Post by SEBASTIAN SMYTHE on Feb 17, 2012 22:54:41 GMT -6
SEBASTIAN AIDAN SMYTHE
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you're the boy who murdered love, cold hands and a heart of stone. you're a midas in reverse, you're the king of pain and hurt.[/center]
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ONE GENERATIONS LENGTH AWAY
from finding life out on my own
from finding life out on my own
AGE: Seventeen
BIRTH DATE: April 26th
SEXUALITY: Pansexual, but predominantly homosexual
ETHNICITY: Caucasian
PLAY BY: Grant Gustin
YEAR/GROUP: Junior
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STOP THIS TRAIN,
I want to get off and go home again
I want to get off and go home again
1. confident, verging on arrogant: Sebastian grew up striving for perfection and, for the most part, easily acquiring such perfection. It never helped his ego that his parents, when they were around, as well as the people constantly around him made it a point to gloat about him and/or tell him how great and skilled he was. It's with that mindset that he now appears incredibly cocky in front of his peers despite deeming himself as confident. He doesn't think he's cocky because he believes cocky people are overcompensating for what they lack, and from Sebastian's point of view, he doesn't think he lacks much. At least, not in terms of anything important. He is simply confident in his skills, his assets, and knows fully well of what he is and isn't capable of. He isn't the type to drawl on and on about how he's amazing at X, Y, and Z if he doesn't truly believe that he is. Which is why, for the most part, his confidence is very much warranted. You won't find him boasting about how great he is at knitting or about how he's the all brawn because, well, he isn't.
2. manipulative: He wants what he wants and in his mind, he gets what he wants. If he has to use a little manipulation to do so, he's completely fine with that. Any means to achieve the ends. The art of manipulation had been mastered at a young age, as was necessary for him. Given the fact that his parents hadn't always been around, he was forced to manipulate the people around him to answer to his beck and call. Things that his parents should have done for him because he was their son were pushed onto people who, in all honesty, shouldn't have really cared for him at all. And so, it's been his method since he was a young child and he hasn't managed to kick the habit yet. Sometimes, it happens unconsciously, while other times, he's fully aware of his motives and the potential outcomes that might occur.
3. ambitious: Sebastian has many goals and while, yes, he's commonly known for using his money to get his way, etc. he does have a lot of drive and determination going for him. He strives to be the best (when it comes to things he legitimately cares about) and won't stand for coming in second place. He's got a truckload of goals and aspirations, all of which he focuses heavily on. In the future, he wants to become a lawyer rather than do anything related to music (as a career, at least), because things pertaining to the performing arts had never been of upmost importance to him. Regardless, upon joining the Warblers, he has fully dedicated his time and energy to improve the group as a whole because that's just the kind of guy he is. The methods he uses may not always be moral or ethical, but but you can't say he isn't a driven and ambitious guy.
4. straightforward: Sebastian is a thorough guy. You won't find him beating around the bush for long periods of time or spreading white lies to make his friends feel better about themselves. Rather, he'll tell you how it is - and whether you like it or not. That being said, he does have friends and he seriously isn't so incredibly heartless as to hurt any of the people close to him for his own amusement. He'll tease them, sure, but he wouldn't dream of seriously damaging any of the relationships he has conjured up with the people closest to him. But...if you need an honest answer, he's the best person to go to. Sebastian also doesn't think twice before flirting with people and/or giving out compliments when he thinks it's necessary. Had it not been for the fact that he's a tad bit manipulative, Sebastian would have surely been considered as having little to no filter. Thankfully, he's a charming boy who knows when exactly to tone down the douchy aspects of his personality.
5. impulsive: Sebastian rarely dwells on any of his faults or shortcomings, but one thing constantly haunts him and threatens to screw up his life. He's impulsive and while, yes, he's typically good at being charming and using that aspect of his personality to his benefit, he's known for making mistakes simply because he doesn't think things through all the time. It isn't even because he's temperamental or anything, as he's actually a rather laid back and chill guy. Instead, sometimes he's simply blinded by his ambition and desires that he acts without thinking about the potential repercussions of his actions. It's his one true downfall, in his opinion, and tends to find himself in positions that aren't ideal.
HISTORY:
In was ingrained in Sebastian's mind from an early age on that he was better than everyone else. And for the most part, it was true. He was always richer, taller, hotter, and just all around better than anyone he had ever come across. But for what he lacked in humility, he made up for with sheer talent and ability. And so, with this mindset, his ego continued to grow exponentially. It grew so large that it became even difficult for him to fathom the thought of coming across someone who would completely knock him out of his shoes.
His parents weren't around as often as he would have liked, but as a child, one who was often easily swayed and satisfied, the disappointment he had garnered over the years always quickly dissipated at the sight of a new present. For a short time, of course. That disappointment would continue to linger in the back of his mind till this day. Sebastian was kept busy, however, as he had a full schedule filled with various lessons, extracurricular activities, and the like. This made his parents' absence a tad bit more bearable, which had been exactly their intention. After all, it wasn't as if they could seriously take a day or two off from work to go show their son some warmth or companionship, right? Why, no, of course not. They were professionals and they had better things to do than linger at home and play with their son.
Thankfully, he hadn't grown up bitter. Well, he technically had, but Sebastian grew to become quite the effective represser. And so, the fact that he constantly yearned for his parents' presence and approval was locked away in the back of his mind to hopefully never bother him again. He's been successfully doing that for years now.
Before moving to Ohio, he had lived in Paris with his mother. With his father back in Ohio setting up a law firm partnership (that would soon fall through), Sebastian and his mother did what they did best. Separately, of course. He had anticipated amazing things - cultured men and women, beautiful works of art and scenery, and some much needed quality time with his mother. Hah, well, that hadn't happened. Instead, his mother did all of those things… just not with him. Rather, she spent the majority of her time with girl friends and the like.
So Sebastian Smythe did what Sebastian Smythe did best. He partied, he screwed, and he lived. Upon forming somewhat of a niche in Paris, the news that he would be once again forced to move dawned upon him. He had expected New York City, Milan, or someplace… eventful, but no. After only six months in Paris, he was forced to move to Ohio and live with his father, who had gotten a better offer as a states attorney. Joy. The prospect of living in some hick town with only so many occupants, all of whom strangely knew each other, was not appealing at all. Rather, Sebastian would've preferred cancer. Seriously. Cancer.
Unfortunately, he didn't really have the means or masochistic attitude to infect himself with such a horrible disease, so he decided to make the best out of a terrible situation. Upon arriving to Dalton Academy, Sebastian had once again set out to find his niche. Which proved relatively easy as the Warblers welcomed him with open arms (which was all rather adorable, in his honest opinion), and the lacrosse team was happy to have another player join the Varsity team.
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I CAN'T TAKE THE
speed it's moving in
speed it's moving in
FATHER: Jonathan Smythe, forty-four.
SIBLINGS: n/a.
OTHER IMPORTANT PEOPLE: n/a
ORIGIN: New York City, NY and more recently Paris, France.
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I KNOW I CAN'T, BUT
honestly, won't someone stop this train?
honestly, won't someone stop this train?
AGE: twenty.
EXPERIENCE: 3 years.
OTHER CHARACTERS: n/a.
WRITING SAMPLE: at least 200 words, please!
okay, so maybe the fact that he was now a werewolf was getting to his head. perhaps he deemed himself invincible in ways he probably shouldn't have. no one could really fault him for thinking himself invincible and stronger than others because, well, because he was. despite his lean frame, underneath his slightly tanned skin was muscle. all muscle. there was no doubt that he could overpower even the strongest of wizards. unfortunately, he had forgotten to take one tiny, minuscule thing into account. magic. fucking magic. now, he was adept at charms, more than fully capable at handling himself when it came to dueling, and amounted to more than just a pretty face. regardless, an inebriated quel was an incompetent quel. his fists had been far too tightly clenched, his punches had been sloppy, lacking any and all accuracy, and his legs hadn't offered much support. so, instead of knocking out the man who had called him a pretty boy (typically the remark was received with a shrug or a smirk, but drunk quel had deemed the comment as malicious and thus had reacted by picking up a fight), he wound up getting his ass kicked instead. and had he been a little more aware of what the hell was happening around him, he would have undoubtedly been embarrassed out of his mind. thankfully, ignorance is bliss. aside from his aching cheek, split lip, and bruised shoulder, quel couldn't really comprehend what was happening around him. the fight had ended a few minutes ago and everyone who had gone outside to watch the fight had gone back inside into the warm bar, probably to nurse a firewhiskey and talk about how quel had just gotten his ass handed to him.
he didn't really care, thankfully. in his drunken stupor, quel found himself laughing at the fact that his bottom was sore. the fight had ended with him on the cement, his body almost sprawled out in an indecent manner, but he had mustered up the energy to sit up and effectively ruin the back of his pants. not that he cared; rather, the werewolf wanted nothing more than to head back into the bar, ask for another firewhiskey, potentially start another fight, and knock out, only to wake up the next morning in his bed with his brother looming overhead, his eyes rolling. it wasn't often that he got this drunk, but it had happened enough times in the past for his brother to know that if he wasn't home by 3 o'clock in the morning, he should probably expect an owl from the barkeep, asking him to pick up quel. he supposed that wouldn't happen this time, given the fact that he was outside of the bar and not inside. thus... who would contact his brother and get him to apparate to his location? would he freeze to death outside and be forced to piss on himself like one of those disgusting bums in knockturn alley? the prospect of that wasn't appealing at all, but quel wouldn't very well make it home himself. shifting his legs a bit in a futile attempt at sitting indian style, they suddenly became tangled to the point where he wound up lying on his side, his cheek smashed against the cold cement. "heh... heh... hahaha." what better way to fight your problems than by laughing them off?
he didn't really care, thankfully. in his drunken stupor, quel found himself laughing at the fact that his bottom was sore. the fight had ended with him on the cement, his body almost sprawled out in an indecent manner, but he had mustered up the energy to sit up and effectively ruin the back of his pants. not that he cared; rather, the werewolf wanted nothing more than to head back into the bar, ask for another firewhiskey, potentially start another fight, and knock out, only to wake up the next morning in his bed with his brother looming overhead, his eyes rolling. it wasn't often that he got this drunk, but it had happened enough times in the past for his brother to know that if he wasn't home by 3 o'clock in the morning, he should probably expect an owl from the barkeep, asking him to pick up quel. he supposed that wouldn't happen this time, given the fact that he was outside of the bar and not inside. thus... who would contact his brother and get him to apparate to his location? would he freeze to death outside and be forced to piss on himself like one of those disgusting bums in knockturn alley? the prospect of that wasn't appealing at all, but quel wouldn't very well make it home himself. shifting his legs a bit in a futile attempt at sitting indian style, they suddenly became tangled to the point where he wound up lying on his side, his cheek smashed against the cold cement. "heh... heh... hahaha." what better way to fight your problems than by laughing them off?
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application template credit
to samantha rae of caution 2.0.
lyrics credit to the john mayer.
please don't steal!
application template credit
to samantha rae of caution 2.0.
lyrics credit to the john mayer.
please don't steal!
