CAMPBELL, russel isaiah

[russel]

RUSSEL ISAIAH CAMPBELL

FULL NAME: russel isaiah campbell.
NICKNAMES: russ, izzy, campbell.
AGE: twenty.
PREFERENCE: heterosexual.
HOMETOWN: new york city, new york.
CLASS STATUS: middle class.
CURRENT STATUS: single.
MEMBER GROUP: college.
PLAY BY: tristan wilds.

FAVORITE FOOD?
i've got a soft spot for italian food - spaghetti is bomb, don't judge me.

ARE YOU A VIRGIN?
...is there a right answer to this? no? no, i don't mean no as an answer, look at these dimples! ... okay, calm down. the answer's no.

FAVORITE COLOR?
oh, i like all colors... that's not what you meant? oh, well, then, blue, i guess.

HAVE YOU EVER EMBARRASSED YOURSELF?
all day, every day!

FAVORITE DRINK?
are we talking of the alcoholic kind or...?

WHERE DO YOU SEE YOURSELF IN FIVE YEARS?
with you, sweetheart. doing research, not just taking classes, but actually working outside with marine life.

FAVORITE HOLIDAY?
christmas, i dig the familial ties.

WHAT'S ONE THING MOST PEOPLE DON'T KNOW ABOUT YOU?
my major, i guess - most people don't take me seriously, which is okay, most of the time.

DO YOU PREFER THE NIGHT OR THE DAY?
any time of day, your way. err, morning. i like mornings, weirdly enough.

NAME A FANTASY?
hey, uh, let's not go there. unless, of course, you're so inclined... what was your name again?

<sup>It was cold, he didn’t need the thermometer located inside the third pocket of his backpack to tell him that; the breeze that had picked up and furthermore ruffled flyaway strands of deep brown proved it, as did the shuddering of his frame as Troy Sterling shoved his hands deep inside the pockets of his hoodie. Scuffed shoes stepped cautiously, slowly, across the gravel and tended grass, every so often whipping wide eyes around in a mixture of awe and fear. The wind that whistled through his ears taunted his adrenaline rush, making misconceptions of the surrounding other noises and sounds. But it was, after all, ten minutes before midnight in a seemingly empty graveyard: Troy vehemently told himself he had the right to be a tad disturbed. The rumors and whispers, after all, were as old as the graveyard itself, and a glance skyward towards the moon’s position made the hairs on his neck stand; it wouldn’t be long now until he’d prove his hypothesis correct. With no interfering kids, at that, he mused, selecting a weeknight when teens were usually doing homework instead of fooling around as they would be on weekends. Then again, when Troy was a teenager, he had done his schoolwork on weekends as well, but that may have spoken more about him than the tendencies of adolescents; twenty one years old and a college student, things hadn’t changed.

“Almost,”</sup>

[/color] he whispered quietly to himself, sounding assured as he rubbed his eyes cautiously as not to agitate his contact lenses. His semester project was based around the possibility of apparitions, or ‘footprints’, of the deceased left behind; oftentimes, he concluded, when one had unfinished business or anxieties of those they had left in the living world, they would leave a form of themselves. These restless parts of spirit, Troy had written in his journal, would continue to linger these shallow forms of self until reconciliation and assurance was given, then properly sent to the ‘great beyond.’ It was a stretch, a difficult subject, but if he succeeded, had actual evidence that was beyond circumstantial or fabricated like others had brought up before his time, he would make history. Science and spiritual entities, supporting each other in valid testing.[/color] It was a challenge, one that Troy had taken upon himself to master. He adjusted the strap of his backpack over one shoulder, standing mid-field among the various headstones, marked by recent visitors with the different hues of flower petals on passed names. Whether the entity he would hopefully encounter received visitors every day or every year, or never at all, it didn’t matter; the existence of a passed living being existing in the world, did. Child, teen, the elderly – if they spoke, if any of the recording or analyzing equipment he held would catch them and serve as supporting factors, it would prove remarkable. And worth it.

With a jolt and a strange flop in his stomach, Troy scanned the moon’s location in the eerily dark sky again: it was time, it had been time for five minutes now. He zipped his backpack open and took out what resembled a black pen, slightly thicker than one, and held it to his mouth. “ Twelve oh five, midnight, Tuesday, October thirteenth of the current year…” [/color]Troy rattled on quickly and precisely, as if memorized, continuing to dart his eyes around as he carried on, “... I have not yet found trace of an apparition, but my hopes lay high. According to my research, and analyzing large-scale newspapers’ obituaries of the past years, Washington’s cemetery is in ideal grounds for this experiment, and….”[/color] At the end of his introductory recording, he clicked the device’s edge once and set to his sides, clasping it with a clammy hand; this was it, this was what the past two months of poring over books would prove. And those who had doubted, they would hang their heads in acknowledgment to his success,the success: if a faint form of a living person was found after deceasing, could there be a way to restore such life to full process? To actually obtain a fountain of youth? So many questions, but first, he’d have to settle the groundwork.
[/sup][/center]

hey, it's jamie! and this gal has been at it for
five years now. they are seventeen years old.

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[ALEXUS MAE DASCHEL]

* - - ACCEPTED .

hello and thank you for joining meet me halfway! you're almost ready to start roleplaying. basically, fill out ALL the sign ups, and you'll be golden. have fun!

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