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 | Shiftless, vagrant eyes. Tousled hair, long and dark. Scarred hands, arms, chest. Scarred heart, mind, body. This was an apt description. Long limbs propelled the man forth, invisible fingers gripping at him, pulling him back. Somewhere in his mind, a voice screamed at him that this place was wrong. Somewhere else, a voice screamed at him to "forget that other voice. He's just jealous." He glanced around, gaze staying nowhere and going everywhere. These people could not be trusted. Hands were thrust into pockets, shoulders slouching to give an apathetic, closed-in look. It was almost impossible to do, his six-foot-two frame took on the appearance of an ogre rather than a man hidden inside himself. The clothes were rather cheap, the shoes had already been cast off in favor of bare feet. There was nothing to remind him of his past life except a single, solitary newspaper clipping. Maybe he could start over. But he knew it was a lie. The first voice returned. "You can never escape your past, Braedon. You know it. Why go on?" He had learned to push that one away, but sometimes it was impossible to ignore the low, deep voice. It sometimes took on the characteristics of his father's tone. Maybe that was why it always stayed with him. And there were more. Legal Name: Braedon Nathaniel Calliar Birthdays Survived: Three less than a score. Inches to Fall: 74 Place I'm Escaping: USP Marion, Marion, Illinois, USA In My Mind: A jumble of things. In The Past: Things to be forgotten. In My Head: Cass Contact Her At: soccerchica124x1@cox.net, ZoniJumpr39 [AIM] She Already Plays: Trevor, Mikaela, Jak And Used To Play: Savannah She says to "just think unicorns" and all that other crazy stuff. |