Post by Devon Adhir Kirsch on Jul 8, 2009 5:59:44 GMT
Devon Adhir Kirsch
[/size][/center]Go on, believe if it turns you on
Take what you need ‘til your body’s numb
Take what you need ‘til your body’s numb
`I THINK WE HAVE AN EMERGENCY
so are you listening?
NICKNAMES Dev, Voni (vah-ni), Demon (from his parents)
SEX male
D.O.B July 15, 1983
AGE 26
HEIGHT 5’7”
ETHNICITY Caucasian w/some distant Indian on his mom’s side and German on his dad’s
SEXUALITY Bisexual
ILLNESS(S)/ REASON FOR BEING HERE Substance Abuse, mainly, but also kleptomania
PLAYED BY Pete Wentz
CLIQUE Substance Abuse
SUB CLIQUE Loners
DESCRIPTION
Devon has medium-short black hair, which usually hangs over his eyes. His thick eyebrows shadow over his muddy brown eyes. He frames his eyes with eyeliner, usually black, but sometimes in bright colors if he’s stolen someone else’s makeup. He has a very plain nose, somehow obtained from a combination of his parents’ unique noses. His skin is also a bit dark, like a permanent tan, due to the blend of his mother’s mocha color and his father’s pale complexion. He also has moderate lips; they aren’t too thin, but they’re pleasantly plump and kissable. He keeps them moist with stolen chapstick. (His favorite flavor is cherry.)
Though standing at five-foot-seven, he’s built somewhat thin, with moderate muscle. He runs semi-regularly, sometimes for fun and sometimes from people, so his health is stable. He is by no means a broad person, with narrow shoulders and hips. His stomach is flat, a little bit toned, but only because he’s an active person, not really due to working out. He has well-built legs, not skinny twig-things attached to him, so skinny jeans don’t quite look the best on him.
Devon is a fashion designer (known as Devon. – see, with the period?), so he makes his own clothes. They’re usually something flowy and rather oversized on him, and he always works in inside pockets for things he steals. His favorite jacket is a purple velvet thing to his knees with faux fur cuffs on the sleeves that go to his knuckles. It has a hood that hides his face well, since he is usually uncomfortable around large groups of people and needs something to hide behind. He also makes pants with large pockets, so they tend to look like cargo pants though they’re made in different fabrics and with oddly-placed and hidden pockets. He lately has been making himself shirts that fit his form tighter, because he’s looking a little more fit, though he still hides behind his oversized jackets.
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`AND I CANT PRETEND I DONT SEE THIS
it's really not your fault
when no one cares to talk about it
when no one cares to talk about it
NAME DISLIKES denim, getting caught, indiscriminate sex, Miley Cyrus, monotonous voices, the feeling of a nickel in his pants pocket, people who collect stupid shit, Trix yogurt, knee-high socks (on anyone), bead necklaces
HOBBIES designing clothes (his job), tearing and fixing clothes he stole, organizing his collection of stolen shit, taking pills he stole, writing songs
MOM Dale, 49, elementary school teacher
DAD Johann, 52, lawyer
SIBLINGS sad only child.
OTHER FAMILY MEMBERS no close members; parents were both single children
OVERALL PERSONALITY[/b]
▪ Sober, Devon is fairly outgoing around smaller groups of people, though he tends to hide in his oversized hoods as the groups get larger. He’s also quiet with a single person, because he needs others to fuel conversation and feels vulnerable when confronted by one person. He gets by, though, and if he knows you well he’ll loosen up considerably.
He’s not a bad person, per se, but has a lot of social anxiety and small things can freak him out or make him worry. He doesn’t like others disliking him, it makes him very uncomfortable and his primary goal is fixing whatever is apparently wrong with him that makes them not like him. His only coping mechanism for these anxieties is stealing, and he usually takes… interesting things. Interesting things are, for him, brightly colored or sparkly, and he has a fondness for taking pills. Being in a rehab center, he takes advantage of other patients’ access to various drugs and basically pops whatever he can get his sticky fingers on. His other usual things to steal are small items of jewelry, tape dispensers, cell phones, and those packets of sugar from restaurants.
Occasionally, Devon returns the objects he steals, though usually not to the same place. He prefers to wait a day or two until suspicion over him has passed, then slip it somewhere it wasn’t before. Naturally, he can’t return pills; he’s busy using those, thanks. They’re the only thing he steals that he actually consumes. Even brightly colored or shiny bottles of various drinks don’t interest him, or most foods. He keeps a small stash of different unusual pills with him, usually in the inner pockets he makes on his clothes.
High, however, Devon can be any number of things. Depending on what he’s on, he varies from stumbling and sleepy to rambling and hyper. He isn’t usually affected by drugs in a way that makes him horribly negative; the worst he’s ever gotten was extraordinarily tired. He doesn’t become depressed, not without mixing a lot of different things that finally have that impact on him. Typically he isn’t violent, either, though he may be coerced into doing violent things if rewards are promised him. He’s a very forward person while high and loves physical affection. He once crowned himself “Makeout King” and ensured that every person in the room with him received at least one long, passionate kiss from him.
Devon thinks of himself as somewhat romantic, though, and dislikes indiscriminate sex greatly. He tries to ensure he has a good reason for any such intimate relations, the most important of which being that he actually likes the person. While high, however, he can be swayed into just about anything, if he’s on the right shit.
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`IF YOU THINK I'D LEAVE THEN YOU WERE WRONG
cause i wont stop holding on
▪ Devon had a relatively mundane childhood for the first few years. His parents were quite ordinary, though Dale helped teach him things beyond his age. Johann was a great deal less interested in his child, and perfectly content to let Dale handle it. Devon was a pricelessly precocious little boy, and tried to tell the grown-ups things he was sure they couldn’t possibly already know. He started at a good preschool when he was four, and frequently read to the other students from the teacher’s book. For a few years, he continued to excel, until his home life made it too difficult.
When Devon turned six, his parents started fighting. His father descended into drug abuse, mostly prescriptions, and his mother spent most of her spare hours trying to get him to quit. Johann lost his job two years later, and became abusive. Dale started working more jobs and staying out of the house to support the family, so Devon was left alone with his father a great deal of the time. At school it wasn’t so bad, because at most he had to pretend his various injuries were from something else, but home life was nothing but misery. He started to develop anxiety problems and had trouble sleeping, until he found that stealing things – little things, tiny ones no one would probably notice – helped him feel better. It relieved his anxiety.
By the time he was nine, Devon was stealing this and that from his classmates, focused more on relieving his stress than succeeding in school. He was caught every once in a while, but by different teachers who were all startled at his good behavior otherwise. He continued to at least pass through school well into junior high. By then, he’d earned himself three hospital visits from his dad’s abuse, but still pretended it wasn’t happening. He wandered the streets after school, avoiding home as much as possible. Dale still had no idea what was going on; he refused to tell her, because she was already working herself so hard.
In freshman year, Devon’s attendance became sporadic. The abuse was slowing with Johann’s failing health, but the stealing of little trinkets from school wasn’t doing the same thing for him anymore. He hung around malls during the day, grabbing mood rings and tape dispensers and wrapping paper from dollar stores, or making off with plastic jewelry from Claire’s or Limited Too. Eventually he was hanging around different clothing stores, and started taking interesting clothing, usually women’s. At home, hiding away from his father, he experimented with the clothes and taught himself to sew, making his own new wardrobe from what he’d taken. Everything he wore from then on had extra pockets inside to stash things he stole.
Somehow, he made it through freshman year, sucking up to teachers and paying a few of them off if necessary. Sophomore year, though, things got worse. He had visited the ER due to a fresh round of fighting with his father, and when his anxiety struck, he ended up taking a nearby patient’s medication. The pills had caught his interest due to their color, and when he made his way home after he’d been fixed up, he had a whole stash of new pills in a wide swath of colors. His addiction started there, though it wouldn’t hit full-force until much later.
He dropped out of high school junior year, but moved out of his family home and disappeared to California. There, he started a small business selling clothes he’d made (with original funding from selling his contraband) until he was big enough to get noticed by a larger company. His design abilities were greatly admired and popularized throughout the state and much of the West Coast.
Of course, getting big was a stressful transition. When it was just his little shop, he had a great deal more power over what happened with his clothing. By the time he was twenty-four, however, he rediscovered that love of rainbows of pills, stealing first from a nearby clinic and later from a corner pharmacy. He started using them, combining them dangerously, throwing his health around carelessly and generally fucking off from the world. After he was found in his house unconscious by a client, he was shipped off to Michigan, where he could be hidden away from potential media upsets and recover quietly. He is not the least bit pleased about this.[/ul][/size]
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`SCARS, THEY WILL NOT FADE AWAY
I've seen you cry, way too many times
when you deserved to be alive
when you deserved to be alive
NICKNAMES Pipkin
AGE[/b] 17
WHERE CAN WE CONTACT YOU? e.rush@hotmail.com
ACTIVITY LEVEL daily, or I try
EXPERIENCE 3 years
AVERAGE POST LENGTH[/b] 200-300, I guess.
WHERE DID YOU FIND US? Teeks! PASSWORD reckless
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THE LYRICS HAVE BEEN CHANGED BY FROM AAR TO PARAMORE BY AMY OF MICHIGAN STATE[/color][/blockquote]
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