MONTGOMERY; Finley Elise

[Finley Montgomery]

( Finley Elise Montgomery ! )

Name: Finley Elise Montgomery
Nicknames: Finn
Age: Thirty
Date of Birth: September 12 1980
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Played by: Bradley Cooper

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( You see I've got this american love ! )

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Height: 5’8
Weight: 160
Physical Description:

His eyes are, as people say, a masterpiece (although there was no work necessary). Born like the darkest region of the seas, his eyes are a deep, sinister color; a combination of the greyest and lightest blue. On occasion the young mans eyes seem tinted with a mischievous glint or the anger of a titan, but as a majority, the thing that filled them the most was wonder. And it showed.

His hair (or that’s what they are calling it now and days) is nothing but a wavy mess of dark and light brown atop his head, going down to his ears in the front, and in the back about three inches past them. His bangs are parted to the right side of his forehead, but he tends to always push them back and out of his eyesight. When his hair gets long, it’s a very curly mess. Finley does try to keep it clean, but sometimes his job gets in the way of going to get it cut.

Finn has always had a toned body, and in college he could eat all he wanted and just burn it all off playing with the boys or going to swim class. It’s not like that today, and while his assistant tries to make him eat healthy, a salad is not what you want be eating when you have a lunch date to talk about the new foreign operations bill. He still tries to get into the pool every couple of days and work out on the treadmill, but time is of the essence and he barely has any.

His face is very chiseled, his jaw line and cheekbones pulling people in more then anything else. It is the most defined thing on his face. When he wants to give you a very cheeky look, he lifts up his right upper lip, making a very nasty sneer. He doesn’t like his nose all that much, because Finley feels as if it is too wide for the rest of his face. Finn’s eyebrows are very bushy, but not unkempt. There isn’t much he can do about it though, because he isn’t one for the pain of plucking or waxing, but sometimes in the summer time his eyebrows get so light they seem to the standard passerby to not even by present on his face. This is also the reason why he doesn’t do anything about his semi-hairy chest. He’s a bit of a worrier, so when freaking out over something he likes to bit his nails. He has tried to stop this nasty habit but, then his nerves kick in and he just can’t help himself.



Physical Flaws:
- He has a ‘midget’ pink toe on his left foot.
-Dumbo ears
-Large pores of blackheads on his nose when he doesn’t clean his face
-Dark circles under his eyes
-Bitten nails. Sometimes you can see blood underneath them from where he has ripped the nail off.

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( A brand new black hole in the solar system ! )

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Likes:
-Cooking
-Comic Books
-Running
-Smoothies
-Politics
-Wine and/or Whiskey
-Yo-Yo Ma
-Showers
-A humorous woman
-Winter
-His tailored suits
-Honda’s
-The Sunday Morning Times
-UFC
-Art

Dislikes:
-People who know nothing about the world around them
-‘Talkers’
-Cleaning
-Britney Spears
-The planner on his desk
-Children
-Dating sites
-The Hummer
-Lawyers
-Sparkling water
-Alaska
-His mother’s logic for his middle name

Overall Personality:

Environmentalist:

Finley is one of those people, who just cannot stand by and watch the world slowly diminish into a pile of trash and smog. He used to love going to the park in his spare time and picking up pieces of trash that are stuck into nearby trees and bushes. The world isn’t your own personal waste receptacle.


Mature:

Finley tries his hardest to not blow up over silly things, like someone sitting on his writing desk, and save his fighting energy for a more just cause. Even still though, he doesn’t really like the whole idea of fighting with someone. A heated conversation with a hand shake at the end, but if some hot head comes up to him after a galla and wants to ‘have a go’ for looking at his Mistress, he just sighs and walks on. He feels people like that don’t deserve a response. There is only one exception to the ‘fighting’ rule he tries to live by, and that is wrestling with anyone. Okay, so maybe he isn’t that mature after all when it comes to still wanting to be a kid. But when the grown-up world calls, Finley is willing to answer.


Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde:

He sort of flip-flops back and forth from the 'deep thinker' and the 'party boy.' What a lot of people don't understand, and the boy can't really understand them for not understanding, is that it is possible to be both at the same time. It just requires a bit of multi-tasking. Discussing poetry while drinking your brain cells into extinction really isn't as difficult as most people would make it out to be. His mother attributes this bizarre phenomenon to Finley's DNA. She insists that he must have some sort of gift from god. She'd even taken the boy to several doctors in an attempt to find some sort of tonic for his outburst, but sadly, there was none, and Finley is always going from one dramatic to the next.


Artistic:

Essentially everyone in this world is creative. Everyone can do something someone else cannot; everyone has a little talent or two. Finley cannot be described with creative, because that is too general for what kind of work Finn can create when he fully puts his mind to it. He’s a highly artistic person, and those are the only words that fit him. Finn prefers free, unstructured situations with maximum opportunities for self-expression; He’s always had a great need for individual expression, hence why he took the art class at when he was eight. His mother pushed him towards it and it has been his calling ever sense.

Nerd:

It is said that Nerd is a term often bearing a derogatory connotation or stereotype, that refers to a person who passionately pursues activities that involve esoteric knowledge, or other obscure interests rather than engaging in more social or popular activities. Therefore, a nerd is often excluded from physical activity and considered a loner by peers, and this term is completely true. Finn is a nerd is all aspects, not really wanting to hang around with girls who have big boobs, but rather a fifty year old Congressman who will argue with him over the new health bill that is in trying to be passed. It’s ridiculous what lengths Finley will go to for a good conversation. He also likes stupid conversations, but not one’s with some woman sporting a double D cup and the topic of the day is what color of pink she should wear tomorrow. He was done with meaningless crap when he got out of high school. Curling up with his limited edition Spiderman comic trumped having sex any day…..Well, almost.


Master Chief:

Cooking is his passion. He loves to do it in his spare time, because his job does come first. He would rather cook dinner for a date then take her out to an overpriced restaurant. He hates making things with tofu, but he will do it if time and inspiration permits. Normally, he’ll come home, take out the nearest meat and just start to chop away. Experimenting is half the fun!

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( I'll dig my grave but I just can't stand to step inside ! )

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Family:

Mother:
-Ella Lynn Montgomery
-Housewife and artist
-54

Father:
-Bryon Laurence Montgomery
-Professor at UCLA
-56

Sister:
-Stella Michael Montgomery
-Peace Corps.
-25


Pets: NONE
Home Town: Pasadena, Cailfornia
Job:Speech Writer
History:


Birth:
Finn was conceived in a art gallery, his mother used to own one, and let’s just say art really turned Ella and Bryon on. His mother hadn’t known she was pregnant until her sixth month, and she was told that there was a high chance of her loosing the baby. For the next six months the poor girl was running around her own house in utter panic, to afraid that she would ruin her first chance to have a child. Ella had always been a very lucky woman, and when she went into labor on September 22, 1980 she was given an eight pound three ounce baby. Considering they were in the pre-me ward, he was very easy to pick out among his peers. Finley was noticed as something special from the day he came out of the womb. Finn was his parents pride and joy. From the moment they left the hospital, Ella and Bryon drilled it into his pretty little head that he was an individual, and that following the crowd wasn’t something anyone should want to do. So while every other little boy in California was playing with G.I. Joes and having bike races, Finn was learning about the African culture and playing with wooden 3D puzzles his mother had specially shipped from Finland. As he grew older, he kept being the individual he was brought up as, and he kept not having friends to play with. It did not help that he was home-schooled by his mother until the ninth grade. His sister was becoming a handful and his constant badgering about not having children his own age to interact with, how on earth would he handle the real world. So, she chunked him into the lions den with a packed lunch and a reminder to call 911 if anyone so much as breathed on his shoulder.

High school:

Somehow, but a sheer act of magic and wonder, Finley entered and excelled in the world of public school. He was good looking, and very interested in sports. Jocks kept of him because he was on the swim team, and girl loved his charming smile. Not that he cared much about them at the time. Academics were his number one goal because he knew that is what would get him into the college of his dreams. He worked hard, missing school dance after party after football game, and his hard work landed him a spot as valedictorian. To Finn, he could care less if he was the only man who didn’t get laid on prom night, he was going to Notre Dame.

College:
Notre Dame was amazing. He loved the professors and his roommate. He also loved the women. They seemed to understand the art of the genius. They seemed to flock to him like lost lamb, but none of really caught his interest. He didn't want a meanless one night stand, or some nasty hook-up. His was the real thing kinda guy. Good things do come in small packages, and one night at Mood, a shitty bar in town, Finn was handed a very good thing indeed. Her name was Amelia, and she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. She was smart, funny, and she seemed to get the kind of guy Finley wanted to become. They hit it off very quickly, and they next thing he knew he was asking her if he could follow her into the bathroom. When he hoisted her up on the sink, he couldn’t smell the nasty combination of throw up and beer; all he could smell is a combination of Scotch, cinnamon, and vanilla -nothing had ever smelled sweeter. Even though all they had done was made out, Finley knew they had made a connection. You can imagine his surprise when the woman who was taking up all his thoughts showed up as his new Introduction into English Literature teacher. They both had a shock reaction to the meeting. Finley couldn’t help but feel sick inside, and he ran outside and threw up. Eventually they talked about it, and decided it was best that they kept their relationship going in secret. only meeting off campus and at her apartment. They were together for six months and Amelia was Finn's first. But then, because of all the rumors that starting going around when a student saw them at a market together, she eventually broke it off. He was broken up about the whole thing, but he still pressed on. He graduated Notre Dame on the dean’s list, and enrolled himself into Harvard to finish his schooling, getting his PHD in English and Political Science. It was hard, and thousands of dollars, loans, grants, and scholarships later, he moved back to Pasadena, California and was picked up by a local man who wanted to run for a the Senate. Finn had thought he would start out small at first, but for some reason he had made a good impression on this man a while back, and he was just waiting for the school clock to ring and let Finley out. All Finley could do was reassure him that he was worth the wait.

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( Big hearts are for breaking ! )

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Name: Lizz
Age: Eighteen
Experience: Six Yearsss
Other Accounts:Nada and admin changed.
Role Play Sample:

"Most Holy and Adorable Trinity,
one God in three Persons,
I firmly believe that You are here present;
I adore You with the most profound humility;
I praise You and give You thanks with all my heart for the favors You have bestowed on me. Your Goodness has brought me safely to the beginning of this day.
Behold, O Lord, I offer You my whole being and in particular all my thoughts, words and actions, together with such crosses and contradictions as I may meet with in the course of this day….”



A mans voice filled room number eight as the morning dawned on them all, awaking even the deepest of sinners from their slumber. If you would have peaked through the keyhole, you would have seen Cash Warren Hawkins on his knees, elbows propped up on the bed with a rosary in hand. His lips were moving, and if his thumb moved any faster over the cross you could be sure he would have set fire to it. No, this was not the brown haired boys every day routine, this was a new ritual he was trying out, just for today. Cash was not a 'church-goer', per say. He did not get up early on Sunday mornings, put on his best suit and tie, and arrive to listen to what he called 'the mistranslated words of old men'. Church was usually bullshit, in fact, he had told people this on many occasions and he had denounced his believe in god by the tender age of sixteen. So why if the boy didn’t believe in such biblical stories was he now seen on his knees at the mercy of ‘the almighty being’? That is a very good question, and one that could only be answered by going back in time, about a week before all of this.


He had awoken in a very calm manner, in a bed that was not his. He didn’t mind this however, because he had remembered getting very intoxicated the previous night and going home with a rather fiery redhead, who was in this house as well. He found this out much later though, after he had surpassed freak-out mode and his minor depression of not being able to live his life as he normally did. The first day he was very standoffish towards everyone, and didn’t eat at all. In fact, he sat on the couch in the foyer for most of the day, staring blankly at the wall. They say people handle bad news in the own right, but Cash downright shoved all his bad news under a very dirty rug. It wasn’t until the fourth day of sitting on the couch did Cash finally feel the needs to move around, perhaps so much as stretch and eat.

The kitchen scared him a little, for he had heard talk from everyone who sat around him and passed by him that it seemed to be haunted. The food seemed to restock itself, and the dishes would wash themselves. Even the bedrooms would be clean and tidy for the tenants when they awoke, the scent of pinewood filling their nasal cavities. Cash found this very weird that overnight people crept into the house and cleaned with them snoring no more then five feet away, but I guess that was one of the ‘perks’ you got here. You didn’t have to lift a finger, just as long and you knew you were here for something horrible. And know everyone did. He still watched the people that passed him by and the expression on their faces. Each of them seemed to be racking their brain for what could have possibly gotten them into this, and how they could ever get out alive. Cash had let his mind wonder over this topic a few times before, but he tried not to dwell on such horrible things like death for, him and body bags don’t go well together.

And this, my friends, is why we see the boy talking to the big man upstairs right now. He wants to make sure that all his ducks are in a row, and he thought perhaps, just perhaps, he would give the whole god thing a shot once more to see if the ‘lord and savior’ got him out of this nightmare. “Give them, O Lord, Your blessing; may your divine Love animate them and may they tend to the greater honor an…oh fuck this shit.” And with that, the chanting was done and the boy was up on his feet. Cash must have felt that no god could save his ass this time, therefore what was the point in even trying? He proceeded to throw the rosary onto the floor, and stomp out of the room, not failing to check himself in the process. Yes, even though he was kidnapped in a house, he still wanted to look better then everyone else, and around here that was harder then it seemed. Sure, his looks were seemly flawless, but the attire was the worst thing he had ever put on his body.

Honestly, Cash confessed in one of his many tiffs with Addison that he would rather be walking around naked with pig’s blood dripping from him then in these pieces of trash. The jeans were very farmer, and the white beaters Cash had been given made him want to go into the hood and shoot up some gangsters with a damn doo-rag on. He remembers the first time he ever opened the closet, he took one look and the clothes and threw them all out, refusing to let any of that nasty, trashy, shit touch his body. But once again on the fifth morning, he was awoken with his closet back to the way it was, and a simple note that said ‘You’re welcome.’ On it. This set his adjustment to the ways of the house back about an hour, but after this he rarely threw fits about what he was given. His mother would always remind him that dogs do not bite the hand that feeds them, and that Cash shouldn’t either. He never really knew what this meant until that very day.

After making sure his necklace could be seen and his hair was the way he liked it, he decided that it was now time to brush his teeth. Two years of braces and six thousand dollars later, you got Cash’s semi pearly whites. Sure, they weren’t as bright and shiny as he would have liked, but this is due to all of those black coffee’s he drank when he was in the outside world from starbucks, and still drank now. He knew it was bad for him, but still he never got the thought into his head of stopping. No, because this would mean facing why he was in this mess and changing his ways. He wasn’t going to do that for anyone, not even a damn old ass house or its creepy landlord that kept him hostage.

Finally, after at least a three minute walk on an ugly wooden floor, he made it to the bathroom. He had only gone into this particular bathroom once before, and he had to say it was one of his favorite’s. Downstairs the bathrooms were very quick, just having a sink and a toilet along with a quote unquote ‘high-school’ type shower. But in here, it was a bit more personal. Yes, even though it was still showers and no bath, these were graced with maroon colored curtains to give you a bit of privacy all around. Wooden wall to your left, wooden wall to your right, and then maroon curtain, it was all a very nice setup. The floors were marble, once again giving hint that this house was built in he Victorian era, and the sinks, oh well those were just made to match the floor! Inside the showers there sat shampoo and conditioner, one set for men and one set for women, each color safe. Cash found it especially thoughtful that ‘Me’ went so far as to put at least one dandruff removal conditioner in each little shower nook. He found it almost comical that their kidnapper wanted to make sure they didn’t have dry scalp.

Cash shuffled his feet towards the sink and took a toothbrush out of the bin. Yes, there was a bin at each sink, with at least thirty to forty disposable toothbrushes inside of them. He was just about to stick the toothbrush into his mouth and attack those cavities when the water in the shower behind him turned on. Cash’s eyes soon became wider, and his mouth hung slack. This couldn’t be. No one had walked in while he was here, and he sure as hell had been alone, or so he thought. He glanced into the mirror, and quickly found out it was not a ghost that had made the water come on, but one of hi roommates. They had a lilac towel with them, and it was hanging on the sink next to him.

A very devilish smirk crawled across his face as he carefully set the toothbrush down and walked a tiny bit closer to the shower that was making all the noise. If they thought it would be cute to scare the living daylights out of him, well, he was going to do the same. Cash’s smirk didn’t fade when he saw Piper peak out from behind the curtain, in face, some would have sworn it got even bigger. Why didn’t he knock? Well, that was a nice bitchy question and all, but what the hell did she want him to knock on, the curtain? Oh yes, that seems totally natural. “Well, if it isn’t little Peter Piper and her devilish eyes glaring back at me. I didn’t knock because, this is a rather huge bathroom fit for three, that’s two more people then you sweet-cheeks. And what did you want me to knock on anyways, your curtain? Hell if you wanted me that close to your naked body I could just jump in there with you and make the gesture even less awkward then what you’re suggesting.” Yes, he knew her name, even though he had only seen her a few times. Cash listened to his surroundings very well, and he had been trying to get to know what he had to work with here. Piper was so strange; it was if she walked through the house like she just wasn’t getting it. There had been times when he wanted to draw out a poor map for the girl, as if to say “You are here…This is why…” but he never seemed to have a heart for breaking the deranged spirit she strutted around with. At the mention of the towel, his right eyebrow raised as if he was really thinking about doing her this great service. Once again, Cash Warren weighed his pros and cons. This one really wasn’t a hard case to crack, she made the stupid enough mistake of laying the towel there, and now she had to walk and get it. “Oh, hand you that towel over there?” he asked her with mock concern seeping through his teeth, pointing to where the cotton object lay. “Shucks I would, but then you would never learn would you? When we take showers, we hang the towels of the shower curtain so bad things like this don’t happen.” Ah yes, today was going to be a wonderful trip to the bathroom.

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( Now there's no turning back ! )

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[Michael Brentley]

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