narrowed and set, jaw square, the muscles along it tense, a vein at the side of his head looking ready to pop. And then he just went off, told he about everything and how challenging it was to be an addict and to not care let alone know what the fuck you were doing only to hear her reply with "I don't care what it's like! I don't want to know, and I can't believe you're using that as an excuse. And maybe I don't know what it's like to use, but I know what it's like to lose someone you love to it. And I know what it's like to know that you come second to the drugs, and I'm done with it. So don't talk to me about what you went through. Do you want me to tell you what it's like to be raped? The headgames you play with yourself after wards? We can compare notes.

[/i][/b]" That shut him up. There was one little word in there she used that practically made him turn in on himself and suddenly all the anger and frustration turned into the very real guilt he felt and it was like an acid burning him from the inside out. He felt sick to his stomach and his lips twiched ever so slightly, a frown threatening as he attempted to maintain her gaze yet he inevitably gave up, looking away as his eyes burned and narrowed to slits, his focus blurring as he eyed the pavement despite how painful that glaring light gray colour hurt his hungover retinas. As much as it was an excuse, Manny hadn't intended on it being such. He just thought he was justified in letting her know what he went through and how he had had little to no control over it. Well, he could have, he had just intentionally been careless, reckless. His mental state had deteriorated so far by that stage he didn't care, he had been too fucked to care.

The word rape was like a sucker punch. It had knocked everything out of him and he honestly had no fight left. It hurt to even try and breath. He knew she didn't deserve what he had put her through or what he still might put her through. He knew that she deserved to walk away from this. Hell, she deserved to run away from this. But he was too selfish... and he desperately wanted to be selfish. She might not need him but he needed her. Sure, it was wrong to just turn to her whenever he needed her, call her up when it was convenient for him, get back with her once he was done playing games with other girls. It was fucked and he knew it but he needed her in his life. He needed that constant - that one person that he knew would always be there. Cuz, really, he had no one. He had quite literally burnt every bridge he had. And, even while asking her to stay, to not leave, to not walk away, he knew the chances were slim that she would stay. It wasn't the situation that was fucked. Or the past. It was him. In the odd sober (or hungover) moment - like today - he saw this, ackowledged it. And he hated it.

When she asked him what else he had to say, he found himself at a loss. There was so much he wanted to say he just didn't know how to say it. He felt like he didn't have half the words to express what he wanted to say to her. He found himself growing frustrated as he sputtered, "I just.." He looked around then, as if something might aide him with his words but nothing was helping. In fact, fumbling over what he wanted to say was only aggravating him. Fuck, why didn't he just throw in the towel?

Sounding pained and beyond aggravated, he dropped to a crouch, hands moving to the top of his head as his teeth clenched, nose flaring as he tried to breath. He desperately did not want to reflect back on that night between them that had lead to such a rift because that - thanks to the word she had used to describe what happened - would lead to him thinking of that other night with Miki and it just hurt too much. He shut his eyes tight then, sucking in his lips before releasing them as he took in a few deep breaths. Finally, his eyes opened and he looked in her direction, "Fuck Lans... okay" His hands dropped back, moving over his head to the nape of his neck as he struggled, muttering "I have a shit load to say...I just.." His hands moved to his face, wiping over it before dropping away, "I don't know how to fuckin say it."
[/size][/color][/font][/blockquote]
Celeb:

Justin Bobby Brescia

Out Of Character:

Sho; ancient; 10+; pm me here or message me on yahoo (summerkelsa) or aim (fromanothershore); definitelyxmaybe<3

I was a member here a year and a half ago... just thought I'd spring up again! Felt no need to alter much since everyone he was associated with is gone ( ;

[/size][/blockquote]

[( tahlia )]

Welcome back! I'll start by saying I absolutely love him and I loved reading every bit of this. Everything was so interesting to read. His history was easily my favourite area, I feel so bad for him! You kept me wanting to read and I really can't wait to hear more from him. Move onto step three and you're ready to go.