DRAKE, ALISTAIR TYLER

[alistair]

alistair tyler drake.

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/ i want to voice this out loud

full name. Alistair Tyler Drake
stage name. Alistair Drake
nicknames. Ali, or Drae never Al
age & dob. Twenty Five , September twenty sixth , nineteen eighty five
gender. Male
sexual orientation. Heterosexual
career. Film actor
hometown. Chicago, IL, now he calls LA home


/ it's therapeutic somehow

height. 5' 9½" (1.77 m)
eyes. Blue
hair. Dark Brown
build. Slim but muscular
distinguishing features. One tattoo a symbol on the inside of his arm, no scars of notice ... yet.
play-by. Jared Leto


/ so i'm moving to new york

loves.

hates.

quirks. Paces a room in a figure eight when he is on the phone. Has to be in the exact same position every night to fall asleep. Gets superstitious about his clothing, will throw something out if something negative happened in it. Reads the end of a book first so he doesn’t get anxious about how it will end. Reads lines with his i-pod on sitting in an empty bath. Alphabetizes everything when he gets angry or annoyed to avoid violent tendencies.
aspirations. Short term would be to get a steady job or money in the bank. For his father to take him seriously as an actor and for the film industry to follow. Large Goals for Alistair would be to be financially set in a place where he doesnt have to worry, to get to work doing what he loves and pick and choose the films and shows he wants to do because of his passion for them, not his need to have a roof over his head. Settling down .... all of that domestic bliss life, just doesnt rate highley for him. That isnt to say it wouldnt change but at the moment its all about the dream.
secrets. Besides his highley disfunctional family that from the outside looks like a hallmark christmas card from stepford hell? Well lets see, you can take your pick, from telling people that he failed out of his University courses where he was majoring in Buisness when in truth he quit. Then there is the dependancy for sleeping pills that didnt seem to be as bad before he moved to LA, and yet is still deeply in denial about. There is also his general fear of small spaces and a history of high anxiety that has been treated ... for now he believes.
personality evaluated.

Do you ever look at someone and wonder how they turned into the person they are today? Looked at them beyond the superficial underneath the pretty pretty exterior, really looked at them. At all of their history all of their past, their background, their family, their friends, their girlfriends and wondered how this came through? How this person who is so far from what they once where came to the surface and how you never noticed that this person was below all that time you thought you knew them. That is Alistair Drake. Aesthetically completely the person that he has always been but personality wise almost unrecognisable now to the people he grew up with. And that isn’t a bad thing, it could be to some, maybe the ones who preferred the way he was before but it isn’t a bad thing to him. It’s like sitting in the dark for years surrounded by people who never talk about anything real and then someone turns on the light. And for the first time you see.

Alistair is most commonly described by most as a book, because you only get so much at any one time. Everyone sees the cover but how far into the book you get depends on him and depends on how willing you are to wade through all his bullshit. In saying this he is surprisingly diverse and intelligent far more so than people are lead to believe at first glance. Generally speaking Alistair tries to be a nice guy 80..... No more like 65% of the time. On the inside of his head he is trying to be nice and majority of the time succeeding, whether it actually comes out that way is a very different story. See in the mind of Alistair Drake he follows only one rule consistently, that you are to do the right thing. The only problem is that within that mind he has set his own ideas for what is right and what is wrong. So when he is speaking his mind passionately and completely honestly with an unashamed bluntness and disregard for other people’s feelings, the outcome of his words or how it will affect the situation that to him is right. That isn’t to say he sets out to hurt people, not the case. It’s more that in doing the right thing for him at the right time he generally tends to piss others off and he just doesn’t care.

Coming with the trait of speaking your mind tends to also come the take no crap from anyone trait that isn’t new to him at all but has come in handy far more within the industry and his personal life than it ever had before. To be strong within a family like his you have to have a bold personality and little tolerance for the things you dislike and even less for putting up with them without a verbal bashing or showdown. To be strong within the industry that he has chosen you have to have a dual trait. Water of the ducks back, don’t let anything sink in. Don’t give a shit don’t let it get to you, shrug it off and keep walking, don’t take the comments to heart because they have no heart in them. The second is to know when to stand your ground. There are always going to be people who try and pull you down it is inevitable in any career path but even more so this one. While like most males he does have violent tendencies Alistair tends to use argument more than most people should. His chosen style of arguing is not to stand there and bitch and moan, instead armed with a forked tongue, harsh words, a lack of conscience and a bag of sarcasm he can be a formidable person to come up against. It does however loose you friends, which while not favourable is something that Alistair is willing to deal with. Just a risk worth taking in his mind that settles the idiots from the idols.

While Alistair likes to take a certain pride in his appearance and that of his things, he isn’t an overly flashy person who spends his money on material things. Granted he has them, you don’t see him walking around naked do you? Okay that time didn’t count, he was drunk. But he isn’t spending outside of his means, he doesn’t get his nails done, he has never touched a sun bed, he gets his hair cut and never coloured he doesn’t get his chest waxed and he rarely spends more than 20 minutes to get ready including a shower, he isn’t ‘that’ guy in this industry and if he has to be then it’s not going to happen. He doesn’t often let people’s opinions on him reflect through his actions, he isn’t going to do something just because others are or because he is trying to achieve a status and is definitely not one to follow the crowd. Preferring to go in another direction alone if it means doing what he wants verse what people want him to do. In fact from time to time regardless of whether he wants to do what his friends are or not he can often be found alone. You spend your entire life surrounded by people and tell me you don’t want to shut out all of the noise sometime.

Alistair isn’t an irrational person but has a very low tolerance for people who lack common sense and tend to just be overly stupid. Offcourse with this he can often come across as an asshole a title he has claimed and proudly worn since he was 17. One of the few labels he doesn’t mind wearing at all. When it comes to relationships he had a very open view of them. His father’s affair that almost killed his mother, their drawn out long divorce his pre-adolescent new wife, yes he sees relationships as open alright. It isn’t that he is broken or that he needs to be fixed something allot of girls feel they need to do, he simply doesn’t believe in love yet. Yes he knows it exists and challenges anyone to find it and bring it to him but for now he is the way he is. He believes that a fling is just a fling, that there are right people for the right moments in life and when those moments end they just end, you don’t need to try and psycho analyse it, you don’t need to fix it you just need to accept it and move on. There are people that you spend the night with, some not even the whole night, there are relationships that last a few years and can never be true love. When it happens he will know but until then he isn’t invested in trying to find it or being that open to it if it does. But who knows right? You can never say never.

Saying that Alistair is complex is an understatement but he isn’t the same as most guys, no one is the same. What is normal these days anyway? He didn’t know he wanted to do this his whole life, he fell in loved it and stayed but that doesn’t make him any less worthy. He isn’t that Hollywood guy that is throwing himself in every movie and maybe if he was he would be further along than he is who knows. But he is that type of guy that would rather turn down something he hated and go hungry than have to sit and watch crap he wouldn’t if he was not in it. With an over abundance of confidence that helps him be blissfully unaware of the world around him he rarely worries about much. Yes he does have concerns and problems, but those everyone has so why must we digress them over and over? Alistair is the guy that got sidetracked on the path to a life that was his father’s dream and not his own, who breaks rules by following his own and who has a fierce loyalty for the friends he has, the ones he loves and an utter lack of care in all the bullshit in between.

/ i've got issues with my sleep

father. Ryden Tomas Drake, 56 , University Proffessor.
mother. Adelaide Saera Grange , 46 , Runs her own Public Relations company.
siblings. Ryden Tristan Drake , 27 , Police Officer.
Seraphina Abigail Drake , 23 , Arts Student studying Drama.
pets. Augustine, Dog, lives with his mother
other family. Annabell Cohen , 35 , Public Relations, Step Mother
history evaluated.

• Born Alistair Tyler [ yes every male in the Drake family has a T middle name ] Drake. Was born in a private room in Chicago, IL on the Twenty six of September nineteen eighty five to Adelaide Grange and Ryden Drake. Both of whom where a rather unlikely match but seemed happy if not a marriage of convienience. Had one older brother who did not take to well to having a new baby brought into the house let alone another boy. Was followed shortly after by his Sister who was in the fateful words of his father ' a mistake '

• Growing up never had to worry financially about anything was what you would call on the wealthier side of things was put into Private schools and while never had it laboured over him that he had to achieve certain grades it was a standard set by his father and older brother and was meant to be maintained something that Alistair struggled but managed to do throughout his earlier schooling. Mother worked long hours trying to get her Public Relations company up off the ground and father was always abscent or spending nights working at the University.

• Was sent for his high school years to a local Private school before being expelled for ' undisclosed reasons ' Thanks to his fathers humiliation at his sons failure, he was then sent to board at The Hotchkiss School just outside of New York to keep him far enough away from his father so he didnt have to see his face. This was much to the delight of his brother who got to have the house to himself as well as their fathers favour. Finished school just scraping in by the teeth due to adapting to a new way of life, partying and the lack of parental supervision making that all the easier.

• Recieved a distraught call from his sister the day after graduation as he was packing to come back home. His father had been cheating on his mother for the past four years and when his mother confronted him about it he made a large display of things took his things and left her for his mistress, a much younger woman who had at one stage been his mothers assistant. Their mother had locked herself in her room for a week with a case of wine and then emerged as this bitch on heels that seemed completely unfeeling and uncaring. A woman to recon with but hardly the mother they knew, something that Alistair blames his father for completely.

• Was accepted to the University of Chicago to study Buisness, his life goals already firmly set out by his father and himself not in a mental state to try and alter them, at that time he just needed the stability of being told what to do, when and where and how, never the why. So doing what he was supposed to like always he moved back from boarding school spending only a few months at his mothers home before moving on campus and begining his studies Majoring in Buisness with a minor in Media and Communications despite not really knowing why he was studying it.

• Love of acting began when he was required to take an elective class to fullfill his course diversity and thanks to a rather attractive girl in the drama department took that direction. The love for her did not last, sadly, however what remained was a rather haunting need to get back to the stage, and back to acting something he had if he was being honest never really thought about before in his life.

• Stuggled with his Buisness Degree for the following 5 to six months before deciding that he would change and switch his major to Drama. Instead of telling everyone that it was a chosen move, something his father and family would not have agreed on he let everyone believe that he had failed out of Buisness and that the only way to remain at College was to switch to a lesser highly ranked and scored structure system of Drama.

• Father took the news not so favourably and attempted no less than four times to get him to transfer out to another school to take the year over and continue in buisness or defer to a teaching position something that he had done and was more than happy at. But unfortunately Alistairs mind was set and after getting a taste for a dream and a direction that could be his own and no his fathers was unmovable on the subject. His father refused to talk to him for four months, only giving in at Christmas when the family was forced to meet again.

• Was in a minor car accident involving his sister himself and two of their mutual friends while home on break after a party. It was one of their friends driving and while not completely drunk he had been drinking, possibly one of Alistairs stupidest choices every. Neither himself or his sister where majorly injured both taken to the hospital for minor scrapes and bruises, the other female passenger suffering a broken arm and needing 12 stitches in her head. But most of the damage was done when his father turned up and attempted to beat the shit out him when he was at the hospital giving him two broken ribs and a black eye. Alistair hasnt spoken to his father since, refuses to take his calls as few as they are.

• After doing the rounds of the Chicago stage in various plays found like most aspiring actors that if he wanted to make a name for himself and actually get out and live life he was going to have to either move to New York or the Los Angeles. Thanks to his father and his new 'wife ' living in New York and regardless of how large the city is and the fact that he could avoid them chose LA, an unlikely choice for him but one he threw himself into none the less.

• Already knew LA rather well thanks to having to travel out for various auditions but living there is completely different, a new ball game where you feel like your in competition with everyone even when your just getting coffee. A place where everyone is smiling like they think Starbucks PR department are scouting for their new ad its insane. Has done the bartender, waiter by day actor on the side thing but found his home doing part time admin and assistant work for radio stations and pr companies for cash thanks to his mothers connections and his previously failed but still accredited degree in Media and commiunications.

• Is going through the motions now of audition after audition and while it is never the ultimate goal or easy he wouldnt really be anywhere else doing anything else. Is looking for not so much his next big break but something that is right for him, is looking for something that gets him remembered not famous. Oh and having fun on that search doesnt hurt.

/ christmas came early for me

alias. emm
years of rp experience. over six years across various boards
other characters. None
how did you find us. Affiliate
roleplay sample.

The scene, rushing past outside the window a million miles an hour, Darian breathed it in. It didn’t matter how many times he was here it would never grow old. That smell, the distinct aroma of birch trees, snapped twigs , broken leaves and afternoon sunlight through a canopied expanse. Slow breaths in, deep and, reluctant to let them out. That feeling that you could not describe to someone. A feeling perhaps unique to himself alone. The breeze snaked its way through the open window of his beat up Chevy truck, pushing aside his locks and brushing his face. This was how you unwound. This was Providence. This was home. The hand that had been resting on the window sill raised effortlessly and wound its way lightly, fingertips circling through the air. Deep almond eyes on the road he stifled a yawn and attempted to focus on the road before him. A low rumble of the truck as it passed one winding corner after another and back again made him appreciate his job. Fights and flaws of the previous day, the hours that had come before now even, all seemed to fade away so quickly when you where no longer in the moment. There was a history here for him that he couldn’t avoid, nor did he want to or attempt to. A creek passed his window on the right and he help the smirk that lifted in the lower corner of his lips. First kiss. Past another bend and a paddock to the left. Frst drunken party landing the driver in question, face first in that intoxicating grass. The memories of its scent a little different then. Lying on the outskirts of the town it was easy to forget. Forget what the town held.

Easy to be naive to the dividing lines that ran through it. Invisible lines of social acceptance and defiance. Perfect timing he thought numbly to himself. Pulling the car to a momentary halt just outside the iron gates of Pembrooke University. Just people right? All the same huh? Maybe when he was younger it was, too young to know any different. Now, however... it was different. Everything was different. His thoughts, once so lucid, calm and complacent where suddenly filled with a mild distain. It was wrong of him to judge them, as they did him. Wrong to lump them all into one cohesive "we verse them " as if they where all the same. Stupid because he knew more than a handful of them and knew they were not like that. Selfish because if he had been given the chance to go ... maybe he would have been weak to take it himself. But there was part of him that couldn’t help but see them as the enemy. Perhaps it was the inner townie within him. Or just purely him? Easing his foot of the break he rolled forward. Leaving his bad thoughts and the school behind him.

As the truck slipped through the neat and quaint streets , the faint sounds of death cab for cutie no sunlight playing mildly, his mood was changed yet again. Oh the joys of being a changeable soul. Perhaps it meant he was un-educated or poorly so. Maybe it was an indication of just how simple he was. More likely however of these outcomes, it would be one above the rest. The one that read on the back of his truck, just below the Chevy sticker behind his head. " Oh that’s right i don’t give a fuck "A need for entertainment for substance blazed through him. A feeling that hit him square in the eyes leaving a wake of frustration in its ambiguous path. It had no definite origin but then his feelings very rarely ever did. Spontaneous, that was what made them fun. At least that would be what he would tell himself because he was unable to control them like others. Unconsciously pulling his fingertips into his palm he cracked at his knuckles. Yet another bad habit that he was unsure of when it started but what did it really matter anyway. Either way, he was yet to be rid of it at 26 and doubted he would be by 30. Thankfully the afternoon traffic was almost extinct now, and whatever cars still roamed around the streets where easily moved around. Market square towered over him in no time as he pulled into one of the many vacant car spaces. Pausing to take in the last of he the song as its vivid beat slowly left the cab he let his hand fall landing atop his notebook.

Odd really. Sitting there, so completely out of place. Not that a notebook couldn’t or wouldn’t be there just odd if you knew him. He was a builder by trade, a bar-man by night and he was very male directly to his core. He was not the type you saw sitting on bended knee writing feverishly in the pages. Yet there it was. A collection of moments that came on out of nowhere thoughts he didn’t share but couldn’t keep. He should throw it out. Get rid of the evidence of someone other than who he appeared to be. Yet he still couldn’t. Frustrated he pulled the keys with agitation from the ignition, leaving the notebook resting aimlessly on the empty bench beside him, as if it was pointless, nothing of importance at all, he was moving. Out of the car and onto the street slamming the door behind him, he didn’t bother to lock it. He never did. While Providence's jails where very rarely empty it was far from those caught stealing used trucks and more the students trying to sell drugs to the preachers daughter that you worried about. That and if anyone chose to steal anything it would not be from his beat up car. It would not be his collection of Death Cab, Muse and Angus and Julia Stone, it would not be his notebook of no importance, it would not be the pine fresh hanging from the dashboard, it would not be his radio that only just played cd's if you put them in the right way. No one would steal his car. No one but an idiot, a smack head, or someone with a death wish. Everyone knew it was his car, and he meant everyone. For some it was as simple as, notification of him. For others it was a label that read " Hi my name is ... poor "

Abandoning his car by the wall, he climbed the littered steps of the bustling centre, walking past groups of high school and university students who were talking avidly, in their cliché groups. It was hard to miss that tingle of longing that broke out through his mind as he saw them. You never did believe people when they said enjoy high school while it lasts. What he would give to be 17 again. But alas the dividing lines where here on the steps too. The artistic souls who sat with cameras at the ready and clothes that probably wouldn’t be in fashion till next year when they where over them. The skaters to the outer left trying to master the steps while buoyantly pushing at each other and laughing. And before him where he was walking ascending the stairs ? The girls who dare not sit on the ground. With skirts and dresses that cost more than his much loved beat up truck. None of which would ever date him but thought nothing of a gentle ogle. What could he say? Attention despite who it was coming from was not something he could hate. It was a nice feeling while it lasted, however long that was. One foot in front of the other over the stone stairs littered with the giggling of young girls. Smirking lowly the right corner of his lip curving into a smile he drifted around them moving freely past the girls who refused to sit on the ground and toward the stores.

It was as empty as his house on game day. A few stragglers moved from one side of the market to the other shuffling their feet reluctantly underneath them but most of them with purpose. They had a destination or a means to one. He on the other hand seemed to be aimless as always. His father would tell him this was a pattern. An unavoidable one, to which he did not care much about. Girls pushed past him smiling and trying to grasp at his attention to which he simply smiled and ran a hand through tangled locks awkwardly. Running a hand over his stomach he selfishly admired the muscles he felt. Well if he wasn’t getting paid well for his work then he should at least get something out of it. As he took a second glance toward the girls passing him, a newly acquired coffee resting in his hands he guessed at their age. 19, if not maybe younger. He was always bad at this game. Flirting he could do. It was the rest that he was uncomfortably comfortable with. Sitting on the bench he wondered, back resting into the lacquered wood, thinking, when did he get so old? When did 26 become old. why despite his rather young age and appearance did he somehow feel slightly perverted looking at younger girls even if they where nineteen. Great. Now he was burning to prove his agility and ability despite age. Team that with the urge of entertainment and this day, this night was bound to get weird. Well fuck ..... how did he get here again? Where was fun when you needed it?