lindsay nicholas scott

[broo]

-- LINDSAY NICHOLAS SCOTT !

-- NAME: Lindsay Nicholas Scott
-- NICKNAMES: Linds, Scott, Lindsay-Loser-Face
-- AGE & BIRTHDAY: Twenty-Five, April 14th
-- BIRTH PLACE: Capeside
-- ORIENTATION: Straight
-- OCCUPATION: Television and radio personality.
-- PLAYED BY: Joshua Jackson

-- PERSONALITY !

-- GOOD-NATURED: Lindsay could literally coerce a conversation out of a brick wall; he’s just one of those guys that’s so genial warm that you can’t help but get caught up in conversation with him. He’s the guy you want to be best friends with and the funny guy at the party that you want to be around all the time. Lindsay has the ability to offer a person a sense of relatability without the adverse effect of being intrusive. He's of a laid-back sort; easy to be around and a desirable partner in conversation. He's funny, charismatic, and what his grandfather would affectionately call “a good ol' boy.” You know, someone with an agreeable disposition and a knack for having a good time. He's the guy you want to kick back with and have a pint.

-- ENTERTAINER: A good time is not too far around the corner when you're in Lindsay's company. Impulsiveness runs in his veins and if approached with a potentially entertaining/dangerous idea, Lindsay's game. With a fondness for all things mischievous, Lindsay could be considered a bit of a shit stirrer which more often than not gets him into some trouble. He's the kind to play jokes or pranks on people, but it's all in good fun. His intent is never of a malicious sort. He doesn't take himself too seriously; more often than not he'll make fun of himself as a way to defuse a tense situation. He's got this endearing sort of self-deprecating humor thing going for him.

-- GAURDED: While quite genuine and unfailingly honest to point, there’s a lot to Lindsay that’s kept private. He shares what he wants to, and withholds the rest. He’s always willing to let people get to know him, but overstep your bounds just a fraction too far and Lindsay clams up. Rather than letting you pursue a topic that’s too personal for him, he’ll do his damnedest to veer you off course. Lindsay is the master of seamlessly changing subjects; you start prying into his personal life and before you know it, you’re in a heated discussion about the price of Movie Theater tickets. Right now he’s particularly guarded about his reasoning behind returning to Capeside. Obviously his party-hard antics are somewhat public knowledge and it’s no secret that the show he originated is now being captained by a new host, but the finer details about his subsequent breakdown he keeps very under wraps. Lindsay can weather the uncomfortable questions of even the most intrusive busy-bodies, but should anyone goes as far as to personally insult him or rub him in exactly the wrong way, Lindsay can have a vicious tongue. He's not the sort to get himself involved in a physical altercation, but if given the chance, he'd cut you down to size with a well placed insult that'd leave your head reeling. Though generally of an agreeable, lighthearted disposition, Lindsay plays for keeps, and if attacked, will deliver poisonous sarcasm and cruel wit without a second thought.

-- LOVES: His sisters, the smell of wet apples, expensive Italian leather shoes, big watches, leggy blondes, any movie that has to do with dinosaurs, indian summers, heavy based scotch glasses, Jack Daniels, Valium, Vicodin, Ambien, wedding shows on TLC, guacamole, iced tea, people who like his jokes, sunglasses of all obnoxious sizes, swapping stories about scars, short hair on girls, mockumentaries, and jam jars.
-- HATES: Sailing, people who victimize themselves, intrusive gossip seekers, self righteous people, being placated, insincerity, busted up teeth, lampreys, his mother fussing over him, lectures of any kind, watermelon, flavored water, being touched on his neck and stomach, people who don't groom their feet, people who don't laugh at his jokes, people who think they know what's best for him, birds, horses, cockroaches, guys who call him "bro", and condescending people.

-- HISTORY !

Growing up in Capeside was something of test for the larger than life Lindsay Scott. While his parents, Marina and Bruce, thought the quiet appeal of the Cape would be an ideal place to raise their three children, Lindsay often felt confined and stifled within the cramped city limits. Between attending Capeside elementary and getting his sisters Poppy and Jacqueline into heaps of trouble, Lindsay spent a lot of time wishing he were somewhere else. He had dreams of grandeur, romanticized adventure, and success; dreams which his teachers at school told him were unrealistic for someone like him. Lindsay was not the ideal student. His grades were always south of a C and his attention span resembled that of a goldfish’s. It wasn’t that he wasn’t bright—he was more than capable of comprehending the material-- it was just that the school system was not a good match for him. Sitting still for the better part of an 8 hour school day when you’d much rather be off fooling around in the creek was nothing short of a tribulation for Lindsay.

With little motivation other than the sheer desire to leave this town, Lindsay found an outlet through which he could direct his boredom and restless discontent; home videos. At around age 14, Lindsay picked up his father’s video camera and began to produce videos. They weren’t anything special; just silly skits that he and his friends hastily put together on a veeeeeeeeeerry limited budget. This love affair with the camcorder lasted throughout high school and well into his post-secondary education. Though he didn’t keep the best grades, he managed to secure himself a place at Capeside Community College, something his parents arguably wanted more than he did. After a year of school however he decided to drop out (much to his parent’s dismay) and instead took to making more videos and even joined a short lived punk-bluegrass fusion band. When he was 19 Lindsay was introduced to Youtube.com and that’s where things really began for him. After a video of his went viral, his channel became one of the most subscribed in a matter of weeks and he’d secured a solid fan base. Soon after making it big on the internet Lindsay was approached by an MTV executive for a position as a VJ. Willing to take every opportunity thrown his way to get out of the small town, Lindsay accepted and moved to MTV headquarters in New York. After working there for 2 years Lindsay received an offer to join the comedy news show Infomainia on Current TV and gladly took the job. Who would have guessed that a boy with a camera would get so far?

After gaining notoriety, the Network decided to risk giving Lindsay his own show; a kind of hybrid of the TOSH.O show and The Soup. Essentially his job as host was to review all the ridiculousness that had happened in the media and on the internet that week. The show was greeted with rave reviews and after a successful 1st season, Lindsay had signed on for a fallowing season. So with a promising career in TV (not to mention a weekly radio deal he’d secured) it seemed like he was heading straight for the top. However, Lindsay found himself seduced by the more dark areas of the industry. Alcohol and prescription drugs became a vice of his as he tried to navigate through the stress of writing comedic on-point material and hosting what was arguably becoming one of the top ten up and coming programs to lookout for in television. It was inevitable that his rocketing career and his bad habits would send him veering off course; Lindsay had a breakdown of sorts. His producers found out about the drug problem and were left no choice but to let Lindsay go and replace him with a new host.

Lindsay’d lost track of himself. The break-neck pace of his mounting fame had left little time for self-reflection. Battleing a drug addiction and an identity crisis of sorts, Lindsay decided to return to his roots. He felt that going home and getting away from the industry would be the best thing for him at this point. So, after 6 years of being away, Lindsay’s returned to Capeside to recuperate and in a sense “find himself” once again.

-- SAMPLE !

He wasn’t a stalker; he swore. It wasn’t his fault that every time their paths crossed they just happened to have the same destination in mind. And he wasn’t staring he was just… Absently letting his gaze wander past her… Over… And over… God he was pathetic.

“If you like her why don’t you just go over to her and talk to her?” The question sat for a moment in the smoke filled air, marinating a bit in the silence. Asher --caught up in his quiet musings-- failed to notice that this question was directed towards him. He remained quietly entranced, his gaze occupied with the gentle slope of a pair of beautifully tanned shoulders, only to be broken by momentary bouts of embarrassment in which he had to divert his gaze to the frothy head of his beer. “Ash? Helllooo, you’re being spoken to.” Startled a bit by the directness with which he was being spoken to, he roused himself from his silent staring. “Huh? Sorry, what?” he muttered quietly, directing his attention to the face of a middle aged woman amongst the group of Asher’s colleagues that all sat around their secluded table in the corner. “If I’m not mistaken you’ve been looking at this woman since the moment we arrived.” The sage woman said with the gentle feather duster of her dark brow. Asher, ashamed at having been caught leering, quickly began to back track, giving his throat a loud clear as he fidgeted in his chair. “I was not. I don’t even know who you’re talking about,” he said dismissively, hiding himself behind a large swig of beer, all the while his ears burning with red embarrassment. “I don’t stare at people… That’s just… Weird,” he said with an apprehensive laugh, his guilty body language betraying the validity of his statement entirely.

Could you blame him though? I mean really; this woman, this unnamed woman with the long black hair was perhaps one of the most breathtaking creatures he’d ever laid eyes on. He’d never seen anything like her. It was like every time he saw her, his basic motor functions became incapacitated and it was all he could do to keep his jaw from dropping clean to the floor. He’d never seen a girl like her. Well, to be fair he hadn’t really seen that many girls at all, apart from the two that he’d worked with out in the wilderness as a young adult.

“Right… I’m going to call bullshit on that, but I’ll let you pretend like you don’t know what I’m talking about if it’ll make you feel better, kiddo,” the women said sitting back in her chair and turning her attention to the heated discussion being held by the rest of the people at the table, though a knowing smile still lingered on her lips. Asher fidgeted slightly, turning his back away from the nameless girl, which funnily enough, turned out to be a hard thing to do.

He fully realized how big of a coward he was. This wasn’t the first time he’d seen this girl. In fact, they were about as acquainted with each other as people can be without even speaking to one another. Occasionally he’d pass her on the street or in the shops, and at best they’d hold eye contact, or if he was feeling bold he’d send a tentative smile her way. But that was about as far as their interaction extended. Though he was dying to know her, it felt almost safer this way; this strange anonymity that they had with each other gaurenteed him some security. He knew that if he ever dared to speak to her that things would go terribly wrong. He made a habit never to open his mouth around pretty girls, because every time he did destruction and calamity ensued. No, it was much safer this way not to talk to her. He didn’t want her opinion of him to be sullied up by his inarticulate verbal vomit, if indeed she had an opinion of him at all.

His middle aged woman friend was eyeing him again. He could tell even with his eyes firmly planted on his beer. “Come on. Talk to her,” she urged deviously, giving him a little nudge with her elbow. “Stop it,” he hissed, his ears, if possible, turning even redder. “What’s the matter?” Having picked up on this separate conversation between the woman and Asher, one of the guys at the table leaned over to join in. “Oh nothing, Asher just has a crush on this girl at the bar and he’s too much of a chicken shit to talk to her,” the woman stated matter-of-factly so that the whole table group could hear. If there was ever a time where being bludgeoned in the head seemed like a good idea, it was now. “Shut up!” Asher hissed, hunching low in his chair. Cat calls and hollers erupted around the table at this new found information and it was all Asher could do to keep himself from smashing his head against the table. “Talk to her buddy!” “Common, man up!” “Is it that chick at the bar? She’s hot!” “LET’S GET ASHER LAID TONIGHT!” Asher’d had just about enough. The embarrassment he was feeling was excruciating, and in an attempt to stop the rude comments from growing in multitude, he found himself yelling "OKAY!"

Did he really just say that? Did he just agree to talking to her? This was a huge mistake. HUUUUGE. But if he didn’t follow through he would never hear the end of it and god forbid if his colleagues took matters into their own hands and approached her for him. That would have been mortifying. No he was going to have to bite the bullet and make good on his promise. Trembling from head to toe with temperature soaring just shy of 104 degrees, Asher stood up, downed the rest of his drink and proceeded towards his doom, though not without an abrupt slap on the ass by one of his coworkers. "ATTA BOY!"

He tried to plan something clever in his head to say to her but his mind seemed to repeat the words “She’s going to hate you” over and over, like a meditative chant. He was but a foot behind her before he diverted his path away from her to the other end of the bar. Fuck, he couldn’t do this. But all eyes were on him, so once again he approached her, only to backtrack once again. After the 4th attempt he decided to rid himself of inhibitions and sit beside her at the bar. He glanced at her briefly, his heart pounding and his palms sweating. Just as he began to feel the urge to walk away once again, he found himself opening his mouth to speak. “Hi,” he said. Cool. Real suave.

-- OOC !

-- NAME OR ALIAS: Fly
-- AGE: Eighteen
-- THREE WORDS THAT DESCRIBE YOU: Ornery Fire-Crotch
-- HOW YOU FOUND US: Literally stumbled on it =]

[* NIKKI THE PEACOCK QUEEN]

-- ACCEPTED !

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