"Call me Greg, everyone else does."
What I look like: I'm pretty tall, around 5'11" last I checked. I have blonde hair but I dye it blue regularly, and usually keep it on the longer side. I have longish limbs, pale skin, and my eyes are usually a dull gray color.
My name is: Floyd Gregory Sarrasen ( still suspicious my mother named me after Pink Floyd)
I'm 19 years old
I'm male, obviously. (I hope obviously)
My species: Shifter
Personality: I'm a pretty laid back person, but some things can bug me. If someone argues with me, it's easy for me to get caught up in it and start yelling, by I try not to. Sleeping and listening to music, and being overall lazy, are some of my favorite hobbies. I've always been a lazy person, but I also get things done. I'm told I'm pretty nice, but a little weird too. I don't think I'm that weird, but I don't think I'm normal either. People who are too serious bug me, and I hate too see people sad or stressed out. And over all, I like to have fun. And if someone tried to boss me around, it's the one time I get angry, really angry.
What I like: Music, specifically playing music, the color blue, art, the outdoors, being carefree
What I don't like: Doctors, stress, being stuck inside, being called "weird", and chocolate
How long since they took me to the institution: A year
Family Relations:
Mom: Don't know her that well, as I've met her once. Or at least, that I remembered. She looked a little like me, but wasn't very nice. She just wanted some money.
Dad: He's pretty cool. Didn't really care what I did growing up, though I never heard him try and stop them from taking me to the institution.
Sister: She's really nice, older than me by a year. She was the only one who questioned my going to the institution. I hear she wants to visit.
Friends: TBA
People I don't like: TBA
Call it what you want
I said just call it what you want
Yeah we're locked up in ideas
We like to label everything
Well I'm just gonna do here what I gotta do here
'Cause I gotta keep myself free
You're ducking and moving just to hide your bruising from all your enemies
And I'm in the crossfire dodging bullets from you expectancies
We've got nothing to lose
You better run and hide
Yeah you've crossed the line
I've got a knife behind my back (just sayin')
We've got nothing to prove
Your social guides give you swollen eyes
But what I've got can't be bought so you can just
Call it what you want
I said just call it what you want
You've taken your words and you take your judgments
And stick them onto everything
If it don't conform to what you were born into,
Then you run the other way
You say, "now what's your style and who do you listen to?" who cares?
Well that rat race ladder-climbing fake-face smile's got nothing on me