[b]Age:[/b] 21

[b]Frequency Online:[/b] I get on intermittently here and there, to check on things, but I don't always have much time to dedicate.

[b]Favorite Ice Cream:[/b] This is a devious question. I feel like if I choose, all the other flavors I love will get jealous. 
Screw it, Rocky Road.

[b]Any Fandoms You Enjoy:[/b] Naruto, Attack on Titan, Mass Effect, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, and lots of other stuff.

[b]Sample Writing[/b] [hider=Excerpt from a story of mine]
Eve nods solemnly as the false sky vanishes and the wintered clouds of gray creep into place. “I have an explanation for that, at least,” even the vibrancy of the lovely colored flowers seems to fade, “In my own arrogance and impatience I let Lucifer lead me to the Tree. ‘Eve, we’re going to have it all. The answer to everything.’ If only we knew how wrong we were. The Tree was a singular point of rot among the Garden. Death and necrosis twisted into the form of mangled ash black, bracken plant life, surrounding one Tree. When I saw this place, this place of death, it was the first time a human had ever experienced terror and fear,” the grip of her story has hold of my rib cage, I’m finding it hard to breath under this anxiety, “Syd, this is when I made the choice that paved the way for what humanity is today. You see, the Tree, it bore a peculiar golden apple which emitted such a succulent smell, and the air the scent lingered on swayed with such idolatrous divinity, its influence caused a craving to well in my own soul. I couldn’t help but want to taste of it. Lucifer took hold of my hand to brave the grave we dug before us. If only we had known. 

Hand in hand, I plucked the fruit and bit into it. I reached in my mouth to find thorns the golden apple hid underneath its skin, had pierced my gums ever so slightly. I had knowledge of pain. To my discomfort that wasn’t the end of my discoveries,” the old lady in front of me begins to be two people at once, a beautiful young woman, with midnight black hair and cold pale skin, with an expression in her blue eyes to parallel the paralyzing disparaged face of Eve as I experience her, now, and for now, I am suspended helplessly in disbelief, “The Earth shook and the Tree of All Knowledge collapsed in front of me, with it its secrets of Good and Evil- I only had a taste. When it did all crumble, Lucifer fell into the pit, and I was saved by Adam. God had told him to come find me, and save me. He did as he was instructed, but nothing was the same anymore. God and his light left the earth. I learned of despair. Like Lucifer I became a Twisted Soul, here on Earth in the Garden of Eden.”
[/hider]

[b]Status:[/b] Temp for Now

[b]Opening and Closing Post:[/b] [link from the IC to their first and if applicable, final post]

[b]First Name:[/b] Maverick 

[b]Last Name:[/b] Godsil

[b]Born:[/b] June, 18th 1993 (Age 21), California

[b]Appearance:[/b] [url=http://www.imdb.com/media/rm1188145664/ch0308272]Yo[/url]

[b]Positive Adjectives:[/b] Versatile, Instinctual, Anarchic, Kind

[b]Negative Adjectives:[/b] Isolationist, Egotistical

[b]Family:[/b] Brother

[b]Education:[/b] Home Schooled

[b]Hobbies or Talents:[/b] Street Fighting, Hiking/Adventuring/Travelling, Tattooing, Ganja Growing/Gardening

[b]Fears:[/b] Cockroaches, Senseless Death

A Glimpse of,
[I]Premonition? Synchronicity? Deja Vu? Jesus Christ this is weird...[/I] Maverick thought as the fateful flyer drifted on a breeze into his peripherals. He had been talking to Monkey Mountain, the senile, snaggle haired, offensive to the olfactory bum who ate paint chips, and painted his face in, mud?- Maverick wasn't quite sure, and really, he wasn't quite talking so much as self pontificating. Monkey Mountain doesn't speak much anyways. Five minutes prior, Maverick was expelling with rhetorical gusto his sibling adventures with his brother about how they traveled the Earth and ate weird shit with indigenous natives, climbed snow capped mountains, tried questionable cuisine in foreign lands, partied hard in the most luxurious of clubs, and even made a trip to Tibet to see the Dalai Lama himself. Maverick recounted with a sly grin, "Well I mean, we were fuckin rich as hell, mass producing some of the finest marijuana this world has ever seen! We did as much we could. Rode the wave of life for all it was worth," Maverick's grin and glib faded like a ghost, replaced by somber absence with a dissatisfied thought, "Ya know, I'm still rich. But its kinda meaningless without bub. It really fuckin is. Sad face Monkey man," he glanced over at Monkey Mountain who sympathized with a slight nod and shrug. "Yeh, well I guess talking about it ain't gonna make it better. Fuggit. Let's go get you a bath and then I'll buy you a pimpin suit bud..." his voice trails off as the flyer pique's his perceptions. 

It hit him hard. Undeniable was this eerie cognizance, he couldn't shake it, and his instincts told him that he was meant to pick up that flyer. "Hold up Monkey" he says. Maverick jogs across the stretch of gravel and trash under the Portland underpass overlooking the river, and picks up the flyer, also noting the concrete column that was plastered with copies of the same flyer. He gave it a quick look, feeling out the design, and then he fed on the phrases. The hairs on the back of his neck stood and he shudders lowly, "This is it." 

As if he was reliving it, he slips back into a memory, of a smoke filled room illuminated by a video game on a big screen. They were playing Geometry Wars in between bong sessions, absurdly ripped. On the shelves around them were mason jars filled with cannabis flowers. Maverick could distinctly recall his brother's obnoxious cackle as both of their geometrical neon ships exploded into a glorious array of light across the intergalactic void squared off for their playing field. "I don't think we're high enough yet, that's why we're losing," Maverick baited. 
His brother's laughter tapered into a chuckle, "Alright bro, no need to convince me, this is a time for celebration after all." They put the game on pause. "I can't believe it man. After all this time, I'm on the front cover of High Times magazine. It's crazy when your dreams come true. I fuckin can't believe it. My bud. Intergalactic Lemon is finally going to be known to the world!" 
"I don't think everyone in the world is privy to High Times bub." Maverick said as he struggled to keep in his weak bong rip. 
"That's okay, we can bring it to the world. As soon as we harvest a couple more crops, we're going to go travel." 
"Hell yes! Where to this time? Colorado, Hawaii? Alaska?"
"I was thinkin a little more exotic. I was thinking kinda touring the whole planet." 
"Will we have enough money?" 
"Oh that's not an issue, " his brother retorted sarcastically, "It's never been, and you know that. Mom and Dad left us a lot before they passed away. I know you didn't get to know em, you were too young, but they loved to travel. For fuckin sure man. Serious nomads."
Maverick nodded as he had a sinsemilla influenced epiphany "Once we bring it to the world bro, we gotta bring it to the galaxy. And then, the whole entire badass Universe!" 
Their stoned ambition synchronized in manly fraternal connection as his brother, without missing a beat, builds upon the tangent dream, "Then we're off to the multiverse!- and then there and back again through time man, all over the infinite regression of wherever the hell we want to go!...," his brother breaths, his face straightens, "We'll need to buy a time machine." 
"Let's just invent it." 

They bro-fisted and then fell silent into introspection. All that could be heard in the room was the bubbling of the bong water, strong exhalations, and the ambient tones from Geometry Wars. Maverick remembered how peaceful he felt back then. 
His brother began loading the next bowl, "Hey. In all seriousness Maverick, if I ever die-"
"Don't talk like that man."
"Hey, I'm just sayin. Mom and Dad went kinda early. I could too. Let me finish."
"Alright," Maverick sighs, "c'mon."
"Look, if I ever die before you bro, and we haven't made it to space by then, please, you have to go up there for me." 
It was requested simply, so Maverick responded in kind. 
"Yeh. Okay. I can do that." 

The memory ends and Maverick is returned to the Portland underpass, clutching the flyer. He turns to Monkey Mountain with a huge smile across his face, "I'm goin to New York. But first, I'll need to pick up some Intergalactic Pineapple, oh, and give all my money to charity. Do you want my house? What am I saying- of course you do- c'mon, time for your bath." Maverick motions Monkey Mountain on with renewed vigor, excited for his chance to go beyond the boundaries.