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| Viewing Single Post From: Herbert von Krolock | |
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| Skazka | Apr 19 2009, 07:19 PM |
all the ships go down/following the sound
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FIRST NAME Herbert ×MIDDLE NAME Sigismund Johannes ×NICKNAME/ALIAS (( Well, Meg seems to have taken to calling him Uncle Herbert in the IC Cbox... )) LAST NAME Von Krolock GENDER Male AGE 20. APPEARANCE The best possible description for Herbert's appearance would be a juxtaposition of unfamiliar concepts-- a predatory fop. His face shape is somewhat broad, but shaped by fine cheekbones and a strong jaw, definitely healthy and vigourous rather than sickly and delicate. Overall, there is the impression of handsomeness (or at least so he'd like to hear) but coupled with a wicked and entirely too generous smile it is in no particular way a frail or womanish beauty. (Maybe a little effeminate, but not feminine.) Though he has been known to wear powder on occasion (who hasn't?) there's still some colour in it, and the pale tone is a result of lack of hard labour out in the sunshine rather than inadequate nourishment. His hair is long and usually worn pulled back into a horse-tail, or a sleek braid with a ribbon of favour to keep it all together. His hairline is somewhat irregular, to his irritation, but that can be fixed, or at least camouflaged. Broad through the shoulders, strong through the legs, narrow-waisted-- not extreme in the pursuit of a girlish silhouette, and if he were to cinch himself into a whalebone-stiffened waistcoat like some vapid young dandies attempt it would likely fail miserably. He still worships at the temple of Fashion, of course, but everything's somewhat out of date, and his idea of accessories tend to be... quirky. His colour palette is predominantly blues and blacks, which he fancies look good on him, and lots of silky embroidered fabrics and disarrayed neckcloths. Being used, as he is, to relative solitude, sometimes he doesn't have quite the appropriate grasp on propriety-- for example, going about business with acquaintances he barely knows in shirtsleeves. However, he's extremely fond of his boots. He's got elegant hands, exquisitely kept but not completely free of calluses; and his second toe is longer than his first. Detail enough for you? ×HEIGHT 6'3''. He seems legitimately unawares that this might be anything extraordinary. ×BUILD Athletic but lean. He's very vain about his waistline. ×SKIN TONE Fair, tending towards pale. ×HAIR COLOUR Blond, a bit uneven. It's extremely pale in parts, but takes on a more dirty blond hue in others. ×EYE COLOUR Blue-green. ×FACE CLAIM Maté Kamaras ×ACCENT/PHONETICS He has a languid, drawling German accent atop his French, which can sometimes overpower the words themselves. Occasionally prone to malapropisms, but still considers French the language of love. Voice-wise, he's a pleasant (if untrained) baritone. Speaks a little bit of Hungarian, but can't usually be bothered, and miserably bad English. HISTORY At his birth he had been anticipated as one of a pair of twins, but the other passed on, shortly after birth. Born to a respectable family in eastern Styria that held a significant amount of land, he was an only child, and far from grieving, revelled in it. Perhaps that makes Herbert ungrateful-- or merely aggressive, audacious. Raised a quiet, unusually sensitive child, he was far more eager to observe than act-- went to chapel every day, of course, but was more inclined to daydream about the lives of his servants. Puberty wasn't particularly good to him. At a certain point in life he surely realised he was an attractive little child, and the potential leverage that came with this-- at six years old he'd figured out that he could bend his governess to his every whim by threatening to burst out crying at the top of his lungs, or even at the anticipation of this, just a quivering lower lip and big liquid eyes. That nanny didn't last long, and the next few were less willing to tolerate his voracious curiosity. (if I drop this off the battlements, will it shatter, or will it bounce? Can I teach my kitten to swim if I press down hard enough? ) His teenage years were mostly spent on private education, with no particularly dangerous exploits besides a good bit of low-key debauchery. Nothing so bad as to get himself disinherited, but Herbert has always had an unfortunate fascination for the wicked. Vati has since remarried, and it's about time for a further education, no? There was something closer to a Grand Tour planned, but it appears to have stalled momentarily on the arrival in Paris. It's Paris, land of the beautiful people, land of revolutions and spirit and vigour and style. Unfortunately upon arrival these mythical beauties seem to be in short supply-- even to a provincial sensibility, women here are no special attraction and the men are worse. ×FAMILY MEMBER(S) His Vati dearest, Graf von Krolock, and his mother, since deceased. His father has since remarried, but to a woman Herbert cannot particularly stand. ×SPOUSE/FIANCÉE None. With luck, he'll spontaneously acquire one... (And by "with luck", we mean "on pain of having everything he owns spontaneously defenestrated from the highest turret of the North Tower.") ×LOVE INTEREST ~ ×CRUSH At one point. Alfred Bachmeier, but he's half-forgotten. ×LOVER Practically anyone, as long as they're lovely enough. ×BELLE/BEAU ~ PERSONALITY Herbert is usually fairly good-natured, even languid, but on matters of pride he has a vicious, even explosive temper. In smaller conflicts he is more likely to wheedle than argue. For all that he claims to detest physical labour, he is likely more self-sufficient and physically capable than his more affluent counterparts, at the expense of some of his polish. (Living more or less in isolation, far out in what most city-dwellers would consider practically wilderness he isn't completely useless. He can't be. He'd have been eaten by wolves or something. Polished, but not dainty.) He's fond of hunting and other sport, but has no especial amount of talent. Accustomed to being somewhat solitary, he is often pensive and moody in private moments, but blooms in the company of others, particularly crowds. Not as if he'd deign to talk to them, but he seems to feed off the excess energy such a group creates. When he is solitary he is a comfort-loving and remarkably lazy reader of bad novels and Romantic poetry, usually propped up under a down comforter or three. Among his faults are his callousness, his pride and his stupidity-- for someone supposedly such a devoted student he is a careless dilettante and remarkably stupid vis-a-vis practical matters. (And has practically illegible handwriting. Naturally, he would be left-handed, but a negative childhood experience with a particularly stern governess has beaten the habit out of him.) He's fiercely proud of his own bloodline, and has never stopped to think why others might not be. (As one might have guessed, he's a bit of a daddy's boy, and beneath all the attempted rebelliousness and pursuit of the Dark and Sensual, he's pretty needy.) Politically, by default, he is quite conservative-- of the old school, mostly, interested in personal autonomy, the inheritance of land and the desire that all actual governing on a national scale rather than under personal jurisdiction should be as discreet as possible. His family prides itself on autonomy, and is fiercely land-proud. Herbert himself is somewhat conflicted-- between genuine affection for his hearth and homeland, and no small embarrassment for it. True, his home might be in some state of decay, but it's noble decay, damn you! True, you might not see another living human unrelated by blood for months on end, but it's proud ennui! There might be nothing but trees, pumpkins and surly villagers, but they are ours. Generally speaking he is vain, aggressive and fierce-- as well as a bit amoral-- but no real danger. His sense of humour is decidedly whimsical, and somewhat... deranged. (For a couple years before puberty, his nickname was "devil-child". Draw your own conclusion there.) Guests and new faces delight him, but only in limited numbers. He's not a social butterfly just yet. If he fixes his mind on something, he will not concede defeat, often simply browbeating or annoying his opponent into submission. With intimate friends (or those who he might conceivably become intimate with) he comes across as hedonistic and cloyingly seductive, even childlike. (He made a far more stoical child than he does an adult.) He loves completely and intensely, but only temporarily, highly susceptible to a bruised ego and tiring quickly of dull or inconstant companions. Treating them much like a favourite song, or a passing fad, certainly doesn't win him any real admirers. When he's in a passion about something, his dandified facade cracks, revealing a tendency to be bitter and temperamental. Yet to others' surprise, he has a remarkably simplified outlook on some matters (marriage, for one, being constructed of a mama and a papa rather than a husband and wife) and is... markedly inexperienced in the ways of love, for all that he'd like to claim. He has a tendency to be unexpectedly rough with his lovers, often engaging fingernails and teeth, and it might well be that he just hasn't learned that that's not what people do. While he might outwardly fulfill every possible stereotype and then some concerning gentlemen inclined to favour gentlemen, he is somewhat sensitive about that fact, especially coupled with the fact that he does, indeed, enjoy the company of ladies. On occasion. If they have the personality to keep it up. ×QUIRKS Food in his pantry tends to go bad, as he dines almost exclusively outside of the home. He's absolutely dreadful with pets, being very fond of them (as long as they are reasonably clean, do not shed and have suitably sensitive, twee little faces with big liquid eyes) but completely inept at caring for them in any position. However, he's an accomplished equestrian. Probably because you can pay people to care for your horses, and you can't do the same for a kitten or a puppy. ×SEXUAL ORIENTATION Homosexual, possibly bisexual if you tilt your head and squint. LIKES
DISLIKES
Secret Word: Peccadillo ~Other: Yes, he's a Tanz der Vampire canon, only without all the, y'know, vampire. Yes, that is truly a sad set of circumstances. He's also got a horse named Walther. I couldn't resist. Edited by Skazka, Jul 13 2009, 08:02 PM.
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| Herbert von Krolock · Misc. Canons | |
| Theme: Darkness |
 12:56 PM Nov 26
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