. user friendly; not done

[trixxHERZ]

user friendly fucking dopestar obscene.
will you die when you're high?
you'd never die just for me.

CHARACTER BASICS ;

full name: Brendan Adalrich Herz
nicknames: Trixx
age: seventeen years old
date of birth: April 27th, 1990
gender: male
sexual orientation: bisexual

WHAT DO THEY LOOK LIKE ;

height: five feet, seven inches
weight: one hundred seven pounds
eye color: blue
hair color: naturally blond, currently dyed black
other: snake bites and left nostril pierced, barcode tattoo on right wrist and deal angel on left forearm.

general appearance:
Despite the appearance that many would stereotype as emo, Trixx usually tends to have his own style. His clothing style is original; the way he does his makeup is original; the way he styles his hair every morning is original. But that's the way he likes it. He's the one that can always be expected to express himself through the way he dresses, no matter what his mood is. And, believe me, you can expect him to be consistant with that.

Trixx isn't the shortest guy around, even though he does wish that he was a bit taller. But, when compared to some guys, he's happy he grew an extra few inches. He stands at about 5'7; not that bad, huh? Figuring his father isn't much taller and his mother stands at only 5'3, Trixx is pretty happy with how he turned out.

Despite the fact that Trixx is a fan of all sorts of body art and modification, he only has seven piercings and two tattoos. It had always been hard for him to find someone to do his tattoos and, due to the fact that he doesn't always have the best pain tolerance, he has only been able to find one person he'd truly trust piercing him (and they moved when he was sixteen.) But, currently, he has only three piercings on his face, other than his ears. And those're the lip rings on the right and center of his lip and the single nose ring through his left nostril. Trixx has always wanted snakebites, but for now he's settled on just one on his lip. It is rare to see a stud in his piercing, due to the fact that he simply prefers rings. Trixx also has three piercings in each ear; two on each lope and one in each cartilage. All six ear piercings were done by himself.

As for his tattoos, well, Trixx has always wanted more than two. But, in his mind, they hurt like a bitch. For now, he's settled on a simple barcode tattoo on him right wrist. The numbers 04271990 (his birthday) are tattooed under the barcode. It wasn't a very thoughtout tattoo in his mind, but he still likes it nonetheless. In addition to his barcode, he has a somewhat new tattoo of some form of a dead angel on his left forearm. He got this tattoo when he was seventeen, only several months before he was committed to the asylum.

Trixx has always believed that his eyes are definately one of the most attractive things about them. He blames their hue on his German ancestory; they're of a rather deep, blue shade. Makeup isn't exactly something he deals with; he believes it would raw too much attention to his sexuality if he did. And, despite the fact that he's not ashamed of his sexuality, he feels that he'd get too much negativity from it, especially in this kind of an environment.

His hair is proof of his German ancestory, as well. The natural hue is blond (yes, he's a true Aryan,) though, over the years, he's kept it consistantly dyed black. So just imagine what it will look like after his blond roots begin to come in. Trixx wears his hear brushed down over one eye in the stereotypical 'emo' style.

Trixx has always been somewhat conscience about his weight. Currently, he's a touch skinnier that he'd usually let himself get, but that's due to the stress of being stuck in a place with no possibility of getting out and hardly any ways to end his life here. The stress of being forced to come to terms with his illnesses has also stressed him out a great deal. He always tries to keep his weight above one hundred fifteen pounds, which has proven to be a good weight for his build and height. When he's at one hundred fifteen pounds, you can only see the outlines of his ribs, even though you can see his collar bones and easily feel his hip bones, but feeling both are fine with him. Currently, he weighs close to one hundred seven pounds.

Trixx loves creating his own clothes, whether it involves creating clothes from scratch (which he still sucks at) or modifying clothes he already owns. He usually tries to stay away from just wearing band tees, even though he's a sucker for the band Mindless Self indulgence and can't keep himself from wearing at least one of their band tees a week. But, other than that, he tries to keep his clothes as original as possible. His pants usually consist of some sort of bondage pants or skinny, dark jeans. Trixx has one pair of faded, tight blue jeans that are a little ripped up (they didn't come that way; he had the pleasure of going at them with a jack knife.) Other than that, his pants are usually in one piece.

Accessories have always been extremely important to Trixx. He usually refuses to go anywhere without out his checkered wristband or his favorite pair of fingerless Slipknot gloves. Studded belts are always worn loosely around his weight, unless if his pants are too big for him. Then he'll actually be willing to wear the belt tighter. Unlike some males his age, Trixx doesn't see what's the big deal about having your pants halfway down your ass. Therefor, he does occasionally have use for his selection of belts. Bandanas are also something he loves to add into his outfits. The only bandanas he owns are black and white, but they all have different patterns. He'll either wear the bandanas around his head, or folded partially in one of his back pockets. But one is close to always worn.


LETS CHECK THEM OUT ;

parents: Deryk and Adalgisa Herz
siblings: Ellery Herz; brother, age twenty six
pets: none
family history:
April twenty-seventh, 1990 turned out to be a rather awful day for Cecilia and Donald Herz; rather than the day they welcomed their second born child into the world, they viewed it as just bill...this one they couldn't even skip out on. 'One son was enough,' was a phrase the new born would hear over the next three years of his life, though eventually his parents did seem to agree that their mistake wasn't that terrible. 'But an abortion would've saved us money, Cecilia. And you know that you'd rather have a fix than give birth again.'

personal history:
Born into a trailer park outside of Los Angelos, California, all Trixx knew growing up was poverty. His parents were both convicted felons; his mother had been convicted of prostitution back before his older brother was born (Trixx still doesn't know if his father is also his brother's father) and his father was convicted of harvesting and selling marijuana. In addition to that, Trixx's father had been arrested for aggrivated assualt against a neighbor when Trixx was four years old. So, from the start, Trixx accepted the fact that being arrested and having a criminal record wasn't the worst thing in the world. It just didn't matter to people like him; the way Trixx learned to perceive life while growing up was that there's no point in staying perfect and having a perfect record if there's no way in hell that your family'd be able to afford tuition, and no way that you'd end up with any sort of a good job. So it would be completely false to say that Trixx tried his hardest to stay out of trouble through his childhood.

The first time he got booked was when he was eleven years old, for vandalising a local convenient store. The owner had threatened to call the cops on Trixx and his friends for loitering a few times, so one night Trixx just decided to grab a couple cans of spray paint and essentially 're-decorate' the outside windows and walls of the store.It didn't take long for the store's owner to figure out that it was him who had vandalised the store, but because of his age, Trixx was only fined $500...even though he did have to spend a day or two in juvie. That experience just toughened him up, to say the least. Over the next six years, he would end up getting arrested another four times; once for attempted armed robbery, aggrivated assualt, and and possession with the intent to sell. When he was thirteen, he and a couple of friends attempted to rob the same damn convenient store that Trixx had vandalised two years before. Yes, they did have a gun, one that had been illegally purchased (which added on to one of his friends' sentences.) Somehow, they managed to get away with at least $200, though some fat cop had tried to stop them by jumping onto the hood of his friend's car as they were pulling out of the parking lot. Well, let's just say that somehow the cop's plan worked...especially when he pulled out his gun. Trixx was put away for a week, though this time he wasn't fined (you should've seen the relief on his parents' faces.)

Two years later, when Trixx was fifteen, he got arrested again; this time for aggrivated assualt and possession with intent to sell. He had been a pretty successful for the last year, and, even though he didn't have the resources to get a good deal of drugs, he was doing pretty well for his age. So what happened was that some guy interested in buying some pot came up to him, and when Trixx told him how much it would cost, the two began to argue. The other guy hit Trixx...which wasn't really a good thing for the other guy. Within about five minutes, Trixx's hand was around the junky's throat, which was exactly when a cop car pulled up. Because Trixx had a pretty decent amount of marijuana on him, he was charged with possession with intent to sell. The other guy (who was surprisingly clean) pressed charges against Trixx, claiming that Trixx had hit him after attempting to sell drugs to him. Trixx got six months for the assualt and drug charges, due to the fact that it was his first drug charge. He supposed he should've gotten more time for the assualt charge, due to the fact that it wasn't his first offence, but the judge was being easy on him.

Trixx actually stayed out of trouble for the next two year, but that doesn't mean that he didn't do anything illegal. He was still dealing, but now moving onto harder stuff. Meth was the easiest ting for him to get, due to the fact that his older brother was running a meth lab out of his apartment. He was making a good deal of money off of his brother's business, even though he did have to buy the drugs from his brother before selling them. But, of course, he was making a nice profit off of the business. Sadly for him, though, Meth was the drug that gave you the longest drug-related prison sentence, especially if you were catering to kids under 15. Which, of course, Trixx was. When he was arrested for the fourth and last time, Trixx was hanging out around his old highschool (he had dropped out the year before; when he was sixteen,) waiting for a client. This wasn't the first time he met up with a 'client' around the high school, though apparently the administrative staff had been getting rather suspicious about him hanging out around the baseball field after school got out. so, they simply 'informed' the cops of Trixx. Sadly enough for Trixx, they arrived right as he was handing over the drugs. He hadn't been paying attention enough to notice the cop car, though as soon as he saw it coming towards him, he did try to make a run for it. That never works, does it? It only took about ten minutes for him to begin to tire, and at that point, one of the cops went to tackle him. That worked; it actually brought Trixx down to his knees. But, when Trixx tried to get himself up, the cop made an attempt to cuff him. As soon as Trixx saw the cuffs, he picked up his attempts to get out of there; this time instead of running, he simply tried to fight the cop off. Sometime in the five minutes Trixx was hitting the cop, another two cop cars pulled up and four officers were forced into pulling the teenager off of their co-worker. Trixx didn't get to see the damage he did to the cop's face until his court date; when he did see the pictures taken of the cop at his trial, he couldn't help but laugh. Somehow, he had managed to break the officer's nose, as well as knock two front teeth out and dish out two black eyes. And that all happened before he was cracked in the back of the head with a maglight, which did take him down (and knocked him out for about fifteen minutes, after which he awoke in the back of a squad car.) Everything after that was rather hazey: try being cracked in the head with a mag light and staying fully conscious. Believe me; that's not something that's done easily. In the end, Trixx was convicted on three counts; distributing methamphetamine to a minor, resisting arrest, and aggrivated assualt on a police officer.

HOW THEY LANDED HERE ;

criminal record:
age eleven; vandalism
age thirteen; attempted armed robbery
age fifteen; aggrivated assualt, posession of marijuana with intent to sell
age seventeen; distributing methamphetamine to a minor, resisting arrest, aggrivated assualt on a police officer

crime history:
Crime wasn't something that was out of the norm for Trixx, to put things bluntly. His father was arrested multiple times during his childhood and, by far the worst of it all, his brother was dragged out of his room in the middle of the night by the cops for manufacturing and selling methamphetamine, right in front of seven year old Trixx. So, when he was first arrested at the age of twelve, the only punishment he got was getting hit by his father to knock some sense into him. After all, a five hundred fine for vandalism was worse off in the poor family's mind than getting arrested for selling drugs.

Shortly after he turned thirteen, Trixx and his friends made an attempt at robbing a convenience store.

OTHER:

sample role-play:
(Taken from an insane asylum roleplay; this is one of my most recent posts with this character)

"What are you doing here?" The words, draped with a heavy German accent, broke the silence in the male's dorm room, his azure eyes glaring at the elder man and woman who stood at the foot of his bed. With his knees drawn up to his chest and his back pressed firmly against the hard bed frame, it seemed as if the older teenager was trying to keep his distance from the couple, though his face showed no sign of fear. Exasperation, maybe, but no fear. Not even the schizophrenic Trixx held any fear of the graying couple that happened to be his parents. In fact, from the slightly cynical way he had spoken, it was obvious that he held no feeling for his parents, except for possible regret. After all, they were the ones who committed him to this hell hole. Of course the male blamed them for his current position; who else would he blame? Well, except for the Russian government's terrorist group that constantly brought him fear, there was no one else to blame, except for maybe himself (but, to tell you the truth, Trixx didn't think he had done anything wrong. Yes, maybe it had been wrong for him to swallow the pills and go after his wrists with a straight razor all those years ago, but that last suicide attempt was for the well-being of the world. At least that was what he was assured of.) So, even three months after he the initial period of hatred directed towards his parents, the teenager still felt much malevolence towards his German parents. And, of course, things didn't get better when they attempted to avoid his initial question. "Meines, schauen ihres haar ; sieht aus, wie ihre wahre farbe begonnen hat, zurück zu wachsen. Sie fangen an, Deutsch wieder anzuschauen" 'My, look at that hair, it seems your true color has finally started to grow back. You're starting to look German again,' Trixx's father said, completely avoiding the true reason for their arrival at the asylum by noting the fact that his natural blonde hue was beginning to show significantly at the roots of his artificially dark hair.

"Ich habe gesagt 'warum sie hier sind'?"

'I said 'what are you doing here'?' The teenager inquired once more, this time in German, his tone raising in volume and becoming clearly annoyed. It didn't take the boy much to realize that, just from the ashamed expressions that crawled over his parents' faces, they had simply avoided answering his question, rather than being unable to understand his words (neither were exactly what you'd fluent in English.) A deep frown crept over Trixx's mug, his head shaking in a slow, disappointed way when no verbal answer was given. Instead, his parents took glances at each other; their silence was enough of an answer for the boy to realize that either they were uncomfortable talking about what was on their mind, ro that they were present to say something they knew Trixx wouldn't want to hear. "Ich habe gesagt 'warum sie hier sind'?" Trixx repeated the phrase he had said only moments before, this time bringing his mother to respond in her broken English. "Brian, ve haff decided vat et vould be better teh have you remain her' instead of returning home. Es tut mir Leid. It is for your own good." 'I am Sorry'

The explination simply left Trixx with a blank expression, his jaw dropping open in response to his mother's words. After blinking several times in slight shock, Trixx began to try to speak whatever came to mind, though his vocal chords failed him, releasing nothing other than a sharp squeak. Several minutes past in silence before Trixx sunk down under the plain, off-white blanket that had laid at the foot of his bed only moments before. He hid under it, concealing himself until he could think up the appropriate response to his mother's words. It took several more minutes for Trixx to regain a consistant train of thought, after which he lowered the blanket from his face only enough to expose his now glaring azure optics, his gaze locked on his parents. 'Go Away.' "Verschwinden sie," Trixx began to mumble and, only after his father dared to ask him to speak up, did he begin to raise his voice, yelling the phrase several times at his parents. Much to the teenager's dismay, his mother turned to leave, his father following bashfully at her heels. Trixx, daring to stand up against his parents in some way, followed them out into the dorm's hall, yelling the previously stated phrase in their direction one last time. Much to the boy's surprise, no tears had fallen, in fact the only thing that came from him was yet another exasperated sigh, though this was cut short as he saw a blonde male dash out of a dorm several rooms down. The blonde male, who was clearly at least slightly older than Trixx, departed in the midst of what appeared to be a lover's quarrel, or so Trixx came to the conclusion of after listening in on the yelling. Eavesdropping? Well, the teenager couldn't exactly help; he could easily admit that he was curious about what the quarrel between the now fleeing blonde male and who ever occupied the dorm room was about.

Succumbing to his curiousity, Trixx allowed himself to wander to the room several doors down, cautiously peering his head inside. Azure optics looked over the male sitting on the floor, eyebrows lifting at his actions. Why was he licking his shirt? Trixx ended up answering his own question after taking a bit of a closer look and wrinkled his nose instinctively, ashamed at realizing exactly why the other male was licking his shirt. He was a bit relieved he hadn't walked in minutes earlier out of fear of what he may have viewed or, more importantly intruded. But, now, it didn't seem like he was intruding anything. And, if he was, well, he would gladly leave. After all, he was already pushing his limits just leaving his room unattended; apparently he hadn't put much thought into the fact that the male he was peering at may very well be a Russian terrorist from outer-space. But that fact hadn't hit him yet. More specifically, it hadn't hit him yet because he wasn't going through one of his manic episodes. If anything, especially after the visit from his parents, he was experiencing a bout of depression. But, at the moment, he was going into sympathetic mode...to some extent. Trixx actually had to ability to be sympathetic and he was, occasionally. It didn't take much for Trixx to get sympathetic; he was sympathetic and soft spoken by nature. But, for him to put all of his emotions into being sympathetic, it would require the other person to actually be deserving of his sympathy. And, at the moment, he wasn't sure if that we be at all possible. Especially because he himself was feeling down. To tell you the truth, after he had been sympathetic with himself and actually improved in mood, he wasn't sure how much sympathey would be left for even the biggest tear-jerker.

After pondering the situation momentarily, Trixx made his presence known by speaking, his voice generally unobtrusive. He spoke a commonly used phrase, something he regretted as being insincere only moments after the words were given.

"Hey...ummm...are you ok?"


secret word: eskimo pie

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