Post by Matthew Williams on Nov 2, 2011 20:47:04 GMT -5
You want to tell me what this is all about?
Name: Matthew Williams Jones
Street Name: Doctor (his old name), Fantôme
As I walk through the valley of the shadow of death
I take a look at my life and realize there's not much left
I take a look at my life and realize there's not much left
Age: 19
Bitch or Homie: Homie
Cause I've been blastin' and laughin so long that
Even my ma'ma thinks that my mind is gone[/font][/size][/b]
Where you from?: Polaris, America
Whatchoo do?: For-Hire Assassin/Sniper, day shift bartender, college student (studying Anatomy, first year)
Who you be reppin?: None. If you give him enough money for a job, he’ll do it. But he won’t make any official ties or promises to anyone.
But I ain't never crossed a man that didn't deserve it
Me, be treated like a punk, you know that's unheard of
Me, be treated like a punk, you know that's unheard of
How you do:
[/li][li] Soft spoken (with an occasional stutter, this mostly shows when he’s nervous.)
[/li][li] Intelligent
[/li][li] Honest
[/li][li] Hard working
[/li][li] Socially Awkward/Anxious
[/li][li] Kind
[/li][li] Easily embarrassed
[/li][li] Sadistic
[/li][li] Picky eater (only eats the best, which is often why he cooks for himself)
[/li][li] Polite
[/li][li] Meek
[/li][li] Devious/Sneaky (occasionally)
[/li][li] Caring
[/li][li] Protective
[/li][li] Dependable
[/li][li] Sweet (It’s pretty cute, but he hates being called cute)
[/color]
You better watch how you talkin, and where you walkin
Or you and your homies might be lined in chalk
Your thing:
[/li][li] Maple
[/li][li] Snow
[/li][li] Nice guns
[/li][li] His family
[/li][li] Alfred
[/li][li] Canada
[/li][li] School
[/li][li] Hockey
[/li][li] Lacrosse
[/li][li] Books
[/li][li] His job
[/li][li] Cooking
[/color]
I really hate to trip, but I gotta loc'-
As they grew I see myself in the pistol smoke, fool
Not your thing:
[/li][li] Extremely loud things (He’s used to Alfred)
[/li][li] Fatty, greasy foods/Fast Food in general
[/li][li] Being forgotten or overlooked
[/li][li] Being mistaken for Alfred
[/li][li] Stereotypes
[/li][li] His other personality
[/li][li] Large numbers of people
[/li][li] Closed in/tight spaces
[/li][li] Bad food/bad cooking
[/li][li] Crying (He does cry, but that doesn’t mean he likes it)
[/color]
I'm the kinda G the little homies wanna be like
What you been through: Born as the younger of the two, Matthew was overlooked for most of his childhood. His meek personality shadowed by the large and exciting personality that was his older twin, Alfred. On occasion, his presence would go completely unnoticed in a room. He was also often mistaken for Alfred when they were children, and on a rare occasion now because of Alfred dying his hair blonde. Matthew stood by Alfred for most of his childhood, being almost inseparable. So when Alfred joined the 6th Street Stars, so did Matthew. He felt the need to protect his brother and tried to keep quiet amongst the others. Eventually, Matthew left, stating that he “had done his job”. He still has the tattoo on his arm from his days in the gang, stubbornly refusing to remove it for unsaid reasons. Somehow, even after nearly two years out of the gang scene, Matthew was still twitchy and needed to get back out there, but at the same time, he didn’t want to make any ties or endanger anyone he cared about. Thus abandoning his old street name and taking his new one; Fantôme, advertising himself, to those who needed him, as a ‘for-hire assassin’. To this day, he is still very attached to Alfred (jokingly calling him ‘prince’ on rare occasion in memory of a childhood fairytale) and his father.
On my knees in the night
Other shit:
[/li][li] Matthew decided to take Anatomy because he thought it would help him better understand the body’s weak points, making his job as an assassin easier. This later developed in to a hope of someday becoming a doctor.
[/li][li] He owns a stuffed polar bear named Kumajirou. Despite the fact that he’s had it since birth, it’s actually because he’s owned it for so long that he often forgets its name. It sits on his bed and it’s one of his prize possessions.
[/li][li] He has an annoying curl around the front of his head that does a loop-de-loop. No matter what he does, it won’t stay where he wants it to. Most often, he just lets it be.
[/li][li] He developed a darker personality once he began to assassinate. This side has little care for those who he is sent after. He simply takes his money and does his job. Because of this, Matthew fears that he might be sent after someone he loves someday and that he won’t be able to stop himself.
[/li][li] He has strawberry blond hair. He finds it odd since his parents are super gingers and Alfred also got the ginger gene. He also knows how genetics work and that he should’ve inherited his parents red hair. He was tricked by Alfred as a child, believing for several months that he was adopted.
[/li][li] He speaks fluent French.
[/li][li] He has a Canadian citizenship.
[/li][li] He sometimes wears black leather gloves to hide the faint red tinge to his skin after a kill.
Sayin prayers in the street light
[/color]Show us what you got:
—RP Sample from my app for Romania at Zirkustalia—
Quiet, you are not allowed to be noticed. Subtle, as if you were never there.
She knew the routine by heart and her body seemed to react without her noticing. Within a few seconds she had the large loaf of bread under her arm and she ran. Nothing got her adrenaline going like running after a theft. Nothing other than dancing, she guessed. Then she heard a sound, it pierced through her thoughts and brought her back down to earth. It was the sound of yelling and fast paced steps.
Damn, she had been caught.
Dashing around a building corner Ekaterina picked up the pace the best she could. Getting a tighter grip on the bread she began to twist and turn throughout buildings in attempt to lose the man chasing her.
Hopping over a brick wall, she stopped and greedily sucked in a breath of air. She wiped the sweat from her forehead and looked in to her arms at the prize of her hardships. She took a large chunk of the loaf and stuffed it in her mouth.
“MMMM!~ This is so good!~”
Sliding on to the ground, Ekaterina sat and enjoyed her small feast; courtesy of whoever made that delicious bread. She began to let her eyes flutter closed, when she hear some music from the distance. It was a peculiar tune, one she had never heard before.
Tired, she sluggishly got up and let her ears guise het to the mysterious music’s source. It seemed to be a long walk, but within a few minutes she had reached her destination. It appeared to be a circus. Upon closer inspection, Ekaterina found a small hole she could peek through from the side of the tent.
She saw a man, from the side she could see his snow white hair and what appeared to be eyes as red as a fine wine. Then, he turned. She saw tattoos accenting the one side of his face in a mysterious pattern. She felt her breath taken back by the sight of the man alone. He called this place the ‘Zirkus’ and announced himself as the Ringmaster. The Ringmaster called out the various acts, and one by one each person came out and thrilled her beyond belief. She had even gained an especially large smile when a knife thrower had come out, doing an art she had always dreamed of learning.
Ekaterina slowly began to pull herself away from her peep hole, as all the acts had ended. For some reason though, she felt her heart beating fast and her blood rushing through her veins.
She only ever got this feeling twice: When stealing, and when dancing.
She didn’t quite know what to make of it, but she felt the need to do something out of the ordinary. Maybe she would join the Zirkus.
Quiet, you are not allowed to be noticed. Subtle, as if you were never there.
She knew the routine by heart and her body seemed to react without her noticing. Within a few seconds she had the large loaf of bread under her arm and she ran. Nothing got her adrenaline going like running after a theft. Nothing other than dancing, she guessed. Then she heard a sound, it pierced through her thoughts and brought her back down to earth. It was the sound of yelling and fast paced steps.
Damn, she had been caught.
Dashing around a building corner Ekaterina picked up the pace the best she could. Getting a tighter grip on the bread she began to twist and turn throughout buildings in attempt to lose the man chasing her.
Hopping over a brick wall, she stopped and greedily sucked in a breath of air. She wiped the sweat from her forehead and looked in to her arms at the prize of her hardships. She took a large chunk of the loaf and stuffed it in her mouth.
“MMMM!~ This is so good!~”
Sliding on to the ground, Ekaterina sat and enjoyed her small feast; courtesy of whoever made that delicious bread. She began to let her eyes flutter closed, when she hear some music from the distance. It was a peculiar tune, one she had never heard before.
Tired, she sluggishly got up and let her ears guise het to the mysterious music’s source. It seemed to be a long walk, but within a few minutes she had reached her destination. It appeared to be a circus. Upon closer inspection, Ekaterina found a small hole she could peek through from the side of the tent.
She saw a man, from the side she could see his snow white hair and what appeared to be eyes as red as a fine wine. Then, he turned. She saw tattoos accenting the one side of his face in a mysterious pattern. She felt her breath taken back by the sight of the man alone. He called this place the ‘Zirkus’ and announced himself as the Ringmaster. The Ringmaster called out the various acts, and one by one each person came out and thrilled her beyond belief. She had even gained an especially large smile when a knife thrower had come out, doing an art she had always dreamed of learning.
Ekaterina slowly began to pull herself away from her peep hole, as all the acts had ended. For some reason though, she felt her heart beating fast and her blood rushing through her veins.
She only ever got this feeling twice: When stealing, and when dancing.
She didn’t quite know what to make of it, but she felt the need to do something out of the ordinary. Maybe she would join the Zirkus.
Been spending most our lives living in the Gangsta's Paradise