Announcements: Cutting Costs (2024) » January 2024 Copyfraud Attack » Finding Universes to Join (and making yours more visible!) » Guide To Universes On RPG » Member Shoutout Thread » Starter Locations & Prompts for Newcomers » RPG Chat — the official app » Frequently Asked Questions » Suggestions & Requests: THE MASTER THREAD »

Latest Discussions: Adapa Adapa's for adapa » To the Rich Men North of Richmond » Shake Senora » Good Morning RPG! » Ramblings of a Madman: American History Unkempt » Site Revitalization » Map Making Resources » Lost Poetry » Wishes » Ring of Invisibility » Seeking Roleplayer for Rumple/Mr. Gold from Once Upon a Time » Some political parody for these trying times » What dinosaur are you? » So, I have an Etsy » Train Poetry I » Joker » D&D Alignment Chart: How To Get A Theorem Named After You » Dungeon23 : Creative Challenge » Returning User - Is it dead? » Twelve Days of Christmas »

Players Wanted: Serious Anime Crossover Roleplay (semi-literate) » Looking for a long term partner! » JoJo or Mha roleplay » Seeking long-term rp partners for MxM » [MxF] Ruining Beauty / Beauty x Bastard » Minecraft Rp Help Wanted » CALL FOR WITNESSES: The Public v Zosimos » Social Immortal: A Vampire Only Soiree [The Multiverse] » XENOMORPH EDM TOUR Feat. Synthe Gridd: Get Your Tickets! » Aishna: Tower of Desire » Looking for fellow RPGers/Characters » looking for a RP partner (ABO/BL) » Looking for a long term roleplay partner » Explore the World of Boruto with Our Roleplaying Group on FB » More Jedi, Sith, and Imperials needed! » Role-player's Wanted » OSR Armchair Warrior looking for Kin » Friday the 13th Fun, Anyone? » Writers Wanted! » Long term partner to play an older male wanted »

0
followers
follow

Zach Holland

"Nerd. Freak. Spaz. Dork. Slut. Dyke. Fag."

0 · 568 views · located in Los Angeles

a character in “The East Shore”, originally authored by leopardspotz17, as played by Northgaze

Description

Name: Zach Holland

Image

Nickname: None. Just Zach. He dares you to call him anything else.

Age: 18

Gender: Male, obviously.

Sexual Orientation: Straight

Appearance: Zach's your perfect jock. He's very tall, towering at 6'1, and brawny. He looks as if he's a carved from stone by a master artist. With broad shoulders and abs rivaling those of Taylor Lautner, Zach has the perfect physique. And he knows it all too well. In addition, he has dirty blonde hair, some rather unique dark blue eyes, and a nose that twitches up whenever he sneers. Which is quite often. Zach does not walk. He saunters. He has an everlasting swagger and a menacing, nearly-predatory, way about him. His usual garb consists of blue jeans that fall low on his hips and basic t-shirts. Zach has a particular tattoo on the back of his right shoulder. It's done in bold black lines, depicting a rearing viper with a red diamond between its eyes.

Hobbies: Playing Sports (Football, Basketball, and Baseball), Getting Girls, Terrorizing Others... oh, and he likes black licorice. What was that? No one likes black licorice? Well, he does. So shut it.

Family:

Jacquelyn Byrne: Zach's mother. She's small and slight with flowing blonde hair and bright blue eyes. She's a stern woman with most everyone... except Zach. He's got her under his thumb. He's her little boy, and she'd do anything for him. Though he treats her with disrespect, she doesn't seem to notice. It's possible she feels guilty for being drugged out and an alcoholic during most of his childhood. After going through some very dark times, Jacquelyn strives to be a proper lady at all times. Maybe one day she'll be able to convince herself that she truly is one. But she's got the dream now. Rich husband, all-star son, and a big house near Beverly Hills. She buys into her perfect delusion, and freaks out when anyone disturbs it. To be quite frank, perhaps her mental health was better when she was still taking drugs. At least she was in reality some of the time back then.

Andrew Harvey: Zach's father. Zach inherited his build from his father. However, over the years, Andrew gained some weight. While still stocky, he has a good-sized beer gut. He has thinning light brown hair, and a permanent five-o-clock shadow. He always seems to smell of alcohol and cigarettes. Andrew is a complete bum. He's violent, full of anger and regret, and falls to the bottle when there's nothing else to do. It's only a matter of time before he dies of alcohol poisoning or a heart attack. But Zach couldn't care less. He hates his father. He's a loser.

Mark Byrne: Zach's stepfather. He's a nice guy, Zach supposes. At least he's not a failure like his own father. But Zach tries hard to avoid him. He doesn't need any crap "father figure", or whatever. Mark knows that Zach isn't his biggest fan, but he thinks it's normal. He can't push him to accept him like family. Mark thinks Zach is just misunderstood. Of course, he has no idea what Zach gets up to on a daily basis.

Peter Byrne: Zach's stepbrother. Peter's a total freak. Always running his mouth, and saying weird stuff. He's such a pain. At least he gives Zach an outlet to let loose his anger on. He's just so convenient. But there's something more than that. Zach finds himself hating Peter to bits. He'd never admit it, but Zach is envious. Peter's got a loving dad, intellect, athleticism, and an unwavering happy view at life. Sure, his mom's six feet under, but he's got everything else. Why should Peter have all that when he's got shit? Oh, and he's got that dumb rat too. Zach will occasionally wake up with vengeful bite-marks from the dirty little rodent.

Pets: Zach's not an animal person. He'd probably end up mistreating it for fun. He likes having control over other, smaller things.

Likes:
- His status at school
- His athletic ability
- Control
- Parties
- Girls

Dislikes:
- His father
- His spazoid of a step-brother
- His studies
- Loss of control
- People who are bigger, stronger, or more popular than he is

History:

Andrew Harvey and Jacqueline Holland were high school sweethearts. Of course, they were that couple. Andrew, a star hockey player, and Jacqueline, the most popular girl in school, were soon parents. She was knocked up at the age of 17 and he was struggling to support her. Her family disowned her, his family was poor... it was a recipe for disaster. Soon they were raising Zach in a run-down little house on the edge of town.

Zach grew up in poverty. His mother was a druggie, and his father worked in construction, only to be fired when he was discovered drinking on the job. They barely got by each week. Often, Zach would steal food for himself, going hungry at home. At the age of 10, he fell into a partnership with some other kids on the street. Over the years, they became pretty close. They were loyal to each other- street kids sticking together. There was one boy in particular who Zach was very close too. His name was Harry. One day, when they were both 14, Harry got involved with a gang. It was only natural that Zach went along with him. The gang would be like a family- it would protect them, watch their back, give them food... It seemed to be the perfect solution. Besides, Harry's older brothers were already part of it: they'd be welcomed. It was harmless enough, too. All they did was steal...

It was November. The streets were cold, and Zach and Harry were shivering behind a dumpster.

"This is where we're supposed to meet him, right?" Zach asked, rubbing his hands together for warmth.

"Yeah, this is where we're supposed to-"

"Hey!" The sharp whisper came from back down the alley in which they stood. The two boys could barely make out the hooded figure of a young man. "Well, come on!" He gestured for them to come over. Hesitating for but a second, they did. Up close they could make out the features of an african-american man. Actually, he was more of a boy than a man. He was maybe 17 or 18 years old- 19 at most.

"You Harry and Zach?" He asked. They nodded. A wide grin broke out on his face. "Nice to meet'cha. I'm Patrick- but most people just call me Ricky." Ricky looked around. "Alright, follow me." Without another word, Ricky was off. He sped down the network of alleyways, Zach and Harry barely able to keep up. After about five minutes, he slowed down. They were hiding behind a stack of empty wooden crates near the back of a small market. It was nearly nine-o-clock, and the place looked deserted.

"So you want to get into our little society? Go in there and rob the place. You do a good job and maybe Freddie will consider you," Ricky said. Although, his good-natured smile was still in place. "Good luck, fellas." Meet me back near that dumpster with the money when your finished." Ricky started running back from where they had come, easily melting into the shadows. Harry smiled nervously at Zach.

"Here we go, then." The two of them snuck up to the back door. It had a simple lock- Harry could get in easy. His brother Justin taught him how to pick locks like this about a year back. He was even nice enough to lend Harry his kit just for tonight. Within five minutes, they were in. The door swung open with a creak. Even though no one was in the shop, Zach still cringed.

They had entered through the back room. Extra stock was kept back here. As tempting as it was to grab as much as he could carry and get out, that was not the point of tonight. They were supposed to get into the register. Prove themselves worthy to be Jacks. That was the name Freddie had come up with for the small gang of thieves. He had got it from that old kid's rhyme: "Jack be nimble, Jack be quick". Basically the code of every good pickpocket and thief.

Once they were into the main room of the shop, it was easy to get to the cash register. Harry opened it without a problem, and began putting the money into his jacket pockets.

"Don't worry, Zach. This'll just take a minute-" Suddenly the lights came on.

"What in the devil are you doing here!" Harry and Zach jumped, and turned to the storeroom door. Standing there was an old man. Clearly the owner of the tiny grocery. Zach opened his mouth to say something, but then his eyes landed on the gun in the man's hands.

"Don't make one move!" The man yelled, pointing the gun at them.

"Harry-"

"I SAID DON'T MOVE!" Harry was shaking. This was bad. He had a gun, for crying out loud!

"Sir, I'm so sorry-"

"DON'T!" The blast of a gun shot shattered the quiet of the evening. Harry clutched at his stomach, shocked. Blood was already soaking his shirt. He had been reaching into his pocket, no doubt to try and give back the money, and the man had shot him. Harry's eyes fluttered shut and he fell heavily to the ground.

"NO!" Zach screamed in anguish. Before he knew what he was doing, he was rushing the old man. He collided with him hard, knocking the gun out of his hands. The old man looked shocked, as if he didn't know what he had done. But Zach did not see that in his rage. The man had murdered his best friend. No, his brother. And he deserved to die too.

Zach grabbed the gun and began bashing it into the old man's head. The poor shop keeper fought the boy on top of him, but he was far too old, and Zach was young and strong. Soon, the man was unconscious. But Zach didn't stop. He kept smashing the butt of the gun into his head... until he noticed that the old man had stopped breathing. Blood was running down the man's temple, where the blows of the gun had opened up a wound. The old man was dead. Dead. Zach stood up and backed away. What did he do?

But Zach could only run to Harry. The boy was in a puddle of his own blood. Zach could barely here the rasping breath coming from his mouth.

"Harry? Harry! Come on, man!" Sobs broke through in Zach's voice. Harry's eyes cracked open.

"Zach? Why, Zach?" Harry whispered. With one final breath, Harry died.

"HARRY! No! NO!" Zach shook his friend's body. He finally gave up, breaking down into tears. "I don't know why, Harry. Why'd he do it? Why you?" Zach bit his lip hard. "I killed him for you, Harry. I've avenged you..."


That night, something inside Zach died with Harry. He ran from the scene of the crime, hiding away in some strange part of town. He kept repeating one thing to himself: "I've avenged you, Harry". From there, Zach convinced himself he did the right thing. The old man became a monster in his memory- a ruthless killer that murdered his best friend. He also convinced himself of something else. Everyone was against him. People would stab you in the back at the first opportunity. People would kill innocents like Harry for no reason whatsoever. The only way to survive in this world was to become a killer yourself.

The day after the robbery gone wrong, someone found him. Said his name was Erik. He also said he heard what Zach had done... And he wanted him to join his gang. Erik's support of Zach's killing only reenforced his idea that you needed to fight, cheat and lie to be successful. From there, Erik took Zach under his wing. Introduced him to the Vipers and made him a member. Soon enough, Zach was dealing drugs, mugging people, and the like. He became Erik's favorite. Even though he was quite young, he had respect. He was devoted to his gang, and was proud to be a member. In fact, he even got a tattoo on the back of his right shoulder to signify his membership.

Some time during Zach's time as a Viper, his mother finally pulled herself together. His father had left them long ago, too drunk to do any good. His mother, who finally seemed to realize that she needed to do something, cleaned herself up and went out looking for a husband... And she found one. For all that she had been through, Jacquelyn was still quite beautiful. Before he knew it, Zach was part of a "real family". But he would never be the same. The tattoo was a constant reminder of what he had learned. No mercy- it was either kill or be killed. He was doing this for Harry. He had to live for the both of them now.

Relationship: Zach is always able to get girls. He can barely remember their names, he goes through so many. He's never been in a serious relationship.

Other: Hidden beneath his t-shirt, Zach wears a cross. It's a small, silver pendant that hangs from a pretty chain. It used to be Harry's. It was the only valuable thing he had owned. Zach wears it at all times. Zach always wants control of a situation. All his life, he's felt as if he's had none. Life just pushed him around and f**ked everything up for him. Whenever he feels he's behind the wheel, he feels safer. And bullying and mistreating others? A habit from being in a gang. If you didn't assert yourself as the head honcho, you were going to be somebody else's bitch. Zach would not do that. Zach also has trust issues. Because he feels as if the world is out to get him, he does not trust anyone. His "friends" are just cronies. People he can manipulate. No one's very close to him, or knows what he's done in the past. His mother does know that he was mixed up in some bad stuff, but she never knew that he killed a man.

So begins...

Zach Holland's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Zach Holland
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

There's nothing like the sound of an alarm clock on the first day of school.

Beep! Beep! BEEP! With each sharp sound, the alarm seemed to get angrier, trying in vain to rouse its owner. At last, Peter Byrne cracked open his eyes. With a practiced swing of the arm, he silenced the tiny machine, very nearly knocking it off the table.

"Unngh..." Peter groaned, burying his face into the pillow. A soft squeaking sounded next to his ear. When Peter didn't respond, he felt a sharp bite on his earlobe.

"Fine, fine, I'm up!" Peter rolled ungracefully out of his bed. He grabbed the glasses sitting on the beside table and put them on, sharpening blurred colors into focused lines and planes. Sitting triumphantly on Peter's pillow was Truman. Despite the impossibility of it, Peter could've sworn the rat was grinning.

"Thank you ever so much, Truman. You cannot imagine my gratitude," Peter grumbled. Stretching, he yawned. Time for his glorious return to the wretched purgatory that was high school. Of course, East Shore had it's own brand of foulness that was all its own. But he found his own little bright spots. Life was never bad enough that you couldn't find something to smile at. Scooping up a random shirt from where it laid on the floor, Peter pulled it over his nude torso. He did the same with a pair of jeans, smelling them before deeming them fit for public wear.

"*Ikimashou!" Peter picked up Truman and walked out of his room. The house was silent- as it should be at 6:30. Zach usually woke up around 7:50, coercing Jackie into driving him to school. Of course, he was always at least 10 minutes late anyway. Peter usually left early. He liked having time on his own. As quietly as possible, Peter snuck down the stairs. At the door he picked up his messenger bag and fedora. He was on his way.

Mornings really weren't that bad. After you get through the whole "waking-up" thing, that is. In fact, it was beautiful. There was a peacefulness in the early hours that fled once the day truly began. Peter walked happily down the sidewalk, watching the pavement in front of him. He liked to find the grass growing between the cracks. Of course, he could only do this for a couple minutes before his mind wandered again. There was always something to think about wasn't there?

He spent the rest of the morning walking about, laughing at lawn gnomes and staring at the pinkish hue of the sky. All at once, his watch beeped. 7:40. He should start walking to school. He had almost forgot he had it. He sighed. Where had the summer gone?

"Right. Truman you know the drill. Inconspicuous, remember?" Peter said once they were just around the corner from East Shore. He dropped his rat into his messenger bag, despite the squeak of protest. With a deep breath, he went to face his high school.

The noise was as solid as a wall. Hundreds of kids were milling about, all talking with evident enthusiasm. It was easy to see the cliques. The hierarchy was as clear as day. There were the alphas, all crowded together in one tight group. Peter always had the habit of calling them the "Pretty People". Was it just him, or were all populars too attractive? Upon initiation, did they all sign a waver stating that they must look like Abercrombie models at all times? It was a mystery to him. Of course, he never made an attempt at looking good. Peter raised a hand to his cheek, feeling the rough stubble. He probably should have shaved...

Far across the parking lot, Peter could see the nega-version of the in crowd. The smart, awkward kids, the goths, the stoners... Ah, the familiar faces. Peter almost felt like laughing. It was like he had never left. Of course, there were the new kids too. You could spot 'em easily enough. They were the nervous, antsy-looking ones. Alone and hesitant. Peter would introduce himself... but it wasn't very fair of him. Why drag some unsuspecting kid down to his level? Best leave them to work themselves as high up on the social ladder as they could. Besides, at this rate he'd be late for English class.

Peter worked his way through the crowd of kids, headed towards the door. However, he did make a slight detour to avoid getting to close to the Pretty People. His darling stepbrother, Zach, would never miss an opportunity to shoot an insult his way. Once inside the school, Peter relaxed a bit. He was looking forward to English. It was his best class after all. Books in hand, he began walking to the correct hallway. The bell rang and Peter sped up a bit. He entered the classroom just behind a shorter boy with jet black hair.

The class started off as it usually did on the first day of school. Introduction to the course, and all that. Mrs. Tyme, the resident English teacher, then told them that they're first assignment of the year with a paper. A chorus of groans followed this proclamation, but Peter didn't mind. He loved to write. The paper was to be on a current issue in society. A piece of paper was being handed from desk to desk. Each student was supposed to pick a topic from the given list. This way everyone would be able to write about something different. The paper passed to the seat in front of Peter, given to the dark-haired boy he saw earlier. He seemed to be having a hard time with the topic.

“Yo, kid! You gonna tell everyone what your topic is?" A girl (Aidan, Peter remembered) called out from the other side of the classroom. Peter watching as the boy checked something off without a word then handed the paper to the seat to his right. Peter frowned. Something was wrong with him. He didn't know what... but he knew it was something.

The list of topics travelled across the room until it stopped at Aidan's desk. She made a face at the piece of paper.

“This is boring. Really. Bulimia. Anorexia. Abortion. Gay Marriage. It’s been done before. Obviously we know that there are popular trends in the media now, things to make us all…" she looked pointedly at a boy sitting near her, "willing to vote for the best politician that can spew his lies. But this is an English class, Mrs. Tyme. Shouldn’t you be teaching about Literature? Prepping us for some big state test? Anything else instead of making us write stupid papers? I mean, it’s the start of the new year, and you’re starting us off with a paper? Are you new to teaching, or just stupid?” Aidan stood up, taking her bag with her. “Look. I’m sure that you’re great, but honestly, when you start wanting to teach something that has to do with your subject, and not based on something that is better done in our Civics course, let me know.” With that, Aidan made for the door, leaving Mrs. Tyme gaping like a fish out of water.

Although, Peter had to admit Aidan had a point. But he felt bad for Mrs. Tyme. Taking pity on the teacher, he raised his hand.

"Mrs. Tyme? Maybe we should have a short break to discuss topics?" Peter offered. The english teacher only nodded, fingers rubbing her temples. Immediately the class fell to senseless noise. Peter tapped the shoulder of the raven-haired kid in front of him. He looked sort of pale.

"Hey, are you okay?"

[*Ikimashou- pronounced eeki-mah-sho, it means "Let's go" in Japanese.]