Roleplay Online with RolePlayGateway

Name: Keifer "Kurse" Smith
Age: Seventeen I guess
Appearence: <--- Not the best picture of me : P
Personality: He's grown a bit darker over the few months, he was rejected by foster home after foster home so he finally went to live back with his parents. It wasn't pretty. His mom missed him and she stopped hurting him, but his father still harbored the same hate. He would've left a while after, but he stayed behind to help his sister, who when Kurse was taken, was beaten by her dad. Kurse's dad abused him and his sister non-stop, which has led to numerous scars on Kurse. So he ran out again, and now lives on the streets, or any friends house he can sleep at. He still likes to crack jokes and smoke, but his voice has grown better and he sings all the time.
Other: Nothin I can think of

Sorry if it's a bit half-assed but I can't really think today, and it's a fine story line

Ha ha, thanks, I can't straighten my hair worth shit though , I usually get my friend to do it
And yeah she's a babe : P

So...who do you want to make first post?

((Lol, that's kinda odd, I have a girly girl hair cut : P, ahh I'm kiddin.
And yes I will))

Kurse looked at the long lines of people rushing to go back and forth to school and work. He laughed and lit up a cigarette. A cop passed him and looked at him funny, but kept going. His partner stopped. "Shouldn't you be at school?" He asked. "I doubt school wants an illiterate, scared up bastard," Kurse snarled at the cop, blowing smoke at him. The other cop pulled his partner away. He smirked and leaned against the wall, still blowing smoke out. He scratched the side of his head again. He remembered who gave it to him and snarled again. He stayed leaning against the wall and lit another cigarette. "Like moths to a flame," He watched the people flood the streets and lauged. Some people looked at him funny, but they just passed him.

Kurse watched a group of cheerleaders walk by. He whistled at the one in the lead, and her boyfriend stepped out of the group. "What was that, you little punk?" He growled at Kurse. Kurse smiled and puffed on his cigarette. "I complimented your girl," Kurse blew smoke out of his half opened mouth. "Is that so bad, you big bitch?" He snarled at the guy. The jocky type started towards Kurse, who snarled again and slammed his fist into the guys face. "You really shouldn't try to fight someone who was forced to push plows around for six years," Kurse pulled up his sleeves and revealed his brawny arms. The kid got up and lunged at Kurse, knocking him down. The kid tried pinning Kurse's arms down, but he brought his elbows into play and knocked him over. Kurse stood up and waited for the retard to makes his next move. The girls and their boyfriends had made a slight semi circle around them.

Kurse looked at the jocky boy. "You know, I don't even know why we're fighting," He held out his hand for the guy to shake. Some of his friends shook their head and others said "No", but he waved his hand and took Kurse's, squeezing as hard as he could. Kurse smiled and squeezed back. The boy grimaced and gritted his teeth, until Kurse bashed his head against the boys, knocking him out for a second. When the kid hit the ground, Kurse pulled out a cigarette and lit it. "That'll teach you to mess with us big boys," He laughed and walked out of the semi-circle, a small drop of blood staining his cheek. He wiped it off. He felt a little light headed. He looked at a slightly younger girl wrestling with a boy and her friend helping her up. He heard the girl laugh and he stopped. He remembered that laugh from somewhere. He struggled to remember it. He stood there and puffed his cigarette. He scratched his scar a little. That particular one had ruined part of his memory, but something that happened a half a year ago stopped him from remembering almost completely. He remembered a doctor treating him a while ago, and he said his memory would come back eventually, possibly by a catalyst. He squinted a little and then remembered a little. "Kyree?" He said to himself quietly. He needed to be sure, he didn't know if she was dead or alive, but he didn't want to make an ass of himself. He walked by them and whispered "Kyree" so quiet that only the girl could hear. He watched for any signs of recognition or if she'd perk up when someone whispered her name.

Kurse smirked. He put one arm around her, holding his cigarette with the other. He smiled at her and waited for her to let go. She looked different, then he felt his scarred face. He looked different too. "Hey," He said quietly. He still didn't remember fully what happened, but a small part came back.

"...and I understand if you choose to hate me," Kurse finished. Kyree hugged him. "I don't hate you,"

Kurse snapped out of it. He put his cigarette in his mouth and put his other arm around her.

((You talk about me like I'm not here and yay I'm cute ))
((Wait till you see me smile, I can make girls blush : D, aha, I'm so full of myself))
Kurse looked at her sadly. "Everyone died a little bit," Kurse said. "The only difference is that I let it get to me," He puffed on his cigarette and wrapped his arms around her again. "I'm glad you're alive too,"

Kurse pulled his hair back a little, showing a group of jagged scars where his dad busted a bottle into his head. "They're dead to me," He smiled sadly. "I know I look different," He felt his face. "You look way different," He put a hand on his shoulder. "It's cute," He smiled.

"Okay," Kurse smiled at her. "But I forgot something," he bent down to tie his show and sprung back up, tickling mercilessly at her sides. He smiled. "You didn't think I'd forget this did you?" He asked her, smiling. He let go her sides and began walking beside her. "I think you look cute with your hardcore punky look," He smiled at her.