Post by omari harakhty badru on Jun 8, 2011 14:12:01 GMT -5
[/quote]OMARI HARAKHTY BADRU
They call me Mr. Knowitall. I am so eloquent.
Perfection is my middle name.
And whatever… rhymes with eloquent.
| B A S I C S |
Name Omari Harakhty Badru
Nicknames Mari
PB Avan Jogia
Age 20
Sex Male
Year Junior
Major/Concentration Film/Filmmaking
Minor
Occupation
Organizations Directors of Tomorrow Club, Film Club, Swim Club
Location New York, New York| P E R S O N A L I T Y |
Omari is awesome
Strengths: He's luvable
Funny
Spontaneous
Weaknesses: He's a diq.
He's a womanizer
Immature
Double standards
| H I S T O R Y |
The Badrus immigrated from Egypt a year after their first son, Ebo was born. They settled into New York and started to expand their family. Omari was born five years later and is the fourth son of the Badru family. A year after his birth his only sister Acenath was born.
Being the babies of the family, Omari and Acenath grew up very close.| A P P E A R A N C E |
He is hawt.
| S K I L L S |
It was just one of those days. One of those tired days. She had been stressed out all week because of a plethora of small things. But wasn’t that just it? Didn’t all those small things just keep adding up until there’s this huge big nameless thing sucking all of the energy out of you? Yesterday she went out shooting and when she went home to her darkroom (Uncle Joe had converted the basement for her), Alchemy realized that somehow she had messed up all her film. She had the wrong amount of exposure or perhaps she somehow mishandled the film. She wasn’t sure and it didn’t really matter since she was already way too frustrated at that point.
And to make matters even worse, when she finally managed to go to sleep, the stress had weakened her control. All night she was pulled into other people’s dreams. Or well, they started as dreams but quickly turned into nightmares. She couldn’t really identify the people dreaming, though she knew it wasn’t Joe or her brother Paki. And it wasn’t any of the close neighbors either. But that was probably for the better. She didn’t need to know who was having night terrors. It wasn’t any of her business. All it meant was that this morning she woke up haunted, irritated, and with insane dark circles under her eyes.
The minute she stumbled into the kitchen for a good old fashion breakfast of Pop tarts, everyone knew she was in a dark mood. The boys of the house made sure to not make any sudden movements. Which, of course, only served to frustrated and upset her even further. Grabbing her handy breakfast, her camera case and her side bag, she stormed out of the house.
Not really sure where to go, she wondered around the town for a little bit. It was a Saturday and still relatively early in the morning so there weren’t many people about except a few joggers and the mailman. Feeling claustrophobic in the small town, she circled back to the old Victorian home she shared with family and commandeered her uncle’s pickup truck. He wouldn’t be missing it. And even if he did, he would never say anything to her about it.
Pulling out of the drive away, she rolled the windows down and started to head out of town. At first, Alchemy wasn’t really sure where she wanted to go. She could head to the mountains, maybe head to Story Land. No, that was the last thing she needed: being around a whole bunch of people. And besides, it was too far away. She thought about going on the trails, or seeking out a waterfall, but turned down those ideas as well.
As she was cruising around the countryside, she approached the Stone Hill Cemetery. Her grandparents, who she never met, were buried here. So were most of her ancestors. Very few people ever came out here, and the cemetery was so large that it didn’t really matter anyway. All she had to do was head towards the oldest part and she was almost guaranteed to stay away from people. Maybe she might be able to take a nap out here, once she calmed down enough. She wasn’t likely to fall into someone’s dreams. Unless the dead dreamt.
Once she entered the oldest section, the place where the founders of Cornish were buried, she parked the truck on the side of the road. Stretching out on all sides were ancient looking tombstones and mausoleums. Some of the tombstones were so worn and neglected that she could barely make out the inscriptions. Yes, this was the perfect place.
Climbing into the back of the pickup truck, Alchemy lay down and started to stare at the sky.
| P L A Y E R |
Name cyd
Age 20
Gender bender
How you found us greta loves me
Who else do you play? everyone[/blockquote][/size]
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