ALLEN, joshua micheal

[joshua micheal allen]

joshua micheal allen

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mask of deception;

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full name; Joshua Micheal Allen
nickname(s); Josh
age; Died at Seventeen
birthday; November Fourteenth
grade; Forever a Senior
species; Ghost previously a Witch
gender; Male
sexual orientation; Straight
canon or original; Canon

uncovering the truth;

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personality;
Sweet –
Josh loves to be loved, and to love. He’s fairly compassionate to everyone. Never judges too quickly. He cares, too much it would seem. He’s just nice because he knows he took life for granted when he had it before. And he doesn’t wish that upon anyone else. Josh wishes the best for everyone. Anyone he meets. And he rarely has an enemy. He likes to do things for people, though the list is limited. He knows he can’t give hugs, or a nice rub on the back. He can’t comfort in the way others can, but can assure them that he’ll always be there, to listen, give advice, or encourage. In anyway he can.

Depressed –
Though he’s pretty good at hiding it, Joshua is always depressed or sad. Melancholy, is more like it. His life used to be a myriad of color before the games. He hates what he’s subjected himself to, and therefore hates himself. And furthermore hates that he has to live with himself, for eternity. It sucks. In his mind. He feels he’s made the worse choice possible in becoming ‘this’. As he likes to call it.

Romantic –
Before he died Joshua loved to fill his world with women. Simply for the fact that they liked him. And he had no reason to not like them back. Everyone, in his mind, was beautiful. A treasure. Though he didn’t exactly treat them like gold. He liked to sleep around, and let me tell you he did do exactly that. Get around, that is. He wanted to ‘taste’, if that’s the proper wording, everyone. Like they were all out there for his own personal pleasure.

Now that he’s a…well, a ghost, he regrets his choices. He wishes he hadn’t taken them all for granted. He feels he should’ve chosen ‘the one’, looked for her. Treated her like she was the only woman in the world. And now he’s doomed to the life of the hopeless romantic. Forever searching, but never finding.

likes;
[music, though he can’t play it
[novels, though it takes much to read them
[he used to love writing
[his guitar, or at least, looking at it
[singing, he’s an amazing musician
[love, or the idea of it. he hasn’t had much hope for it since he died
[his seemingly ‘second chance’ at life, though it isn’t much
[class, he has plenty of time…to learn
[watching people eat, he can’t
[watching people sleep, he can’t
dislikes;
[nighttime, he can’t sleep
[meal times, he can’t eat
[all the things he can’t do
[sometimes, still being around
[he regrets his choice to become a ghost
[couples, he fears he’ll never have what others have
[weather: rain, snow, sunshine, the cold, the wind. he can’t feel any of it.
[clothing, it does nothing for him, but he accepts it as necessary
[being alone
[himself
fears;
[falling for someone he can’t have
[scaring someone
[going insane
habits;
[reaching for things
[trying to pick things up
[reaching for people
[tugging at his ‘hair’
flaws;
[too emotional, at times
[doesn’t give himself any credit, for anything
[too harsh on himself

time machine;

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parents; Delilah Maria Allen – Ninety – Witch
Andrew Joseph Allen – Deceased - Human
siblings; None
kids; None
pets; None
hometown; Tuscarora, Nevada
personal history;
“I do regret my life before my death.

I came to Forevermore like every other ‘soul’ here. I was already considered the damned. Or at least I considered myself one. I was a witch. Took everything for granted. Used my curse freely, used woman freely, used freely (drugs that is). I didn’t really have any respect for anything or anyone. Though I wasn’t completely aware of what I was doing until really…now. And I will forever remember what I did to myself and others. There is nothing that can change that. And I have to accept that I will feel guilty for eternity.

When an Execution squad member came to me telling me my number was up I wasn’t exactly thrilled. But I, being the ass that I was then, thought i’d go in and show them who’s boss. I thought I could outsmart, outfight, outrun, outwit any and all execution squad members. Boy was I wrong. Maybe one of the only things I am thankful for now is that I don’t have to deal with them, ever again.

The fight was quick. I went after getting high, which was another obvious mistake. Man, was I a fool. And the rest is sort of a blur. I remember only one showing up to fight and it really…wasn’t much of a fight. I woke up after being knocked unconscious, my shirt blood-stained and feeling like I’d had the wind knocked out of me.

And that’s when I made the foolish decision that I wanted to be a ghost. I wanted to stick around. Forever. Of course I had to be still lagging a bit of the drug. And my mind wasn’t working properly. I can’t imagine anyone making that decision when they weren’t facing death. It seems like a terrible decision to make. But at the time, I just knew one thing: I didn’t want to die. And this seemed like the best choice.

So here I am. I could leave the school, it wouldn’t really make a difference. You hear of all those ghost stories, I could just be another blur in a photo. But I like it here. Believe it or not, I love learning. Heck, I got all the time in the world to get it right. Why not spend it here?"
(sorry this really, really sucks)

mirror, mirrror;

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hair; Brown
eyes; A deep brown
weight; Really he’s weightless…being a ghost and all. But before death he was around one hundred and forty pounds.
height; Five foot nine inches
tattoos; None
piercings; None
anything else; He has a scar on his chest, from the games.
play by/face claim; Brendon Urie

underneath the mask;

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your name; Manda
age; Seventeen
other characters; Lillian Marie Sharpe
where did you find us? Searching
secret word; || admin edit ||
rp sample;
Lillie had to admit, lying there, on the grass, in the middle of the field. It was quite liberating. No one came out here. Ever. During school hours. That was one of the things she considered a ‘perk’ to this place. In fact, not many people visited the well-kept slightly outdated fields…it seemed…ever. They just seemed abandoned. The white paint outlining the specific ‘boundaries’ for a soccer field surrounded her on all sides. IN the middle of white circle she was. On the grass, slightly wet. In the morning. During school hours.
Couldn’t get much better than that?

Yeah, the grass was wet from what had been left behind of the night. And bugs were probably now finding their way into every little crevasse in her clothing and path in her hair. But all lilie could do was lay there. And breath. And inhale. And smile. Eyes closed. Cigarette held loosely between two fingers, heart rate at a steady pace. She was the perfect picture of serenity. And she felt it.

Too much had happened lately. Just recently, in fact. What had compelled her mother to take such drastic and ridiculous measures was beyond her. Many things Lillian’s mother chose to do made no sense anyway. But this had taken the cake. And Lillie was convinced that he mother had simply pulled out a map and pointed somewhere. And there, whatever poor, god-forsaken city she had chosen, was the place she send her off to. Like mail through UPS or the American postal service. She was just an object. An excess. A burden.

And it was best that her mother saw her off. Forever.

But the moment Lillie had arrived she knew something was different. People looked at her different. They all had something…different, in their eyes. Something inhuman. She had to be in the wrong place. She told herself that for days and days after arriving. Something was wrong here. Everyone else knew something that she didn’t. But four days and a three or four packs of cigarettes later and she still couldn’t put her finger on it.

So she came here. Escaped form the students. And even the teachers. They too seemed to be hiding some club-like secret.

Oh well.

Lillie brought her cigarette once more to her lips, cherishing the infectious feeling the thing gave her. Like she was now covered head to two in some skin-disease that she didn’t really want to get rid of. And that was ok. A bell rang in the distance and she didn’t pay heed. Let them go on. Let life continue. She’d rather lay here and slowly smoke herself to death than try and be apart of that mess.
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[remy elizabeth carter]

A C C E P T E D ![/size]

don't forget to make your claims!