Paul Cory Lahote

[hote]

you're my brand of heroin ,
Paul Cory Lahote


"You truly are one frightening little monster."
~Jasper Hale~

character full name: Paul Cory Lahote
alias: Paul
age: eighteen
birthday: March 18th,1990
affiliation: Werewolf Alpha Third, Sam's Pack
status: Quilete Shifter

"I'd noticed that his eyes were black - coal black."
~Isabella Swan~

eyes: Brown round eyes
hair: short black hair
height: 6'0
weight: 165
distinguishing features: a tribal Tattoo
general appearance:
doesn’t usually even try to wear a shirt. Is always in tattered pants. Usually without shoes. If he is fully dressed, he wears simple T-shirts and sneakers in addition to his “wolf” pants.

"I will always tell you the truth."
~Alice Cullen~

likes:
-being a wolf,
-cliff diving
-killing vampires
-feeling like a hero
-Emily (whom he refers to teasingly as Momma Wolf) because she takes care of all of them
- belonging to something (even if he does deny this with every fiber of his being)
-his friendship with Jared (this is the only person who hasn’t walked away despite Paul’s bad attitude)
- his mom

dislikes:
-feeling tied down to something
-not being able to receive the praise he believes they are all due because their wolf status and the existence of vampires must be kept secret
-other people telling him what to do
-vampires
-that leech lover Bella
-Jacob Black
-people not taking him seriously
- his insecurities that he’ll never be good enough for anything that matters
-guilt (he often tries to either ignore it, or somehow make it someone else’s fault)
- hurting the people he loves (namely his mom, Jared, Emily, and Rachel)
ambitions: He wants to Marry Rachel someday
abilities:
* Telepathy with his pack
* Delayed aging
* Advanced healing, senses, endurance, durability & strength
secrets:
-that he feels that he’s not good enough for the things he has
-that he loves Rachel more than he lets on (it seems like maybe he’s just interested in her Doritos and her bedroom skills)
- that most of his anger comes from his past with his father
personality: Paul is very boisterous. Almost any thought that comes into his head is spoken without much thought of anyone’s feelings or any consequences. All of his actions are done in this manner without any forethought. He also likes to keep people at arms length because he’s afraid of forming too many permanent attachments, to this effect he can be quite gruff.
He hates it when people don’t listen to him, or contradict him, or when anyone goes against Sam’s orders. That’s why he phased on Bella the day that he realized she knew about them. Because Sam had specifically told Jacob he couldn’t tell her. Alpha command and everything. Paul doesn’t take anything seriously except for being a wolf and protecting the people. But more because he likes the being a wolf and killing vampires part then because of the sacred duty protecting the people part.
Paul pretty much allows his emotions to rule him. And lead emotion is usually anger. So it doesn’t take much to provoke him. And he doesn’t know when enough is enough. He has no idea when to back down in a fight. He has destroyed more than one relationship that way.
However Paul does have a big heart for those who find their way into it. And Rachel is the best proof of this. He’s different around her. He’s softer, gentler, kinder. He would also literally do anything in the world for her, so long as his pride would allow him. She sees the best of him. And she makes him the best for other people. His love for Rachel is literally his saving grace.

"Don't get your family slaughtered for pride."
~Carlisle Cullen~

mother: Leigh-Anne Lahote 45,
father: Bryan William Lahote,45
siblings: None
others: Rachel Black,23, imprint
history: Paul’s parents dated in high school. It was more of a forbidden romance than a true love kind of deal. She was a cheerleader at Forks high and he was a rough and tumble boy from the reservation. She loved it because her parents hated it. And she got a thrill from sneaking around with him. But before her life really got started, she found out she was pregnant. This enraged Paul’s father, thinking she had done it to trap him into marrying her, but when she rejected his proposal he became confused. Leigh-Anne explained that she didn’t want to marry him anyway, and she wanted to marry him even less simply because a baby was on the way. But Bryan took this as an excuse to get out of any responsibility all together. He started spreading rumors about Leigh-Anne, said the baby wasn’t his. His way of handling the rejection. But for some reason Bryan’s parents believed it was, and so when her parents threw her out for being pregnant, they bought the girl a small place on the reservation. Somewhere safe to raise her child. And they also helped her every step of the way. However as soon as she moved onto the reservation, Bryan moved out.

Paul was still raised in a very loving environment by his mother and two grandparents and occasionally other people from the reservation helped out. And the two were welcomed into the community as their own despite his mother being a “pale face.” Paul has never forgiven his father for the abandonment, though he only claims the anger is for his mother’s abandonment, you can tell that his leaves a bitter taste in his mouth too. He hopes to one day achieve something good enough that his mother can stop working so hard at such a crap job. He feels very indebted to her, and how she made this all work out for the best despite all odds. His whole life he’s hated disappointing her because she works so hard to take care of him and for everything they have.
But starting in middle school he began to disappoint her often. First because he got into fist fights over teases and taunts about him being a half breed and his mother not being a Quileute.

Then further disappointed her when he began to get into fist fights just because it felt good to hit things. The only friend he’s managed to keep in all of these years is Jared. And he’s grateful for that. He would be lonely without him, though he would never admit it. Paul is not in control of his anger, or his rage, and therefore he can be very volatile.
When he became a wolf, Paul was excited. Excited because it proved he truly belonged, though he keeps that thought extremely buried. And because he finally had an outlet for his aggression that didn’t disappoint his mother too much. Although she’s beginning to get upset about the sneaking out and hours he can’t account for while he’s doing his duty.

"You will never put me through that again."
~Esme Cullen~

player: Lance
age: 35
member title: Third Alpha Male
password: pure
anything else: anything that we should know?
rp sample:

I feel the grip on me. Tight around my middle restraining me holding me back. In the back of my mind, I know it's the kind woman dressed all in white. But that's not who or what it is in my head. In my head I am completely gone from the hospital. I am in a cave in the woods, surrounded by creatues I have no hope of fighting. I scratch out at her and the grip loosens. For a moment I feel and smell and breath freedom. For a moment i toy with the idea of running. Even though I know that the red eyes can move so quickly that their movements can't be seen. Silent in the dark. But then, all too quickly the freedom is taken from me again and I am held prisoner in other arms. Other arms trying to restrain me. I know I can't fight, but a part of me wonders if this time I couldn't die too. Go down with them. My parents. And so I struggle to get free, to participate in a fight that I know I can only lose.

Until I feel it. The warmth. It seeps into my skin through my clothes. It soothes me, in a way that I didn't even know my soul could be soothed anymore. It provides me peace. This warmth is free of red eyes in the dark. There's no way that that creature could feel this pleasant. I didn't even know it had happened, but my body had stilled. And the world around me ahd grown silent. No more screams. Not even mine.

the warmth's hands and words are just as soothing. They cut through everything, leaving me feeling completely at peace. I cling to the warmth desperately. It asks me to look at it. But I don't want to see. I don't want to look up and see anything else that could blur the lines. I don't want to find out that this is fantasy. I don't want to break the illusion of something that brigns me so much comfort. I especially don't want to look up and find more deciet. the warmth could be deciet. "No," I whisper shaking my head,"Don't want to." I burrow my head into the warmth. "Don't want to." I wanted to keep this fantasy.

The warmth's next words shoot me straight back to the hospital. I know where i am. Or at least where I think I am. he industrial cleaner stings my nose. I can't see anything aorund me. But I still know the walls are the all the same, and there will be dead art on the walls. It's strange the things I know here. I know that. But I don't know if the warmth I'm enveloped in is real. Even though I feel it, and smell it. The warmth smells like honey and cinnamon.

And for a moment I'm soothed again as I remember Sunday mornings, making cinnamon buns with my parents. but even that, I don't know if it really happened. Or if the edges are blurring again mixing hopes and dreams with reality. But this memory I want to be real. It's happy. I don't remember much that I know of for sure that's happy.

The warmth wants to know who is screaming. And that jars me out of the dream, or memory. Reality or fantasy. I don't know which I'm jarred from, or which I'm pulled into. But I do know the answer to that question even if I don't want to think of it. I know who is screaming. "No," I say shaking my head, trying to chase it away, trying to hold on to sundays. Screaming in the woods. "No," I repeat again, shaking my head, trying to hold onto sun streaming through the windows. In a cave in the woods. "No," I repeat, shaking my head, trying to hold onto laughter. Blood all over the walls. "No," I shreik, shaking my head again, as I clung desperately to the smell of honey and cinnamon.

Too late already there. Screaming in the woods. Screaming and blood. And tortured twisted expressions on faces that will move no more. Face no longer attached to bodies. Just faces. Scared, hurt faces. Twisted faces. Eyes wide. Mouths open lke a silent scream. "No," I shrieked again. "No," I say desperately. "Faces need their bodies. They need their bodies." I begin to rock a little. "Mom can't scream anymore," I whisper finally, “Dad can't see."

"If we had happy endings, we'd all be under gravestones now."
~Rosalie Hale~

made by: Rae {cupcake/vanilla_pop} of RPG-D && Caution 2.0
disclaimer: quotes are from the characters in the Twilight series
copyright: steal and I'll send the Volturi after you. YEAH.

[RYAN]

accepted