Post by VICTOR on Jul 12, 2012 11:29:14 GMT -5
VICTOR CHARLES VALENTINE
DATA
DATA
Class: Does doormat count? Victor is a Middie, though he feels more like the former....
Species: --
Name: Victor Charles Valentine
Nickname(s): (None that he knows of)
Birthday: 16 December, 3012
Owner:
House: Not a part of any house
PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION
Eye Color: a sort of hazel-gray, blending from darker edges to lighter inner-iris
Hair Color: More grays and whites these days, but perhaps it was a reddish-blond
Height: 5' 8"
Weight: 157 lbs
Build: a slightly portly man, not too tall, and rather average all around. He could have been considered handsome once.
Distinguishing Features: His glasses, for one, which he keeps on a chain like one may use for monocles. It's the only stylish and expensive thing he owns. The next is the tired look on his face, which is the usual expression he wears. Sometimes, if caught unawares, he will be wearing a pained expression, almost as if someone is twisting his arm. Because someone technically is. He is also clean-shaven, with the exception of his full-mustache and slight side-burns.
Typical Dress: He has one good suit and nice polished shoes he wears when he needs to look professional, and on occasions. Otherwise, he has a slightly worn looking 3 piece that he puts on with a tie, in attempts to maintain any remaining respectability.
Orientation: Straight
Other Notes: He also has a ring of keys he keeps hidden in his inner coat lapel, but that only he knows. He is the head of the HHS, or the Hybrid Humane Society.
PERSONALITY
Age: 30
Likes: (at least 4)
[one] Hybrids. He sincerely cares for each and every one of them, regardless of how they treat him in return. He couldn't even think to hurt one of them.
[two] Jams and scones. There's just something about the rich sweetness of any kind of jam combined with warm, soft, fresh-baked buttered scones. It used to be a special treat back home. He's nearly forgotten how they taste now, it's been so long.
[three] His sisters. He's very fond of them, and they often mother him and help him out when he's in trouble. This results in him being a very gentlemanly man when it comes to a lady in distress.
[more?] New suits. A crisp new three piece suit, or a tuxedo, better yet. He always wished he could have one, with a handsome pocketwatch on a chain, too. Ah, but you know what they say; if wishes were hybrids...
Dislikes: (at least 4)
[one] Fighting and Arguing. He would much prefer that everyone just got along. The shouting and the potential for physical injury, along with those harsh words--since he was a child he hated such an environment, and he certainly doesn't want to experience it now as an adult.
[two] Silence (loneliness). He hasn't exactly had many friends in life, but at least he grew up in a busy, cramped household. The eeriness of stillness and the distinct disjuncted feeling of being alone.... *shudders* No. He doesn't like that at all. Solitary life is not the life for this man.
[three] Refuse. Trash and defecation, dirty things in general, it's all very disgusting. He simply despises filth. It's another reason why he's certain to make sure the hybrids cages are clean and they are housebroken quickly.
[more?] Human children. It's not that he hates them or anything, he doesn't really know how to handle them, and they are loud, obnoxious, unreasonable--my goodness, why can't they be raised properly?
Aspirations
- Pay off his debt to Whitestag (hopefully well before Goldsbloom gets involved....)
- Somehow keep the HHS running for as long as he lives, and even after. Someone needs to give those poor hybrids a place to stay and a better life.
- Maybe he can open up the perfect little bakery, someday, so he can do the other thing in life he enjoys most: baking fresh scones to have with homemade jam.
Fears
- Being pricked with needles. He despises visits to the doctors and shots, and he's sympathetic to the hybrids every time his sister comes around to give annual shots.
- Thunderstorms. It took one to seperate him from his family that fateful day (though he was returned safely) they always leave him uncomfortable if they are fiercer than a certain degree.
- Need he say it? Sleeping with the fishes....
Strengths:
- Reading Intentions. He is surprisingly good at it, too. Whether he be handling an unruly hybrid, or an unruly human, Victor is able to look at them and practically read their train of thought. It helps him reach understandings.
- Cooking/Baking. Since he's been a bachelor for most of his adult life, Victor has become an exceptional cook and baker. He makes all of his own meals (when his sisters don't send him tidbits) and is even chef when the family does get together for dinner.
- Mathematics. Being very well versed with his current economic situation, Victor is a whiz with numbers. He can spit off calculations of money and measurements and sizes and crunch numbers as fast as any calculator.
Weaknesses
- Favoritism. He's not happy that he does it, but there are just some people (and some hybrids) that ring right with him. They aren't abrasive and troublesome, so he tends to favor them with his ideas and gifts and kindness more than others.
- Flowers--pollen, to be exact. The poor man has allergies, which he has to take continual natural medicine for, but only during the spring when its worst. Other than that, he's fine with dander and dust and whatever.
- He can't sketch a good picture to save his life. Though he thinks he's a rather good artist, he barely does better than stick-figures in the common person's opinion.
Habits:
- Conditional OCD. Curiously enough, if there is any sort of arguing or in general a bad atmosphere surrounding mistakes someone (including himself) has done, a nervous tick of Victor's is to begin to clean. He can't sit still. He goes about fixing everything in sight that seems to be out of rights. That includes other people's wardrobes (correcting collars and buttoning sleeves and fixing ties) as well as anything that may be out of place around him (that book shelf is crooked--time to get a hammer and some nails)
- Frugality. He will find unabashedly genius ways to continuously recycle anything he can get his hands on so that he can stretch his dollars as far as he can.
- Pulling his mustache. When lost in thought, Victor will tug at the edges of his mustache and arch up his brows.
- Petting. He will pet the heads of those shorter than him, or pet hybrids, regardless of if they have fur or scales or spines. He sees it as good-natured and friendly and calming/soothing to those who are troubled, so he'll unconsciously start doing it to help people (and hybrids) feel better.
Overall Personality: Victor is a gentleman, because he was supported and loved by his older sisters and they often eased his little troubles and worries. This results in a healthy respect for women in general, and he is certain to be as helpful when there is a lady in distress.
A bit of a fatherly figure, Victor respects hybrids and believes they are not simple, stupid animals. He has a soft spot for them, especially the children, but ironically he finds himself very awkward when it comes to human children. They are bratty and prone to misgivings, and can grate on anyone's nerves. Ugh.
Non-confrontational. That's another big part of Victor's personality. He's a peace-loving guy, who'd rather use words to settle things than...er, any other methods. If only others would give him more of a break!
Other Notes: Victor takes rounds in his shelter every day twice a day. He personally gets to know each of the hybrids he takes in, and tends to their needs just as often. He makes sure they are healthy, and at least comfortable. On random occasions, he will join the HHS members on their trips to the Outskirts to catch hybrids--but whenever he joins them, those trips mostly become rescue missions.
HISTORICAL FACTS
Birthplace: Actually, Silverhollow. His mother had been there visiting a doctor for her late birth, and then it just happened.
Parents: Finbar and Bellamy Valentine. His father is deceased, but his mother is still alive and kicking
Siblings: 6 others, mostly sisters who are decently off and relatively happily married. He was the one boy of the family, and also is the youngest sibling.
One of his sisters (the middle-most) is a veterinarian who drops by the HHS monthly to provide free checkups. Victor is nearer to her than most of his sisters, and is dearly indebted to her.
Education: The basic expected education for someone of his status: he went through primary and secondary school, then started up his business halfway through and never quite finished those last two years of schooling. He didn't get the apprenticeship he wanted either, so...
History:
When Victor was very young, he had a bit of a negligent mother, but a very loving father. Yet both parents were (understandably) busy most of the time trying to stay out of debt and raise their daughters to better prospects, so he was often ignored. When he was separated from his family during a very busy picnic that broke up because of a sudden storm, Victor was lost and alone, drenched and frightened.
It was a hybrid that found him, a she-badger of all things, who took him in to her make-shift den and sheltered him there with her own kits. He was returned safely to his family, but he never forgot the kindness of that hybrid mother. From that day on, Victor knew he would return that kindness by passing it on to other hybrids.
He is close to all of his sisters, and very much enjoys each of their respective companies. Though there is one in particular who he spends the most time with, he is usually seen visiting them on and off throughout the year. Y'know, eating holiday dinner at one of their houses, or fishing with one of their husbands by-the-by.
GOSSIP
Known Facts:
(post somethings that everyone knows is true about your character)- He is in debt to Whitestag, and hasn't gotten any closer to fully paying off all of it.
- He is a bachelor, and probably has no chance of changing that status.
- He runs the HHS and is the final say on anything that happens there.
Rumors:
(what are some rumors going on about your character? Can be true or false)- He has an elaborate menagerie filled with the rarest and most exotic hybrids. Using the guise of being in debt and struggling, he smuggles hybrids into this zoo where they live lavishly as his personal pets.
- He can actually speak 'hybrid', and is in league with those dirty animals. They are like his familiars and can be summoned to do his bidding if someone crosses him.
- He is in love with a certain Noble lady who he believes has had a rough time and is misunderstood.
Secrets:
(What is something only your character knows?)- He's actually never met or seen a Metal-Man before
- Victor smuggles food to the Outskirts and the streets during the winter, though there is already little supply. He takes what he can find and leaves it at places where he knows hybrids will go to find it and eat it.
- There is a journal he keeps detailing each and every hybrid he's come in contact with. Though he is a poor artist, he does put detailed descriptions of those hybrids, and their personalities, some of the first things they say to him, etc.
THE PERSON BEHIND THE SCENES
(tell us a bit about yourself)Roleplayer: Pendragon Knight
Years Role-Playing: 2-3 years (on and off)
Contact: PM me <3
Other Characters: Lillian Goldsbloom, Idris Sen, Nadia Fortuna, Matthew Jones, Sheer Austin
ROLEPLAY SAMPLE
The poor creature was shivering in its cell, beaten and bruised. The obvious signs of rough handling littered the feral’s body; haggard round eyes stared up, large and sharp, from between the bars. A matted pelt and twin round ears that had chips taken out of the sides, along with bruised hands and feet—all this told a story of violent struggle.
Sympathy struck him in waves, as Victor halted before its cage. Irene Brown had been in charge of this round up, and these were the results? He would have to speak to her about this coarse method of handling. He greatly disapproved. The hybrid before him now was hardly an adolescent, at best.
Kneeling so that he was eye-level with the crouched figure, Victor corrected his spectacles. “My, my, you look to be a Lesser Slow Loris, if I’m not mistaken. Poor dear,” he cooed.
Another member of his HHS staff entered the room, and Victor heard him quickly click over. The Loris in the cage before him puffed up and flashed open its mouth. Though its face was mostly-humanoid, its teeth were clearly still that of the Loris, just on a larger human scale. Lengthy eye-teeth and blunt but strong incisors were on display, an angry loud noise issued from its maw in unison with the rest of the behavior.
“S-sir! I would get too close to that one! It’s wild and it scratched up Yves pretty bad. It’s mad—”
“—Of course it is,” Victor kept his voice calm and soothing, slipping out his journal and attempting a sketch of the primate-like hybrid. He began taking notes on it quickly, size, coloration, breed, gender, ‘blend’ (how he referred to its animal:human ratio was in appearance, and then in behavior, where he left an empty space for later). He pocketed the journal again in his inner coat pocket. “The way it’s been handled, I would be upset and angry, too.”
The member behind him cowed a little. “Still…” but his argument died somewhat.
Victor knew to be mindful. Lesser Loris were adorable, but they had a poison they produced from glands above their eyebrows and on their elbows. If they lapped at that poison, then bit, he wouldn’t likely survive that bite. So Victor looked it deeply in the eyes.
Scared. Mean people. Go away. Hungry. Hurting.
It was the jist of the Loris’ mindframe that he could see in its eyes. He—for he was male—was set with intentions of defense and survival. It was time he warmed up this little fellow. Victor stood and disappeared into the rations pantry, returning with a bowl of crushed insects and sliced fruit. It was a meager portion, but he tried to get as much as he could manage to spare.
“I know you’re not happy, and in pain,” he said slowly, with his tone level and low and soothing. “But I can help you out, if you will let me.” The man placed the food against the bars, allowing the Loris to smell that it was safe. The Loris stared at him through the bars, large round eyes even wider, if possible. It stared at him for a long moment. Then slowly its fur began to settle back down.
“There we are! Good. Now, let me just put this in for you, and we can change you to a more comfortable habitat in no time. I’m sorry that you’re in this pen to begin with,” Victor assured in the same tone, sliding his hand into the bars to place down the bowl.
It happened very fast. The Loris launched forward and bit his hand, then jumped back with the food bowl.
A sharp cry was heard from the worker behind him, who ran forward with a stunning pole toward the cage.
“No!” Victor intervened, wincing, and nursing his hand. The skin had gone white, then pink, then flushed red. Before his eyes, it began to seep blood. The man sighed, getting to his feet. “He’s just startled. He’ll come around. Put that away. And get me a fresh bandage, please.”
“But…Sir…” the worker was still tense, it was evident in his voice. “That thing—it’s rabid—we should put it down!”
Victor turned to glance at his staffer, seeing that he was just as frightened as the Loris was. Maybe more. Again, the man sighed tiredly.
“We’ll do no such thing. Now I’d like that bandage.” Victor heard the other, younger man shuffle off while he himself went to the sink to clean his hand. It wasn’t a deep bite; just enough to get the message across.
The entire time the lesser Loris had been watching him unblinkingly, not having taken a mouthful from his food.
He turned a tired smile to the feral creature. “It’s alright. I know you didn’t mean it. I understand,” and he gently flexed his fingers to test their response. “My name is Victor. I run this place. It is a shelter for injured hybrids, and those who need a home. I’m going to find you a family, and a nice place to live. Will you let me help you?” Victor turned to face the Loris again.
The Loris simply stared at him.
Victor turned to leave, moving towards the door at a slow, relaxed pace. He’d only just reached it, when from behind him came a sound.
It was more of a slurred mmmmrrroaw than a defined voice; “Virrrrrrrrrrrrrctor.”
And Victor smiled.