EVANS, maddox elijah

[eli]

maddox elijah evans

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in your final hour, when you are looking back
you'll find that i'm the best at what i do and that's a fact

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[/b] maddox elijah evans.
age;; 24.
gender;; male.
band you are affiliated with;; alpha bravo charlie.
position in band;; guitarist.
sexuality;; pansexual.
play-by;; ryan ross.
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[/b] if there was ever such a thing as a quiet rebel and it was in the dictionary, you would likely find a picture of eli next to the definition. by no means is he the loudest guy around, and he likes it that way. he prefers to keep to himself for the most part, normally only speaking when he's spoken to or when he has a quip to fit in somewhere in the conversation, which is a lot of the time. he can occasionally be talkative, but most of the time, his mouth stays shut, even during interviews. while he feels as if he owes every single alpha bravo charlie fan, he's not even the friendliest towards them, though he'll smile along, sign autographs, and talk about the music like he loves every second of it, even if he'd rather be elsewhere, reading a book or something of the sort.

that's not to say that eli is a serious person, though. he actually hates to be serious (though his sense of humor is a little strange, if you don't know him), and prefers to avoid it most of the time. this can sometimes make interviews difficult, but he usually doesn't launch into bullshitting his answers until he gets bored, or if he doesn't feel like answering, at which point he'll say just about whatever comes to mind, whether it really relates to what's going on or not. also tying into the misconception of "because he's quiet, he must be...", eli is also not a pushover. if someone says or does something he doesn't like, he'll make it known. though he won't normally be so violent about it, he does have his moments where all he wants is to punch the offender until they're just a pulp of a person... well, so long as it's not a girl. eli doesn't hit girls. it's just a major n-o.

painfully honest is probably the best possible phrase to describe how he goes about with truth, at least when it comes to other people. eli is perfectly content to tell lies about himself, let them circulate, and even, on occasion, to spur them on. if you ask him what his opinion on someone else is, though, he'll give you his honest opinion, whether it be, "yeah, sure, he seems like a good guy" or, "no, he's a pain in the ass". the only time he beats around the bush is when he's nervous or trying to avoid something, but he normally does so in such a clever way that most don't really figure out that he hasn't technically answered the question... save those very persistent and very nosy reporters.

likes;;

dislikes;;

quirks and habits;;

strengths;;

weaknesses;;

fears;;

goals;;

history;; eli never liked being an only child. his parents never really even wanted one kid, thiough, let alone more than one, so he was stuck being the only one. his father, remington, or remy for short, proposed to his mother when he found out that she was pregnant, despite the two not exactly being in love. their child together was the result of a mess involving alcohol, confused feelings, and a bed. their marriage was a result of their child; they never really asked for any of it, but they both took the events in stride, never complaining too much, never whining, but never really working out any problems that might have occurred, either. and occur they did - remy never really grew up, and even after he was married, after his only son was born, he was still in that obnoxious stage where he drank alcohol because he felt like it. at first, he just didn't come home until the next morning, when he was slightly more sober, but the more it happened, he starting coming home earlier. eli's mother, bianca, discovered that her husband was not the type of drunk that was funny to be around. instead, he hurt her, and she took it in silence - remy had a job that paid good money, money she needed to care for her son, whom she loved despite having not wanted him at first.

things didn't get any better. the first time eli was targeted as well as bianca, he was eight. he'd asked her how long he should heat his dinner up, and remy hit him in the jaw for interrupting the show on tv he'd been watching. he'd hit him again when eli cried, disregarding his wife's desperate cries for him to stop. he never did. for a year, things of the same nature occurred, and remy's attention was slowly sapped from bianca to her son. she hardly ever got hurt anymore, but eli paid for it. at some point, he stopped crying from the pain - he still doesn't. his mind registers it, but he doesn't really react to it the way some people might. even when his father began experimenting with the lighter on his back, the young boy didn't cry. he still has the burns, and he thinks of them of a way to remind himself that he should watch his back, be careful of who he trusts.

some time after eli turned nine years old, bianca filed for the divorce papers and told her only child to pack his things - they were going away for a while. away from his father. they were going some place better, she said, somewhere where eli wouldn't be hurt anymore. remy never actually signed the papers, but that didn't stop her from taking her son and heading back to where she'd been born. she and eli moved in with her parents, the grandparents that eli had never met, never known about. they were simply overjoyed to have their daughter and their grandson back with them, and things were so much better for both of them, maybe even all four of them.

something like that can't happen without some kind of effect, though, so it shouldn't have been such a surprise that eli was very easy to sway when it came to things like peer pressure. most years, he hadn't had friends because of his father being drunk whenever possible, and not exactly being gentle with eli when he was. if one of his friends saw that, who knew how things would end? so he went the first ten years of his life without any friends. he told himself that it was okay - he didn't need friends anyways. but after the move, after he'd figured out the whole secret of trying to make friends, he did make some. and as the years went on, he made more. some of those more, eventually, were some that were the "wrong crowd". these kids were every parent's worst nightmare, and eli was part of them. they're the reason he started snorting coke, started drinking, started partying way more than was healthy. he was gone all the time, and his grandparents did not approve in the slightest, causing eli to slowly grow farther away from them.

to this day, he's not one hundred percent sure what it was that made him leave those friends behind. they were the same as they always were. eli supposes he must have wanted a change, and maybe that's what made him meet the future members of alpha bravo charlie. or maybe it was just chance. eli just doesn't know. what he does know is that he's doing something he loves with some of his closest friends. he's still not off the cocaine. he still drinks. but now he's got something more to live for, something more than his mother - never mind that she was always enough for him to stick around. for now, he's going to make her proud, and he's going to do so by doing something he loves: playing his music.
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[/b] callie.
age;; sixteeeeen!
what makes the world go 'round?;; ;D admin'd
roleplay sample;;

Standing in the doorway actually probably wasn't doing much good. It might have if he was a bigger guy, but with how thin he was? Yeah, so not going to help. Instead, Emery stepped out of the doorway and shut the door behind him, running a hand through his hair briefly before starting towards the garage. The sooner he could erase that encounter from his mind, the better. As he walked, he waved a bit towards Avery's dad. They'd worked out an agreement so that the lessons would last about two hours, they'd be on Saturdays, and he would be compensated for it all at the end. At first, he'd felt bad about taking the money, but hey, when you wanted to learn an instrument and you wanted another person to teach you, that was how it worked, right? Besides, Emery was even not charging him very much. He'd said ten bucks for each lesson should satisfy him. It was true. He didn't want much money - mainly this was even for his own benefit. Avery got to learn an instrument and, with any luck, some charisma, and, in turn, he would hopefully gain a band member.

Still somewhat mortified, he kept his eyes on the ground as they walked to the garage. It certainly wasn't an aspect most people ever learned about him, and definitely not virtual strangers. Emery supposed, in a way, though, he was already sort of "coming out of the closet" by inviting her to his house instead of Ryder's. There weren't many people that had seen the trailer-like house he lived in. It wasn't like he boasted about it. He had to give Avery some props, though. She didn't seem at all repelled or disgusted by the shack he called a house. When he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, though, she looked close to tears, or scared, or... something that wasn't good. His eyes went wide in shock and he returned his gaze to straight ahead, trying to think of something to say. Would it be impolite if he asked why she was upset? Did he even want to? What if she cried even more? He was horrible with crying girls, had no idea how to handle them. Maybe the tears would go away if he left it alone. ... Yeah, he'd just try that.

When they finally reached the garage, he opened the door for her so she could go in, barely catching her "I'm sorry" as he did so. He arched an eyebrow at her curiously, then shot her a grin. "For what? It's not your fault that my house smells like a brewery." It was just easier to make light of the situation... as usual. It also wasn't her fault that she hadn't come to the garage right away. He must have neglected to mention that tidbit, for some reason or another. More than likely, he was just a little excited about finding someone else that was into music and it had slipped his mind. It also might have been the fact that he'd teach her. He'd worked as a tutor once, if you could call explaining the prior day's algebra lesson to one of his classmates that had missed it once being a tutor. Somehow, he had a feeling teaching someone how to play an instrument would be a little different. He'd had instrument books, Youtube videos for some of his instruments. The violin, he'd actually had a tutor for - his mother had been set on him being a famous classical music player or something like that. Now she didn't care, but Emery still wanted to be a musician. It felt like the music was just... part of him. Like it was in his blood.

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