HART, ezra

[ezra hart]

ezrafuckinghart

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testing, testing, one two three. alright, here we go.
i'm savvilicious but i guess you might've already
known that little bit. or maybe not, who knows. i've been
roleplaying for about eighty thousand years. more or less.
so yeah, i'm a pretty sweet jesus. i also own fletchwhore
you can reach me through PM & AIM so yeah. have a good day!

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tonight we lie awake, remember how the coffee made us shake

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( T H E B A S I C S )

( F U L L N A M E )[/color] ezra hart. no middle name.
( N I C K N A M E )[/color] ezzy, ez, ezza.
( A G E )[/color] eighteen.
( B I R T H D A Y )[/color] april nineteenth.
( G R A D E )[/color] senior, mothafucka!
( S E X U A L O R I E N T A T I O N )[/color] pan-sex-you-all.
( J O B )[/color] sexy beast. bartender.
( M A J O R )[/color] music, baby.

i've got your picture, i'm coming with you, dear maria count me in

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( A P P E A R A N C E )

( H A I R )[/color] original color is black. always spiked up. dyes the tips red, or, sometimes, the entire thing bright red.
( E Y E CO L O R )[/color] extremely light blue. barely passes for blue.
( H E I G H T )[/color] six foot three inches.
( W E I G H T )[/b][/color] hundred sixty-three.
( T A T T O O S )[/color] the roman numeral XVII on the back of his neck, the word "live" above his collarbone.
( P I E R C I N G S )[/color] a shitload. three in his left, four in his right, plugs, tongue, snakebites, eyebrow. doesn't wear them all the time.
( C L O T H I N G S T Y L E )[/color] rock-esque. not as scene as everyone else. more like i don't give a shit what you think of me, and i don't have to tell you what i wear. lots of red and black.
( F A C E C L A I M )[/color] jeremy von monroe.

manage me, i'm a mess, turn a page, i'm a book half unread

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( P E R S O N A L I T Y )

( L I K E S )[/color]

» fireee.
» smoking. usually to piss people off.
» kicking ass.
» playing guitar & singing.
» POPCORN.
» being the center of attention.
» LOUD music.
» seeeeeeeeeeeex.
» seeeeeeeeeeeeexxxxxxx.
» vodka, vodka, vodka.
» bartending.
» finding useless (but interesting) crap to buy.
» tacos. yum.
» in case you missed it the first two times, SEX.
» the models.

( D I S L I K E S )[/b][/color]

» ambulances.
» lower classmen.
» disney movies.
» stuffed animals.
» dinosaurs.
» also, Blair. But she doesn’t exist here.
» Blair again, because even though she doesn’t exist here, she’s a bitch.
» the drama kids.
» the dancers.
» white.
» confinement.
» dust.
» people touching his eyes.
» bugs. major ew.
» water.
» pasta.

( S T R E N G T H S )[/color]

» ...strength.
» playing guitar.
» keeping the attention on him.
» charming the shit out of people.
» annoying the shit out of people.
» can make a mean drink.

( W E A K N E S S E S )[/b][/color]

» cracks a bit easier under peer pressure.
» water.
» can't swim.
» idiocy.
» strippers.
» popcorn.
» being a douche.

( H O B B I E S / H A B I T S )[/color]

» talks in his sleep.
» flirts with EVERYONE.
» seems to be his goal in life to make people feel awkward.
» and to beat the shit out of everyone. it’s fun.
» writes new lyrics on his arms.

( F E A R S )[/color]

» water. near-death due to drowning at an early age does that.
» mini-fish. serious as hell.
» commitment.
» showing up to his wedding, where everything is peachy keen, and having his bride turn into the burger king guy. fo srs, it’s frightening.

( S E C R E T S )[/color]

» cut his father when he was five.
» almost drowned by father.
» thought about going into theater for the attention, but didn't make it.

( O V E R A L L )[/color]

BACK OFF ?! Ezra gets aggravated (really, really) easily. That’s the first thing you need to know about him (other than the fact that he’s the biggest slut you’ll ever meet). If you really piss him off, you’ll know it—I mean, other than the fact that your face will be shoved into a brick wall and your arm twisted behind your back, the fire behind his eyes is impossible to miss. The one thing that is an easy way to getting your ass kicked is talking about his mother (and not the whole “yo momma” shit. Seriously, that’s lame). He curses a lot, but not because he’s pissed off at the world; it’s more out of habit than anger.

INSTINCTS ?! Honestly, you could come up with fifty different examples of how bad it would be to go down the path that says Massacre Canyon, but no—if a friend says that it’s a safe route to go, it’s a safe route to go. There’s no changing his mind. Ezra tends to follow his instinct rather than looking at a situation logically, which may or may not be a good thing (situations always seem to turn out for the better, though).

ATTENTION ?! Ezra basically does whatever he can to grab the attention of This section has been taken over by Ezra. (; That’s right. I’m writing. Now, as you’re lingering on my every word, I’d like to tell you that whoever this bitch is who thinks she knows me is wrong. Wrongwrongwrong. I am NOT an attention whore. I just think that the world should know every single amazing aspect of *me*. Now let me go finish texting you guys these secksynekkid pictures.

GUTSY ?! The kids either has a whole lot of guts, or he’s just plain stupid (highly debated issue). He’s never backed out on something because he was afraid or because he thought it was a bad idea. Not sure if that’s courage or severe lack of common sense. If you’ve known Ezra for more than five minutes, you’d say it’s a good mix of both, but definitely leaning more to the stupidity side of the story.

NEW ?! Really, why stick to what you know when there’s so much more out there? Learning new tricks, skills, shortcuts (hell, anything) to Ezra Hart is far more interesting than dwelling on old things. Besides, if you’ve already perfected or mastered an art, why not move on to another subject? He vowed to learn something new every day, whether it be how far he could climb up the tree at the edge of the forest or what the new guy’s phone number is.

BETRAYAL ?! He can’t help it, but one way or another he usually ends up hurting those near him. There used to be times where he tried to intervene, but there always seemed to be that one asshole that screwed everything up. Eventually he gave into it, the thrill that he got when he crushed a heart (metaphorically, though literally it was kind of fun, too) in his fingers. It was like leading someone up a roller coaster, the intensity he put into his work—only when they fell, it was painfully slow. Kind of like torture. Fun.

WHORE ?! ...Well that pretty much says it all. After seeing things such as break-ups and fights between parents, he’s afraid of falling in love. What he’s certainly not afraid of is having sex with any gorgeous passerby (or hot, reasonable, mildly-okay-looking, or—fuck. Any living person will do, really). One-night stands are all he can handle, really, and when he wants someone, he’ll get them—no matter what their sexual preference is (long and, frankly, entertaining story).

SPONTANEOUS ?! ...Shit, where did Ezra go? One minute he’s in the dining hall, picking on one of the freshmen for the stupid thing they just said about musicians, and the next he’s in town, texting someone about the latest party. The actions he makes are always on a whim. He enjoys “winging it” and generally living in the moment; he finds that if you do what you feel, and you say what you think, you’ll get much more out of life. Impulses are his life. So, if you have something to tell him, better hurry up and get it out. No telling where he’s going with that mind of his.

leaning now into the breeze, remembering sunday he falls to his knees.

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( H I S T O R Y )

( M O M )[/color] alessandra. thirty-four. hooker.
( D A D )[/b][/color] michael. forty-six. lawyer.
( S I S T E R S )[/b][/color] casey / tia. fifteen. student.
( B R O T H E R S )[/b][/color] none.
( P E T S )[/b][/color] nada.
( O V E R A L L )[/b][/color]

Alessandra Davie hadn’t planned on becoming a hooker. It was that damned Robbie Lewis, she told herself. He made her go down that path. He started her need for cigarettes, he was the cause of her ceasing education, he stole the money she saved for college, and he was the one who caused her to go to bars all night and drink her sorrow away. He, in her mind, was how she met Michael Hart. Michael Hart hadn’t exactly planned on being a father, either. He had too much to risk: the perfect job, the perfect wife, the perfect family—the perfect life. But Alessandra Davie was too much to ignore.

Ezra’s name came from the bartender that had served their first round. Alessandra would have named him Michael had she any inclination to remember him, which she certainly didn’t, and she wasn’t particularly one for names, so Ezra it was. Then again, Alessandra didn’t really care either way. She spent most of her son’s childhood drinking, smoking, and bringing home new boyfriends every week. Often times Ezra would find himself face to face with his math teacher in the morning. By the time he was twelve years old, his mother had dated the entire male faculty at his old school.

One of the worst things about the day of his birth was that Alessandra refused to let him know when his birthday was, as if it was some sort of sick pleasure that he wasn’t allowed to have. He’d try to ask questions aimed at finding out around which time he was born. Of course, his mother would frequently change her answers and lie as often as possible. As he was home-schooled for most of his life, he had no one at a regular school to perhaps help him find his date of birth (or perhaps he was too lazy to really look for it). He sticks to April nineteenth, his mother’s birthday.

One day in his five year-old life, when he was eating goldfish in the kitchen, he heard loud yelling coming from upstairs. Curse words flew threw the air, and what sounded like pieces of furniture were also thrown. A man came downstairs, unknown to Ezra at the time—his father. Michael Hart had come back for another fling with Alessandra. Ezra, crying as Michael came into the kitchen beating his mother, closed his eyes, reached out, and flung the nearest thing he could reach at the strange man.

Michael Hart was stabbed seven times in his leg from the knives that were thrown. Still bleeding, he dragged the sobbing boy upstairs and attempted to drown him. Thankfully Alessandra, who revealed an unholy strength that occurs when you mess with a hooker, managed to get Michael out of her apartment (took a good fifteen or sixteen minutes, though). They didn’t hear much of him again. Fearing for her child’s health, Alessandra shipped him for a few weeks to Evangeline’s home.

Evangeline was Alessandra’s old and rather frightening mother. She marched around and barked orders, had a habit of telling it to you straight, and held rule in her house with an iron fist. She also held a great interest in plants and took joy in gardening and spending her time outside. She was not a woman to be messed with, but she was the kindest old bitch …mother… that you would ever meet. Ezra spent most of his afternoons painstakingly helping her in the vast yard. The yard must have been the most expensive thing he’d ever seen in his life. It seemed to stretch on forever, and the flowers that curled up around every twist and turn were of various colors and shapes. The caretaker of this garden was his uncle, Jasper Davie.

Jasper had initially been hired as a way to lift his spirits from the recent death of his wife. If there was anything that could save him, Evangeline reasoned, it would be hard work and the comfort of a family. Jasper moved into the guest house at the far side of the garden and vowed to keep it beautiful as long as he lived. Like Ezra cared. He was six years old and only wanted to play with real toys and real children, not the fake ones that Jasper created for him out of yarn and wood. He’d never had a real friend, and at this point in his life, it didn’t seem like he was going to get one.

He moved back into the apartment when he was eight. By this time Alessandra had another child: Casey. She had abandoned Casey, leaving her on the step of a home of what seemed to be a wealthy family. They moved within four months, seeing as they needed a larger apartment space for the baby. Ezra discovered he had a sister by the photo that Alessandra kept under her dresser, in the box full of old, private matters that she didn’t want to deal with. He had gotten the information out of his mother, threatening her with a violent death. He didn’t particularly care for his mother—or, he didn’t want to; part of him did love her. Ezra moved out of the apartment again when he was fifteen, seeking refuge at an auto shop, and later club (working as a bartender), in downtown Philly.

Casey, now known as Tia, is one of his biggest fans.

So, he was basically at a lack for parental figures in his life—well, if you didn’t count Tyler. Tyler, a nineteen year-old who worked at one of the local record stores, gave him the best advice of his life: see who gets it in the end.

( T H E W O R D )[/b][/color] i read the rules. >
( S A M P L E P O S T )[/b][/color]

Ezra said "Fuck trees Im on a boat motherfucker" Mary-Sue saw him and fell in love with him he was so hot. He saw her too she was so pretty and smart and nice he knew right away he loevd her and wonted to kiss her so he did.

And then they got married.

On a boat.

you were fake, i was great--nothing personal

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( C R E D I T S )

this lovely application was made by omgWOLF?!
of caution 2.0! steal and die, bitch. keep this credit here
at all times. alert me if it runs away. it might do that. have fun!
oh, and by the way, the lyrics are credit to all time low. they're awesome.

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[omgWOLF?!]

``ACCEPTED!

......wow xDDD