TYLER, Spencer Edward

[Spencer Edward Tyler]

SPENCER EDWARDTYLER.

---

you are the one,
you'll never be alone again

Hi! I'm Burty, you say it like Bertie, but it's spelt Burty (: . I'm from In-Ga-Land, so I'm in greenwich mean time, I think |: I'm thick don't judge me.. Aside from Spencer, I play no one else cause I'm too cool.. If you want to chat to me, msn is sexy or you can pm me (: burtynaowz@hotmail.com

your cover melting inside,
with wide eyes you tremble

NAME: Spencer Edward Tyler. Spence or Spencey or Penny for short. But sometimes he'll fool people he doesn't like (...well, he's allowed to judge people on a first impression, isn't he?) with a fake name...or sometimes, he just does it for the hell of it, doesn't matter whether he hates you or fucking loves you; he'll just tell you he's got a different name to what it really is. But normally, people guess when he's lying.
AGE: Eighteen, a few months off Nineteen.
SEXUALITY: We're pretty sure he's straight but no one really knows.
BIRTHPLACE: A general hospital somewhere down in Alabama.

your skin and bones,
turn into something beautiful

FACE CLAIM: Bob Dylan, 65-66 era.
DEFINING FEATURES: Out-of-place converse. Hooked nose. Wild hair.
EYES: Wow. Would you look at that? He's got some of the most fabulous eyes you've ever seen! They're slightly narrow, smaller than an average person's eyes, but just looking at the colour reminds you of the childhood days when you'd run in the garden and steal robin eggs out of a nest. They share the same colour as robin eggs, a pale pastel blue flecked with spots of darker azure, making the appearance of them speckled. But his left eye, though generally the same as the right from first glance, is slightly different; instead of a darker hue of blue flecked across his iris, he has pale green in small tiny triangles. It looks like the ocean's calm...Before the storm, at least.
HAIR: To put it bluntly, if you tried to comb Spencer's hair...You'd lose your comb, or break it at least. His wild, untameable locks are always fun to curl around your finger and then BOING back into place and he rarely gets grouchy when you do so, unless you're a face he doesn't agree with. In a shade of mottled brown, the colour's not extraordinary; he's never been one for dyeing or altering his hair much, he only has it cut until it becomes so tangled it's becoming a nuisance, so it's no wonder it's the same boring colour it's always been. Still, the style's something different; you have to give him that...and it isn't half fun to play with; just don't straighten it, and he certainly won't mind you flicking his curls around.
FASHION: Never one to accept the norm, Spencer wears the strangest of clothes. They're not even high-fashion, well, as in, you certainly won't see them in any men's magazine any-time soon. No, he wears odd appearing-moth-eaten blazers or strange dark hued cardigans with crumpled shirts of varying colours and materials, along with either dark black jeans or suit trousers held up by thick black bracers, and to finish off this freak show of taste he has, a pair of oddly-informal converse, a different colour to each day. Monday, red. Tuesday, green. Wednesday, blue. Thursday, yellow. Friday, pink. Saturday, orange. Sunday, white. Each day had a certain colour. Looking at his style, you'd think he got those blazers, shirts and suit-trousers from a market down in Greenwich Village or some place like that; what you don't know is that they're from the one and only Saville Row, a street in London town that's simply row upon row upon row of tailors. He may look like an oddity in his dress sense, but Spencer's not a fool; he certainly knows how to be odd with money. Oh, and did I mention, if he's feeling particularly unusual; you can see him in a top-hat not too unlike the Mad Hatter's, it even has the 10/6 sign on the side of it...Always tilted slightly to the side, of course.
HEIGHT: 5'9, a teensy tiny bit too short.
WEIGHT: 160 lbs.
ETHNICITY: Caucasian, apparently his real Dad was Jewish as well.

look at the stars,
look how they shine for you

LIKES:
[+]60's/70's and Indian paraphenalia.
[+]The look on people's faces when he tells them he wears the Mad Hatter's top hat and has colours of shoes for each different day.
[+]Watching people waiting for buses.
[+]Pink Lady Apples.
[+]Coca Cola in classic glass bottles.
[+]Batman. Comics mainly, but he loves the films as well, and he gets a laugh out of Adam West and whatnot. But not Joel Schumacher's interpretations, okay? That's a step too far.
[+]Photography.
[+]Comic Books. He likes Alan Moore best.
[+]Picture Books.
[+]The Beatles (His favourite Beatle is George Harrison) & David Bowie.
[+]Drawing. Generally he sketches in comic book style, that's his speciality.
[+]Sitars.
[+]India.
[+]Rudyard Kipling.
[+]John Keats.
DISLIKES:
[-]No talent singers.
[-]The 80's.
[-]Oranges. They just look evil. Oranges are only nice in juice.
[-]Joel Schumacher.
[-]The colour purple. Not the book or the film, the actual colour.
[-]People with big dogs.
[-]Sports, other than running; but that's not really a sport.
[-]People who can't hold their drink but call themselves "party animals."
[-]The term Rock Star and the word Kooky. Eugh.
[-]People who don't appreciate comic books.
[-]Unsettling situations.
HABITS:
[#]Curling his hair around his index finger when he's nervous/embarassed/scared.
[#]Biting his nails in situations that he's near even when they don't involve him.
[#]Biting his lip when he's thinking.
[#]Cracking his knuckles, wherever, whenever.
[#]Smoking, and no, he can't quit whenever he wants. Even he realizes this.
FEARS:
[#]Dogs.
[#]Spiders.
[#]Fighting. He can't really throw the best punches.
[#]People trying to brush his hair.
BASIC:
Picture this.
There’s a little white kid, probably about seven, and he’s running with a load of Indian kids in a big long-grass field beside a river; where beautiful, striking women in colourful saris are washing their clothes. Now fast forward a little bit, just a few years, and replace the beautiful plains of India with the concrete jungle of New York, the river’s transformed into a road clogged with traffic and the women in saris to strong tall businesswomen, in skirts that barely cover their thighs. Well, it won’t take long to explain that it would mean that the said Caucasian kid would be a bit of a loose canon. After all, when you’ve gone from being educated for three hours a day by your parents and spending the rest of the day running around and jumping in rivers, to a big building filled with other people just like how your parents think you are, getting an education for over six hours by people you don’t know personally…Well, do you blame him?
In other words, he’s disruptive, wild and a little unhinged. In fact, there isn’t one hand-on-paper-now-write-some-words lesson he hasn’t only barely passed (and only with cheating, of course), no; his love lies with art, music and drama. Always understanding what a giant slathering of colour on canvas means and having the ability to draw with unexpected talent, he passed art in high school with flying colours…No pun intended. The same could be said for drama and music. Now he’s in college. Once again pushed into a large building, with people your parents think are like you. So of course, he’s a bit like a tiger in a zoo; wild, disruptive and on-edge. Culture clashes are not fun for the poor boy. Spencer’s never been one to get angry, but boy, when he does, he really does. Queue smashed glass, shouted swears, kicking of furniture…Temperamental or what? However, he doesn’t punch or kick or beat up and what not, mainly because he, well, can’t.
On a regular day, you can find him sitting in weird positions with a sketch book, comic book or pop-up picture book at hand…Perhaps, if he’s feeling intellectual, a leather bound copy of John Keats’ work. He prefers lingering in areas with at least a little bit of green or blue (that’s leaves and water/sky, though I’m sure you knew that) but he’ll take anything, and has been known to be lying on the pavement in the way of many a job-goer’s way, reading one of the above on the list. He’s not yet been known to be cruel to anyone, unless they’ve offended him first, but even then it’s not really cruelty…More a twisted, clownish way, as though he’s just playing a game with you and it doesn’t really matter to him. Which it doesn’t. Life’s too short to take little kafuffles seriously.
Now what is that word that would describe him in general?
Oh yeah; Eccentric. Ecstatic. Excited. Euphoric.
Many other words beginning with E’s, probably. Let’s see if we can find some that don’t begin with that letter.
Laid-back, odd, weird, joyous, chilled…There we go, there are some more.

who was mine in '99,
i want last names and current status

PARENTS: Julianne Francesca Gregory - Maternal Mother, 34.
Jacob Oscar Bos - Paternal Father, 34.
Geniveve Jeannie Tyler - Adoptive Mother, 56.
Peter Nicolas Tyler - Adoptive Father, 57.

Spencer. The outcome of far too many shots of vodka and a free couch at a friend's party. It was clear that Julianne and Jacob, however nice they were, were certainly not going to raise a child at the tender age of 16. So (Julianne being of the pro-life brigade and not too found of abortion) they found him the nicest family there ever could be. Peter Nicolas Tyler and Geniveve Tyler, both running a strict and successful law-firm, a couple who couldn't have children themselves and were some of the most beautiful people you could meet in the world. They just seemed...Perfect. Perfect people shouldn't reproduce, with good reason; what would we do if we had perfect people running amok? There would be chaos! But that doesn't mean that they can't raise children.
So Spencer was adopted, a nice secure adoption; updates were sent to Julianne and Jacob (they had at first thought it was a good idea), but they had made sure that any emails that came from their email address were blocked. It hurt too much, y'know? So, eventually, after five years of no responses from Spencer's paternal parents; they just gave up sending the emails.
He was never kept in the dark about being adopted, after all, when you're a small boy with a wild head of dark brown hair, a hooked nose, bright blue eyes and your parents both have blonde hair, thin delicate noses and bottle green eyes...You sort of figure it out by yourself. But he's never let it bother him...But mind you, his parents managed to bring him up in India for twelve years of his life, so of course, with such an exotic culture; things like that were simply trivial in comparison. It was only when he turned twelve that he and his family returned to America, mainly because the man his parents had put in charge of running their law firm whilst they travelled India decided to go off and have a heart attack, leaving the firm with no form of leadership. Also, they were growing tired of educating their son; it was time to shove him into a school. From then on, there would be only occasional trips to India in the summer. God he missed that place. Still, he always intrigued other people when they found out he was raised in that big old country.
"REALLY?!" they say.
"Yeah." He says back.
He's now majoring in Art at college, and is finding the whole affair quite...Interesting. At least it's Summer now. Thank bloody god.

[Roxana Jade Merryweather]

welcome to
oh! you pretty THINGS,
don't you know you're driving your mothers and fathers insane?

your application has been ACCEPTED.

welcome to the site (: feel free to start role-playing...just make sure to post in the face claim.

Thanks!