Post by VINCENT JASPER FIELDERS on Oct 31, 2011 22:43:14 GMT -5
VINCENT JASPER FIELDERS. NINETEEN. GREASER. MIKUS LASMANIS.
personality
KLEPTOMANIAC
vince likes things. specifically, other people's things. he likes to collect them, especially things which don't have any value to anyone else, but which just look pretty. he keeps them on a shelf above his bed, and rotates them around depending on what his favourites are or which girls he's trying to impress. he specifically likes other people's trophies, snowglobes, glass coke bottles, baseballs, and the occasional pair of panties - but of course, he doesn't keep those ones out where just any old guy can see them. of course, if he sees something shiny which could fetch a buck or two he'll take that too, and pawn it off at the next possible time. he won't take anything from anyone he knows too well - unless it's a joke, in which case that's fucking hilarious - but if it's something the socs liked, especially something valuable, then he will take great pleasure in relieving it from their already too-full hands.
FLIRTATIOUS
alright, so vincent likes the ladies. let's put it out there, plain and simple; vincent is a little bit of a sleaze. oh but it's all cute and endearing, isn't it? it's not like you ever pegged him up to be anything else. between his babyface and his abs of steel, vince has the physical features to draw in girls like flies to honey. except he carries that honey everywhere he goes, and uses it to full effect as much as he can. he just wants a little action - what self-respecting eighteen year old greaser doesn't? - and he's not afraid to put himself out there. less of a smooth, sweet-talker and more of that guy who's so insistent that you can't help but smile at him.
ONE OF THE FAMILY
if there was ever someone who was elly's twin brother, it was vinny. if darry hadn't already got the title, he would have made himself unofficial father of the family, because he is seriously protective of the kids he sees as his little brothers. they're not blood related in any way, but when you grow up next door to someone you get close to them, in a brotherly way. and of course, when his old man kicked him out he then just moved straight in with elliot and beau, living half out of their house and half out of his car.
UNSERIOUS
could vinny ever take anything seriously? not even if his life depended on it. about the only thing he never takes lightly are rumbles, and that's because someone else's life depends on him, and that kind of responsibility is about the only thing that sobers him up enough. he just can't see the dark side of things. everything's a joke with him, love him or hate him for it, he's always cheerful and jokey, and nobody can ever tell when he's mad or just playing. usually, you can presume he's playing - he never gets mad with anyone - but he's never anything but a bunch of laughs. and the scary thing? he doesn't change when he's off his face drunk. he acts just the same sober as completely wasted, which begs the question - has he ever been sober?
STORYTELLER
if exaggeration is an art form, then vincent is the monet of his age. if something happens on the street, at school, in a rumble or even just had the merest possibility of happening, you can be sure that vince will be there talking it up like no tomorrow. he's like a newspaper for the greaser boys; he likes to know everything that's happening and he's not afraid to let you 'read all about it'. he pumps up the bare facts with interesting bits - after all, who lets the truth get in the way of a good story - and especially about his sexual prowess, which he portrays as decked out in lights, 24-hour nonstop party time. it is, sort of, but it's definitely not like he makes it out to be. nothing is. he doesn't take himself seriously, and it's not wise for others to either. if you take anything vinny says as the truth, then you are undoubtedly too gullible to function.
TALKATIVE
talkative is an understatement. any moment with a silent vince is a rare, golden moment to be cherished and loved upon for all time. he just does not stop talking. over time he's built himself a good arsenal of random trivia and general knowledge facts, and he likes to casually remind people about things, things which they may not have known and probably would never want to know and definitely would never need to know. but he prides himself on those little tidbits. he's always got an opinion on something, but unlike others he doesn't shove it down your throat. but if someone talks over him he will keep saying the same thing in the same quiet tone of voice until someone acknowledges him. it's always fun to leave vince hanging, but he won't let you forget it for weeks. he's always popping up in conversations out of nowhere, like a meercat, with a stupid smile on his face and ten random facts up his sleeve. and of course, if he doesn't know something, he bullshits his way like a champ.
REV-HEAD
give him a car and he can make it go. no keys? no worries. no engine? maybe a few worries, but none that he can't sort out. vinny is a fan of the old adage that a little rust and engine oil never hurt anyone, and he's always got a bit of grease on his face. he doesn't like to wash it off, it's like a status symbol for him. he's got one little beauty covered up in the backyard that he's been saving for a sunny day; he scrapes together the money to buy parts and paint with odd jobs, and slowly he's getting it together - a chrome and red pontiac firebird that nobody is allowed to touch. he's such a whizz with cars, especially the old american muscle cars or little roadsters, that he has been offered a job at the local mechanics' more than once; but with his inability to focus on anything or see anything through, he's never been able to hold it down long enough to make a good living.
CHARMING
vince could charm the socks off anyone, and he often does. he likes to take the role of wingman for the other greaser boys, allowing others to bask in the spoils of his own awesomeness. after all, he isn't selfish. he could talk his way out of trouble, and often does. he could talk his way into anybody's pants, and definitely does. it's just one of his talents, having a way with words. if you like him, you like him, but he gets on people's nerves. and he never knows how to turn the charm off; there is no such thing as the friendzone with vincent. he thinks all females are entranced by the glow of his charm, and as such has very few female friends. he doesn't know how to treat them as friends, but rather as potential fucks.
FLAKY
dear vinny has never seen anything through in his life. he's never held down a job, never committed to a relationship, never not killed a goldfish. practically the only things that can keep his mind focused for long enough is pulling pranks which last for longer than a few days. oh, and going to school, but that's just because school has more hot girls on average than the street does on any given day. and they're more available, and they can't get away. but in all seriousness, vincent would never get focused enough to do anything that might benefit himself or others. he's the type who signs up to the track team, never goes to the training sessions, and wonders why he's never mailed the team jacket.
history
BIRTH
well, birth is never the most glorious of things. it's all blood and guts and screaming babies. and vince's birth was never anything different from the usual, fairly average as far as births went. his mother cried her heart out, bellowing like a tethered bull. but one thing here was slightly different; his father was nowhere to be seen. vincent didn't even know who he was for a few years, a few sweet years living with his mother. but then her parents threatened to kick her out - they had not even finished being parents, they refused to be forced to become grandparents. and so it was do or die for vince and his dear mum. leaving him on the front porch of his father's house, and screeching off into the night, that was the last time he saw his mother.
CHILDHOOD
things just went downhill from there. his father, a recovered alcoholic, began to slip back into old habits. after all, they do die hard. with the added stress of a loud, rambunctious toddler who just would not shut up, his father fell back to drinking - and he fell back hard. left pretty much to his own devices, vince was forced to make his own fun. unable to pronounce the 's' sound in all three of his names since his father refused to even attempt to teach him, as he reached the age of six and seven he was a bit of a token for the boys in the cul-de-sac, like a little mascot for them. he grew up with delusions of the grandeur of the greasers, and wanted more than anything to get old enough to join the gang proper.
ADOLESCENCE
so vince became a greaser, a real one, one of the true gang. he skipped school, worked on his car, hung out at the milk bar, fought off some socs, hooked up with plenty of girls; just an average greaser lifestyle. he never lost his penchant for talking and talking and talking. his father grew worse, sitting in his lazyboy for all hours of the day, drinking and watching games on the television. vince took to stealing what he needed. practically living with beau and elliot, he used the money he got from pawning off his collections of other people's things to spot food, gum, car parts and smokes. and when he turned sixteen, he got into a bigger fight than usual with his dad, and he turfed him out. he slept in his car and spends his days with elly and the rest of the gang.
ADULTHOOD
technically, legally, he's not an adult yet. but people grow up faster on the east side of the tracks. his father and himself are still on rocky ground; of course, it's not like his father ever came out of his drunken stupor long enough to even realise he comes home to stock up his collection or to 'borrow' a few bucks from his dad's pension fund. he didn't get a job, didn't really spend all that long in classes, and his life revolved around hanging out with the rest of the greasers, pulling pranks and generally being a bum. eh, it's a fun life. he's making the most of it.
out of character information
What do you go by?
JUNIPER.
How old are you?
nineteen.
How long have you been doing this?
a reeeally long time.
What timezone are you in?
eastern australian standard. I LIVE WITH THIRTEEN
How can we reach you?
gorga_maniac@hotmail.com, that is my msn.
Who else have you got?
nobody D:
Canon or Original?
canon - two-bit!
Care to show off your skills?as much as he felt like throwing himself in front of the hogwarts express every time she looked even the slightest bit disappointed in him, he kept trying. it was all he knew, pretty much; how to stubbornly refuse to give up on someone until they eventually accepted what was as clear as day to him - that he was worth the effort. well, they had not put him in the hufflepuff house for nothing. he was loyal to his friends, and he worked hard to get them in the first place. he was as 'puff as they came. he nodded as she agreed with him, smirking a little at her accent. the sexy russian undertone never failed to impress him, though she had told him before that she laid it on thicker than her natural accent. his mother's accent was almost unable to be understood by anyone not directly related to her. his father had sometimes asked toddler and tween luca to decipher his mother's thick brogue before they compromised, the frenchman and the irishwoman speaking in a clipped general european accent so they could understand each other. luca could have done both, but he preferred neither. the french was good for romantic evenings, though, and the irish was fun to bring out in the hog's head.
pouting at her as she dismissed his pain like it was nothing, he knew that she knew that he was mostly playing it up. sure, he wasn't hurting at all now - but he'd be damned if he said he hadn't howled like a newborn child when it happened. "it did too hurt," he said, eyebrows furrowed and voice all grumpy. "would you give me one if i asked really, really nicely?" oh, but who was he kidding? he couldn't even pretend to be mad at her for even one second. instead, his face cracked into smile and he turned his head towards her as they walked - at least he was not uncoordinated, so he could do that and not risk death or serious injury - and flicked his hair from his eyes. "so are you coming to the game?" so what that quidditch wasn't her favourite thing in the world. but it was his favourite thing - or one of them, because food and nina and himself and sex had to go in there somewhere - and besides, it was the first game of the year and he'd been practicing really hard and he just desperately wanted to impress her. and beat james, but even that came second to making nina proud of him.
"oh god, have i ever mentioned i love it when you do that little russian thing?" he gushed, throwing his head back melodramaticlly. gee, only about a million times. but then he'd say it a million more because it was so true. it was like pavlova for his ears and candy for his heart. and she was right, too. he'd have power one day and then he could be a god if he really wanted. and he felt like one, too, because he had the power to make nina give him a public display of affection, and that was a very strong power indeed. she fell back from her tiptoes. this was one of those times he hated his huge, hulking height and wished he was a normal person for once. it reminded him of the time in third year when he had cast his first patronus, and out it came as a giant bear, which then proceeded to gambol around happily and roll on its back. he later researched on the bear, and discovered it was a sun bear - a cheerful friendly vegetarian despite its grizzly exterior. he was just like that, a big cuddly teddy bear, really; he might have looked dangerous at six foot two, but that was just appearances and his father's lucky genes.
that got him thinking - between him and nina, their children would be as thin as rakes and either very short, or very tall. he hoped for tall, but if they looked anything like nina then they would be stunning anyway. not that it was important that he think about what their future children would look like right at this present moment. nina was excellent at bringing him back down to earth from his fluffy cloud nine, and she always knew what the most important thing at hand was. now that they were around other people and in a public place, that which was usually the most important thing on both their minds - his mostly - had to slip into the background. now there was only one thing that was more important to any self-respecting seniors: alcohol. he laughed at her, but god knew he was thinking it too. "why do you always rely on the gryffindors for your contraband substances? then again the snakes would keep it all to themselves, and we all know the ravens brew their own." he took a quick look around, but didn't see anything, much to his disappointment. he shrugged at her. there wasn't much he could do. and besides, he kind of had to put on a good show for the first years milling around.
