* RICHARDSON, jasper grey

[Jasper Richardson]

VALKYRIE,
CALIFORNIA

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the ocean breathes salty, won't you carry it in?



So give me something to believe
'Cause I am living just to breathe[/font][/center]


WHEN THE OCEAN MET THE SKY ,[/color]
CHARACTER BASICS ,
you missed when time and life shook hands and said goodbye[/color]

FULL NAME: Jasper Grey Richardson
NICKNAMES: none that he is fond of...
GENDER: male
AGE: a new year's baby who is almost nineteen!
UNIVERSITY YEAR:
MAJOR:
MINOR:
JOB: Odd jobs, here and there, but is a Siren for real.
PLAYBY: Luke Grimes <3

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YOUR BODY MAY BE GONE ,[/color]
CHARACTER APPEARANCE ,
i'm gonna carry you in my head, in my heart, in my soul[/color]

ETHNICITY: English, Sicilian & German
HAIR COLOR: medium brown, with natural golden brown high lights.
EYE COLOR: light brown
HEIGHT: Six feet, even.
WEIGHT:195 lbs
BODY TYPE:Tall, muscled but in a longer sense rather than a body builder one.
DISTINGUISHED FEATURES: When Jasper was sixteen he got a tattoo that says 'Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me. -Psalm 23:4' which was Jasper's mother's favourite quote from the bible. He also has slightly pointed ears, and was called 'elfie' affectionately by his mother.
PERSONAL STYLE: Jasper is the kind of man who doesn't put any formal consideration to his style. He rolls out of bed, clad in boxers and the occasional wife-beater, and mostly finds something clean to wear, though not in that unhygienic sort of way, more in a lazy sort. He usually sticks to the classic look, dark jeans, plain shirt and a leather jacket he's had since he was seventeen, his form of a safety blanket. However, despite his rugged attire accompanied by lightly coloured eyes and a slightly crooked but charming smile, Jasper does have a few suits in his closet. Sure those suits rarely ever see the light of day, but it is just comforting that he has such formal wear.
OTHER: he's pretty, even with his elf ears.

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IN YOUR MOUTH, IN YOUR SOUL ,[/color]
CHARACTER PERSONALITY ,
the more we move ahead the more we're stuck in rewind[/color]

STRENGTHS:* hand to hand combat * nearly perfect shot *cooking * maintaining his temper *his charming but vastly persuasive nature *playing the piano
WEAKNESSES: *Wendy Hughes *Liv Richardson
LIKES: *independent girls *antique guns *wine *parties *cooking *stars *pianos *silver *mountains *black and white photographs *showers
DISLIKES: * people unnecessarily invading his kitchen. *co-dependency *people who talk just to hear the sound of their voice *cats * Chicago *His father *vomit *fast food chains *dogs in purses *yelling
FLAWS:*becomes distant if something is bothering him *keeps things to himself until he comes to a boiling point *scars across his back and along the right side of his ribcage for when JR beat him. *untrusting, afraid of hurting people he cares about and afraid about being hurt *nearly recklessly dangerous *stubborn
HABITS: *Looks down then up when he is about to say something or ask something truly important * rests his hand on the back of his neck when nervous to do something * walks around his apartment with no shirt on *cooks to calm himself down
SECRETS: *in love with Wendy Hughes *wants a regular old life, wife, 2.5 kids, white picket fence, the works... But knows he will never be able to have it.
BEST MEMORY: Jasper is a man of few good memories, with the things he does, it's only natural. His most recent favourite memory, or more rather, a cluster of memories were with a Miss Wendy Hughes, but more commonly known as Widow. But the most cherished was when he was just ten years old. It was before she was known as 'The Black Widow' a time where things were simpler, if that was even possible, considering how they all were raised. It was the summertime, and a rare moment when it was just Wendy and Jasper, they were playing some game when Jasper started to make fun of Wendy. It was harmless fun, that of a ten year old sense... "Moira, Moira, Moira... you know you can't hide from your name Moira..." He said to her as she became flustered, he could remember how angry she got with him, "My name isn't Moira!" She yelled again and again, but Jasper just smiled, "But it is Moira, because Moira is a pretty girl's name." He nodded intently. They kept playing this game, her getting angrier and him, just smiling triumphantly when it happened. She kissed him, yelling at him to be quiet now and he did. It was an innocent kiss, a childlike kiss, something that meant nothing at the time and without his knowledge he fell in love with her that day.
WORST MEMORY: Jasper's worst memory was when his mother died and he was sent to live with his biological father
OVERALL PERSONALITY: Jasper isn't a man of many words, in fact, he is one of the most quietest of sirens. It isn't because he is afraid of anything, quite the opposite, really. However, the main reason behind his silent persona is simple; he talks when he has something to say. People who keep talking annoy him, those people who insist upon hearing the sound of their voice annoyed him. He prefers to listen rather than yammer on and on about things no one cares for. Another thing that contributes to his quiet demeanor is yelling. He doesn't care for it. The only thing yelling accomplishes is saying your point louder, doesn't prove it, just makes you sound like an obnoxious douche. Jasper can easily prove his point with a calm voice, which in fact intimidates people more because they expect him to go total apeshit crazy.

Speaking of anger issues, Jasper is more of the passive aggressive types. He locks his anger up, along with a lot of other things, his pent up rage has never exploded, as of yet. He has yet to get so angry, so fed up, something that was close to that boiling point was when his mother passed away all those many years ago. After that, Jasper never really bothered with this yelling rage bullshit, it did nothing to redeem either party of fault. It seemed to add guilt to the equation which was pointless. Nothing got resolved quickly with that. Besides, he didn't need anger to fuel him when he had to get family business done. What had to be done, had to be done.

Due to this nature, Jasper is very dangerous. With meticulously, almost obsessively planning his assignments, he has yet to fail at a job. As a siren henchman he's efficient, good at what he does. Wielding a weapon of mechanical or physical stature and 'taking care' of people comes almost naturally to him, to the point where Jasper should be concerned, but he isn't. Some people were just meant to do such dirty work, and like his old uncle used to say 'we all owe God a death'. Though Jasper stopped his faith in Big Guns upstairs, he understood the saying, took it upon himself to justify the things he has done. Because of this ambitious cruelty, it has led him to become very head strong, resilient to others suggestions. He is a stubborn fool, once he has his eyes set on something, there is no way in hell he is stopping without a fight. Adamant in every sense of the word, Jasper is almost spoiled with the things he can get done with his sense of determination and recklessness.

However, to balance his almost destructive behavior, Jasper is surprisingly kind, and very much protective of the handful of people he cares for. His loyalty to the few his cares for is for life, regardless of past, present or future. It seems natural for someone with his background to be entirely fucked up, but with Jasper, he gains his charm and kindness from his mother, something he has never forgotten about her. This part of him, also the tattoo inscribed on the left side of his ribcage, symbolizes to him the only remaining connection he has with Lily, his mother who he still regards with the highest of respect. He is compassionate to a certain extent, understanding even, if he can get past his own stubborn will. All in all, it almost seems as though Jasper is a hybrid of two people, two vastly different personae meshed into one; to become foils of each other within one body. Perhaps that is all part of his classic charm, something he somehow managed to genetically inherit from his father... The only thing it seems that bonds the father and son together.

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AND WE'LL BOTH GROW OLD ,[/color]
CHARACTER HISTORY ,
well i don't know, i don't know, i don't know, i hope so[/color]

HOMETOWN: Chicago, Illinois
PARENTS:Lily Hartwell and Elheric Richardson
SIBLINGS:Has plenty, but cares about Olivia only.
OTHER:
LIVING SITUATION: shaks, fo sho
HISTORY:Lillian Katarina Hartwell was one of those quiet girls who never did anything out of line ever. She went to school on time, did her chores and even made her English father and Sicilian mother proud when she was part of the church choir. Religion was a very big thing in the Hartwell family, with Sunday mass every Sunday and every Christmas at the cathedral. She had wonderfully innocent blue eyes, the ocean captured in her irises, with hair the colour of sunshine, bright and blonde. She had delicate features, her beauty understated. Overall, Lily was one of those girls you’d show your mother, the kind of girl you’d marry because of her wholesome family values. However, little Lily was a small town girl, with big break out dreams. She was ambitious, becoming a classically trained pianist at fourteen; she began to tour the world a few times over. She created a name for herself in the classical music world accompanied by a rather small cult following once she started to compose her own darkly entrancing sonatas. It was when she was just off of her tour, trying to relax and get rid of nagging jet lag like every seventeen year old would want when she met him under a fog of cigar smoke, some alcohol and a fake id. It was at a dark smoky bar, just for fun she was playing around at the piano with smooth tunes. The piano came so naturally to her, it almost scared her. It was at the end of her shift she was covering for a friend when he approached her, introducing himself with his last name and last name only. He was much older than she, but “Richardson, call me Rich” had almost that George Clooney charm; aging gracefully, chivalrous manners and with the most vivid honey brown eyes she had ever seen. Maybe it was the alcohol mixed with the feeling of fearlessness, danger and curiosity; it was something that led her to wake up naked in a cheap motel room alone.

It was a few days before she was to go back on the road when she found out. Lately, Lily had been feeling a little ill, always dismissing it with an upset stomach or what not until she started to vomit which led her to the doctor’s office. After a blood test and odd questioning, it was confirmed, Lilian was pregnant. What, say again? She wouldn’t believe the fact, simply because to have a baby one would have to have had sex and as far as she knew she…wasn’t a virgin any longer. Rich completely slipped her mind. However, it wasn’t the new life growing inside of her that alarmed her, but rather that she had to tell her parents that terrified her more. It was an awful conversation, her mother weeping, her father yelling about the mistake fruiting inside her and how it was the death of her musical career. In the heat of the argument, while her parents began to talk about ‘taking care of the problem,’ Lily stormed off, never to return to that household again. They did not understand, they weren’t the seventeen year old trying to hide the evidence that she was carrying some forty-something’s child she didn’t even know the name of… They weren’t the seventeen year old who faced the decisions of aborting it, giving it up or accepting it… Lily knew she would regret the decision of ‘taking care of the problem’ and she sure as hell knew that she would never be strong enough to give up her child… Wondering where her child would be, wondering, and anticipating… that would kill her. So now, she was going to somehow become a mother. With the small fortune she accumulated with her touring, she began to prepare for her baby. After spending a month in a cheap motel room, she found an inexpensive apartment over the exact same bar where she had met Rich.

It was during the end of the Christmas holidays, encroaching onto the New Year’s when the violent pains began to erupt at her sides, labour was beginning. In the early hours of January first, Jasper Grey Richardson was born, a new year’s baby indeed. From the moment the nurse slid him into her arms, Lily loved her son insurmountably, no matter how he was conceived. It was Jasper and Lily alone, together. He was a quiet baby, a quality Jasper would inherit once again in his life, rarely crying or fussing. He was an easy child to take care of, especially with the baby sitters once Lily had to pick up a job as a measly secretary at a Chicago law firm, though her musicals ambitions were never quite smothered. In the evenings she taught piano, occasionally grabbing a shift at the bar downstairs. Once things settled into a regular schedule, Lily even began to teach Jasper everything she knew once he was four. Though they didn’t have much, Jasper preferred this life, its simplicity obviously taken for granted. However, it was when Jasper was eight, tragedy struck.

It was a cold night in the outskirts of Chicago, a little too icy even for the best of drivers. It was a normal, routine Friday night for Lily and Jasper, dinner at her best friend’s home. It was tradition now. But as the evening progressed, so did the blustery snowfall, to which Lily shrugged off. Snow wasn’t something to be scared of. And so with Lily’s obduracy, both she and Jasper piled into their small car and began to drive home. A quarter of the way, Jasper’s eyelids became overly weighty, his blinking became awfully slow, but like his mother, he was stubborn. He would not fall asleep. He always loved to go home after a long day, hell; he just loved watching their cryptic apartment building in the windshield. Lily knew this and smiled as Jasper tried to fight it, she also knew how tiring running around and eating must be to an eight year old. “Sweetheart, you can fall asleep, I’ll wake you once we’re in the city,” she spoke softly as she ran her hand gently through his dirty blonde, nearly brown hair. Eventually, after much resistance, Jasper repositioned himself in his seat while his mother whispered, “Angels are watching over you,” as he fell asleep to the last words his mother would ever say to him.

Rain was a beautiful thing, it had the ability to wash away nearly everything; filth, grime, negative emotions. It even masked sadness, Jasper’s tears and the sounds of sympathy colliding with pity. As the reverend ended the funeral and his mother’s coffin was lowered into the ground, people in various shades of black proceeded to give their sympathies as Jasper just stood there; paying no attention to the overused ‘I’m so sorry for your loss’ bits. The rain splashed on the ground with more force as he stood there beside a few of his mother’s friends, soaking him through to his chest, underneath his white dress shirt. However it was the realization that he was alone that hit him harder than the rainfall at his mother’s service. Somehow at the tender age of eight he knew he had changed. He preferred to be quiet now, staying in his room most of the time. But it was a few months after Lily’s funeral and a court order later that Jasper was to be relocated into the care of a father he never knew existed.

Elheric Richardson was a man of great respect, he didn't need to demand what was already at his fingertips. He was charming and manipulative, head of the Richardson Family, the third family in command of the Sirens. We all know of them, know of their underground power, based in Chicago, where Elheric lives to this day. He was born and raised here, the business was originated here. Richardson was the father of many children, from many mothers, love wasn't needed to create a soldier for the Siren army. And so when one dark and stormy night he was presented with an eight year old son he didn't know existed, it was another recruit to him. From then onwards began Jasper's training, under the instruction of his older brothers and sisters. Sometimes Elheric would oversea how he was doing, but moreover he needed to boy to be strong, resilient to the beating and cruelty that was thrown to him by his siblings. Must be cruel to be kind, and survival was Elheric's gift of kindness to this boy.

The building of a soldier never ceased, despite the little bumps that came his way. It was when Jasper was almost ten when his true colours flooded through. He was home from school, about to put down his backpack when he heard crying, soft muffled tears. He followed the sound, the house oddly quiet for once in a long time. In a small closet underneath the staircase, hidden behind forgotten clothing was Liv, a mere six years of age, sobbing in the corner. With her small, fragile body, he cleaned her wounds, his face crumpled in anger. It was one of the few times he felt rage, an uncommon feeling. She was just six years old, she didn't know the difference between what was right and wrong, much less than being right all the time and make one wrong step just resulted in a horrible beating. Eventually he found out it was their fifteen year old brother who had done the deed... It was over her childish stubbornness, their brother couldn't take it. That was no reason to hit a child. Jasper could be thrown around as the family punching bag, but this was ridiculous. After kissing Livie's wounds, he threw his bag by the door, going down to the basement to their brother John's room. He didn't bother to knock, but instead he spun his computer chair around and hit him square on the nose.

The after effects of that swift punch to a broken nose resulted in Jasper's left arm to break clean in two places, but somehow he didn't care. He cared a vast amount for his little sister, one of the few he cared for then and now. He was protective, and to this day was one of those stereotypical brothers who would kill any dumb-ass who hurt their little sisters, to save them. However, Liv wasn't the only one he was determined to protect, there was someone else whom he found to be of equal, if not more importance. Her name was Wendy, a name most have forgotten with the exception of Jasper. Now known as Widow, he remembers her kindness, the way her eyes lit up with innocence, the way they shared a kind kiss his first summer as a siren. He always knew a she was something special, something he yearned for even at a young age when he didn't understand. However, because of this innocence, their innocence, he was punished, just like he was punished for protecting Olivia. Though protection for his younger sister resulted in one broken arm, this was more severe.

It was a harmless childhood friendship that bordered an light relationship; holding hands, another awkward but soft kiss... Childlike feeling. But such reasoning was moot point when Darren jr., Wendy's father, found out of Wendy and Jasper. Darren jr was next in line to head the Sirens, because of this birthright, there was no questioning his motives, good or bad. He was free to do what he pleased and Jasper and Wendy was something he was not pleased with. Jasper can't remember much of that day, he blackout halfway through the beating, floating in and out of consciousness, bloody and broken. JR. was a monster, there wasn't much hope for Jasper to defend himself, Jr. rage was unbeatable. Jasper was left with a broken body, and numerous scars across his back and side to remind him eternally of something or rather someone he will never attain. Just like the broken arm didn't stop him from protecting Liv, these scars and dangling on a lifeline didn't stop this feeling he had about Wendy, whenever he was around her. He couldn't make this feeling stop, no matter if he was torn from limb to limb.

His growing up was relatively unchanged, the most fucked up of households, but he seemed to turn out somewhat normal despite a few key things. It was when he was fifteen when he had his first kill, something that he had remembered. It only made sense to remember the first one, just like remembering his first fling. It was only common nature to do so. He justified his first kill with odd snippets, that he was a bad man and so on, but Jasper felt something sink in his stomach. He wasn't much better than the corpse lying in front of him; he was a monster if not worse now. Though he has killed more over the years, it was his first kill that he had felt a pang of guilt for killing, for taking away a life. After that, the others didn't seem to stir the pang of guilt, but moreover, they sank to the pit of his stomach of feeling guilty for not feeling guilty for the things he had done. How fucked was that?

Jasper became a very skilled fighter, a dead on shoot, and excellent hand to hand combat skills. This aided in his meticulous planning, hell he even knew all the pressure points in the body to leave someone paralyzed, finding new ways of eradicating the light in his 'assignment's' eyes. However, in the midst of staining his hands with a plethora of murdered souls, he managed to pay a homage to his mother, hopefully she would be able to understand what he had become. It was the day she had died when he went into the tattoo parlour, a mere sixteen years of age, graduate of high school at a young age, a piece of paper in hand. In it was scrawled a small quote, his mother's favourite quote out of the bible, written in her hand. It was something that was tucked away in his things, something he saved, reminding him of her. The tattoo artist was truly an artist, replicating his mother's beautiful hand writing onto his left ribcage, the words 'Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me. -Psalm 23:4' inscribed rather permanently to his side. Though he didn't believe in God or life after death, he believed this was somehow a permanent connection, something that wouldn't fad unlike the yellowed piece of paper in his hand, with his mother.

It was around this time when he left Chicago, doing more out of town assignments rather than local ones. He had to get out, Chicago becoming suffocated despite its size and population. However, the death of Darren JR. caused a rumble through out the entire pack of Sirens, no matter where they were. It was Liz who had the balls to kill him. It was around the time news circulated that Liz was also taken care of that Jasper met up with his little sister Liv after a long period on the road. She wouldn't leave his side now, once she had caught him after how long on the road, becoming elusive of most family and what not. He had no plans of going to Valkyrie California, but when he heard that Wendy Widow was there... Jasper was suspicious. He knew of her hatred of Liz, of course she would want to partake in her downfall, but the job was done, what was still doing there? He was curious, a little worried, but curious... Not believing what Liv took in with her reasoning that Jasper liked her or anything. That was silly, they were kids back then... Now they were two different people, so different that thoughts like that were nearly toxic, even if Jasper himself subconsciously thought them.

People say that curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back, and so Jasper was now the cat, wondering why in the world Sirens were still in Valkyrie. With Liv in the passenger seat, Jasper made the trip within a day, even managing to get an apartment easily enough, for something told him he would be here for a while. Though Liv still nags him that the reason Jasper drove halfway through the country was for someone rather than something, Jasper just wants the truth, that being his reasoning to be in Valkyrie since he knew the way things worked; something he needed to know about this prolonged presence of the Sirens in the seaside city. Who knows, he might uncover something greater than what he was expecting.

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COLLECTED MY BELONGINGS ,[/color]
ABOUT YOU AND FOR THE ADMINS ,
and i left the jail, well thanks for the time[/color]

YOUR NAME:gurmanzilla, gurms, midnight amiga, gurmsy... you pick.
GENDER:ovaries FTW!
AGE:eighteen, and oh so grown up!
RP EXPERIENCE:three and a half? I dunno, I stopped counting after I found vside.
OTHER CHARACTERS: audrey, matteo, hunter, isaac, fairuza
ROLEPLAY EXAMPLE:

meh.

credit: format by lainey, lyrics by modest mouse

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[Haley Summers]

okay, so he's amazing, you're amazing, all the normal business but seriously, his best memory made me AWW outloud and get a funny look from my roomie, lol.

Accepted!

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