FOSTER, Joel Durden

[JOEL FOSTER]

JOEL DURDEN FOSTER



* I find myself, of an impossible kind.
A pretty face,a vauge Ideal, I can't relate
This is what you get for pulling pins .

HI THERE. MY NAME IS call me joel, AND I AM twenty two.
I'VE BEEN ROLE PLAYING FOR ABOUT ten or so
AND MY OTHER CHARACTER(S) WOULD BE Mr. Nothing. OH, BY THE WAY, IF YOU HAVE ANY QUESTIONS THE BEST WAY TO CONTACT ME IS VIA pm

[/color],[/b] "Joel Durden Foster"
- - - - nickname(s), "Dirty D, but Joel will do just fine"
- - - - gender, "Male"
- - - - age, "twenty five"
- - - - species, Human
- - - - sexuality, Hetero
- - - - status, "Single, for now"
- - - - occupation, Hunter
- - - - allegiance, good, enough.
- - - - wealth class, upper middle class
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[/color],[/b] "baby blue"
- - - - hair, "Dirty blond-ish I suppose?"
- - - - build, "Well I'm larger than most folk, and can pack a decent punch. Not sure what that says about me. But I'm proud of it"
- - - - distinguishing marks, Large in stature. Built like a god.
- - - - height, 6'3.5
- - - - fashion sense, "Comfortable"
- - - - Play By, Chris Heimsworth
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[/color],[/b]

• Meth
  
• Heroine
  
• Coke
  
• Weed
  
• Nicotine
  
• Speed
  
• X
  
• football
  
• girls
  
• alcohol
  
• sex
  
• country music
  
• his siblings
  
• Karaoke
  
• fire
  
• gum
  
• doing things without a reason
  
• The sound of a bullet leaving the chamber of his rifle
  
• His Dogs
  
• His truck
  
• The Grand Canyon
  
• Tricksters

- - - - Joel hates,

• school
  
• the coaches
  
• his father
  
• his mother
  
• most authority figures
  
• His ex wife
  
• romance
  
• 'emo' music
  
• thunder
  
• people with accents he can't understand.
  
• Demons
  
• Vampires
  
• Above all else, skinwalkers

- - - - strengths,

• Will do almost anything for those that he cares about
  
• his actual physical strength
  
• his skill with throwing knives
  
• Deep down he has a very big heart despite the fact that he puts up a front to keep people at arms length.
  
• Cooking, he can make a meal out of almost everything.
  
• The ability to stop at nothing until he gets what he needs

- - - - weaknesses,
"I'm not flawed...I'm completely perfect."

• His pig-headedness
  
• his need to always be right.
  
• egotistical
  
• can't take a hint
  
• arrogant
  
• doesn't listen to peoples Opinions.
  
• can't take no for an answer

- - - - ambitions,

• To find the beast impersonating his daughter
  
• To find out where his daughter was really taken/buried
  
• to murder that creepy ass.

- - - - fears,

• His father
  
• burning out
  
• everybody being right about him.
  
• Seeing his daughter again

- - - - Hobbies,

• Football
  
• getting high
  
• making new food concoctions.
  
• The obvious hunting of bad guys.

- - - - Quirks,

• He almost always has one hand in or on his hair
  
• Puts his shoes on before his pants
  
• will hold eye contact for long periods of time when he's lying.

- - - - Habits,

• Smoking -Pot -Cigarettes
  
• shooting heroine
  
• just about every drug known to man
  
• tackling people instead of saying Hi
  
• biting his nails

- - - - other abilities,

• Can burp the whole alphabet
  
• backwards and forwards
  
• Can screw in a light bulb with his mouth
  
• can make his voice sound exactly like Cartman off of South park
  
• Can hit a mark with a bow and arrow from half a mile away

- - - - overall personality,
"Whats there to say about me? I do what I want to, when I want to. There's not to much else to it. Alright, fine. Um, well I guess I have a 'problem' with authority. I don't like it whenever people get into my face and try to tell me what to do, or how to live my life. I guess that's all because that's exactly what my father did to me. of course, he never drags his sorry ass off of the couch long enough to tell me what to do. Not anymore anyway. I think that was actually the reason that I left in the first place. Before all of this dirty business happened I was pretty normal. I've always been avid about football, but whenever my father started pressing it into my brain. I quit, no. that's not true, I was forced to leave. I've never taken steroids in my whole life, but whatever. People will believe anything these days right? Anyway, I didn't do to well in school. Just don't have a patience for it I guess. However, well, can you keep a secret? I've found that if you do speed while studying, your going to pass your test. Now, I'm not saying that you should do drugs. They are.....no. Do them. They are amazing. That could be another thing I guess, addiction. I know that I'm an 'intelligent boy' who has 'so much potential' personally that's a load of horse shit. I can do whatever I put my mind to it. however, it's just that there's not much of my mind left to stick to things. Toxins will do that to you. However that whole, they stunt your growth thing, total myth. I mean, look at me. I'm huge! Anyway, I tend to get addicted to things very quickly. I don't handle loss very well. So, I'll just keep at something until I get the effect of it that i want. Drugs, just keep me in a constantly, well, euphoric state I guess. Without them, I was a lump driven only for football. Going nowhere. My grades have dragged themselves into the passing category since I started smoking, so don't tell me they aren't any good."

"That's just about it. more? Wow, you're easily entertained. I'm nothing special. Um, i don't handle rejection very well. But since I'm not often rejected, heh, I don't really have to worry about it. I'm a fun loving guy. Pretty down to earth. I don't really have many worldly things, so I try not to get caught up in them. I'm always down for whatever as long as it's fun to do. Overnight road trip to the moon? Yea let's go. I don't hide much from the world unless it's something that could get me into trouble. What's that now? You want me to get serious? Well fine, but only since you asked nicely. In my youth, I liked to have fun. I like to get out and do my own thing but after college, yes, I did manage to get into a decent community college, I had gotten married to the first woman that my mother said was a keeper. It was only a short little while before we managed to pop out a child. The girl was all legs and...middle anyway. A beautiful baby girl. She was the light of my life. Things got better, I cleaned up, got a job as a pencil pusher. I knew I was happier, and that deep down I still am that person somewhere. It was the best version of myself that I had ever felt. I was happy, singing in the shower and all of that stupidity. Then my eyes were opened. Since that fateful weekend it's like I'm living in a dark room with only myself to keep my company. Only there's screaming from just outside the walls, my little flower begging for help. I guess I'm what you would call, tormented. If you want to label it, and I would really rather that you didn’t. I would rather people just left me alone, and yet for some reason nobody ever does seem to be able to. People just poke and poke and prod whenever I just want to be alone. I work alone, I live alone, I travel alone. I have no time for other people.”

“All in all I guess I just want to be left to do my business. I don't know what's going to become of me once I finish this task, I can wither away for all I care. I wish people would just let me be and then everybody can go away. I don't understand why they insert themselves in my life and then they get all surprised whenever I tell them to piss off and don't kiss at the ground underneath their feet. I'm very set in my ways. I like my beer cold and I like my feet warm and on stable ground. I have my eyes clear, a mission in my heart and I know what my purpose is.”

- - - - Appearance,
"Well, for starters I guess you could say that I was on the tall side, seeing as how most people are a lot shorter than me. But, I'm only six three. I've always been a bigger kid than my peers. It was a good thing i guess, I never got picked last in gym class or anything like that. Most kids liked having the 'big kid' on their football team. Which was something else I was really good. Linebacker, caused me to bulk up a lot. Which, is another thing I guess I should say about my appearance. I used to be a bit on the chunky side. No, that's a lie. I was a little butter ball. But, good for football I could plow right through people. Up until high school, I was still perfect butterball. Then...things, happened and i lost all of the weight. Which is when the girls came....something about 'abs' or whatever. Unfortunately, the sudden weight loss lost me my spot on the football team. Not that it mattered, I have better thing to do with my time than get sweaty and press into other men. My hair? No, I don't do anything to it. It's always sort of had a mind of it's own. Well, thank you I like it too. Now, my face is sort of 'rugged' I guess. I've been told that I must have been a 'cat' in my past life. Whatever that means. I don't always have time to shave in the mornings, but my facial hair likes to be blond so it's not always visible. I've got sort of a big mouth. Unfortunately,my lips, they are on the red side. I've been accused of wearing lipstick more than once. No, I don't wear lipstick. Anyway, nose is normal. My eyes, they are hazel. not much to tell about eyes. They see. so what? Alright, cloths. I don't like labels. So, if it fits, and its clean I'll put it on. My family doesn't have much money so I don't get new stuff often. So most of my jeans look like they are about to fall apart, holes in the knees. Since, instead of eating lunch I used to (no I do other stuff now, no I won't tell you) play football at lunch, I would get more wear and tear than i was supposed to. I get about a new pair of jeans every two months, if I'm lucky. So I've mostly still got my baggy jeans from the butterball days. (No, I'm not telling you my 'weight loss secrets'. Stop asking) My shirts, you can get from Wal Mart in those four packs of white or black. Pretty standard. I've had the same pair of shoes for as long as I can remember. They still fit, and don't stink. So I don't see the point in spending my money on shoes, whenever there are so many better things out there"
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[/color],[/b] Abilene, Texas
- - - - father's name, Ricky Foster
- - - - mother's name, Ivy Foster
- - - - siblings, [x] [_] Foster, Harvard Graduate, twenty eight
[x] [_] Foster, twenty four
[x] [_] Foster twenty »
[x] [_] Foster twenty »
- - - - Daughter Angelique Foster, six »
- - - - non-blood family, “No friends, and no family that I've ever been introduced to.”
- - - - overall history,
"My parents, they didn't exactly know the meaning of Birth control did they? Sure. There are bigger families out there. But they probably aren't as dysfunctional as mine. So. In this case, they really should have said no to all the sex, and yes to the condoms. I mean, whenever you try to shove five teenaged kids into a three bedroom shack with two parents who barely speak to each other. Things are bound to get pretty bad no? Let me tell you, attempting to do what you want whenever you have to share the bedroom with your little snoring brother, things get pretty out of control. Then of course, your annoying little twin sisters always asking you for advice..my older sister is pretty cool I guess. She got her own room, which I'm rather jealous about. Shouldn't the alpha male(meaning me) be the one to get his own room? I mean, honestly. but whatever, I'm over it. Um, well I was born on April 27th, in the same house that I grew up in. We couldn't afford another hospital bill. So the neighbors from up the street, who had a son in medical school delivered me. I know what your thinking, illegal, unsanitary, what if blah blah blah. I turned out fine, and now that little sun of a gun is married to a playboy model raking in millions a year. I think he knew that he was doing. Growing up in my house meant you had to grow up quick. My mother worked like, a million jobs to support us and dad, well in all seventeen years of my life, I don't think that I've ever seen his get off his chair, not even long enough to go to the bathroom. The kids mostly looked out for one another, since we're all pretty close in age, and well I mean we fight all the time but, yea, we're close anyway. We all went to school around the same time, it was a fairly normal childhood minus you know, parental issues. Our parents fought a lot, but they meant good by us. I guess"

"I never was a good student, but that's alright because I think I was the only bad apple in the family, my older sister did pretty good by herself I guess. Well anyway, school was alright. From a very young age, everybody in the family was put into a lot of sports and extracurricular's, keep us out of the hours longer i guess. But we did get to pick. For most of my childhood I was in just about every sport known to man. Even some for women, but they all weeded themselves out. Till it was just football. Now, I was a fat little kid so I played linebacker, and was expected to stay beefy and eat a lot. Whenever we went out after winning games, the coaches would buy me extra meals. No wonder i could have doubled as the Pillsbury dough boy. But then, the summer before my freshman year. This new up and comer, dweeb started rumors that I did steroids. Which is ridiculous if you ask me. I mean, if I had, then I would have been a lot stronger,faster, thinner, healthier etc, would I? But the coaches believed him, and without a tox screen or even checking my stuff to find 'evidence' (which, there wouldn't of been any but...) so they kicked me off the team. I lost all my 'friends' over a stupid rumor, and was forced to find new ones. Which is where I met the crowd that I rolled with that got me into the most trouble, the sole reason that I have a record. They were into some pretty funky shit, but wanting to fit in, and have a place in high school. I became involved in too. Molding me into the man that I am today. I lost a ton of weight, gained some muscle, got the girls. I was having the time of my life. Best of all, I was keeping it from everybody. It was the life most people dream of. Fantastic parties, beautiful women, free booze. What else? Plus, I was learning to deal, so. I was rolling in the money. It was La Bella Vita. The beautiful life."

"Well....beautiful until one night, around the middle of sophomore year. A few buddies and I went out car hopping, and of course, with the ever present push of, well, I think it was a little X, lots of Absinth, and maybe a hit or two off of somebody's bong. I ended up in a jail cell. Judging by the fact i was covered in sweat and glow sticks, it wasn't exactly hard to figure out what I'd been doing all night. They told me I attempted to steal a cherry pie from a stop and go, and then whenever told to pay or put it back, I'd threatened him or something. Now, if i would have told him who was with me. I wouldn't have gotten the lovely juvenile record I have now. But no way In hell was i going to be a nark. So, I spent the first half of my junior year in Juvenile Hall. Which, my slight of hand and more gossip, made me a legend. Who would 'have anybody's back' so whenever i got back to school. Ju-V had been more of a blessing than anything else. Once I was taken off house arrest, I was right back on the streets. La Bella Vita. The only drawback was I couldn't deal out of my house anymore because the cops liked to come around every now and then to check up on me. Gotta give those pigs credit, they aren't stupid. They knew I hadn't 'seen the error of my ways' they knew I was still dealing. I'd just gotten better so that they couldn't catch me in it. So, I'd been forced to do more stuff at school, blah blah blah. onto my senior year. That's whenever Willa walked into my life. Now, I wouldn't admit this to anybody. But, she's a total bitch and most of the time I really can't stand her. Yet, for some reason, being with her, is just so much better than, not being with her. I mean, how somebody can care about a stranger like that I'll never know. She was so honest...it shocked me. I mean, I'd never seen her before. And could only assume that she was one of the many transfer students that had arrived. She was breathtaking, and so damned honest. It was like being slapped in the face by a cool bucket of water. How was I supposed to know the effect that she was going to have on me? We carried on and whenever I brought her home, my mother drove her away. She was the only woman that I had ever cared about in my entire life but because my spoiled 'diva' mother didn't like her, she was given the boot. I never forgave her for scaring away Willa like that”

“I went into the nearest community college by the skin of my teeth. I met the girl that I got hitched to. Her name was Alice and she was a whore. She was pretty enough, and she looked good enough on my arm in public. Behind closed doors it was just like I was home again. I would drink too much and get angry, and she would leave the house a wreck and steal all of my money. I got my first legit job to keep her shopping and happy. I tried to treat her decent, at least a little better than my father treated my mother. She couldn't cook, so I did that. She always used too much bleach in my laundry and managed to put holes in all of my socks, so I ended up doing that too. Somehow, one night we managed to procreate. Alice might not have been anything good for me, but she was a hell of a mother. There was no denying that. Things were good in the house during the hours that Angie was awake. Angie was such a wonderful little gem, and she was spoiled far beyond our means of supporting her properly. She never wanted for anything. Man was she smart, reading before she was three. Angie really spent a long time with her, working on her skills. She started school on time and everything seemed like it was really turning around. Our marriage was just...quiet. Which was better than the alternative. We had Angie, and that was all that we needed to keep us going all the time. Her smile, made me smile. We had her for a wonderful six years with our little lady...six wonderful, perfect years”

“The night was just like anything else really, we had dinner, I reviewed her homework and she took a bath before bedtime. Only, the water affected her differently than it had before. Little things like that had been off all week. She said the water was boiling her skin whenever it was only tepid and things of that nature. She had spices hurt her tongue that had never bothered her before. She had always been such a sweet, perfect little girl. Whenever she had gone to bed that night, her mother had parked her in front of her little vanity mirror, to brush her long flaxen hair into place to keep knots from forming, I guess she just didn't look in the mirror, or she couldn't see it like I could...but I did. I can't ever forget what I saw in that stupid pink mirror that night. It was like a girl, but like her insides were on her outsides. Everything was a rotten grey color, she looked like she was oozing, I didn't know what to do so I yelled, and started into that reflection for a good five minutes. The girl...who had replaced by daughter stared at me the whole time with a bitter smile on her face. She had hissed then at Alice, before scampering out of the room. Not before hissing to me the five words that still, to this day haunt me. 'You'll never see her again' and then she was gone. I don't know what had happened to my daughter, or where she went but I swear that I will find her again. Alice left that night, packed a bag and went and had herself committed. She knew what she had seen, but she refused to believe that it was possible, that anything had happened to her little girl. She couldn't accept it. As far as I know, she's still sitting in the loony bin bashing her head against marshmallow walls. Of course it tore my marriage apart. Not that I really minded losing Alice in the first place. I was only with her because she was a good enough baby sitter for Angelique while I was at work. Otherwise I would have kicked her sorry, no good, cheating ass to the curb a long time ago.”

“The second that those papers were signed, I was off to find her. I know in my gut that she's alive. But she's so young, she was so innocent and wouldn't know how to fend for herself. It didn't take too much looking before I started to see things. The truth of how things really were. Whenever I used to get high I always thought that I saw things, things that couldn't really be explained and now everything was really starting to make sense. Everything was crystal clear for the first time in my life. More seedy clubs, more searching and he found the dirty underbelly of the world. They were called Hunters. And I wanted to be just like them”


- - - - rp sample,
There was a soft, slow tune coming in short bursts from the cracked jute box in the corner. Some pathetic crooning tune about somebody inconsequential and their heart break. ”Don't even know what heart break is” He slurred to himself and anybody who was listening in on his personal dialogue. Slamming the dark glass of his beer bottle down on the bar top a little too hard and the foam started to bubble out of the top quickly. He was forced to lower his mouth back down to the neck of the bottle to slurp noisily to keep from spoiling any drop. He hated to waste anything, most of all alcohol. This would have been shaping up to be a fairly nice night, if it weren't for the flies that seemed to be incessantly buzzing around his head. By flies he meant women, and this group were particularly annoying. He had lost count of the hours a long time ago, he had been in here since it had opened this morning at least...if not earlier if that was even possible. “Please....for the love of all things holy, just leave me the hell alone” Not that he really believed in anything holy anymore. It was more of a figure of speech for him now. She was older, probably in her late forties, but her skin showed some excessive UV damage. She might have been a looker in her younger years, but the decades of smoking combined with habitual drinking had turned her face gaunt. Pair that with sagging skin stuffed into clothing that should have been more fitting for somebody no doubt her granddaughters age she wasn't the least bit appealing. Not to mention her little gaggle of groupies sitting in their booth against the wall were spouting off cat calls and encouragement to their more brazen friend. She had been attempting to buy him drinks, and to wedge herself between him and the bar for the better part of an hour. She didn't seem to be taking the hint, if this was all that this sorry town was able to offer then he was really in for a bad time. He was already the outsider and didn't want to have to prove himself. He just wanted to keep to himself, take care of his business and then just move on. He had only been here a day and a half and already it seemed more like they were just wanting to get inside of his business, put up camp and stay for a good long while.

“Come on good looking, just try me on for size” her weathered, boney old finger reached out to him, stroking down the length of the exposed flesh of his arm with her knuckle. It made him almost gag. She was crossing a line, so long as there had been music to listen to, and beer to be had he had been able to ignore her for the most part. She had been inching closer and closer for awhile now, obviously waiting for him to shove her away or leave. He might have been tempted to go to the bathroom if he didn't think that the old bat would have followed him and trapped him in the stall. Uncomfortable. Chugging down the last of his long neck he grimaced, a low hissing intake of breath resounded from between his teeth. He rose to his feet, his hand fluttering to the sore spot on his ribs as he did so. He towered over the obviously drunk girl. “Take your drunk ass back to the pit that you crawled out of...please” His teeth were grinding together out of pain, and attempting to will her out of existence at the same time. She really was barking up the wrong tree. If only she knew how wrong. Her face crumbled, and she started to spout off obscenities that could have made a sailor turn red with shame. She didn't seem to need to breath, and somehow managed to include lewd comments about herself and her 'hot body' into the same run on triad. He he tried to walk away, he tried to get out of the trap she had set for him, forcing him to keep an uncomfortable angle between her, the bar, and the stool that was welded to the ground. At he was contemplating his predicament, she hoisted her cheap margarita off of the counter and flung it into his face. All he could smell was drug store tequila and feel the bits of sludge dripping down his face. His jaw set, anger flooding up to his ears.

He lifted his fingers to his eyes, and swept off the excess liquid, flinging it out to either side of his body. Did she really just do what he thought that she had? He was offended for two reasons, one, because she had been the one to throw herself at him. Since he chose not to catch some sort of sexually transmitted disease from her, he was the jerk? Two, because she had wasted a perfectly good drink. It wasn't like he was strapped for cash exactly, but his secret stash of savings was starting to dwindle. He didn't spend money whenever he didn't have to and she was forcing him to empty his pockets faster than he had wanted to. He lifted an index finger to tell her off, or to physically remove her from his company. Then she punched him. Stupid broad had watched for his sign of weakness, and whenever she had finally gotten the point that he didn't want her company she had punched him in the ribs. His vision spun out of focus ever so slightly and he was forced to grasp onto the bar top for support. He was wheezing now, and that was a more miserable feeling than whenever he had gotten the wound in the first place. She turned and attempted to 'strut her stuff' back to her group of friends who were now calling him a jerk, a scumbag, and not good enough for her. Sometimes he really hated women. Bitch had to of cracked his already fractured ribs. He felt the need for a doctor, but knew he wouldn't be able explain how he had gotten the injuries. He was going to be out of commission for far longer than would be possible...or he was just going to have to risk it. He felt his eyes close for a moment as he recalled the injuries. Last night had been a whirlwind. His first lead in months and he had gotten away he had never seen the damned barbs coming. The damn thing had gotten the best of him. He had managed to just get out of the way in time, the barb had jutted out of her wrist so quickly...it had broken straight through his shirt and ripped away the flesh on his ribs. Luckily nothing serious had been punctured, and nothing was worse than bruising. It was his ego that was broken, which was better than his ribs by far. He wasn't used to this yet, to the hunting. Sure, he had shot his share of buck and brought home his fair share of fish with ease but this...this was something entirely different. He was still growing accustomed to how this all worked. The proper way to slay each thing was different. There was a feel to the way his arrow would leave it's notch, or the way his finger would itch just before he would pull back the trigger. His targets had never looked mostly human before .Nearly everything that he encountered now, looked human. The one he had been sparring with last night, looked no older than thirteen. He had had it on good authority that she was from the same 'group' as the bloodthirsty succubus that had been the last to know anything about his daughter. He felt like the path was growing colder and colder each and every day. He just wasn't used to the hurting. Deer hardly ever fought back. This girl had been spry, and learned of his lack of skill rather quickly.

The rest...was, just a blur. He still wasn't sure how he had managed to make it back to his motel room in one piece, or how he had managed to make it here at all. He assumed that his train of thought had been that drinking would dull the pain. Leaning over the counter, hand holding his ribcage gingerly, he grabbed a bottle of jack and told the bar keep to put it on her tab. Without second thought, he turned around and limped his way outside. He was really screwed now.

(Pardon the shortness, I was just tired of looking at it)



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[BRITTNEY ?!]