MONROE, mason james

[MASON JAMES MONROE]

mason james monroe.
twenty one ,, seattle ,, halfway sober;screamer ,, he's confused ,, asshole ,, david schmitt
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"yo, bitches. the names mason, but you can call me mason. i don't put up with bullshit nicknames, not even just the ones that are my name short. just don't fucking do it. i was born december fifth. so, before you know it, i'm going to be fucking twenty two. so that means i'm twenty one right now, and a screamer for halfway sober.

i don't really know..a lot of people tell me i'm overly conceited, but that's not what i like to call it. i'm just confident in my abilities, man, and i pride myself on it, i guess. if you ask me, more people should be like that, it doesn't fuckin' take too much, haha. just be proud of what you are and how you come off to people, because if you're not comfortable with yourself nobodies gonna be comfortable with the shit you do, so every one needs to stop being pussies and be themselves for a change. it's getting fucking old.

a big..well, i mean, it's not a secret, but i guess not many people really know, is that i'm kind of addicted to sex..and when i say kind of..i mean i'm really addicted to sex. sex and beer. i can't drink that sweet shit, no. beer and the hard stuff that gets you drunk after a cup and a half. yeah, the ones that give you monster hang overs. it doesn't even phase me, the hang overs and shit.

more? mm, i speak my mind. always. something comes to my mind, i say it. i mean, if i fucking hate your guts, but you're hot as fuck? i'll tell you. i mean, i'll let you know that i wish you a long, painful death, but i'll also tell you every thing like it is. i don't skip or navigate around the point. the point is what i'm getting at, and i want to get there right fucking quick. i mean, i'm pretty impatient on top of that, so taking five minutes to explain or tell you something that should only take me five fucking seconds? no. i'm not going to do that. why should i waste my sweet ass time on you? i shouldn't.

i'm extremely impulsive. i don't really think before i do something. i just jump into things. if someone's attractive, what do i do? go up to her. if i don't like something that's happening, what do i do? throw a fucking punch. i say things and do things without using my head. well..my upstairs head. i have a short temper, so if you piss me off, i won't hesistate to do something 'irrational' like throw a punch or beat a person until they're blac, blue, and bloody. so yeah, don't fuck with me.

i have a tendancy of remembering like..everything that ever happens to me and those that are close to me. i kind of have this habit of holding grudges forever. if you did something to me when i was a kid, i'm gonna fucking hate you as a teenager, an adult, and a senior. i used to watch the world pass me by and wonder why i don't move, and i've figured it out long ago that if i don't forgive, then i'm not going anywhere, but i can't will myself or get myself to forgive or forget, it's not in my nature and as much as i want to change everything about who i am, i can't..so if you do some kind of shit to me or anyone else that i love, be prepared to have a constant grudge held against you.

i like using sarcasm when i talk, unless like..you're seriously mentally challenged or mentally retarded. i'm not that much of a dick. but when people ask stupid questions, then fuck yes i'm going to make a rude as hell comment back to them that makes them feel like the biggest fucking dip shit in the world. i fucking hate stupid people. i mean, blondes are nice, i'm not trying to limit it to blondes, but blond girls especially seem to try to always live up to their status of unintelligence by purposely being stupid, and what's less attractive than real stupidity? fucking fake stupidity.

if you haven't noticed, i'm pretty fucking vulgar, and this isn't even the worst of that shit. haha. i throw around curse words as if they're baseballs. it kind of soothes me a little bit, and calms me down, don't ask why. i don't hesitate to tell someone to, for example, suck a dick or fuck a bitch, and i seem to get away with it all the time. it's especially bad when i'm angry or upset..and even more when i'm drunk. fuck is probably the most used word in my vocabulary besides like..the and it and that kind of shit, but if you have a problem with it, you can turn the cheek and stop fucking listening.

i also have a little bit of a tendancy to beat girls. to me, they're only good for one thing, and that's sex. they're all just a place for me to put my dick. this is pretty fucking horrible and shit, but i don't think i've ever had sex with a chick that i didn't beat to a pulp afterwards, just to make sure they wouldn't fucking persue me or any bullshit. i'm sure that makes me a terrible fucking person, but i don't care. i don't have time to put up with woman's action. they don't deserve respect.

so, there's a few reasons behind the way i act and treat people, not that anybody really cares. i never really had a dad when i was a kid and my mother was a prostitute, and a good one at that, i guess... that's what she always told me when i was little, and we had a pretty nice house and there was always food on the table. soon, my mom became a little less into prostitution and just started bringing home guys. a different one every few days. they would provide us with a little money.. so she was a prostitute.. just.. different.

a majority of said men beat me and beat me in order to not hit my mom. i was smaller, and i couldn't really hit back. i was only seven or eight. she was a grown woman with a big mouth, and they were grown men. so even though my mom deserved to be hit and junk, they still took it out on me. but, there was one man who really put the icing on the cake of my shitty life. this guy beat me so fucking bad that my mom thought i was dead. she wasn't smart enough to check for a pulse or any of that bullshit, so instead of taking me to the hospital or something, she dumped me in a ditch. some mom she was, right?

by the time someone else found me, i was half dead. barely breathing, bleeding every where.. all that jazz. this little wimpy kid, he actually really resembled myself.. him and his dad were broke down on the side of the street, and the kid, braden, had gotten out of the car to help, but instead, he'd looked around. and thank fucking god for that. they called the ambulance and shit, then went to the hospital in the back of it with me, because obviously i had no mother or father to go, and i was freaking out and bull shit. fucking hospitals.. worst place ever.

anyways, my mother was contacted and claimed that i had gone missing. of course, i just nodded and went along with it, because she was my fucking mother. if i didn't, she would've beat the living hell out of me. and not long after, she dropped me off at an all boys adoption agency where i was accepted pretty easily. then, miraculously, i was adopted by this guy and his bitchy wife, who ended up leaving him and then it was just me and him. he changed my view on men and stuff, but there was nobody really that changed my opinion of women. i don't think there is one that could... after all the bullshit i went through with my mom.. it's kind of hard.

anyways, i completed sixth and seventh grade with difficulty. i was held back in the sixth grade because i had a lot of trouble with just about every subject. so, i was an older student, which is fine, i guess. then, in eighth grade i started hanging out with some older kids i met around the neighborhood and they started drinking and then i started drinking and even after they were gone out of my life, i kept drinking. it wasn't so bad at the end of eighth grade, but then during the summer it just got worse and worse, and it's pretty much a flat line, now. if anything, it's gone down a little.

at the beginning of ninth grade, i started getting into the sex thing. started off with the photography teacher, and moved onward to every other girl that i could get to sleep with me. sometimes, when i was drunk at parties, those weird gay guys would come onto me and shit, too. i remember that bull shit, but i only ever made out with a dude, and that was drunk. even to this fucking day, i'm really not sure at all about what my feelings about other people are, or my sexual preference. usually, i just stick to chicks.

during my freshman year of college, which i was only going to do the frat parties and the sex, i met these other guys that were interested in a band and of course i was in. i already know how to play guitar and i could scream pretty damn well, so that's what i did in the band. didn't take long and we were gaining popularity and shit, not that we needed it. our fans give us the chance, but we had to make it on our own, you know?"


^{hey, so i'm alyssa. i've been roleplaying for awhile now. as well as this character, i also play renton, petra, & kalyn. you can reach me by just ask through pm if you need me for anything. i found NO VACANCY TOUR by MADE IT and i'm pretty glad i did. here's an example of mah skillz. (:}

amanda smirked to herself as she logged off of the computer, jumping up out of her chair happily. she wasn't only trying to have sex with zane because she needed to get laid, but also because she was just amazing and knew that the whore was like, in love with him. she had seen the way her face lit up when the girl heard his voice and it made her giggle internally, now that she was getting the chance to sleep with him. she'd rub it in the girl's face eventually, it wouldn't take too much and nobody put it past her. she was out to hurt the girl any way she could, mostly because she was always all over zui's soon-to-be boyfriend, and that never flew well with the best friend. never ever. if murder wasn't illegal, the girl would've been thrown under the bus a long time ago. literally, thrown under a bus. there would probably some stupid search party searching for the dumb skank and she would just sit in her bus giggling with zui, because that's what they thought of the girl. she would've thrown a yay-storms-gone party with hers and zui's bands and they would've partied all night long, doing more than she should've. zui was her best friend, she'd take a bullet for her and give up her life if it meant that zui could have the best life ever. she was that kind of a person, so zui's enemies where her enemies, and her enemies were zui's enemies. they had been best friends since they met, last year on the same tour. neither of them had been fond of other people, though people were starting to drop dead and bands were quitting, which made her worry about herself slightly. she knew she was a bitch, but what about zui? zui would go before she did.

she shook those thoughts away from herself and stood up. she had to get dressed then go clean zane's bus and sleep with him. then she would make a stop at theatre of robot's bus to talk to zui and make sure she wasn't breaking anything, and because she knew that zoozoo would want to know. she needed something to do, and zane fit her standards. behind all his hair, he was pretty damn good looking, even with the makeup. she was sure a lot of girls out there would kill to sleep with him, though amanda wasn't anywhere near that desperate. if he had been joking, she would've gotten dressed and skipped off to find someone who wanted her, because to be honest, a lot of people wanted her in their bed. she had big boobs, a small waist, and a full ass; an hour glass shape, and she was damn proud of it and showed it off. most of the guys on tour had slept with her, except the ones that were younger than her, because then she felt like a pedophile. well..only when they looked younger than her. she knew zane was younger than her, but he didn't look it, really. he seemed like he was the same age as her, not older or younger. of course not older. his hair was long, longer than she normally would've dealt with if he didn't have more pros than cons. she was sure people had mistaken him as a girl from behind at least once or twice, which, she had to admit, would've been funny to witness. she giggled, imagining someone walking up to him and asking him out, only to realize that he was male and not female. she probably would've cracked up and laughed for days. she probably would've taunted the poor kid for days, too, and never would've forgotten or let him forget.

the blond wandered over to her small suitcase, opening it with a frown. of course she didn't get closet space, her sister used both of their space, which wasn't all that surprising to her or her band mates. her sister was the diva and she was the whore, but they all knew and accepted that. the only time amanda ever looked even remotely normal was on stage, when she resorted to jeans and a t-shirt for comfort instead of her mico-miniature skirts and see through shirts. the only person who ever really confronted her about it was her sister, and it was starting to get annoying, considering the girl had been stupid enough to let pictures of her half naked leak. now, amanda knew that there were pictures of her bare, but she liked it that way. she didn't mind people seeing her almost completely exposed, or completely exposed for that matter. it usually just made people want to sleep with her more, and part of her was surprised that she wasn't pregnant yet, considering she never really mentioned condoms or any sort of protection. she wasn't on the pill and she never brought male protection. it was almost as if she was asking to get pregnant, so she could get rid of it, she supposed is what people thought would happen. though, they were wrong. if she got pregnant, she would quit her band and become a real parent, though she knew that she would end up either alone or on tour as a tag-along for the father. she shuddered at the thought, but she couldn't give sex up. it was all she knew besides breathing and drumming. she didn't know how to pull herself away from it, it wasn't like she didn't have endless opportunities, on a tour with mostly men and with a lot of male fans completely attracted to her. she could sleep with almost anyone she wanted to.

amanda dug into her bag, pulling out a pair of matching panties and bra. zebra striped with pink lining. they were probably one of the more expensive parts of her wardrobe. she liked to look like she had the money to at least buy nice undergarments, which most people didn't. she cared what she looked like, always. all her underwear and bras had matches. it was slutty and such, but she didn't care what other bitches thought of her. she would know when it got out of hand, and it hadn't yet. she also pulled out an extremely short, hot pink dress, smiling to herself. this was her outfit today, and probably some heels. it would be fun, she was sure. he looked like he had some experience from the pictures she'd seen, and from when she'd observed him onstage. she smiled to herself and locked herself in the back room of her bus, tearing her clothes off. she was only wearing baggy pajama bottoms and a tight tanktop. boy short boxer underwear and no bra. she could see someone stop and stare through the window and leaned over, her breasts hanging out all over the place smiling down at him before shutting the blinds. she clipped her bra into place and pulled the thong up her legs, looking over her tattoos in the mirror for a second, sighing to herself. quickly, she pulled the dress over her body, it barely covered her butt. she gave a satisfied nod of her head, rushing into the bathroom with a brush. she combed through her long bleached blond locks, smlinging to herself as she ran the flat iron through it, her fingers fidgetting. she looked like a whore by the looks of her clothing, but her face was plain. she hated herself without makeup.

quickly, the girl picked up her foundation, dabbing some of it in the right places and watching as it blended into her skin, then took her cover up in her hands, swirling a little makeup brush around, letting the powder sprinkle all over her face, working it into her skin. her skin looks flawless now, but her eyes looked dull and uncolorful, which was never okay to her. she opened her liquid eyeliner, making dark lines on the top of her eyelid, extending it just outside of her lashes, screwing the top back on. her stick eyeliner was in her hands within seconds, laying a thick layer of black against her bottom eye lashes, she blinked in the mirror for a second, closing her eyeliner and picking up her mascara. she let the black liquid enlongate her lashes, blinking again before putting clear lip gloss over her lips. she was one of her better days, she looked good. she looked the way she wanted to and with another nod into the mirror and an unsure falter of her lips, she went back out to her suitcase, putting her pajamas back in, zipping it up. she quickly scribbled out a note saying not to worry about her and all that jazz before letting her shoes slip onto her feet. her shoes made her a whole four inches taller, making her five foot five inches. she bent down, clipping the buckles into place, walking over to the door. she was finally feeling pretty and was ready to go, easily walking down the steps and across the gravel, smirking to herself. most people wondered how she walked so easily on this kind of ground with that kind of heel, but she was more than used to it by now. it was something she had learned to do since the year before. this was her second year on the nineteen stars tour, her band had been one of the five that had been asked to come back the year before, and hopefully this year would be the year they would be signed at the end of the year, but that really had nothing to do with what she was about to do.

she searched for i make scenes burn's bus and a smile pressed against her lips. she knocked lightly and stepped back, her hip popped out a tad bit, waiting for him to come to the door, humming one of the bands songs to herself. it was one of zui's. "storm, stand up and recieve this award. i am pleased to pronounce you a whore. storm, you're such a disease, you're the queen of the sleaze. rule the world from your knees." the words were singing themselves in her head and the bars buzzing in her throat. she loved that song and had been one of the people to help her friend write the song. it was fun and sounded great. as long as the words weren't leaving her mouth, though, she was good..because she was about to meet storm's "brother". she didn't think they were related, but it didn't really matter. even if they were, storm still had some weird ass attraction to him. she could tell, and she was about to break all the little girl's dreams.

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