singslikeagirl | APPLICATION | For mckinleyrewind RPG

» OUT-OF-CHARACTER

Name: Lani
Age: 29
Location: Australia
Your actual journal:

scotlandaussie
E-mail: scotlandaussie @ livejournal dot com
Private Messages: Feel free to PM me via this LJ account

» IN-CHARACTER

Character Name: Kurt Hummel

Looks: Immaculately groomed at all times, save for when he is in the dumpster or in the wake of a slushie facial. He is 5'7½" in height, with brown hair and blue eyes. Highly fashion conscious with a dislike for anything that doesn't meet his standards. He dresses brightly and outlandishly, and no one can accuse him of ever blending into the background, which is a good thing because Kurt would rather poke himself in the eyeball with one of Rachel's novelty pens than be a beige wallflower. Has the superstar smile down, but watch out if you get on the end of his trademark disdainful glare if you annoy him.

Personality: Tempting as it is to simply state 'gay', there is more to Kurt than meets the eye. He has a colourful and bright personality with a sharp tongue for insults when he feels necessary. His yearning to be a star has him constantly aware of his appearance and determination to be noticed. He could be considered highly obnoxious, but he would argue that he was just being honest. Despite all this, Kurt comes with a highly insecure side always bubbling below the surface. He knows he is different and he knows very few actually understand him. He uses his loud personality to cover up the fact that deep down, he really just wanted to be accepted like everyone else, but he believes in not changing who he is for the benefit of anyone else.

Family/Relationships: Burt Hummel (beloved dad)

Affiliation(s): New Directions, Cheerios, Britney Spears Fan Club

» WRITING SAMPLE #1 (FIRST PERSON)
I have decided I am not above military-style sabotage on one Rachel Berry. I know for a fact I am not the only person this side of the equator who is getting increasingly more frustrated as the weeks progress of her completely and utterly irritating consistency of assuming she should be Solo Queen of the Universe. There should only be one Queen in Glee Club, and that's me, of course. Do I want a crown? Yes, I do, and I would look way better in one than Rachel would. Just like I look way better in plaid than she does. And stripes, for that matter. Oh hell, I would look better in a burlap sack than Rachel would. She has a voice. Yes, we got that memo. But seriously, people, you have heard her voice when she's not singing. Some days I go home with a toothache and a distinct sense that one eardrum has has a minor stroke. What is Finn thinking in dating her? If he hits his twenties without grey hair growing in unusual places and an odd twitch in his eyeball, it will be a sheer miracle.

So, people? Military sabotage? Are we all on board? I would suggest paintball as a starting point, but this is silk YSL. I could always be a not-so-independent mediator. I'd happily stand on the sidelines and encourage you all shower her with colourful balls of paint with intense repetition. Evidently bitching Mr Schu out is going to get us nowhere for him to see sense. It's time to take matters into our own hands. Carpe Diem and all that. If it worked for Robin Williams... even if he does have an inhuman amount of body hair. Really, Mr Williams, organic wax is your friend.

» WRITING SAMPLE #2 (THIRD PERSON)
Somewhere around the age of nine, Kurt discovered that his Dad's workshop had really awesome acoustics. Way better than the bathroom at home, even. Only, the first time he tried to belt out Aretha to the radio whilst tapdancing on top of the dinner table, Burt Hummel nearly had a heart attack and quickly set Kurt on donut duty so he wouldn't have to think too much on the scene he had just witnessed. Now, he liked Motown in small doses, but couldn't the kid start out with a bit of Marvyn Gaye or Stevie Wonder? Still, who could argue with acoustics? At least, that's what Kurt's argument was, and Burt just agreed in bewilderment and went back to warped wheel rim he had been working on.

Now, nearly eight years later, Kurt was cranking up the radio as loud as he could without landing the police on the doorstep for disturbing the peace. I Will Survive, by the fabulous Ms Gloria Gaynor. No way could Kurt just stand at the bench and pretend washing tools was his priority when one of his all time favourite songs was starting to filter through the radio. His Dad was on a lunch break, picking up lunch, and being a Saturday, there were no other workers around. With a covert glance around, the volume was flicked up and Kurt was singing his heart out into a wrench, indulging in how awesome the high notes sounded as they bounced off the cement walls of the workshop. He was just reaching the bridge, imagining himself dressed in sequinned spandex up on a stage in front of a million people when...

"Kurt?"

Kurt stopped abruptly and immediately dropped the wrench on his foot with a squeak of surprise. "Dad-- ow!" Wide-eyed, he stooped to pick up the wrench, fighting the temptation to start hopping around inelegantly to rub his throbbing toe. "I was just... the grease was a little tough to get off," he explained hastily, holding the tool up in his latex-gloved hand.

Burt scratched at his chin with a nod of understanding. "It does that." He gestured with his hand for a moment. "Love the electrics, son," he added after a moment, talking over the loudness of the music, and then disappeared again into the workshop's kitchenette with the lunch bags.

A smile played on Kurt's lips as he hugged the wrench to his chest. "Acoustics, Dad," he replied in amusement and then went back to the sink... even if the volume on the radio remained up.

» MIX TAPE SONG ALA KURT
"Proud" by Matthew James Thomas
All of my life I have watched you climbing mountains, chasing dreams
All of my life you gave me everything, but you don’t have to give the world to me
Just say you love me as I am, say you want me as I am
Say I’m someone in your eyes it’s all I wanted to be
Oh just let me go I know, one day, if I’m allowed, if I’m allowed one day I’ll make you proud