Post by samuel uley on Nov 24, 2008 17:57:57 GMT -6
sam uley.
"i've never told a lie, and that makes me a liar. i never made a bet, but i gamble with desire. "
"i've never told a lie, and that makes me a liar. i never made a bet, but i gamble with desire. "
i'm just a face for every picture``
name • Ashley.
age • Fourteen.
contact • AIM, E-mail, OM, Alice’s account.
rp experience • A couple years.
member title • La Push Pack leader.
how you found us • Alice Cullen = me. Heh.
a smile for your scrapbooks``
full name • Samuel Uley.
nickname(s) • Sam.
age • Twenty.
birthday • February 13th.
grade • Out of school.
art •
cannon or original • Canon.
there's a ghost in this room``
height • 6’1.
weight • Around 130. Sam claims it’s all muscle, even though it’s still not much.
stature • Fairly muscular. On first glance, he looks a little on the toned side, but a few people think he’s too slender. When someone looks at him in his werewolf form, though, and notices how powerful he is, it’s obvious he’s muscular. It’s hard to tell Sam isn’t scrawny, because his muscles are distributed well. He’s a tall guy, after all, and he doesn’t obsess over his strength.
eyes • Dark hazel.
hair • Shaggy and untamed. His hair is golden brown, unlike his pitch black wolf self.
play by • Alex Gaskarth… xD. I thought I’d change it up a little.
other • Nah. He’s how I pictured Sam – but I guess it’s changeable.
to witness my first breakdown``
likes • To be understood. Sam’s interested always in helping others, and he hopes he does a good job of it. He likes relaxed people and relaxed atmospheres – making him happy that he has a mixture of personalities in his pack. Speaking of the Quileute wolves, Sam will admit he likes being the leader. Overall, Sam just enjoys making people feel comfortable, and that they have a place to go and complain. He doesn’t mind being the shoulder to cry on, or the ear to talk to. He’s easy to get along with once you know him, and he’s proud that people think he’s a reliable friend.
dislikes • His temper. In the past, in that situation with Emily, Sam wishes to do nothing more that take that back. He also feels horrible for what he did to Leah, so guilt is something he is most definitely not a fan of. He doesn’t like stressful situation more than the average person, because he knows it leads to bad things. Sam doesn’t particularly enjoy it when he’s accused of being a cult-leader. He dislikes people who judge others when they don’t know their background, and he also furiously hates being misunderstood, or underestimated.
habits • Uley’s known for his protective side. He’s very cautious as to who he trusts, and it’s not easy to win him over. This could be good, and bad. He’s a hard conscious to sway, and when he’s mulling something over, he can be very clingy with his closely friends. He’ll ask other people constantly for their opinions and their input. He believes in equity of voice, yet he usually lets people talk and walk over him, if it’s not pointed out. He’s also very self-conscious, and if he makes a mistake, he’ll apologize over and over until he himself fixes it, and repairs things to be better than they were before.
fears • A repetition of the past would be Sam’s worst fear. Originally, confrontation with the vampires would have taken the cake, but now he has no reason to be uncivil toward them. He’s just afraid to hurt those close to him – surprisingly, whether they’re human, Quileute, or vampire. He just doesn’t want to lose trust that he’s worked so hard to gain.
goals • Regulate vampire and werewolf connection. Sam’s idea is that if the vampires are willing to make the first move, he’ll be willing to go along with it accordingly, so long as he has back-up. He also wants to patch things up with Leah, so that things between he, Seth, and she won’t have so much tension.
overall personality •Sam’s a little bit of a relaxed, calm, cool, and collected guy. Or so he tries to be. He tends to try and keep himself leisurely and lazy when his time it’s allowed, which is surprising to most. However, Sam knows that if he lets too much stress – from the pack, the vampires, etc – get to him, he might snap again. Although it’s unlikely, it’s always in the back of his mind. Therefore, Sam like to be mellow, and his vibe usually rubs off on other people.
He’s easy-going, and thinks himself to be approachable by most. He’s friendly to those who open themselves up to him, and he’s very trustworthy. He doesn’t like to often keep secrets in his head, because he knows they’re available for mind-readers, (ahem), and other pack members to read. He keeps a book under his bed, which reveals the very rare childlike side of him, and stores other pack information in there – stories, legends, the treaty, etc. He’s caring, and shows interest in anyone who has an opinion. He believes everyone deserves a chance to get their thoughts out on the table, and he knows how to word constructive critism so it’s helpful, without being hurtful.
Sam rarely talks to anyone in a condescending manner – except sometimes he catches himself snapping off at, or about vampires. But he can’t really help that. It’s natural, right?
too much of you is never enough``
parents • Sam’s father was never around when he was a child. He doesn’t know much about him, and has never really seen him.
Not much is known about his mother. She’s friends with Billy Black and the other Quileute leaders, but she’s not around much either.
siblings • None… unless you count his pack brethren.
other important relatives • Emily Young is Sam’s fiancée. They’ve been together through a lot, and plan to marry in the spring. Sam imprinted on her, and now she’s known as ‘the wolf girl,’ and gets stuck cooking for the boys a lot of time.
pets •
history • Sam was going to be everything that his father had not. Sam’s potential to do well in high school was ruined when he suddenly turned irritable. When he suddenly turned werewolf, really. His relationship with Leah Clearwater, whom he had planned on spending the rest of his life with was foiled due to his secrete latter. He hid everything from Leah, and it made him suffer in every aspect of his life. Sam lost all of his friends, and eventually his love life. He couldn’t wait for the day he returned to normal.
However, that wouldn’t come soon. He realized that becoming a werewolf was a life-changing experience, and affected everybody. Although Sam had no one to help him through his first phasing, he learned that it made him stronger. He believes that this, in the long run, has made him more of a father figure – just without the children. He learned the stories from the old pack alpha, and just a few days after hearing the imprint story, he felt it shift.
He was visiting Leah, when one day, her cousin Emily was there. Instantly, he knew. They had to be together. Even though Sam lost his temper once, and accidentally maimed and ruined Emily’s once beautiful face, she still loves him. And that’s all he could ask for.
Now, Sam is the one to pass down the stories. He was the first one to phase, but now he helps others through it. Although he is not the alpha by blood, he takes responsibility because Jacob will not.
now I'm tangled in the sheets``
read the rules • DUH.
rp sample •
He went back to California.
Westin's sister was the only one in his family who knew about the double-problem. He felt ridiculous to fly all the way back there- just eight days after abandoning Frankie. He felt horrible throughout the duration of his stay. He took advantage of his sister's flat home- and spent the days sitting atop the roof lounging around. Pitiful way to spend your days, of course, but as the sun pounded mercilessly down onto him, he allowed himself closure.
It felt nice to have something warm again. The sun was his personal companion- forcing him to remember that you can always count on the sun to shine, no matter what.
And, with that new mentality, Westin left the California hillside-flat. He dabbled around in the clubs; not participating in conversation, but just getting used to that swell again. The temperature, the blood, the scent, the feeling....
He fought harder this time for control, as he had a reason to. The entire time Frankie was in the back of his mind. Her voice made his heartstrings tweak and his ragged self-broken heart thump in his chest.
He'd been gone for three weeks. He knew he liked it here. But he loved it in Wisconsin.
He had to go back. And so he did.
The first night he went back, he was intent on making an apology. He paraded straight to the dormitory- but after getting bombarded with questions from the females, he strayed off. He was no longer able to concentrate on the goal, and wasn't sure if he could resist her. He didn't understand why her blood call was any different. Maybe it was just Wisconsin?
He'd test it out.
He ventured to the club.... and just so happened to catch up with a friend whom he hadn't seen for double the duration time. He was unphysical. Only testing himself, and his temptation until he got used to the different call of the earthy Wisconsin aroma, rather than the beachy CA one.
Apparently it looked as if Westin had never left the Midwestern state, and had simply moved on with a human girl.
But that was far from the truth.
Franchesca Simmons was unfading from his mind, and he could wait no longer to see her. He pushed the feeling of guilt off himself, and focused on her feelings. He sat outside her dormitory door for a good three hours; feeling incredibly stupid, and wondering if this was the right idea. He wasn't in contact with her, so he was scarcely able to pick up her emotions. The only one he could feel was.... well. He couldn't tell.
His own emotions were such a wreck he couldn't focus on anything else. A single thought jumped through his impossibly tall body as he pulled the key from his pocket. He still had a key from when he had been staying with Frankie. That seemed like an eternity ago. Returning to that thought once again, his heart jumped and his cold body tensed with his hand around the doorknob.
She doesn't want to ever see your face again. You left her, and you treated her like she was a meal. Why would you even come back, Wes? He asked himself repetitively; a feeling of regret washing over him as he lightly pushed the door open; the Frankie-warmed air in the room hitting him with her fruity scent, along with waves of sound.
He stood there with an idiotically vacant expression on his features. He shut the door behind him as his honey-colored eyes stared at her; his back leaning against the closed door, hands at his sides nervously.
Despite the fact his newly grown-out, slightly sun-brightened //hair\\ veiled his face, he could see her. And then he could realize how much he had missed her. His eyes darted to the floor quickly; all feelings escaping his freshly-tanned body as numbness overtook.
"I'll leave if you want me to," He said shakily after a pause in the music; his normal earthy-colored eyes focused on emptiness. He didn't feel bold enough to look at her. He wasn't worthy of that yet. "B-...But I had to come back, Frankie. If you hate me, then I get it. I really do."
He had no idea what to say. He'd practiced this reunion over and over- but in his mind it all ended with a verbal slap to the face, or a door being slammed on him. So he would remain glued to the floor; his eyes doing the same.
Nervous wreck.
Westin's sister was the only one in his family who knew about the double-problem. He felt ridiculous to fly all the way back there- just eight days after abandoning Frankie. He felt horrible throughout the duration of his stay. He took advantage of his sister's flat home- and spent the days sitting atop the roof lounging around. Pitiful way to spend your days, of course, but as the sun pounded mercilessly down onto him, he allowed himself closure.
It felt nice to have something warm again. The sun was his personal companion- forcing him to remember that you can always count on the sun to shine, no matter what.
And, with that new mentality, Westin left the California hillside-flat. He dabbled around in the clubs; not participating in conversation, but just getting used to that swell again. The temperature, the blood, the scent, the feeling....
He fought harder this time for control, as he had a reason to. The entire time Frankie was in the back of his mind. Her voice made his heartstrings tweak and his ragged self-broken heart thump in his chest.
He'd been gone for three weeks. He knew he liked it here. But he loved it in Wisconsin.
He had to go back. And so he did.
The first night he went back, he was intent on making an apology. He paraded straight to the dormitory- but after getting bombarded with questions from the females, he strayed off. He was no longer able to concentrate on the goal, and wasn't sure if he could resist her. He didn't understand why her blood call was any different. Maybe it was just Wisconsin?
He'd test it out.
He ventured to the club.... and just so happened to catch up with a friend whom he hadn't seen for double the duration time. He was unphysical. Only testing himself, and his temptation until he got used to the different call of the earthy Wisconsin aroma, rather than the beachy CA one.
Apparently it looked as if Westin had never left the Midwestern state, and had simply moved on with a human girl.
But that was far from the truth.
Franchesca Simmons was unfading from his mind, and he could wait no longer to see her. He pushed the feeling of guilt off himself, and focused on her feelings. He sat outside her dormitory door for a good three hours; feeling incredibly stupid, and wondering if this was the right idea. He wasn't in contact with her, so he was scarcely able to pick up her emotions. The only one he could feel was.... well. He couldn't tell.
His own emotions were such a wreck he couldn't focus on anything else. A single thought jumped through his impossibly tall body as he pulled the key from his pocket. He still had a key from when he had been staying with Frankie. That seemed like an eternity ago. Returning to that thought once again, his heart jumped and his cold body tensed with his hand around the doorknob.
She doesn't want to ever see your face again. You left her, and you treated her like she was a meal. Why would you even come back, Wes? He asked himself repetitively; a feeling of regret washing over him as he lightly pushed the door open; the Frankie-warmed air in the room hitting him with her fruity scent, along with waves of sound.
He stood there with an idiotically vacant expression on his features. He shut the door behind him as his honey-colored eyes stared at her; his back leaning against the closed door, hands at his sides nervously.
Despite the fact his newly grown-out, slightly sun-brightened //hair\\ veiled his face, he could see her. And then he could realize how much he had missed her. His eyes darted to the floor quickly; all feelings escaping his freshly-tanned body as numbness overtook.
"I'll leave if you want me to," He said shakily after a pause in the music; his normal earthy-colored eyes focused on emptiness. He didn't feel bold enough to look at her. He wasn't worthy of that yet. "B-...But I had to come back, Frankie. If you hate me, then I get it. I really do."
He had no idea what to say. He'd practiced this reunion over and over- but in his mind it all ended with a verbal slap to the face, or a door being slammed on him. So he would remain glued to the floor; his eyes doing the same.
Nervous wreck.
this application was made with the blood, sweat and tears of white pages very own carliRAE.
headers are thanks to All Time Low because they are awesome.
do not remove this credit because if you do, bad things will happen,
starting with her hunting you down with her rabid flamingoes.
they will peck out your eyes. now that's not pleasent is it? so please, keep the credit on.
headers are thanks to All Time Low because they are awesome.
do not remove this credit because if you do, bad things will happen,
starting with her hunting you down with her rabid flamingoes.
they will peck out your eyes. now that's not pleasent is it? so please, keep the credit on.
