Character Name: Chandler Scott.
Nickname: Prince, Pretty Boy, Etc.
Age: Eighteen Years Old.
Gender: Male
Grade: Senior
Subject: N/A.
Race: Ghost
Play-by: Channing Tatum.
Appearance:

Standing at six foot two and weighing in at one hundred and sixty pounds, this male is well off on his physique, lined with toned muscles, especially those around his abdominal area, for that is what brings in his female customers, after all, they pay their fair share to view he and other boys strut around the stage barely clad in anything, dancing for their pleasure, though who is he to complain, the attention of all this gives him the confidence to pretty much do anything, whether it be striking up a conversation with a stranger or stripping down to the bare necessities as a means of placing another meal on the table. On his right arm, around his bicep, there is a tattoo of the American flag, showing his pride for his country, having fought for it without a second thought of hesitation, even though it was illegal for him to do so at that age, but no one knew, nor did they care, as long as they got more recruits all was fine. Scars litter his frame in various areas, mainly grazing around his back from the bullets that whistled through the air, and even though he was a ghost at the time, he did not acknowledge that fact and stayed solid, so that the actual artillery could harm him.

His flesh is lightly tanned from all those hours beneath the sun, sweating from overexertion, though he loves to exercise, that luscious burn within his frame making him long for more, reminding him of better times, if there ever were such a thing to call that. His hair is naturally made up of straight or slightly waved follicles, and he normally styles it up, never growing it too long nor cropping it too short, unless if it was back when he was still in the war, which was mandatory for him personally, since he didn’t want to spend the time grooming his mane. It’s a light shade of chestnut, sometimes darkening to an ochre, though not too drastic, and soft to the touch when properly maintained. His pools are twin optics of a greenish-gray shade, like a stormy ocean is one were to put it that way, coated in fresh seaweed, and these are the liveliest organs of his whole entire body, twinkling and sparkling with his amusement when he chooses to show it, either that or his flickers of power.

Guise is finely sculptured, though ever since his childhood, that was always covered in a layer of dirt, since living on the streets didn’t have the luxuries of showering every day or sleeping in a warm bed, no, he had to take his thin blanket and sleep on the cold streets, though that was alright with him, he was alive, at that was what mattered, so whenever someone feels cold, you can expect Chandler not to feel it, due to the fact of his experience, and that he is a ghost, something excluded by him. His general attire is that of tightly fit clothing that presents his build to the world, mainly jeans and shirts, once in a while the military-esque sort of outfit, to remember the time when he was a part of something, making him feel important and he likes that, hence why he tries to get attention out in New Orleans. Now when at his ‘job’, the ghost dons a variety of costumes that drive the women wild, ranging from police officers to firemen, lifeguards to cowboys, it’s whatever those of the opposite gender holler for, though once in a while there is the male that is a part of their audience, explaining why he isn’t picky.

Personality:

Serious && Experienced. This male is quite the serious specimen of this race, for he usually has a straight face, like a statue when in public, mainly at school, though it is because of the fact that he doesn’t like to show his pain, for that is what people take advantage of, especially when he was a lonely child, humans teasing him instead of sparing just a quarter for the little kid to go buy a slice of bread, and that had hardened his heart a bit, though he still doesn’t keep it against anyone, just bottling it up within him, knowing the cruelty of the world. This trait had also been infused to him within his time in the military, where nonsense was not accepted, so he was forced at an early age to act like a formidable adult, obeying all rules and doing his assignments without hesitation, for this was at least one place that gave him food and shelter, so he wasn’t about to get himself kicked out just to hang out with the ‘cool’ vagabonds of the platoon, he just saw them as idiots rather than as badasses, he gave them no praise. The ghost is quite experienced with two things, life and making due. He knows what’s out in the earth, be it criminals, he had no parents, so there was no guardian to shield him from such horrors, so he barely flinches anymore at the mention of a massacre or rape, for he had seen it all, from the wars he was in, or just by seeing it happen in the streets, guilt always killing him because he was too small to help those being attacked. Now, when it comes to making money, he knows what wins the females over at the clubs, the right sway of his hips, when to begin tearing off his costume, that’s how he makes his coins to pay for the food that he once never could afford, finally happy that there was one thing after the military that would be able to keep him alive, the heat of all that sustenance in his belly placing a smile on his face. Due to that, you will see the American eat quite a bit, since he likes to experiment new cuisine, never saying he dislikes any of that, for he appreciates all morsels of a dish.

Romantic && Gentlemanly. Maidens, and the occasional brute, are Chandler’s kryptonite, the things that make him charming once they worm his way into his eyes, especially the prior, for he never runs out of ideas to make his day, whether it be placing a rose at their door, or just complimenting them with his honey-like vocabulary, he believes everyone is beautiful in their own way, and he makes it a quest to find that within all of them, letting them know what it is. He is still old fashioned in the manners of courting those who particularly interest him, the date and a movie scene, or just serenading them from outside of their dorm, and with that said, girls who don’t fling themselves at every moving male, or are overtly sexual, catch his eye, especially those who are shy and humble, but with their own little fires when it is triggered. He hasn’t settled down yet, of course, for most dames wouldn’t approve of his occupation, but until he gets his educational degree, this is the only thing he is best at, so most of his girlfriends only stayed with him for a few months until they discovered what his ‘job’ was. Prince is a gentleman through and through, holding the doors open, pulling out the date’s chair for them, letting the conversation settle on them rather than bragging about himself, he has his morals about not pushing someone into sex, practically all of these rules set in his head on their own, for there was no father or mother to teach him about these things. He is a good friend for those who are constantly in relationship troubles, for he is protective of them, defending all from those who want to hurt them, and maybe that is when a flicker of his temper comes out, along with the power infused into him within the military. Unless he is truly in a moment of lust or fury, not a single curse word will leave his lips, it’s just the way his brain his formed, he finds them dirty, though if his companion utters them, he doesn’t mind, it’s just himself that he doesn’t permit to slur, the aforementioned events the only exceptions, his dominance coming out with that as well, for just like a dog in the alleys, you had to be top dog to survive, so since being a kid he was used to fighting for the scraps in trashcans.

Confused. This is probably the largest part about Chandler, and it is that he is horribly confused about who he is, mainly his current form, for he still thinks that he is living as a human, he cannot grasp the fact that he is indeed dead, a ghost more correctly. Thus he lives as if he is still alive, fully solid, never using his ability to become transparent or what-not, letting himself be injured by bullets in the war, but truthfully, he really doesn’t know that he is dead, he thinks he just woke up one day as a child, thinking he just felt different because he was sick or something, and then got used to it, continuing to live as if nothing had happened. If anyone questions him and tells him that he’s a ghost, he just laughs and shakes his head, thinking that they are joking with him, then becoming puzzled when they keep pushing it, for he doesn’t understand what they mean, he is still alive damn it, it’s not polite to be playing such games, and so this is how most of his relationships crash to the ground, because he can’t wrap his head around the fact that he isn’t really here anymore, Chandler Scott had died over ten years ago, one of the worst ways an eight year old could, by starvation, his body literally eating himself from the inside out until there was nothing left for it to consume, no muscle mass, just a carcass of bones, so it was done, he passed away in his sleep, and so perhaps that is why he now doesn’t remember how he died, nor that fact that he did pass away from mother nature’s own hand.

History:

Born on a frigid night within the month of December, Chandler Scott was left on the doorstep of a church, his parents nowhere to be seen, and because of that, he really doesn’t have a last name, and instead uses his middle title as it, so that people don’t question as to why he didn’t have a surname, for that always leads to him recoiling in sadness that he had parents that didn’t want him, leaving him with the nuns that despised him, trying to turn him into a religious maniac, so at the ripe age of five, still really a baby, he had waddled out the back door, escaping into the streets where he did the impossible and began living on his own, eating food from the trash, which was really no better than the meals given to him by the establishment where he was taken into. He survived by himself, the occasional kind soul giving him half of their sub or sandwich, those days his absolute favorites, for the cuisine was actually fresh and delicious, as if the angels from above had blessed him with their hugs and kisses, affections he always longed for by guardians, though they never came.

Life went on as expected, the boy witnessing murders, rapes, robberies, all these crimes in front of his eyes, because when you lived on the streets, that’s all you saw from your little cardboard box, which was your makeshift home, and he learned the horrid things of the world at a mere age. He made it to his seventh birthday when someone had reported that there was a kid living alone, starving, though he hid from child services and the police when they came searching for him, he was afraid of going to a foster home, the other homeless children telling him of its torture, so he never emerged for days, and soon enough the law enforcement gave up, guessing he had died or gone back home or something, so he went back to scavenging for meals and that was when he found his first toy, a little stuffed rabbit, as dirty and lonely as he was, to which he took it and named it Samael, a male angel’s name he remembered from those lessons at the church, appointing it as his protector, and he carried the toy around with him all seconds of the day, his first friend and family member.

One day, when he was eight years old, Prince hadn’t eaten for a week, nearing on its second, which was just straining on his life strings, it was cold, a winter month, he was curled up on a thin blue blanket, clutching on to his bunny, tears involuntarily streaming down his cheeks, and he felt the need to go to sleep, which was what he did, falling into its clutches, but there was one thing. He never woke up. Unbeknownst to the boy, he had died of starvation, though he came back as a ghost the next day, so it was engraved into his mind that he just had taken a nap, though now he wasn’t hungry, and felt great! Thus he thought that Samael had helped him, to which he hugged the object and continued on with his life, thinking that he was alive, not grasping the point that he was dead, too innocent for that, no one teaching him that there was no possible way for you to come back to life, that he was now a ghost, so his years began flurrying on by without anything stopping him, loving this new energetic aura around him.

Though it didn’t last for long, for he was hungry again after a two year period of just feeling like he was on a sugar high, now back to the previous conditions he was back in, and at sixteen years old, he searched for anything that would be able to sustain him, and that was when he turned to the army, though he sneaked in, underage recruit unnoticed, they needed more people so they didn’t complain, and he was given meals, clothes, and a home, at the cost of fighting all the time, but they also gave him an education. He was very intelligent, whisking by all the lessons that he missed earlier on in his life, so now he was caught up with all the other teens, now at their level if not a bit higher with his sponge-like capacity, and soon it was the event that placed him in a bunch of wars, battling without hesitation, injured by bullets here and there, because since he thought he was still a human, he wouldn’t will himself to revert to his apparition form. He spent twenty four months in the army before being sent to this school for some reason unknown.

It probably was when a werewolf had scented that he was a supernatural and he sent the information to the school, who then deported him to their establishment, hence why he was confused when the general sent him off with a respectful handshake and nod, praising him for being a good soldier before he went on the bus that took him here, but now he had no occupation to pay for his clothes and food, so that was when he saw the ads in the newspaper. A club was looking for male strippers, and Chandler was a fairly good looking fellow with an equally as sculpted body, so he was the perfect candidate as he applied and got the position, not at all embarrassed to drop down to his underclothing for the audience, and now he is a regular favorite for both private and public sessions. Student by day, exotic dancer by night, this ghost is certainly having his fair share of this new life, and he hopes to make the best of it, just to keep living on and making new friends that will fill in the void in his heart that he had all his existence, and who knows, maybe he’ll find that special someone here too.

xx. He has a soft spot for orphans, since he was one as well, and every week he takes a portion of his money earned and donates it to the orphanages :3 Plus he visits them all the time to show them that they aren't alone ;w;

Name: SilentCallings<3
Your Age: Fourteen.
Other Characters:

** Matt Jarrett Quinn<3
** Allison Bliss<3
** Tremaine Morgan<3
** Giselle Lapollo<3

Contact Information:

** Email<3
** PM<3

How you found us:

Already Here~

Sample Post:

N/A.

congratulations, mister scott. after going over your transcript, and deciding how well you'd fit in here at Cry Wolf High, we have decided to accept your request to join us! please go take the time to go to the directory, and the sign ups to complete your enrollment. once done, head over to the office, and complete your schedule here! thank you!

School Enrollment Administration