COOPER, drake jacob

[drake]

DRAKE JACOB COOPER


"Howdy y'all! My name's Drake Jacob Cooper, but I really only ever respond to Drake, none of that 'Mr. Cooper' stuff. That's my father. I'm seventeen, born April 16th, 1992 in the town of Midland, Texas. I live for life. I'm straight as a bullet and although I have yet to find the right girl for me, I know she's out there... somewhere... waiting. I consider myself to be a pretty laid-back person who listens more often than speaking. I enjoy the company of good friends and simplicity. I'm a typical country boy when it comes to tastes. My passions empower me. My life is my music first and foremost. When I'm not in the paradise that is a melody, I love working hard on my family's ranch back home. A horse is preferred over a car any day, unless that car is a truck or an atv. Then I go mudding with my buddies. Baseball is my sport of choice - too many injuries have knocked me away from football. I have a pretty high tolerance for aggravation, but when I blow... well, let's just say you don't want to be anywhere nearby. I have a horrible history with my relationships. Why can't people be honest anymore? I don't think my standards are really too high. So many things I have encountered disturb me. I don't understand why such violence and prejudice exists. I can't fathom the big city. How can all of these people race by each other, not give a hand to the sadness that surrounds them? Oh yes, sadness I know very well. And insanity. Ever since... well, I'll get to that when I get to that. So now I guess you're wondering how I got here. Well, that's quite the story within itself. You see, my father is a writer. He writes all kinds of stories. Mystery thrillers, romantic twists, all that kind of stuff. They are all bestsellers, but my dad refuses to flaunt his fortune. He prefers being on the ranch with his family. My mom's a stay-at-home miracle worker as well as the best cook and baker you'll ever have the privilege of meeting. I have had two sisters. My twin, Ellie [Elizabeth, actually, but she says it's too long and detests the concept of being nicknamed "Lizzie"], has the voice of an angel and some divine connection with the piano. She's cool and all, but more stubborn than a bull. Then, well, then there was Ariel. She was amazing. Her voice was beyond heavenly. She was my inspiration, my guide, my best friend. Ariel died. We don't know how, except that she was murdered six months ago. She was 21. The ghosts of her memory - they haunt my family. When we were cleaning out her room, that's when we discovered the band camp. She had a flyer on the floor, waiting for the right time to ask my parents if the three of us could go there. My parents felt the need for Ellie and I to leave the ranch, leave our home, to go to Edgeville, Nevada. They said we should face the grief away from her memories. Nobody here knows about Ariel. After coming here, well, Ellie adjusted. Me, I still don't know what to think. I still see Ariel. Smiling like she always would. In the corner of my eye..... Where was I? Oh yeah, my music. I sing and play the guitar and piano. I always have. Ever since I was old enough to hold a guitar. I write too, but that's sorta slowed down ever since Ariel's... since the incident. Everyone says I'm brilliant in all, but I don't believe them. How can they judge an extension of my soul? It's not just my passion, it's my life. It's always been my life. That's just what my family does - go to church, sing, play guitar and piano, ride. Even now. That's who I am."


hello, i'm Ame, and i'm eighteen years old.
i've been roleplay for three years. i'm using Luke Bryan.
he would be filed under a third troop.
i found JBC through WoD.

(from another site)"Your worth has subsided. You are needed no longer." The words of her master faded with the trickle of light that had penetrated the darkness. His aged face disappeared into the encroaching shadows. She was alone.

She screamed "You will regret this decision, father! My death shall never be as imminent your own, for it shall be by my hand!” As her words echoed throughout the chamber, the last shaft of light left. A deafening cry of maniacal laughter pierced the blackness. A jolt to her stomach caused her to bend in half from pain. The laughter got louder; it became deafening.

Her father’s voice shouted above the laughter, “You are nothing, Leandra! You shall never defeat me! Once I have taken the king’s life, you will be the first to die!”

She cried out, falling to her knees, “I will destroy you father!” The laughter grew, then unexpectedly subsided to a faint and modest twittering that seemed to surround her. It came from outside of her. The dream broke off all together as a jay sang its praises of the morning’s joy. Leandra, laid on her side beneath the bed sheets, moaned at the prospects of the day. Gingerly she fingered the hilts beneath her pillow. Ebony? Far too conspicuous. Cherry wood? Too well made. Her fingertips ran over a simple maple wood. That would do just fine. She drew the dagger from its pillowed sheath. The jay still sang outside her window. She slid off the bed and delicately strode over to the window. The jay flew about in a spontaneous dance of the wind. Leandra opened the window. Then, the bird fell. Down and down, to the stone courtyard below, anchored by dead weight and the maple wood dagger protruding from his chest. Leandra smiled and closed the window as she heard a knock on the door to her chambers.