O'BRIEN, oliver

[oliver o'brien]

OLIVER O'BRIEN

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Full Name: Oliver O'Brien
Nicknames: Ollie
Gender: male
Age && Birth Date: 21st August
Member Group: High school senior
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Grade: Senior
Occupation:Unemployed
Play-by:luke pasqualino

loves: Rain, winter, summer, the beach, girls, music, being clean, debating, art, history, classical studies, old movies, dubstep, drum and bass, skating, getting high.
despises: Arrogance, vanity, people that complain, tomatoes, pumpkin, drama, people that get too clingy,
goal(s) for the future: Do something extraordinary, get a girlfriend, get a job, do some art courses, finish school.
fear(s): Not living up to the standards set for him, ending up alone.
the overall:Oliver, at a glance, is a positive and friendly guy. He always has the brightest smile plastered across his face. It's hard not to smile when a lot of things amuses him. Another reason is because he is just a very optimistic guy-- to the point that it can be a mild annoyance. People often find it easy to open up to him, mostly because he listens very well, but also because he doesn't talk much about his own problems. He would rather just keep on smiling, and pretend that everything is just fine.

Oliver has his own set of justice. He treats people the way he thinks they should be treated. Usually, with kindness and respect, but you'd be surprised at what can come out of his mouth. Oliver is also as hard as a rock. It is very hard to change the way he views the world, people, and himself. He has a very strong opinion about just anything. He's been taught from a young age to stand his ground.

Though while normal, he is a gentleman of the arts. He is a womanizer by trade, and will go after many girls. As well with the laziness robbed of him, he is an extremely hard-worker and very persistent in his goals. Though there is a definite fear in everything he does, and that is of failure. For Oliver fears failing more than anything, to the point of obsessing.

mother: Abby. 40. Journalist.
father: Carl. Deceased
siblings: Holly.Three. Preschooler.
pets: N/A
the overall history: Ollie was born on the twenty first of August, to his mother Abby and father Carl. They lived in London, along with his grandparents and uncle. At the time of his birth Cal was an only child, he found it very boring having no siblings to fight with. Cal's father was always away working and his mother spent most of her time with research and writing for a small newspaper,It was Ollie's grandparents that took care of him during the day time,

When Ollie was seven years old his grandfather passed away, it broke his mother's heart and he made a promise then that he would always try his hardest to take care of the people he loved. Olliel was changed to boarding school, he never really fit in with the kids at the normal institute. He was interested in art and English, he spent most of his time reading or drawing. As he got older his work matured, it became quite a passion.

During his fourth year Christmas break Ollie went home, surprised to find his mother heavily pregnant and glowing. He was overjoyed at the thought of a brother or sister, his family seemed truly happy. It was time for the ancient tradition, a boys night out. His father and him had been doing this since Ollie was just four, he suspected it was to make up for the time his father was not home. Carl took Ollie to a football game, he had never been happier. He had felt so proud to be standing next to his father. They had cheered together and screamed insults at the ref, Carl had only asked that he not repeat some of the things to his mother. Ollie had grinned and nodded. After the game they stopped off at a hot dog stand and taken a walk, it was quiet and Ollie a took this opportunity to explain the past four years of his life to his Dad.

Ollie hadn't noticed anything but his father had stopped, and placed a hand on his shoulder. He looked once at Ollie and pushed him up to the wall, down beside some crates. His father had pressed a finger to his lips and told him to stay hidden, then he walked off. That was the last time he saw his father. The flashes, the thud, both were etched into his memory.

Ollie had spent a few extra weeks with his mother and Grandmother, they grieved together. He wasn't able to function right, he couldn't think of anything but that night. The police had asked him to describe exactly what had happened, All he could manage were stone cold facts, he tried not to think about it. He talked to his mother, pleading to stay home with them and not to go back to school, but she insisted. He went back a different person. Ollie started getting into trouble at school, defacing school property, pulling pranks and answering back. His teachers let it slide, but three years on he hadn't changed his ways. So his mother pulled him out of school, it turned out she had gotten a job in America at an up and coming paper. The family packed up and left, it was heart breaking to leave their home. His mother insisted it was what they needed, a fresh start.

your alias: Bee is good
how you found us: Caution 2.0 !
time zone: I live in Australasia
other characters: Zoe Bishop
how we can contact you: PM
rp sample:First person RP.
I am fading. But we all eventually fade, don’t we? We rot. Die. Whatever word makes it easier. But dying is human, it's easy. I am unable to understand reason. My sense of time, and my judgement have left me, Unguarded and vulnerable. I would sit in the wicker chair by the roses. The sun would beat down, the flowers would wilt in the torridness and Mother would busy herself with them. She loved those flowers. I would cry out in jealousy and my words, fizzing and tipped with poison would accuse her. I am able to see now I was wrong, I was terrified she had already started to forget me. I am not hopeful, hope is a nonsensical word. I do not expect to be remembered, I don't ask for anything. I do not pray, I do not hope. Hope, is nothing. The nights would be cool, I escaped during the night; In the summer I would lie in the silence, frail body balanced carefully on the planks laid across the creek. I would lie, eyes set on the same star, every night the same star. The brightest, the boldest. Sometimes, the huge weight of everything would settle over my chest. I became angry. I remember the office, the hair of the specialist reflected in the glass behind him. His pale face, warm and bright in contrast to my own. The never ending apprehension filling the room made my hands quiver. One two three four five six seven. Breathe.

My mother looks at me, her face unreadable. My father waits for me, the patience and wisdom I remember is still etched into the face I have missed. Oh, how much I've missed that face.
If I reach out far enough, reach out into the depths of my mind I can feel the edge. I curl my fingertips over it, I am being propelled forward. I am still not able to grasp the meaning of nothing. In autumn, I would walk, through the town. My bare feet embraced the rough gravel that led down the hill. The bustle of the villagers would keep me sane, normal. I would sit for hours, watching people pass me by. The first time I cried it was a Sunday. A family of four tottered past, dressed in their best. The mother was plump and soft, in her arms she held a small bundle. A baby of only one or two, she stared at me, she stared at me with unfair grace and beauty. I cried for three hours under the Pine tree, the one that stood taller than any man, this tree was familiar, a beacon of stability. My father planted this tree, on the night I was born. Sixteen years ago. It was funny to think that this tree, my tree, would live longer than I would.
One two three four five six seven. Breathe.

I didn't know what to expect. I had tried to understand death many nights, as I lay looking up at the sky. I would try and decode the stars, I was sure they were trying to tell me something. I was always trying to understand things, making sense was a hobby of mine.

One two three four five six seven. Breathe.

It's strange the way things turn out. The people tragedy affects. I still don't understand death, or the rules, if there are any, but it is close for me now. Mother sits and cries, she brought flowers. I smile at them, like an old friend, my dislike for them having long been forgotten. Panic settles over me, and I am suddenly compelled to scream. It comes out like a whisper. Death builds character, it is an experience one must go through alone. How you handle it is up to you. I am greeted by sympathetic smiles whenever a nurse meets my eyes. I want so badly to rewind time, I don't feel complete yet, this isn't fair! I can't be forced to leave this world yet, I just can't! I feel alive as the hot tears drip silently down my face. My voice is lost in a sea of noise. Mother. Mother. I cannot leave her, I cannot leave her alone. I never believed that a single moment of immaculate clarity could exist. My eyes were wide open, and I saw. I saw, finally I saw. Go. Go. Go. I held my place. I gazed at my mother, her face as beautiful as ever. It was clear to me then, that she would be ok. She would manage eventually, I wanted her to be ok. I needed her to be ok. My throat grew tight, I need to breathe. Smile mother. Please smile. And she did. Eyes closed. Flicker. Flicker.

Fireflies swim infront of my eyes.

I am spinning.

One..two..three..four..five.

Breathe.

One..two..three.

One..two..

Breathe..

all graphics go to allie of times we're abandoning, please don't claim this as your own! <3 the lyrics go to avril lavigne from her song fall to pieces .