HOLMES, EDWARD

[EDWARD HOLMES]

HELLO MY NAME IS EDWARD HOLMES AND I AM SIXTEEN YEARS OLD. I'M A HUMAN AND I'M A DERELICT AND I WAS BORN ON 4/11/1869 IN ENGLAND. MY NATIONALITY IS BRITISH. PEOPLE SAY I LOOK LIKE GASPARD ULLIEL. THEY ALSO SAY THAT I AM COMMANDING, HARD-HEADED, VEHEMENT, AND IMPETUOUS. TO BE HONEST, I'M BEING PLAYED BY NELLO.

CODEWORD: -admin edit-

ROLE PLAY SAMPLE:

It was halfway through first period before Leo finally dragged his ass through the front entrance of the school and headed to his locker. Typical day. Like usual. He smothered a yawn as he twirled the combination lock, vowing to get at least five hours of sleep that night and wake up on time the next morning. It was a hollow promise. He knew that he'd be up till midnight playing video games or hacking internet sites, like usual. Typical night. Life was just so boring lately... Hello, what's this?

There was a slip of paper in his locker. Leo rolled his eyes, stubborn dark brows knit in a frown. When would these teenage babies learn that "I hate you" notes in his locker was so totally done that it was just laughable? Honestly, grow up. But... It appeared to not be a hate note. Huh, shocker. Curious, the blonde unfolded the sheet and caught a glimpse of neat, girlish handwriting. Before he could read what it said, his experience-trained ears picked up the sound of the Vice Principal's heels clicking against the linoleum of the hallway. He stashed the note in the pocket of his jeans and traded his motorcycle gear for an armful of textbooks and binders, heading up the stairs to avoid yet another truancy.

It was only after he slid into a seat in his second-period class that he realized he had grabbed the wrong textbooks. Fantastic. He tipped his chair back and looked out the window, declaring the class a waste without his materials and planning on sleeping through it. In the awkward position, he felt a folded corner of paper prick him through the thin lining of the pocket of his jeans. Remembering the surprise he found in his locker, he set his chair back on all fours and fished out the note, probably more eager than he should have been to read what it said.

His good mood had evaporated by the time he read the first word. Or rather, name. Ugh, Matt. Leo lifted his head to shoot a glare across the room at the unsuspecting Matthew. That prick? Couldn't the girl have been a little more original? Every girl in the school wanted Matt. Pick a number, girl. Caitlin. Cailin. Whatever. The name didn't ring a bell. Unsurprising, given that the female student body generally avoided him like the plague. The only ones who had tried to interact with him had been expecting a guy who fit the image of his delinquent reputation. They were all sorely disappointed, and called him a poser before leaving in a huff. Yeah, Leo didn't have a great track record with girls. Sometimes they just seemed like a different species.

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