Khrist Kylar Peters

[khrist kylar peters.]

hey! i'm Tink and i dwell in England. isn't that just dandy?! i am 18 years old and loving
it! the characters i play on this amazing roleplay site are Khrist Kylar Peters
don't forget it! oh btw, i've been roleplaying for like 6 years! yeah, you better believe it.
my final last words would be scene boys make me drool D<

NAME: Khrist Kylar Peters
AGE: Eightteen
GENDER: Male
SEXUALITY: Straight
CRIME: Multiple Attempted Murders, Trespassing, multiple cases of GBH, Vandalism and Theft of an Automobile
PLAYBY:Ronnie Radke
MEMBER GROUP: Bullet



LOVE: Drink, Free Running, Bar Brawls, night time, fencing((odd, no?)), music and girls
HATE: Being told what to do, School, guns, his mother and extremes of weather
STRENGTHS: Free running, fighting, singing, dealing with loss and driving
WEAKNESSES: His temper, trust and he could dial down the amount of lip he gives
SECRETS: He’s a posh boy, he’s been running his whole life, he’s actually normal....well...in the head and all this was just a teenage rebellion got out of hand.
FEARS: dogs, being forgotten and being boring.
PERSONALITY:
Volatile, Insecure, Quick Witted, Abrasive, Energetic, Unable to sit still, reacts on instinct, loyal to the end, reckless and irresponsible, doesn’t dwell, doesn’t allow things to break him, see’s needing people as a weakness, just wants to live, fast learner and somehow has the ability to smile no matter what
HOMETOWN: London, Uk
PARENTS: Dad: James Peters, 50, Author
Mom: Tatyana Unknown, 46...ish, unknown
SIBLINGS: N/A
OTHER RELATIVES: Unknown
HISTORY:
Right, Lets start from the beginning, he was born in London to his English father and Russian mother. Everything was fine and dandy till he was about two when his mother vanished. His father always refused to talk about his mother, only disclosing her first name and that she was about four or five years younger. So, not the best of starts but plenty of people have had worse, right? Well, Khrist isn’t sure as, despite being 18, barely remembers most of his life before he was 10 when they first moved. That’s when the trouble started.

See, till then he’d always been a good boy, always went to school, never got into trouble..in fact one psychiatrist that his father forced him to see believes that the Khrist that lived in London is not the Khrist that arrived in Birmingham, hell he even insisted on being referred to as Kylar. You see, Kylar knows exactly what happened, at that tender age of ten he decided that he didn’t want to be a good boy anymore. In those ten short years, he’d been abandoned by his mother, had his father ignore his curiosity about her, lost friends and now been uprooted from a place where he was happy, with people he loved...with no concern for his feelings. He was done being the good little boy.

Of course, he’d never admit to anyone that it was merely an early teenage rebellion, oh no, he was a mystery because of this! He got attention for it, and isn’t that what every child wants? Soon, he actually reached his teens and his rebellion became less of child acting way out of line and became havoc. He spent every night out with his friends getting drunk and getting into fights, never expecting anything to come of it.

So, what did his father do, he handed him a foil and sent him off to Fencing classes, expecting him to learn patience and control...which he did, but only for the sport as he quickly fell in love with it. It was actually a way to fight with an otherwise deadly weapon and actually have no consequence. He picked it up with the flair of a natural, more trouble ensued. At the age of 14, his father had to move again but this time it was because of Khrist. Kylar had got into one of his brawls in a pub, taken a sabre from the wall and implanted it firmly in a man’s shoulder.

His father, still believing the problem could be fixed ran, with his son, to France. Here he was introduced to the phenomena of Free Running. He instantly got into it and, just like fencing, found a love for it. Over the following three years his father moved them eight times due to the indiscretions of Kylar. Bar fights, trespassing amongst other offenses were common place for the boy. What his father didn’t realise is if he hadn’t introduced his son to fencing, his fighting would be much less proficient with less co-ordination, speed and grace and if he hadn’t have moved to Bordeaux then he’d have never been introduced to free running. This meaning he wouldn’t have been able to get into quite so many situations of trespass, he’d be weaker, less flexible, have lower endurance and wouldn’t have built up such a high threshold for pain.

During all his time across these nations, he often found himself behind the wheel of a car, whether it was part of some sort of criminal activity his friends had got him into or merely just a means of evasion. In such situations, you learn and you learn quick, having only a few lessons in car parks and so on with his father under his belt he really had to pick it up fast.

Then they arrived in New York and it was a different story. The people he got in with were much deeper in the underworld than his friends elsewhere and little did he know, his safety blanket was now being withdrawn. Yes, his father had finally decided to give up on him, deciding the best he could do was have food and shelter for his young son to come home to, hoping he might settle down. Yet Kylar found himself even worse off, he witnessed murders, he was behind the wheel of drive bys and found himself involved in organised crime...unfortunately, his involvement happened to be that he put the son of a big time gangster in hospital.

Suddenly, he had a bounty. Not that he realised, till he found himself in an alley with one of, what he thought were, his friends pointing a loaded pistol at him, apologising and saying it was just business. Kylar lost it, flew at the man, ripping the gun from his hand and bouncing the guy’s head off the alley wall before firing off 4 rounds at his struggling friend. Then he ran, as fast as he could, across buildings and through the streets. Yet his night wasn’t over, he was confronted with bent cops, so called friends and mobsters, all out for his head. Within three hours he’d simply stopped wondering if the next person he encountered was friend or foe, if he knew the face from his year within such circles, he took it down. Stabbing, punching, mauling, throwing and smashing. Next thing he knew, he was surrounded, blue lights, sirens and a helicopter, he did the first thing he thought of, nicked a car and tried to run. After a long time behind the wheel of that car he found himself at some docks, no road...or petrol left.

Fleeing the vehicle, the roofs were where he once more made a path for. Adding trespassing to a growing line of felonies, not his smartest plan. Yet, he was on the roof and surrounded, he kicked in the sky light and jumped to the top of a very large light where he lay, just out of sight from above and hidden from below. Soon the building was swarming with police and so forth, they knew he was there, there was no way he could outwait them. So, He pulled at another chord of desperation, finding the gun he’d obtained earlier in the night, he leaned over the edge of the light and started shooting. In a way it was a good thing he wasn’t a good shot otherwise he’d have racked up quite a few murders that night...well good thing were he to be judged in a normal court by normal law.

Soon, he’d emptied his gun and as he fumbled for another clip, he slipped, he and the gun dropped but he caught the light with his finger tips. Agonisingly he began to drag himself back up only to have a stray bullet break one of the cables supporting the light, it swung across the ceiling and Kylar lost his hold. He fell down to the ground and all was black. Well, that’s how this sorry kid ended up locked in Desolation Row.

so, yeah, this template was made by MAC MALICIOUS ?! of Caution v2.0! don't steal or imma cut you! haha, yeah, i really won't, or will i? ;] ok but seriously, don't steal, it's me
an and doesn't really help your integrity now does it? - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -