Post by Milo Dakota Lark on Mar 25, 2013 2:00:54 GMT
Milo Dakota Lark
Hey, my name is... Milo Dakota Lark
But most call me... Milo?
If you want to, you can label me... bisexual
I've been on this earth for... 16
Which means I was born... 04/25/1997
I was bitten... October of 2012
I'm a... student
And only a... first year
My eyes are... brown
And my hair is... brown
One could say... I'm on the short side, sort of scrawny - okay, really scrawny, but whatever. I have one tattoo, which is sort of stupid. It's a gang symbol, a script "SD" with a devil's tail - for Satan's Disciples. I've got a ton of scars, though: cigarette burn marks on my chest and arms, a stab wound scar in my side from getting stabbed in juvie, and then the bite marks on my neck.
I'm normally seen wearing... a worn-out leather jacket, a t-shirt, and ratty old jeans.
And I supposedly look like... Edward Furlong
All round, I'm... jaded to the extreme. I've been through a lot, and I'm tough as nails on the surface. I don't put up with much, and I'm quick to throw a punch. If something bad happens, I insist that I expected it. If I get upset about something, I wait until I'm alone to have an emotional reaction.
Around others, I may be confrontational and distant, but under the surface, I'm just a damaged kid. More things get to me than I would ever admit. I don't expect help from anyone - in fact, I expect people to hurt me. That's what they've always done.
I'm in love with... classic punk rock, cigarettes, fighting, poker, sexy cars
Though I detest... posers, snobs, cops, being told what to do, being cooped up
But my best assets are... my experience talking my way out of things, my skills stealing things, and my ability to go where other people won't.
However my worst... my short temper, my trust issues, and I sort of get freaked out PTSD-style if something reminds me of stuff I try not to remember.
And I dream of... to be honest? Nothing. Until I got bit, I was expecting to die in a couple of years. I have no idea what to do with myself now...
My life story... I was an 'oops' baby in a crappy hole of an apartment in NYC. My dad was a drunk, my mom was spineless, and by the time I was three, I was a glorified punching bag. When I was six, my first grade teacher finally wised up to the bruises and I was removed from my home and placed in foster care. Because the foster care system is totally not just as bad (/sarcasm). I was bounced from group home to foster home and back again more times than I could count. I was labeled a 'problem child' because of my short temper and problems with authority. You wanna know the problem I had with my authority figures? Half of them groped me while I was trying to sleep. So there's that.
When I was ten, I started running away from my foster homes. I would live on my own on the streets for a week or two before the cops found me and dumped me back into the system again. I spent more than a few bouts in Juvie. When I was thirteen, I ran away and managed to stay away. I fell in with a punk gang that dealt drugs. They used me for deals because I was young enough to hang out in parks without drawing suspicion. I got caught shorting them, though, and had to disappear pretty quickly. When I was fourteen, I started hustling just enough to get by: an occasional warm meal, sleeping in motels if I was sick, that sort of thing. It was around that time that I ended up at a free clinic, where they diagnosed me with HIV. I couldn't keep up with seeing doctors and I couldn't afford pills, so I guess it moved along pretty fast.
One night I was selling it at Hunt's Point and ran into trouble. I was in an alley with a john and he freaking bit me! Anyway, he was vamping it up on me, and I was pretty sure I was gonna die, which I wasn't too broken up about, honestly. But I guess diseased blood tastes nasty or something, because the guy never finished his meal, and some other vamp showed up to help him out. I woke up a week later in a crappy hole of an apartment, reborn as a vampire. As soon as I was well enough, they shipped me off to Northvale.
I was born to... Marion Howard, Nicholas Lark, fat lot of good they did me
My ooc name is... Joohlia[/color][/blockquote]
And I've been roleplaying... since the beginning of time.
The Secret Word is... PASSWORD ACCPETED
Here's a little sample...Funny, he'd spent most of his life practically nocturnal, keeping to the shadows, keeping out of sight. And now he actually had a reason to do it, and it seemed confining. Milo didn't like that he had to keep to the shadows. He wanted the choice. Of course, he hadn't had any choice in becoming a vamp.
The Gateway was alright. There was a good enough flow of customers that he could get lost in the crowd, which was good. He'd had to come in the back door because no way was he old enough to be in a bar. Then again, he'd look this old when he was twenty-one and when he was a hundred twenty-one. Talk about a change in life expectancy. A month ago, he'd had a few years, tops.
The blood packs they gave out at the school were creepy and tasted like plastic. He'd eaten one person back in the states, and it was freaking delicious in comparison. There was a fae sitting at the bar. She smelled glorious. Milo had been making eyes at her for the better part of half an hour, nursing a beer, a cigarette between his lips.
He's Level 5