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Smith Bryant

"I am legally able to ignore your accusations until you can find proof. So far, you have none."

0 · 470 views · located in University of Diversity

a character in “Sponsor Me”, as played by comicbooklover


Smith Bryant

Named in memory of Smith the Spider we found in our math class. He was crushed soon after being named...... Yes, I'm that weird.....



Human turned Vampire



|Physical Description|
Smith has blonde hair and blue/green eyes. He just calls them blue. Smith has been told he has a great smile, he just doesn't smile a lot. But, the poor kid's got a pretty messy past. I wouldn't be surprised he's not always cheery. Smith is about 6'0" and usually wears tee shirts, jeans, and black high top sneakers. Smith is pale and has a scar that runs behind his ear. He never tells what it's from. Unlike most vampires, he doesn't have red eyes. He looks pretty normal.... The first picture above isn't really like him since he looks very cheery. It looks like him, just imagine a frown. ;D The secondis pretty accurate. He usually has a cigarette pack in his pocket, but after putting a firework in a fellow prisoner's cigarette when he was in jail, he's always just abit nervous to smoke, so he doesn't do it much anymore, unless he has an absolute craving.

|I can...|
Smith doesn't consider himself gifted in any way, shape, or form. Truly, he is an amazing fighter and liar. They aren't the talents everyone wishes for, but they sure do come in handy.

|But I can't...|
Smith has trust issues. He's been let down too many times to put his faith in things too much. But his strings can be pulled if you can just get a hold of them.

Mainly, because of Smith's past, he is more secluded to himself. This isn't to say he's shy, he just isn't a people person. Smith is far from dumb. As you'll learn from his bio, for the kinds of things he got away with, he had to be smart. Smith doesn't like to talk about his past. But, who would if they had a past like him?
Smith can have another side. He isn't always serious and can crack a great joke now and then. He can make... not friends, but somewhat close to that, I guess. The only reason he doesn't make friends is because he doesn't want anything about his "time" slip, and get the cops called on him. Smith is also easily scared. He usually keeps a closet light on wherever he stays, because the dark doesn't soothe him.. not anymore. He gets night terrors a lot. Smith usually listens to music. It clears his head.
Smith can't easily forgive. It's much easier for him to forgive others than to forgive himself. He thinks he's fallen too far to be saved. And being a vampire doesn't help.

|I like...|
Smith enjoys playing basketball and he's pretty good at it too. Smith likes food.... who doesn't? Although he is extremely skinny, he could almost eat anything. Smith likes watching TV and he also has a bad habit of betting... which is why he owes some money. Smith enjoys dogs. "They shut up and don't get involved in your stuff, like humans." or so he says. Smith LOVES music. It can completely change his mood from bad to good (or vice versus). He often has cravings for O- Blood... he swears it tastes better than any other blood type.

|But I don't like...|
Smith hates romance movies and soap operas. Sappy stuff never gets his interest. He isn't a cat person. Dogs are cool, but cats always demand attention. Smith doesn't like children.... he doesn't really like people either. And, most of all, Smith doesn't like himself.

None at the moment.

Smith was born in Chicago. His mom (Mary Stark) and dad (Ted Stark) loved him very much. They were raising him to grow up and be a good man.... But then came the Interstate 90 incident. The Stark couple crashed into a semi on a date night. They were instantly killed. Horrified, Smith ignored everyone as best as he could for three months. He was sent to his aunt, Lorie Stark. Miss Stark wasn't very kind to him and often gave him harsh punishments for small things, like locking him in a closet for two days with only a glass of water, all because he came out of his room when she had her boyfriend over, supposedly ruining the whole night. So, tired of the crappy life he was living, Smith ran away at the age of fourteen. Aided by Google, Smith found out all about gambling. So, he began betting. He got into debt when he thought he was going to make money. He was targeted by many mafia bosses who he owed. He got into a shoot out. He killed a man... on accident. He felt horrible afterward. He was sentenced for twenty years in the slammer. After getting in a fight with a really pale dude who tripped him, this strange guy bit him. No one noticed and Smith did his best to hide it, but he knew he had changed. But he couldn't explain why he had dry apples with two holes in them but no other bite marks. Thankfully, one night, someone let him out. He didn't know how or why or even who, but he was able to leave. He changed his name to Smith Bryant (which means strong... like Stark) and tried to track down the person who let him out. He was unsuccessful, but soon he got a message from an unknown person signing their message with "-R". In the email, R hinted him to go to the University of Diversity saying he'd be safe their. With his criminal records erased, he could start fresh. Smith thought that was the best option.

Check the forum.

Smith is skilled at playing with Yo-Yo's. He can do all sorts of tricks with them.

|Theme Song| Ms Mr- Bones

[Verse 1]
Dig up her bones but leave the soul alone
Boy with a broken soul
Heart with a gaping hole
Dark twisted fantasy turned to reality
Kissing death and losing my breath
Midnight hours cobble street passages
Forgotten savages, forgotten savages

Dig up her bones but leave the soul alone
Let her find a way to a better place
Broken dreams and silent screams
Empty churches with soulless curses
We found a way to escape the day

[Verse 2]
Dig up her bones but leave the soul alone
Lost in the pages of self made cages
Life slips away and the ghosts come to play
These are hard times
These are hard times for dreamers
And love lost believers


[Verse 3]
Candybar creep show
My highs hit a new low
Marinate in misery
Like a girl of only 17
Man made madness
And the romance of sadness
A beautiful dance that happened by chance
Happened by chance, happened by chance


So begins...

Smith Bryant's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Smith Bryant
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Smith Bryant stood in front of the school. It had taken him about three busses and a very long walk to get him here. The money for the busses he got from… well, never mind. You don’t need to know. Smith had his hands in his pockets and, over the shoulders of his grey tee shirt, was a backpack. In the “cup holder” of the bag was a bottle of red liquid that he called fruit punch. Smith was wearing jeans with grass stains on the knees and rips towards his ankles. He was rubbing two circular scars on his pale neck, a bad habit for when he got nervous. He sighed. He used to be a fairly tan Chicago kid with a future. Now he was a pasty white freak who had a past that he couldn’t share and had a fake name.
Smith took his first steps toward the school, ignoring stares. Just blend in, he thought to himself. Maybe they won’t noti-
Interrupting his thoughts came an old guy with round glasses. “Hello, young pale sir.” The pale part made Smith wince. Whoever the dude was, he wasn’t getting off to a good start. “Would you happen to be here for the vampire programs?” The man emphasized vampire with a creepy and somewhat offending voice. Smith’s eyes widened and he stared at the dude in confusion.
“Uh…” he started, running a nervous hand through his light blonde hair. His blue-ish green eyes darted back and forth.
“No need to be embarrassed. Here at the University of Diversity we accept all kinds!” the man said, sounding more like a cheesy commercial. Smith chuckled.
“My mom always told me not to talk to strangers,” he said, pushing past him. The old man darted to catch up, and for a geezer, he was pretty fast.
“I’m not a stranger! I’m here to take you to your dorm!” he cried. Smith stopped.
“You don’t even know who I am,” Smith said, crossing his arms.
“You’re Smith Bryant, the newbie dude from... er... yeah! See, I’m not as stupid as you think I am!” Smith awkwardly raised his eyebrows. “Follow me,” he said, marching into the school. Smith decided to tag along with the guy’s “Follow the Leader” game, feeling it would be interesting. Despite the man’s annoyingness, Smith was interested in how he knew his name and how he knew he was a blood drinking… thing…
Smith walked into the school and looked around. There were people everywhere, humans and vampires alike. Despite the old man’s creepiness, he hadn’t lied about any of it. Whoever the “R” chick was that sent Smith here, she had better be smart for sending him here. ‘Cause, Smith wasn’t sure he’d like it here, so he hoped R had some good reasons in line.
The old man walked by the girl’s bathroom, went past a room, and then stopped at a room labeled #9. Smith looked around.
“Where’s the guy’s bathroom?” he asked. The man pointed toward the stairs. Smith rolled his eyes. “Great. When I have to use to toilet at four in the morning, I’ll be running around the school. Just lovely.” The man stared at him.
“You’re very grumpy, aren’t you?” the old guy asked. Smith stuck his pointer finger towards the man’s face.
“Just buzz off, dude,” he growled. The man nodded.
“I guess I won’t tell you about sponsors, then,” the man said, mysteriously. Smith’s eyes widened.
“What are sponsors?” he asked. The old man laughed.
“You’re right. I’ll ‘buzz off’. Have a nice stay at the University of Diversity kid.”
And with a wink, the creepy old dude left Smith as confused as ever standing outside room #9.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ruairi Vaduva Character Portrait: Lilith Báthory Character Portrait: Smith Bryant Character Portrait: Abram Maledetto Character Portrait: Kaiden McIlroy Character Portrait: Henri Leppards
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Ruairi Väduva

Dark chuckling echoed in a shady room. The origin of this laughter was a small figure that sat crouched upon the bed. He had snuck into this room without anyone noticing by taking on the form of a small grey mouse and crawling through the space under the floors. This was not a random decision. No this mouse boy had a reason for taking such precautions. They were necessary after all the preparations he took the previous year.

Before he returned home during the vacation he took it upon himself to begin his collections. Just what he was collecting is the truly important part however. Mousetraps. The boy had been collecting every mousetrap that had ever been laid around the school for the past year. All of this was part of his elaborate plan for revenge. The year before he had gotten his tail caught in one of these traps and upon the scream of pain he made the immediate decision that someone would pay.

The real hard part was deciding who the victim would have to be. At first he thought a member of the student council would be the best option, but one person made a grave error about a week after he had made his decision of revenge. A certain someone called him a brat and that made the mouse boy angry.

So finally, after a year, he had all the necessary ingredients to execute his divine retribution upon the vampire, Henri. Now all he had to do was sneak into his room and set up the mousetraps and leave before the vampire or his cat returned.

Ruairi hates that leopard. The mere mention of the creature sent shivers down his spine. The boy shook away the goose bumps however and continued his counting, “ninety-eight, ninety-nine…” He set each mousetrap into a paper bag on his bed as he counted them, “one hundred and one. Perfect! If these can’t cover his entire floor then…then…I’m going to be very unhappy.”

The boy climbed out of the bed and crept over to the door. Creaking it open slightly he poked his head out into the hall. Specifically in the direction of Lilith’s room, after all, that’s the first place that the smoke machine would be headed towards after he left his room. Not to mention that the girl’s door was always open giving her a clear view of the hallway.

Somehow he always got caught by her and her guests. It was almost as if he gave off an aura of deceit and trouble that they always picked up on. Plus, that cat of his was sharp and if they were in that room there’s no way they wouldn’t see him make his way into Henri’s room.

Unfortunately, that was exactly where they were located. To make matters worse, no sooner did Ruairi stick his head out the door did the hallway by his target fill up with other students. “Darn it.” His grand master plan would simply have to wait a little longer. However he could be patient. After a year he would happily be patient a little longer.

So for now he would have to stir up some other kind of trouble. No worries, he was good at that.

Finally deciding to emerge from his room, the shirtless boy nonchalantly made his way towards the stairs. A wicked smile crossed his lips as his nose, while not as sensitive as most still picked up the smell of humans in close proximity to the dorm building.

I wonder if they’re new sponsors? Suckers. Before rounding the corner of the steps completely the boy stuck out his head and stole a peek down the stairs. There were most definitely humans outside however the one that caught his attention was the giant boy with fire engine red hair.

He was intimidating to say the least and that made Ruairi’s smile grow wider. The scary ones were always the best suited for pranking. Perhaps, however if Ruairi was better suited to reading moods his personal opinion on the matter would have been a little different. The red head was obviously angry, no doubt after having been fooled into sponsoring vampires, however the mouse boy was oblivious to that fact. He was too caught up in imagining all the pranks he could play on this guy.

First thing first however. He needed a stick of butter, which means that he needed to sneak into the cafeteria and steal a stick of butter. If only his elder brothers hadn’t stolen all his supplies. Then he would already have the ingredients for his cruel and potentially painful prank.

Those brothers of his knew him far too well. Of course, that is to be expected since they taught him everything he knows. Honestly, if they wanted him to stop pranking others they shouldn’t have handed him their fictional guidebook to the world’s best pranks. And the oldest trick in that book is the ancient ‘butter the hardwood and tile floors’ hoax. Still, no matter how old, watching people fall on their butts never goes out of fashion and plus, is there any better way to greet everyone then by buttering the area in front of the front door?

No, obviously not. At least nothing nearly as entertaining. A dark shadow cast itself upon the child’s face as his sadistic snicker echoed on the stairwell. He loved picking on the older folks and newbies.

Ruairi’s ears twitched in response to a rather loudly made entrance into the dorm building. Glancing back down the stairs he caught a glimpse of the rather strange vampire called Abram as he rounded the corner in a somewhat crazy manner.

The boy’s mouse tail stiffened and his ears flattened against his head in response to the thought that ran through the child’s head, that guy is a real nut job and kind of a creepy one at that. Shaking away the unnecessary feelings brought on by the weirdness of the passing image the mouse boy bounded down the stairs only to trip on the final step. After face planting he quickly regained his composure and leapt back onto his feet. “Nobody saw that,” he muttered to himself and glanced around. His gaze fell upon a new face, a very confused new face.

A blonde boy was standing outside what was probably his dorm room. Ruairi being the immature brat he is did the first thing he thought of, he stuck his tongue out at the boy and spoke, “you look confused, idiot.”

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Smith Bryant
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Smith sat on the small bed with a wooden frame that sat in the corner of his room. His mind raced through thoughts like flying through pages in a book with the your thumb on the side. He thought about the events leading to him finding the University of Diversity and how uneasy it felt for him to stay in one place. He felt like a fish in a barrel, as if he had trapped himself in a location so the government could find him and drag his sorry butt back behind bars. Smith was remorseful about his human life and all that he had done made him cringe. He was only seventeen and had the blood of a man on his hands. This is exactly why he thought his life was a waste. This always brought him back to wondering what it would have been like if he had a better childhood. If his parents had been there, or maybe if he hadn't had an abusive aunt, he might have been different. He may have never gone to jail, and he may have still been literally alive.

The thought of his parents made Smith stand up, like the memories triggered some sort of leap inside of him. He didn't want to think about them. Of all the horrible memories that haunted him, his parents were what he wanted to forget. Even though he didn't know it, his parent's still kept him whole, even though they had been dead for years. They were truly the only good influences he had. He wanted to forget, but he knew remembering would keep him sane, even if he was also filled with grief.

Smith sunk down beside his bag and unzipped it. He dug around the junk he had packed in it until he found his small, portable CD player and headphones. He pulled them out and opened it, to find a CD of contemporary songs. He didn't have an iPod or phone to play music on, because those could be tracked. So, he used a CD player. He slipped his headphones on over his shaggy blonde hair and decided to go out for a walk. As the music filled his ears, he decided he'd have to find the answers his "Greeter" had skipped. So, he grabbed his "juice" bottle and stood up again.

He stepped out into the hall, looking at the people who darted past him. He began to walk in the same direction most were going in, tuning most everything else off. The loudness of the others in the hall sometimes were audible, but Smith just cranked up the volume. In his own little trance, he didn't notice his bottle slipping out of his hands until it was too late. Splat! It hit the ground, causing a crack in the side to form and a bit of O negative... juice... to slip out onto the floor. Smith crouched down and picked up his bottle and wiped the blood off of the floor as quickly as he could, using his hands. He rubbed them on his jeans, ignoring the fact his hands still looked a bit red. He figured no one would ask, and if they did, he could always pretend he didn't hear them. Sure, it was a school that excepted being different, but it's not like he wanted "VAMPIRE" tattooed on his forehead.