Post by Tristan Derek Halbert on May 4, 2013 11:18:46 GMT -5
TRISTAN DEREK HALBERT
FULL NAME: Tristan Derek Halbert
NICKNAMES: Tris, Trist.
AGE: twenty-five
SEXUALITY: straight
STATUS: single
GROUP: student
GRADE: sophomore
MAJOR: journalism & photography double.
JOB OCCUPATION: He often runs errands in the NY office for his dad and works with acts in the city.
HAIR: Brown and kind of on the longer side. It’s usually only when he’s getting dragged to some event or fancy show that he gets it tidied up. He liked to be able to run his fingers through it though, and what he classes as short is actually still quite shaggy.
EYES: It seems to vary and he’s never known if his eyes are green or brown, so he calls them a “quirky hazel” since some days they’ll look closer to one shade than the other.
SCARS/BIRTHMARKS: There’s one running down the bottom of his spine that’s about six inches long and pretty visible when he’s shirtless. There’s another over his left hip, too, though it’s only about two inches long. They’re his main ones, but he’s got a few more faint ones from the years and his accident.
TATTOOS: None.
PIERCINGS: None.
PLAY-BY: Jared Padalecki!
LIKES: listening to music, cooking, living in the city, doing things for himself, literature, oranges, speaking Spanish, smoothies, pancakes, espressos, swimming, lazy Sundays, New York City, live music, travelling, toffee ice cream, breadsticks, reading fact based articles, beanie hats, vests, photography, baseball, basketball, journals, writing, restaurants, big dogs, being outside to catch the sunrise, going shopping, “Brat Pack” movies, white wine, hearing new bands for the first time, playing the piano, yoga, hot showers, scenic views.
DISLIKES: hospitals, back pain, leg spasms/limps, heights, construction sites, walking slowly, running out of camera film, negativity, talking about his accident, watermelon, violence, rowdy crowds, people thinking that he’s lazy, action movies, spending all day in bed, burnt food, microwave dinners, soap operas, girls who overdo the tanning, dishonesty, bullies, fake people, being used for his position, running, missing his old sports, cats, tiny “purse” dogs, cheap fast food, beer, getting excessively drunk, falling out with friends, snapping at others.
FEARS: heights, music becoming a chore, never finding his own dreams.
SECRETS: He doesn’t tend to tell people who his father is or where he came from. He’s had people in the past try to use him for the connections and he’s sick of it. He also doesn’t want people to assume they know him just because of it. He also doesn’t talk about the accident much either, but he has to explain it in vague fits and starts from time to time, but he tries to avoid it altogether.
PERSONALITY: Tristan is a quiet sort of guy, but he’s friendly once you get to know him; he’s just not the guy to strike up a conversation with a stranger on the street! He’s a sweet and loyal guy who will always offer a friend a shoulder to cry on and some help if they need it. He can come off as distrusting in some situations, but it’s a coping mechanism more than anything else. He’s been used by people before – people he trusted – and it hurt to find out that they didn’t really care about him but more about what he could offer them. If there is a misunderstanding and it’s his fault, he will apologise and usually pretty quickly, too. He’s a peaceful guy, but like most of the people in New York he has demons of his own to fight. Those demons mean he can seem secretive which he won’t deny being about certain parts of his life. It’s all the things from his past and while they did make him who he is today he doesn’t believe on dwelling in it and quite a lot of it hurts to talk about. He can try to be overly independent at times, because he’s had a taste of what relying on someone for everything is like and it’s not something he ever wants for himself, so even a kind gesture from someone might make him a little bit jumpy. He’s not perfect and he has a small temper that flares whenever he’s feeling cornered and needs to defend himself. Tristan has never been a man for physical violence, but he will shout and scream to get away if he must. He doesn’t mean to get snappy when it happens, but those skeletons in his closet are hard for him to face sometimes, especially all at once. He’s driven but is still trying to decide what to do with his life. Ever since he came to NYC he’s developed a laidback attitude and making those five year plans doesn’t seem to work. He’s a bit of a dreamer and wants to try everything before he chooses his path in life. Romance can be a little tricky. He has the biggest heart but sometimes struggles to let a girl get too close; he needs someone who can push, but not enough to make him feel pressured into talking. He’s quite musical – can’t sing a note to save himself, but he can play piano in his sleep and he was raised with music everywhere, so he feels a really strong connection to music, lyrics and bands. He’ll spend so much time at acoustic sets, open mic nights and other musical events across the city; they keep him calm and balanced, especially after a stressful day has flared up his injuries or left him feeling a little emotional. Despite the secrets he keeps about his own past, he can’t hide his feelings even when he tries; the boy wears his heart on his sleeve most of the time and sometimes, that can be dangerous.!
MOTHER: Christine Madeline Halbert, 57.
FATHER: Lucas Samuel Halbert, 59.
SIBLINGS: None.
OTHERS: None.
PETS: Rufus, Mastiff cross & Tanner, German Shepherd mix!
HOMETOWN: Austin, Texas.
HISTORY: Lucas and Christine waited to start a family, despite meeting when they were in their early twenties. Skipping out on the typical college education, Lucas had fallen into the music industry, spending a few years with a company before leaving at age twenty-three and starting his own up with a buddy a few years older than him and with a little more experience. Christine worked with them to help with the marketing and publicity in the beginning. A few local Austin bands, a couple of breakthrough singers and some loyal friends and relatives and they were very quickly making serious progress. Lucas and Christine married at twenty-five and put off having children while Lucas worked hard to build and expand his “empire” with his old friend, who would eventually step aside to have more influence in A&R while Lucas remained as the president of the flourishing company.
They were both in their thirties, with a new office and studio premises opening up in LA when Christine discovered that she was pregnant. It was hard since they were both still really busy with the company and the new expansion, but it seemed to fly by and soon they were holding their baby son and bringing him from the hospital to their Austin home. Tristan was raised most of the time by nannies since his parents were busy so much of the time. Lucas was forever flying around the globe for deals, promotions and issues with artists while Christine often worked out of the home office, but couldn’t be disturbed during that time. Knowing nothing better, it didn’t really bother him all too much when he was a little kid, but as he got older and the happy families began appearing in movies and the TV shows that toddlers grew attached to, he wanted to spend more time with mommy and daddy rather than the series of nannies who he loved dearly, but who weren’t his parents. He acted up a little bit, hoping to catch his parent’s attention and spend some time with them, but they put it down to him needing more educational stimuli and so he had Spanish lessons at the age of four, along with French when he turned five.
He was sent to the best school money could buy and whenever school wasn’t in session, the family left Austin and usually went to LA in the summer, or to the Alps for Christmas break, with a trip to somewhere else thrown in during the springtime. He was a lucky kid who wanted for nothing, but even on these trips his parents would be working; checking e-mails, making phone calls or video conferencing with people across the states. Once again, Tristan was left in the care of his nannies, tutors or the skiing instructors who kept him out of trouble and out from under the adult’s feet. He made great grades in school since if he slacked off and got a low grade then it meant another tutor was hired and more of his free time was spent over textbooks, learning things he was certain a kid didn’t need to know.
It was one of his nannies who taught him how to play piano and with everything that his parents did music was a massive part of his life. As he got older he’d get called into the office to hear something that “would be in the charts next week” or “making millions by this time next year”. He couldn’t sing if his life depended on it, but the piano he fell in love with and pushed himself to learn more and develop and hone his skills, using the instrument as an outlet for a bad day or whenever he felt like he was being ignored. It also gave him something to show his parents when they were around for long enough.
In high school he made friends and everyone seemed to know who he was without him needing to tell them about his family. He had a number of kids wanting to hang around with him during his freshman year, but he started to notice a very bad trend; they would drop hints about sold out concerts, new albums or their own musical talents. It soon became apparent why they wanted to hang about with Tristan and it hurt him badly. They didn’t care about who he was or what he wanted so long as he could get them the tickets to meet the band or the albums with the singer’s autograph across the cover. They were things he could do easily enough, but he wasn’t about to buy friends and those “treats” became the things “only ever happened” when his dad or mom offered him the tickets usually a few days before a big concert and then he’d invite someone he did trust. He could ask and he would receive as many times as he liked, but he saved that power for the bands and performers he did like, or those he knew his best friend loved. Music was inevitably going to be a big part of his life and he couldn’t deny it. His curiosity grew for what his parents did and eventually he was allowed to tag along with Lucas and Christine on their trips into the company or to the studio from time to time. Finally, he got to bond properly with his parents. It was a great experience and Lucas, noticing his son’s interest, told him that there was a job and, eventually, the company if he wanted it. At sixteen it was all too much, but Tristan nodded and began learning more, occasionally spending his summers in LA at the office there, helping with little things and running errands.
High school graduation brought along college and Tristan was packing his bags for a four year move to New York. He planned on studying business and accounting and had an apartment set up and waiting for him. Lucas chose Tristan’s freshman year to expand and find a building in New York to put his name on, too. During the construction process, just after the winter break was over, Tristan popped in with his dad to see how everything was going. When Lucas was away and working back in Austin and LA, he wanted Tristan to keep him updated on everything, even though there was already a guy in place to run it once it was refurbished and ready to go. There would be a job in there for Tristan, too, if he wanted it alongside his studies. They were discussing the plans for the building when Tristan stepped on a piece of unstable planking that should have been cordoned off by the construction workers. He ended up falling close to twelve feet before landing on some debris on the ground below, conscious, but in a lot of pain.
The paramedics were soon on the scene, Lucas doing what he could to keep Tristan awake. He couldn’t move and was up rushed into hospital and whizzed through several x-rays and scans before being told he was undergoing surgery. Lucas made sure that he had the best treatment and the best surgeons before calling Christine and telling her the news. Tristan, from what they could see right now, had broken his left arm in two places, his right wrist and the doctors had found a burst fracture and a fracture-dislocation in the Lumbar vertebrae that was threatening Tristan’s mobility the longer they left it. They cut him open and removed the pieces of the bone that had exploded out into the surrounding tissue. There was a small bit of damage to some nerves, but the spinal cord remained intact, which was the surgeon’s biggest concern. Using bone harvested from his hip they proceeded with a spinal fusion and instrumentation, inserting metal hooks and rods to repair the damage caused by the instability of the spine after the fall.
When he woke up he was in a hospital bed looking like something out of a comedy movie. His arms were set in hard casts, he had a horrible back brace on and couldn’t do anything for himself. The rest of his body was covered in cuts and bruises and there was an acute concussion, though he had been spared any more damage thanks to the hard hat he had been wearing to comply with the health and safety guidelines someone on that site had neglected. Lucas, angry at the accident, had fired the damn firm and hired another, screaming that he would sue them for everything for the damage done. Tristan talked him out of that, though. The doctors told him he had a very long road to recovery and it wouldn’t be an easy one. They hadn’t been able to assess the nerve damage that might have possibly been caused yet, but they remained optimistic that Tristan would be able to walk, possibly with assistance.
It was twelve torturous weeks in the back brace and since he couldn’t do anything for himself they ended up calling a care team in. Lucas arranged for Tristan to go through all of his recovery in LA, since school was out of the question for the time being. For an eighteen year old to suddenly lose every ounce of independence he had, it was soul destroying and Tristan, for a while, just didn’t care. He was confined to a bed and small exercises under the watchful eye of a physiologist, but when they were gone he could do nothing but sit and stare at a TV screen, at least until the casts came off his hands. After that he could read again, and during this time he read everything he could get his hands on since it took his mind off of the uncomfortable back brace and the amount of pain relief they kept pumping into his system.
During the physiotherapy sessions, it was noticed that he had some problems with his left leg. He could walk on it, but he seemed to limp most of the time, or drag it. Once the back brace came off and it was declared to be healing nicely on its own, Tristan was allowed to try hydrotherapy and a few more harder exercises for his leg. It was close to a year later before Tristan was back to as close to his old mobility as he was going to get. He’d never be a professional athlete and he still, reluctantly, relied on a cane some of the days of the week. The nerve damage hadn’t been severe, but it could take another six to twelve months to repair itself, if it did at all. His limp wasn’t as noticeable as it had been in the beginning, so he had hope, but he still had pains in his back and leg if he did too much. He had to keep building up to things, which was why swimming helped and yoga; though he wasn’t about to get his foot behind his head.
College seemed like an old dream. His confidence was shattered and he didn’t know what he wanted to do anymore. He knew he had been lucky; he very easily could’ve been confined to a wheelchair for the rest of his life. He tried to joke about it, but he couldn’t and there was nothing funny about the matter. Eventually, Lucas offered him a job in LA within the A&R department of the company, knowing Tristan loved new and upcoming acts since he always voiced his opinion on them. For a few years it was great. His confidence crept back up, he met some new people and friends and got to sign some brilliant acts who went on to do great. Tristan still had dreams to chase though, and eventually, at the age of twenty-three, he accosted his parents and treated them to dinner in one of their favourite restaurants. He handed them the acceptance letter from NYU, dated from a week earlier and told them that he was going to finish what he had started. They had a few doubts and concerns, understandably, but Tristan wanted to do this and he wanted to prove that a fall wasn’t going to keep him down.
He moved back to New York, into a new apartment with his new dogs for company and then asked his dad to let him know if he needed anything doing in New York that he just had to call him. Tristan’s first stop after a shower and a change of clothes had been to the office building where he had had the fall and he scared the poor secretary when he almost died laughing at the potted plant that now sat in the spot where he had plunged from. Facing that place had been like putting the final nail in the coffin and Tristan knew he had done the right thing. His injuries were nothing more than scars and a few leg spasms every now and then if he walked too much in one day. The limp came back during the colder weather, but it was barely noticeable to anyone and no one had ever mentioned it to him in the city. The difference was, this time, he enrolled to study journalism and photography. After working in A&R, he had seen how much difference a good review could make or even a damn good photograph from the right angle. He had the experience under his belt if he chose to return to that industry, but he was curious as to what else he could do outside of that world, but still inside the music scene. He had taken to writing journals as part of his occupational therapy and it had actually stuck and become more of a hobby now. There was no harm in trying a couple of paths, opening a couple of different doors and peeking inside. Photography was something he just enjoyed, but something just compelled him to choose it anyway, especially since he had a habit of snapping away at every gig, vacation and place he went to, especially if there was a good view.
Freshman year passed by and even though he was much older than most he still enjoyed every minute of it. He worked in the New York office from time to time for his dad, especially if Lucas was busy and trying to split himself between every other office the company had, too. He doesn’t know what he plans on doing with his life, but he’s enjoying himself and living it as best as he can. Tristan doesn’t see the point in a five year plan or worrying about what might happen; the pieces will fall into place eventually. In the meantime, he’ll continue to laugh at that potted plant.
YOUR ALIAS: KIM.
RULE WORDS: kidnappedbykim
WHERE YOU FOUND US: At the gates of hell.
SAMPLE:Fetch!
