[ the nth revised edition of jeon kim. ]
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name ; the one and only, jeon kim
age ; twenty one
nationality ; korean
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physical description ;
simply put, jeon is androgynous- he's dark hooded feline eyes framed by sparse (though long and spidery) lashes, high cheekbones and smooth pale skin that alone could easily mistaken him for a girl. but he is not- he is, instead a short korean male with willowy limbs and dark bags under his eyes that look, in the right light, like bruises. he stands at five feet six inches, though his almost permanent slouch chops off a inch or two on his height. thin waisted with subtle muscles, elegant tapered fingers and a sharp jawline with lips so light they blend in with his skin, jeon is easy on the eyes. his floppy light pink hair owns a texture synonymous to sandpaper. yes, androgynous would be the best word to describe him.
characteristics ;
at the age of twenty one, jeon looks a bit young for his age- and he behaves accordingly. still stuck in his "i sorta really hate the world rebel hell yeah" phase, jeon is bitingly sarcastic and blunt, not really caring if he tramples all over your feelings or not. he sees himself superior to everyone, his pride could account for three people. usually, jeon is cynical and snarky, biting remarks and standoffish comments that leave you wondering if he really was serious or not. he's moody and behaves a bit like a girl PMSing, changing moods abruptly- from his usual as sholiness to a quiet, thinking person that reflects too much on everything, delving too deep into the meaning of something that really doesn't matter. he's pained, cocky and self-righteous, and a bit paranoid- thinking a bit too highly of the people around him. he's broody at times, preferring silence with his thoughts over people. though, of course, everyone has a reason why they act the way they do- a veteran at the asylum, he's adopted this attitude as a way of preserving his pride, i suppose.
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back story ;
jeon was the product of an illicit relationship, conceived in a ravish love hotel, where his rich father had his mistress meet him whenever it floated his fancy. and thus jeon came into this world, screeching and whining, and rich douche- let's call him tim for now, shall we? and tim was there for the birth, he had held his son in his arms, he had looked upon jeon and appraised his features and then disappeared. though of course, tim wasn't the cold type- he couldn't see jeon or his mistress, no matter what. he had to do what he had to do as the first born son, he had no other choice but to carry out his duty as the heir. he had to marry a woman he wasn't a bit interested in, he had to be ripped away from the family that he /did/ love. pitiful tim, living but not really living. but why couldn't he just run off and live with jeon and his mother? because his parents knew of the affair and they were disgusted. /their/ son with some /woman/ that wasn't from money? absolutely, utterly disgusting. and so with monthly checks that allowed jeon and his mother to live by, they were banned from ever contacting tim. a... pay off, you may call it.
jeon's mother was the frail type. she didn't hate jeon for separating her from the man she loved, but she acted like it. at first she was the doting mother, making sure jeon was clothed and washed, properly fed and going to school. but as time wore on, she grew weak- body and mind. sure, she had blamed jeon a little for the separation- but she never really placed everything on his shoulders. but really, what was she to think? the boy was a living, breathing, reason of why she and her love couldn't be together. he was the only thing keeping them apart, she reasoned. and her soft touches became stony silence, cold eyes and even colder touch.
jeon's mother had finally turned against him.
and poor jeon. poor, poor jeon with no one beside him- what was he to do, other than hit every single mine you could on the way to adulthood? pills, alcohol, girls. he did it all, a hazy time in his life where he met the love of /his/ life. it's a rather sad tale, i must warn you- and as all stories containing the usage of illegal substances turn out, an unhappy ending is in place.
jeon was sixteen. the age where everything was in place. he was failing and skipping school, opting instead to lounge at a grassy field parallel to the school which he dreaded with his druggie friends. rather gutsy of them, if you ask me- but then again, this place was in famous for harboring the scum of the upper class school which they attended. but it didn't matter to jeon- nothing did at this point, other than looking and having the best. and enter aris. he was a senior, wrapped up in his own world. aris was beautiful and he was charming, getting under jeon's skin rather quickly. and soon the days they spent together turned into weeks, then quickly months. and before jeon knew it, he was in the dreaded four-letter love with aris.
love.
and aris knew it. but it was okay, because aris loved him back- and everything was right with the world, jeon was the happiest he ever was [ and will be ] in his short, seventeen year life. they did almost everything together sometimes- sleep, eat, smoke, and most importantly- drugs. something that jeon would later on, deeply regret. but it was alright, because aris was at his side and they were together and in love and he was just so h a p p y he could burst. but then aris moved onto college, something that jeon had never thought too much about- he would end up bartending or maybe dj-ing. oooh, or maybe he would be a famous rapper? yeah, he had time. he had time.
and jeon accompanied aris to college, moving into the already crowded apartment that aris had shared with about two other guys who were stressed and depressed. the guys didn't care- they had their own problems, and who even gave a sh it if aris and jeon were together? jesus christ, they had fu cking work to do. and besides, the more the merrier- more people to split the rent with.
and one day, when aris and jeon were stoned out of their minds, they felt like flying- something that seemed completely possible at this point. and they clambered up to the rood, laughing and giggling all the way in anticipation at the wind through their hair, the city lights below them. it was going to be the best. aris was first, because hell, he was always first- first to swallow, first to drink, first to learn- so why couldn't he be first this time? jeon was used to it anyway.
but aris didn't fly.
he fell- plummeted to the ground, bashing his skull in and sticky red liquid spilling out and around him, finding purchase on the cold hard cement. but do you know what the worst part was, the only sentence that jeon was capable of uttering?
``i didn't even get to tell him i love him.``
and that was that. there were consequences, of course, but tim had paid everything and shipped him to the asylum, thinking that it was best for his son. and who was there to stop him? his mother didn't care. he had no friends. aris. aris was all that he had, all that he desired- so without aris, what was there to live for?
who really fell that day, he wonders.
family ; mother and father. possibly half siblings that he doesn't know about- hell, he doesn't even know who his father really is.
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diagnosis ; at first, drug addiction- but he's working on that, and he's a lot better now. though he craves for the haziness that it brings instead of the sharp clarity that reality slaps him with. also depression.
secret ; the above.
other ; he has a tattoo, from his teenage days- "too fast to live, too young to die" on his shoulderblade.
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roleplay sample ;
【 ᴶᴱᴼᴺ ᴷᴵᴹ ; ʷᵉ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ʷᶤᵗʰᵉʳᵉᵈ˒ ᵒᵘʳ ʰᵉᵃʳᵗˢ ᵇʳᵘᶤˢᵉᵈ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ˡᵒᶰᵍᶤᶰᵍ 】
† light blares in through his room's window, the curtains proving useless as the sun's rays radiates throughout the room. jeon blearily blinks one eye open, slowly gathering himself, shedding sleep and donning on a new armor to battle through yet another day with. he sighs, turning on his side in a fruitless effort to escape the intensity of the sun, instead greeted by the blank wall that he was so accustomed to. good morning, he greets silently before his lips crack up into a smile, wincing slightly when it reopens a cut. winding thin fingers through his hair, he grimaces and sits up, pink hair flopping around his head messily. jeon needed water. lots and lots of it, he realized when his taste buds fill with a salty flavor once he swallows his spit. lots of water would do him good.
