Deryck Wentz

[Deryck Wentz]

The Application.

[/u][/b]

Name: Sammie
Age: 17
Contact:

msn: [e-mail]
aim: SammieCSI

How long have you been rping?

A long time.

About Your Character::[/u]

Full Name: Deryck Wentz
Nick Names: Derry, Bass, Deedee
Family:

Father: Pete Wentz
Mother: Ashlee Simpson
Brother: ----- Wentz, 19

Sex: Male
Age: 17
Birthday: 25.06
Year in school: Junior
Financial: Stinking rich.

Weigh; build: 130 pounds
Eye colour: Brown
Hair colour: Brown
Over All appearance: Deryck is MARRIED to his hoodies. He would rather spend a day hoodie shopping with his dad than hang about with other people. He takes a lot of care over his appearance; he is on his third pair of hair straightness and has a habit of borrowing his mother’s eyeliner. Oh did we forget the shoes? He owns around twenty pairs of converse. In fact your lucky to see him in the same pair two days in a row.

Likes:

~ Drinking
~ Girls.
~ Fooling around.
~ Having a ‘good time’
~ Cocaine
~ Pot
~ Vodka
~ Music
~ Bass guitar
~ Live Music.
~ The Cure
~ The Sex Pistols.
~ Sid Vicious.
~ Pizza
~ Pissing people off
~ Philosophy
~ Discussions.


Dislikes:

~ Idiots
~ Ignorance
~ Racists
~ Class clowns
~ Know it alls
~ Ginger beer
~ Alcopops
~ Caramel
~ Pop Music
~ His mothers music
~ Blondes
~ Scene kids
~ The cold
~ The colour green.

Hobbies:

~ Reading
~ Playing bass
~ Making fun of people he doesn’t like.
~ Collecting LPs
~ Listing to music
~ Shopping
~ Drinking
~ Taking drugs
~ Partying

Personality


Deryck is a womaniser, he likes women, he likes them in every shape and form. He’s likes to reel them in then push them away and break their hearts. Deep down he can be quite cruel really. He didn’t see a heart as a fragile thing, in fact he finds the girls he ends up with rather hilarious that they can be so stupid to trust someone - though the name “Wentz” might help with that little front. He is volatile and can turn violent if provoked. If anyone gets in his way he is not afraid to smack them down and tell them where to get off at. Same can go for anyone who gets in the way of his friends. Derycks friends are precious too him, he treasures them and would bend over back wards. Anyone who messes with them messes with Deryck, he might not look it but he can throw a good punch of you annoy him enough.

When it comes to people he is good with them, he doesn’t mind being in a big room with loads of people but he is constantly thinking on how the hell to get out of there. He hates people who follow trends, who like bands just because they want to be part of a scene, just because they want to be part of something. Deryck has never really had a hard time fitting in anywhere, he can make friends wherever he goes though Deryck isn’t really that trust worthy of other people. Just because you’re his friend doesn’t mean he will trust you, there are very few he talks to about his personal life.

He doesn’t get on that well with his family. His constant partying and somewhat absent presence in the house creates friction and arguments in the house – not that he’s there to hear them anyway. Deryck was close to his father until he hit around fourteen and discovered alcohol, parties and girls. His father being straight edge meant that Deryck didn’t want to tell him what he got up to, started becoming more secretive and of course learning the art of sneaking out his bedroom window. Sometimes he wonders if his family know what he gets up to – then he remembers the number of times he’s been dumped on his front porch most (by Ira usually.)


History:

Deryck Jake Wentz was born in LA to two very delighted parents. He didn’t really have that many hardships while growing up and was constantly exposed to music of every kind. He has fond memories of sitting in studios and meeting with his father when he was young and winding up there after school. He always had that cheeky troublesome streak in him, he was a hyper active kid, always son the go making it very hard for his dad to keep up with him.

For his fifth birthday his father bought him a bass guitar and he took to it like a duck to water and eleven years later he’s still hammering away at the thing – though of course he playing in his own band now instead of just with his dad. Deryck loves his band and the people in it. He loves his music and its no wonder really – its in the blood. There is nothing more he likes than going on stage and singing his heart out while hammering his bass and seeing how high he can climb up before jumping off. Though saying that he’s already broken his ankle and chipped a tooth though his on stage antics but it’s not like his dad can tell him to be careful…it’s not like he would listen to anyone.

When he was ten his dad took him to one of his friends sons birthday parties. There he met Ira. Since then they’ve been joined at the hip, they play in a band together, they drink together and they cause more trouble than people think possible, be it from throwing cake around the room, to chaos on stage, playing mailbox baseball or reversing all the street signs in the neighbourhood all they generally do is cause trouble and there pretty good at not getting caught too.


Sample Rp

She had been sitting beside the window for a while now, watching the snow fall gracefully to earth as if Gods hand was the one sprinkling it over the surface, providing the people below with a thick layer of the white, cold, pure frozen water that provided so many with childish delight and wonder. The snow was really piling up now and more was forecast for the week ahead. Back home they never had now like this; Scotland was a strange country; theoretically it should really have a climate akin to Moscow, however somehow it didn’t. It was kept warm by the Gulf and Jet Streams that brought warm air and water up from Southern America. Any snow, if they got any at all, fell on the north eastern side of the country where the cold weather blew down from Scandinavia in the winter.

Here it was different, very different. The snow fell thick and fast, weather turning from crystal clear blue skies to a raging snow tempest that would drown anything in its way with its soft cold ghostly touch that could send shivers down even the most hardy of men’s spines.

She wasn’t a huge fan of the winter. It was too cold, too plain and too colourless. It was as if something had suddenly arrived and before you knew it ‘blam’ someone had stripped away, all the colour from everything around you. The trees leaves had fallen long ago now, they had been green and born pink cherry blossom flowers in the spring, those flower petals too had rained down, falling gracefully to earth like the snow, except they had covered the ground in a pink carpet.

Snow was just white.

Pure.

She reached forward her hand warm skin connecting with the harsh glass. She could feel the icy cold air outside filter though the glass to her fingers. The air around her hand clung to the glass – condensing to form a thin haze of ever so tiny water droplets. A gentle sigh escaped her lips as she let herself slide down the wall of the alcove, her head coming to rest on that ice cold window to the world outside.

Peeling away her hand she looked at what was left behind, a perfect hand print on clear glass. Then ever so slowly it began to disappear. The air took back the water vapour which the glass had clamed, the mark shrinking away from the world, until there was nothing left.

In the end she guessed there never was anything left. Every time she let something happen like this – a piece of her disappear, faded away with who ever it was, stolen from her like candy from a child and she let it slip away all too easily. She just didn’t battle hard enough.

It wasn’t all that long ago when he had swept in to her life like a destructive whirlwind disguised behind a sheet of unblemished rain. Sitting in the library that day she had never expected any of this to happen, she had been sitting there in her corner, alone – like most days. After all she was a foreigner, not just any foreigner mind you, she was the unknown step child of Yamoto Fujiro, a Japanese lawyer. She had not earned her place here with in these regal walls like everyone else. No. They had worked hard to get her, battled though exam after exam to even get a change sit the entrance examination. What had she done? Nothing. Absolutely nothing, she hadn’t even sat her high school exams, she was a flunk out. Her step father’s large wallet had managed to buy her a place at the university. His money may have bought her a place here amongst the countries elite but it meant nothing here. You can’t buy status
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