Mikey Summers, Lovely Gifted Mortal

[Mikey Summers]

[+] BEHIND THE CHARACTER

<sub>Name/Nickname;; Louise/Lou/Louz/whatever yaz wanna call meh.
Age;; 16!

How did you find KOTS?;; Found it 'cuz mah Lune gave meh teh link. D'urrrrrh. -rolls eyes- Besides, this will be my...fourth app. XD</sub>

[+] THE CHARACTER

Name;; Michael James Summers
Title;; ----
Nickname/s;; Mikey

Age;; 28
Race;; Gifted Mortal

Side;; Neutral
Place of Residence;; Earth
Level;; ----

Occupation;; N/A; He is currently trying to open his dad's old restaurant back up, though, and he likes to write.

Weapon of Choice;; Whatever he can get his hands on. XD

[+] PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

<sub>Celeb;; Gerard Way
Physical Description;; His eyes are probably the two most beautiful things on him. They are a pretty hazel colour, going great with his pale complexion and long, dark hair. His hair is a pitch black colour, having been dye'd twice and cut extremely short once during a rebellion phase. He does go outside, but he does not tan easily, so he is usually pale, no matter what, it seems.

He wears clothes that are sort-of a mixture of the way his parents dressed. He likes to wear layers, like his mother, but the majority of his clothing taste he got from his father. He likes to wear dark clothes, and can usually be found wearing a black-and-red striped tie, a new and favourite possession he had recently purchased.

His make-up resembles how his mother used to wear hers, consisting of a lot of eye-liner and eye-shadow. He also gets his mother's height, and now that he is older and had lost a bit of weight, he seems to be in better weight condition than he used to in the past. He currently has no piercings nor tattoos, and he personally does not want any, but will get one if he is effectively persuaded to do so.

Hair color;; Black
Eye color;; Hazel

Height;; 6'0
Weight;; 162 lbs</sub>

[+] PERSONALITY

Personality Description;; It can easily be said that Mikey had changed a lot from childhood to adulthood. When he was younger, he was always hyperactive and loved to play. He loved little things, from making snow angels and snowball fights to playing video games and chasing his dad around the house with their stuffed animals. Not to mention how many times he helped wrap presents, even if he did fall asleep after an hour or so.

Now, however, Mikey hardly even smiles. When he came home the day after the fire, he was completely devastated. Since then, he never really talked a lot, and things that he used to enjoy doing, he completely stopped taking interest in them. When it snowed, he stayed inside and would sleep or work on writing. He never touched a video game again, and whenever he saw a stuffed animal, he would cringe and run away.

When it comes to him being "gifted", he completely denies it. He actually has never seen a ghost or spirit or anything, but he has sensed them, making him grow a little fearful and avoid all the feelings; they always reminded him of his dead parents.

Since the fire, Mikey has suffered from two anxiety disorders: Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) and Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder (OCD). From his PTSD, Mikey hardly ever gets sleep, always seeing his parents sleeping helplessly in the house fire. He also avoids the subject of their deaths, and since he has not come to terms with it, he does not take medication for it. The same with his OCD; he is not planning on getting it treated. With that, he simply has this huge urge to fix things if they are out of place or sitting the wrong way. Whenever he sees a candle, he instantly tries to get rid of it. Whenever he sees fire, he cries and cowers.

Likes;;
<3 His family
<3 Food, especially chocolate and ice cream
<3 Things that remind him of his mother and father
<3 Writing out how he feels
<3 Animals
<3 Being around his uncle, whom is his only living relative left
<3 Music he can relate to; mainly alternative, and the occasional scream-o

Dislike;;
</3 Not being able to act like he used to
</3 Picky eaters
</3 Fire
</3 Not being home
</3 Anything that he thinks is a death risk
</3 Candles
</3 His OCD and PTSD

Skills;; Writing
Weaknesses;; The memory of his deceased parents or anything that reminds him of them and/or the incident; food; his anxiety disorders; not ever wanting to talk about his past

Hopes;; To live a good life so he can be with his parents in Heaven
Fears;; That he will ultimately disgrace and/or disappoint his parents, even though they are no longer living

Goals;; To start up his father's old restaurant and return it to its former glory

[+] BACKGROUND

Parents;; Kayden Summers (deceased) and Dee Hunter-Summers (deceased)
Siblings;; None
Other Family Members;; Jax Daniels - uncle

Date of Death;; ----
Cause of Death;; ----
Perpetrator/s;; ----

Past Incarnation/s;; ----

History;; Michael James Summers was born on May 24th, 1979 to Dee and Kayden Summers. At first, the house the three lived in was very small and had hardly anything, and once Jax had left, Mikey got his room. He immediately had a great bond with his parents, doing little things for them like drawing little stick figures and such. He always ate well -- but he consumed a lot of food.

When he was about five or so, Kayden had used the money he had gotten from his restaurant's success and bought the small family a new house. It was rather large, with about four floors, a pool outside, and a tree house in the backyard where Mikey spent a lot of his time when he was not inside with his parents or swimming.

He easily made friends and was spoiled to death by his parents. Of course, he would get angry, and when that happened, he would occasionally break something, or lock himself up in his room or something. He never actually yelled at his parents, but that quickly changed. When he was about sixteen or so, Mikey had told his father of the fact that he was, well, gay. Kayden did not approve of that obviously, and so that was the first heated arguement the two had had. Mikey ended up running away, and, in the spur of his rebellious stage, he cut his hair short and dye'd it white-blond. He returned home after a couple of days, and there was another arguement. Mikey soon dye'd his hair back and let it grow back, and has not dye'd nor severely cut it since, except to make it dark again occasionally, when it faded.

After a couple more years, Mikey had gone to spend the night at a friend's house, and that was when the fire incident had happened. The next day, when he got back home, he saw the remaining fire trucks and even his uncle was there. Mikey had practically gone insane, but Jax soon managed to calm him down and explained to him what had happened. Pissed off and unsure about what to do, Mikey left, driving off with no idea where he was going.

He ended up buying a new house, a small, cozy one, where he stayed for a couple more years. He never returned to his old house, buying himself new clothes and everything. He tried to work, but was always depressed and could barely make it through the day. He also would not eat a lot, if he ate anything at all, for a long while. When that did not work out, he began to write, which is how that hobby came about. He would occasionally go visit Jax, but only so he would not be alone. He always felt like he was alone, though.

Now that he is a little better, Mikey is beginning to make plans on restoring his father's old restaurant to its former glory and perhaps even returning to the house. He has enough money to repair what had been damaged, but he is not sure if he is mentally capable of doing all of this. Even though he would rather write, he is determined to do his best to bring the restaurant back in Kayden's and Dee's memories.

[+] ANYTHING ELSE

Sample RP;; (You should know by now what this sample rp is, haha.)

Yay, it was Monday morning. That meant school. That meant having to deal with other people she highly disliked. That meant another day without talking and just ignoring people. That just meant another day; another boring-packed day. Well, until she came home, but she did not have to worry about that yet.

Scowling, Bella stumbled out of her bed, nearly falling at one point. She finally made it into the small bathroom that was connected to her room, and she closed the door behind herself, her hands going in front of her as she searched for the sink. She soon found it and she felt for the faucet, turning the water on and cupping her hands underneath the cool liquid. She then lifted her hands up to her face and splashed the water all over it, her eyes still closed since she had not opened them yet. However, when she finally did, she looked straight in front of her, into the mirror. What she saw was a huge blurry figure, supposedly herself, her misty gray eyes wavering slightly and her pale eyelids slightly narrowed over them, her pitch black hair tied back into a braid with stray strands in her face.

Reaching behind her, Bella began to take out her braid, looking downwards to the counter, staying silent as she began to think to herself. She had gotten a new schedule the last week at school, giving her new classes, and she found herself still not comfortable with the change. She was not very fond of change, since she normally did not have to deal with it. Her family had always been the same; she had always lived in this house, in this city, in this state; nothing really changed.

Once her hair was down, Bella ran her fingers through it before she reached over, grabbing her contact case. She opened it and began putting the black contacts in, covering up her beautiful natural eyes, enabling her to see much better. When she finally had them in, she blinked a couple times, shaking her head and looking at herself in the mirror. Now the image was much clearer. Her straight, shoulder-blade length hair covered up the fresh bruise on her neck, and she was thankful for that, even though she felt as if she could still see it. The thought of it made her eyes narrow in anger. Her skin was pale, contrasting with her contacts and hair, and soon enough, her outfit and make-up. She was what people normally called “gothic”, even though she had no idea how they got that. She was not into the whole “heavy metal” thing; she barely knew any bands. She loved music, true, but she was not allowed the privilege to explore many things, including music. She wrote herself, though, so it was not so bad.

Running her skinny fingers through her hair one last time, Bella turned around and limped back to her bedroom, over to the dresser by her bed. She grabbed some clothes, throwing them on her bed before she began to change. When she got rid of her layers, it was very easy to see how skinny the frail sixteen-year-old was, which was actually a little scary. She still had a body form, good shape, but her anorexia was quite obvious. Well, if you ever caught her without her many layers. Another thing you could catch without her layers on, besides her skinny frame, was that her skin was pale was marked. She had bruises, new and old, all over her body, and her thighs and on the inside of her lower arms were red, irritated, and scarred, a couple spots of fresh blood noticeable. She was a cutter; she had issues. It was life, was it not? Exactly.

Bella quickly got dressed, wearing baggy clothes. She wore a pair of black Tripp pants with red hems and many layers for her top; a black tank top, a black short-sleeved shirt, a black long-sleeved shirt, and, finally, a black jacket with red hems, finishing the outfit. She soon pulled on some old, worn-out tennis shoes, ones she had coloured black herself, and then she walked back into the bathroom to apply her heavy black make-up; heavy eyeliner, heavy mascara, heavy eye shadow, heavy lip stick – heavy everything.

When she was finally done, Bella quickly limped back to her bedroom, grabbing her backpack and stuffing a couple things inside, zipping it back up inside. She then carefully slipped it onto her shoulders before she limped out of her bedroom, towards the front door, her head bowed with her hair hanging in her face. The cold hit her like a brick wall, but she did her best to ignore it, making her way a couple blocks before arriving at her bus stop. The others there glanced at her, but generally left her alone, continuing their conversation as Bella stayed there.

The bus was there a couple minutes later, and she was the last to get on, the others pushing her aside so they were able to pick their seats. A soft scowl escaped her lips, but for the most part, she remained expressionless, finding a seat and occupying it. The bus ride was another fifteen minutes as they picked up more students, Bella looking out the window the whole time. The bus soon slowed down for the final time, telling everyone that they had arrived, and so Bella shifted, getting ready to stand and to get off.

The school looked the same as ever, with the additional blanket of snow covering its rooftops. The girl spared the boring building only one glance before she headed over to her normal bench, one that was always vacant, and she took a seat, looking down at the ground blankly. She was alone, and she was fine with that. She did not need any friends; she was independent in her own way.

Other Info?;; Nope! =^.^=

[Kingdom Of The Sky]

Accepted!