MILANI, kale apela

[kale apela milani]

NAME: kale apela milani
AGE: twenty.
HEIGHT: five ten.
WEIGHT: one hundred forty pound
EYE COLOR: brown.
HAIR COLOR: brown.
ETHNICITY: pacific islander.
LIKES: surfing, music, the beach, golf, traveling, making friends.
DISLIKES: snobs, fakes, greed, lack of appreciation, early mornings.
SECRETS: he refuses to talk about his dad much because he misses him a lot.
GRADE AND/OR OCCUPATION: college sophomore, musician.
SEXUAL ORIENTATION: straight.
PLAY BY PLAY: maika maile.

PERSONALITY:

Kale is an extremely sweet and sensitive guy, and he loves to live his life to the fullest. He’s been through a lot in his life, which only makes him want to live more. He has a lot of feelings but he won’t hesitate to tell you what’s on his mind. He’s not the type to bottle things up, he just lets whatever he feels flow out whether you want to deal with it or not. He’s sympathetic and extremely patient. Kale isn’t selfish by any means, or superficial.

Even though he’s not into what you wear or anything, he’s very self conscious. He’s always curious as to what other people think of him, and he’s not one to parade his past around. He’s a shoulder to cry on and he’ll point you in the right direction. Kale is they type who’s always going to be there for you, even if he hates you with a burning passion. He’s sweet and careful with his heart and girls, and he’s not a huge flirt. He likes to have fun but he can’t do drugs or drink because his body can’t handle it. He hates when people think he’s a prude because he’s determined to wait for that one special person to give his entire self to. He sees the world through different eyes, the kind that can look at anything and see the wonder in it. He appreciates beauty and honesty.

PLACE OF BIRTH: Honolulu, Hawaii.
DATE OF BIRTH: July 15th, 1989.
FINANCIAL STATUS: wealthy.
FATHER: semisi milani.
MOTHER: malia milani.
SIBLINGS: two younger brothers, mahalu and nohea.


HISTORY:

Kale Milani was born on a hot July morning after some intense trouble on his mother’s part. He had been told it was touch and go there for a little while, but all he knew was that she would make it through. At least, that’s what he thought whenever the story of his birth was brought up. Kale’s mother was actually the luckier of his two parents, you might say, but he didn’t really believe in that kind of stuff. Everything was all part of one bigger plan, and he knew that he’d see his Poppa on the other side. His family always said that he was a born optimist, but he liked to think of it as a life choice. Being happy was always a lot more rewarding than wallowing in your own problems when you could be out doing something.

The now twenty year old was brought into a somewhat wealthy island family that had been living in Hawaii for generations. Through that he inherited his grandfather’s name, his mother’s skin and eyes, and his father’s height and love for the world. When Kale turned five, he had everything a little kid could possibly ask for. A shiny new baby brother, Mahalu, a spot on the community football team, and two parents that were just as loving as ever. His mother, who worked from home and taught dance classes a few times a week, was almost always there, causing a close bond between the two. His father, who was a professional golfer, meant everything to Kale. He was a role model, a friend, and an amazing father.

When Kale was six, though, everything started to run downhill. His usually very energetic father was starting to feel tired a lot more often. His family was concerned but his doctors just thought he was spending too much time on the golf course and not enough relaxing. So it still came as a surprise when his father collapsed one morning. They rushed him to the hospital to find that he’d suffered a massive stroke and was in a coma. After a lot of talking and crying, his mother decided that the best approach would be to just let him go so he wouldn’t suffer anymore. This took a lot out of little Kale, and he lost his spark for a very long time. At least, he lost that optimism until he was about nine.

At that age, Kale discovered musical diversity and picked up his first guitar. Shortly after that, his youngest brother was born, leaving him with more time to himself than ever. What started with underground metal flashed into The Beatles, Johnny Cash, and everything in between. He started a band with a few of his close friends around age thirteen, and when he was eighteen they had a minor record deal. Though he loves music and traveling, home is definitely where the heart is.

ROLEPLAY EXAMPLE:

Christopher Caine was so ridiculously sick of being treated like he was a china doll. All his life he had struggled to give himself some normalcy through anything he could grab at, only to become successful with it once he was already well into his teen years. He couldn’t remember a time when there wasn’t someone breathing down his neck at every second before he came to London. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate it, because he did. It was just that sometimes one needs room to breathe. His parents had given him everything they had, and he realized and acknowledged that with ease. Sometimes he just couldn’t help but wish that they would treat him like they would if he hadn’t had tumors when he was little. Anything to be treated like he was just like everyone else would have been welcomed, now that he thought about it. His condition had been more than stable for almost two years now, and even though he was warned over and over again not to live like he was invincible, the temptation was always dangling. Too bad no one could ever let him reach out and grab it.

Even though he knew he was less than likely to not wake up tomorrow morning, he still tried to live his life to the fullest. He’d gotten tattoos, piercings that were taken out, he’d even gone sky diving and bungee jumping. Both of those last activities had almost given his mother a stroke, but he was convinced that he was perfectly fine. So she eventually got over it. He spent hours perfecting musical techniques that were solid enough to work when he taught someone who thought they were completely tone deaf and musically challenged. The boy from the wrong side of the tracks in Paris had bounced back from his deathbed and proceeded to get up and out, following a brighter light all the way through. His mother once told him that God only gives people who can handle it the traumas in life, and that was when he realized that self pity was going to get him absolutely no where. So he decided that he was going to be strong and fight back, no matter what anyone said to him. The kid knew he was lucky though – they had caught it and removed it without need for a transplant, which is more than a lot of people with his condition can say.

When he was bedridden, his main nurse would roll him down to a piano and just play for him, hours and hours on end when it was a slow day and there were other people to keep an eye on everyone else. Then once Ach got stronger, he could start playing a little bit each day along with the rest of his physical therapy. Once he started getting good at that, they introduced him to guitar. Through that he discovered his voice, and the rest just sort of fell into place. He wanted to leave his mark on the world no matter how he left it, and he knew he wanted to inspire people. So why not do it through the trade that always gave him hope at the end of the day? Along with that, once he was finally out of the hospital and could go to school, all he wanted was to make people happy. Somewhere in that he learned how to be thoughtful and sweet, but those French girls can rip your heart out. At some point within the sea of glossy lips and soft skin he stopped trusting people like that. They always knew he was holding something out – and in that case they were right. The last thing he wanted was to get pity from other people.


Atchley wanted everything they always depicted in story books. That fairytale princess and that happily ever after. As odd as it may have seemed, seeing that he was as straight of a male as you could find, it was what he’d always hoped for when things seemed as desolate as a desert. He knew that with all this bad the good would catch up with him eventually. All he needed was to find the girl he was meant for and make sure that she had everything and more. That was the main thing he wanted for himself, which wasn’t much since he was the picture of unselfish. Atch closed his laptop with a sigh as he sat up, rubbing Briggs’s head as he did. He was oddly excited to step out into the cool air and meet someone new. Well, kind of new, since he had already met her in a chat room. But the thing that inspired him the most to get up and out was that she had been through what he had and more. That feeling of being connected with another person like that was so ridiculously new that he just couldn’t resist. He stood and grabbed a jacket, stuffed his feet into a pair of Vans, and was out the door.

The air moved his rather long hair as he walked, his greenish brown eyes taking everything in. He loved to watch the leaves fall and the dew cling to trees. It just made him feel so relaxed that he considered writing songs about it. In the end he decided not to though, for it was a little too obscure for his tastes. He came up behind a blonde girl who he was almost positive belonged to the sweet, strong girl he’d been talking with. “Chantel?” he asked before he was too close for comfort with a stranger, his light French accent clinging lightly to the two syllables he spoke. Sometimes he hated that his voice had an “alluring drawl”, and this was one of those times. He just wanted to be normal so people could look past his obvious foreign stamp. For some reasons girls thought it was the sexiest thing ever to have a guy with an accent. He thought it was complete shallow bullshit, but maybe that was just him.

NAME: melissa
EXPERIENCE: like... three years? i think.
WHERE DID YOU FIND US? jennerssss.