OOC Information:
name: Pix
age: old enough
rp experience: way too much
screen name: noteverypain
time zone: central

IC Information:
character's given name: unknown, he thinks it started with a C
character's alias: Dirt
character's pb: Dmitri Martynov
journal link: http://dd-dirt.insanejournal.com/
age:14
date of birth:
martial status:single
sexual orientation: inordinately fond of the ladies
political affiliation: none officially, but will lean toward The Dead
social order: Hearts
brief character history:Short and dull. Dirt, as he's known now, was born to a mother too poor and too downtrodden to do much raising. He had his older sister, he had the desperate but tight-knit community they grew up in, and most of all he had the vast labyrinthine tunnels beneath the city. He spent his days exploring them, and over time came to know every passage, every secret underground route. He discovered while working as a guide for his sister and her fellow drug-runners that his knowledge of the secret world below the city was worth something: coin. Ever since then he's been taking whatever he can get for hiding, guiding, and otherwise being a help for anyone desperate enough to brave the world beneath the streets.
personality: Those who see children as Innoccent dreams or angelic creatures would likely get a stark wake-up, meeting the lad known only as 'Dirt'. He curses, smokes, drinks when he can get it, and - so it's said - would turn his own granny over to The Clubs if it would earn him a bit of coin. He's known for being a greedy, rude little bastard, and he has nothing to say against those rumours. Life is what it is, and he never found time to care. In fact,that's his standard response to both accusations and appeals to his charity or mercy: "I don't care."
However cold he may be to emotion, however, the boy does have weakness. Gin is one, the attention of pretty girls is another. And of course, there's the shiny jingle of your pocket, if you please, sir.
At his core, this boy is just a small, frustrated ball of want. He desires with an intensity most can't ever achieve, much less sustain, and his lack of chance and ability to achieve anything only makes him want with more passion. He wants food. He wants a home. He wants to take the Candidate down in a fire of smoke and brilliant flame. He's a wild-eyed boy. He's got a fire inside. He wants money, wants women, wants cigarettes, and he wants them all so much, and he wants them now

Samples:
RP sample: Damn rain. Damn cold. And damn fog. And damn him, for not thinking to dress more warmly. Cold was a curse, a damned curse upon the world and more specifically the Poor, and as Dirt shuffled along below the street, knee-deep in stinking water, he cursed everything and anything his mind could catch at. His fingers were numb and his toes and ears were going the same way, and only a muffler made lovingly by China Girl was protecting his nose and mouth from the cold and the stink and the pure misery of winter in London. And speaking of China Girl..... the boy made a sharp left at the place where two sewer tunnels intersected, and after a short time came to a place he knew well. He wasn't big, wasn't that strong, but a few good kicks against the side of the tunnel revealed a tiny passage through the bricks. Crawling through the filth and the rubble, the boy eventually came to a makeshift ladder, and climbed it, coming out in the dim light of twilight under a broken streetlamp. He shivered. Better to be down in the tunnels, at least there was no wind. No wind, no Clubs, no rain in the hidden labyrinth beneath the city. Still, life went on up top, and he was part of it. The boy moved quickly through the alleyways, in the end raising one filthy little fist to bang on his sister's door.
"If yeh love God, let a man in!"
Journal sample: (character is illiterate)