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Lenz, Rafael; Gym
Topic Started: Jul 24 2008, 11:37 PM (97 Views)
Rafael Lenz
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<font face="times new roman">RAFAEL LENZ<br>
<font size="6pt">{ i'm a boy who appreciates a good body,
regardless of the make }</font>
<br><br>
Posted Image
<br>
<span style='line-height: 100%'><font size="12pt">22 years old</font><br><br>
August 31 <font color="#7d7d7d"> -------</font> Munich, Bavaria, Germany<br>
<br><br>

<font size="5pt">Jednorezec Academy</font><br>
Gym teacher, <i>10th - 12th Grade</i><br>

<br><br>
<font size="4pt">dark blond hair</font><font size="6pt"><font color="dimgray">&</font></font><font size="4pt">ice cold eyes</font><br>
<font size="2pt">so arian it hurts</font><br>
<font size="3pt">one hundred and eighty-three centimetres</font><br>
<font size="2pt">seventy-seven kilos</font>

<br><br>

<font size="4pt">personality traits</font><br>
+ Focused. Protective. Emotional. Loyal. Dynamic. Courageous. Outspoken. Intellectual.<br>
- Discriminating. Prudish. Cautious. Short-tempered. Demanding. Overcritical. Harsh. Perfectionist.
<br><br>

<font size="5pt">brief history</font><br>
Fucked up circumstances nurses fucked up people. Life in the Munich Tal did that to Rafael at a very tender age; fucked him up. Or maybe that was the singlehanded job of an alcoholic mother and drugged up so-called father. He was never really Rafael’s father though. He was the man who had happened to slap his mother around hard enough for her to marry him and have his kids. Rafael never loved him, never looked up to him, never did anything but hate his guts and wish him dead. None of them did. To them he was nothing but another abusive son of a bitch in a neighbourhood filled with abusive sons of bitches.

<font size="4pt"><font color="dimgray">he had it coming</font></font>

Rafael grew up as the middle child in a clan of seven with two older sister and three younger ones as well as one brother who was but a year older than him. That is how it works in the ghetto. People get high, get tanked, rape each other or have generally dirty sex and then they end up with children they can’t, or want to, take care of. They raised each other; the seven of them. They were the family. Their parents were outsiders. Rafael never saw them as anything else. Drugs ruin peoples’ lives. That is why Rafael hates them. That is why he hates all those who take them. That is why he hates everything.
<br><br>
His childhood became one big dark blur because of heroin. His mother shot up in the living room leaving used needles, bent spoons and half cooked junk out for anyone to see and take. She was a pale and dirty woman with sunken cheeks, hollow eyes and broken teeth. Her name was Marina but to him she was just ‘her’. His father didn’t use as much drugs as his mother, but he reeked of vodka all times of the day. He was a loud and boisterous beast of a man who rather used his fists than his brain; on both his woman and his spawn. Once he’d been a sergeant in the army. Then he got into a fight with a superior officer, beat the man half to death, and was dismissed without recommendations.
<br><br>
At the age of twelve Rafael had taken more beatings than a professional wrestler might do during an entire career. To be quite honest it’s pretty much a miracle that he’s alive today, and even more so that he can still walk and talk like a normal functioning human being. His childhood fucked him up, but it also made him strong; it made him rise above the circumstances that had birthed him. He was in the hospital for the first time and for a longer period of time at the age of nine when two of his ribs had been broken and he’d passed out in school because of it; because they had been broken for almost a week. Then he went back in six months later with a concussion. The next year it was a broken arm and nose. And it seemed no one wondered what the hell was going on.

<font size="4pt"><font color="dimgray">it was as if he was already dead</font></font>


Then he turned fourteen and that was the year he walked in on his father raping one of his younger sisters. She was only eleven years old. Eleven fucking years old. Something snapped inside of him. That last bit of sanity that had been pushed and pushed and pushed to the very breaking limit finally yielded and he could see nothing but flaming red and he started hitting. And he kept hitting and screaming at the top of his lungs and kicking until there was blood running across his knuckles and down his arms and until his worn old sneakers were soaked in piss and vomit. Until the beast of man moved no more and he was all dead and limp; just like the useless dick still hanging outside his pants. Never had Rafael been as disgusted by his father as he was when he was dead.
<br><br>
Then the cops came and took him away. The legal system called him a juvenile delinquent and made him mentally deranged, classifying him as highly dangerous and class one priority. He was locked away for three long years in a facility where the only rules were the ones made by the guards and where the natural hierarchy was that of the jungle – eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth. Only the strongest would survive. Rafael didn’t even need to try to get on top. He was the king before he even arrived. You couldn’t kill your father in blind rage and expect your reputation to not exceed you. All he needed was the muscle mass to stay alive and manage to kick down anyone trying to force him off his throne. By the time he got out he had more blood on his hands than he would wish.

<font size="4pt"><font color="dimgray">and a conscience clear as snow</font></font>

The original sentence had been no less than ten years, but due to ‘good behaviour’ and witness statements from all his siblings he got out after merely three. Call the system corrupt, but if it hadn’t been for that flaw Rafael would not have made it out at all. Only one week prior his release his parole officer posted a letter to a school he had heard of that turned wolves into lambs. He figured it would be the perfect place for someone as Rafael. Someone who could kill in cold blood, or so he thought, and get away with it. Rafael didn’t object. He was rather eager to get out of Germany; to leave that life behind and to start a new one.
<br><br>
He was a newly turned seventeen year old street brawler with the physique of a Greek god and temper of a lit TNT fuse when he arrived at Jednorezec Academy to start in their grade eleven. At first he didn’t do well at all, or so he figured. He skipped classes, he got into fights, he smashed windows and he drove cars faster than necessary heading for destruction. Then he met her; Jesse. The only one who managed to reach in, grab him by the heart and shake some sense into him again. She opened his eyes and to Jednorezec he was another story of success because he fell in love.

<font size="4pt"><font color="dimgray">she’s his voice of reason</font></font>

Things cleared up after that. He started to exceed his classes instead of failing them because beneath the hard boiled surface of ‘I don’t give a shit’ lays the soul of a philosopher. Few can compare to the level of intellect resting behind Rafael’s sad blue eyes. He graduated twelfth grade and was forced to make a choice; staying in Prague or going back to Munich. That choice wasn’t very hard to make. The next year Rafael began his education at the mechanics programme at Jednorezec College where his specialty became race cars. He had started racing as soon as he had first arrived in Prague. Stolen vehicles since he couldn’t afford one of his own, but he didn’t care as long as he got to drive.
<br><br>
He was a natural talent behind the wheel; it was evident from the start because he was completely fearless. In Prague you race ten second cars because that is what the terrain is best for. Fast and furious are two words the sum up the persona that is Rafael Lenz. He became the king of the race scene when he was nineteen. He has been at the top ever since. This year…his position is being threatened by a new arrival. However Rafael is not ready to step down just yet. Neji Kotara have not even seen the beginning of the things that Rafael is capable of. If he fears him now…he’ll be terrified by tomorrow.

<br><br>

<font size="5pt">trivia</font><br>
•Boyfriend of Jesse since five years back.<br>
•There’s more to him than he chooses to show.<br>
•He drives a tricked out golden Mazda RX-7 that has yet to lose a race.<br>
•Has a way of scaring the shit out of people without even looking at them. <br>
•While in the slammer he once beat up a guy with a frying pan and then scorched his face in a pot of chilli con carne.<br>
•He has two tattoos; a Chinese dragon on red background around his upper right arm and the word Godspeed on his lower left flank.
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player: joey
 
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