WESLEY, WILLIAM

[howl]

Player's Name: Howl
Other Characters: Nope. Nada.
Contacts: PM or C-box. E-mail is also fine; [e-mail]
Random Fact: I'm Swedish...? Erh, I love reading about medicine and psychology and I adore mimicking sounds and accents.

Name: William Wesley
Alias: Billy, Will, Willy, Wes.
Age: Sixteen
Birthday:November 2nd
Gender: Male
Species: Human
Social Class: Poor
Job/Position: Thief/Street-performer
Sexual Preference: Bisexual

Hair: Billy's hair was a dark chocolate brown, usually cropped short on the sides and fringe left to grow long enough to constantly get in the way of his eyesight. When it became too tangled to save with a comb ( that he rarely touched) he took matters into his own hands and chopped it off with a knife, leaving it uneven and ridiculous-looking. His hair was thick, and its texture slightly coarse, when it had been washed. However, Billy rarely washed his hair, and so was left with stringy strands of mattered hair that no one was really in the mood to touch.
Eyes: Billy's eyes were a pale baby blue, intensified by his dark lashes and thick, dark brows.
Height: Five feet Three inches
Weight: One hundred pounds

For being such a small, scrawny looking boy, Billy sure was tough. Like a dog he’d growl and snarl and act like a rabid beast... until he realized that he was the underdog. Then he would whimper and squeak, saying he never meant any harm.
But even though people tended to constantly put him in his place, Billy never stopped acting as if he was the toughest young man that had ever walked the streets of London. He was proud of who he was, however, his pride was usually what got him into trouble.

Apart from having a big mouth with which he had a tendency to say the wrong things at the wrong times, Billy was incredibly high-strung.
Such simple things as an extra piece of bread in his possession could make him nearly bounce of the walls, and there was just an energy around him that gave him a very nervous impression. He found it incredibly difficult to sit still, and he was way too easily distracted as well.
Pretty things. Glittery things. Loud things. The whole world could have been set on fire around him, and Billy still would find it difficult to look away from a brightly colored piece of satin.

He was a bit possessive at times, and while he refused to admit that he needed anyone ( or anything ), he craved human affection enough to, when someone offered it, grow loyal to a fault.
Kind words and a bit of flattery was always enough to win him over, and anyone who offered it was sure to find that Billy could, however tough he wanted to look, be affectionate in return.

Though Billy always acted as if the life on the streets was enough to satisfy his every need, he longed for a proper life just like everybody else.
A family, someone who cared, a warm bed and some nice clothes. As well as the ability to read and write and learn everything that those rich folks did.
Billy had an thirst for knowledge and to prove himself worthy. He clung to whatever information given, and if anyone was up for telling a story, Billy would surely be in the front row, eyes wide and jaw slack in wonder. He couldn’t count for the life of him, but if someone had once told him that two plus two equaled four, he’d remember it. He wouldn’t be able to tell anyone was two plus three was. But two plus two. Now that. That equaled four.
He was curious about everything and everyone, the little street rat, and would at times go through great lengths in order to find out things that really weren’t for him to know.

William Wesley was born on November 2nd at a brothel in London, to a young, pretty prostitute who had no idea what to do with a child.
Though the best thing probably would have been to leave him at an orphanage, she decided to keep her son.
And though he loved him, like any mother loved her child, she had no idea how to raise a child, and was definitely not fit to raise one either.
An opium-addicted, full-time prostitute of a mother...Well, The first four years of Billy's life were harsh. Beaten, belittled and left to witness what strangers did to his mother...
Well, it left him repulsed by 'love', and with a fear of women that left him unable to be alone with one without fear coiling in his gut, making him nauseas and shaky.
The spring after his fourth birthday, his mother decided that a child was of no use to her, and left her son on the streets, like a diseased dog she didn't have the heart to put down.
And life was rough with little Billy, who quickly learned how to beg and steal in order to survive.
The streets became his territory, and within a few years he knew the city like the back of his own hand. He knew whom each shop was owned by, as well if they were kind or not to street rats like him.
When begging wasn't enough, Billy turned to street-performing.
He had always been strangely flexible, and while he couldn't for the life of him understand why people found it so interesting, he was not in a place to deny them a good show.
It kept his stomach full, and that was honestly all that mattered.

Besides, standing on two hands and moving his legs forwards until he could put his feet around his throat, was much more preferred to walking the streets and letting men use his body for their own pleasure.
Physical intimacy had come to scare him, and while he enjoyed having his hair petted, he had come to feel great discomfort whenever someone tried anything more.
Of course, there were always people who tried to force their affection on others. But Billy was never one to let people run him over.
He was a fighter.
A small, squeaky, physically weak fighter...But a fighter none the less.

At the age of sixteen, Billy still roamed the streets. He had been sent to orphanages at times , but had escaped within a few days after he had come to realize how awful it was for a person like him.
Sure, they had provided food, clothes and a place to sleep...
But Billy wasn't one to follow the rules just because someone had said they were to be followed.
And because of that, he had a patchwork of scars across his back, as well as the back of his thighs and arms.
Lovely little reminders from people who had been unable to put him in his place with the help of canes and belts.

I have read and agreed to the rules of this site. I hereby recognize that my disobedience of these terms will result in punishment at the sole discretion of the admins.

Signed: Howl