Post by Toyama Hotaru on Jul 11, 2009 2:50:47 GMT -5
THE BASICS
Name; Toyama Hotaru :: 遠山蛍
Nicknames; Hota
Age; 18 years old
Year; 3
Class; B
Family; Hotaru currently lives with his mother, Iseul-- a half-korean, age forty-five, stay-at-home mother, though her inheritance is responsible for most of the family wealth, his father, Yuichi-- a forty-eight year old physician who works 99% of the time, and his younger sister, aged 16, Kaiya, who is in class 1-A and has taken it upon herself to hate her brother. Also living under their roof is Yuichi's eighty-two year old mother, Ayame, though not much is heard from her in her old age.
THE LOOKS
Model; Shim Changmin, of Korean boyband TVXQ.
Hair; As a general rule, Hotaru's hair is kept a dark color, often dyed, but not to look unnatural. During school months, he usually keeps it a medium length.
Body Style; Hotaru stands at a height of 193 cm (6 feet, 4 inches), making him significantly taller than most of his Asian classmates. Combined with his weight of 61 kg (135 lbs), the boy could appear lanky-- however, through practicing football, he stays wiry.
Usual Clothing; Hotaru's clothing tends to reflect part of the boy's personality. Mainly, he goes about in laid-back, yet stylish, jeans and t-shirts, as well as other casual wear, when outside of school.
Distinguishing Features; Beyond Hotarus height, he also has a very distinguished face. His nose tends to look somewhat large, almost Caucasian, especially paired with his somewhat large ears. And then, of course, there are his eyes-- which become uneven when he's happy. (ovO)
THE PERSON INSIDE
History; The union between Iseul and Yuichi Toyama was an unusual one-- a well-off, young Japanese doctor marrying a half-Korean, half-brat young woman? The thought wasn't unheard of, exactly... but it wasn't exactly welcome either.
Nevertheless, the marriage that bloomed between Hotaru's parents was one of love-- love which they soon shared in raising their first child, Hotaru, born on June 20th. However, the job that Yuichi worked was not one with flexible hours. As Hotaru, and, two years later, his sister were raised, it was primarily by the hand of their mother. It wasn't easy, not at all, but it was certainlybetter than both parents working.
When Hotaru was of the young age of five, he walked in on a very intimately awkward scene. His mother, the stronghold, was crying. Almost immediately, the toddler began to do the same-- after all, wasn't that what you were supposed to do? Laugh as one, cry as one? It was not until he was much older that Hotaru understood-- Iseul's parents, back in Korea, had both passed away, leaving the Toyama family with both a blessing and a curse-- as the only heir to the family, Iseul inherited all of the family assets.
From then on out, Hotaru and Kaiya enjoyed a leisurely childhood. They both went to rather upper class primary schools in Kishiwada, passing into good middle schools that prepared them for the entrance exams into Kishiwada Koutougakkou.Outside of school, despite sometimes being teased for their heritage, both children had plenty of friends and activities to go on. Hotaru, himself, joined the Football Club in both middle and high school, which only furthered the social life of the boy. Nothing was expected to have gone wrong.
Really, nothing did. It was just that sometimes, Hota had an unexplainable need, starting around the age of twelve, for fire. Not big fires, nothing like that-- though there were a few close calls-- just a little purple lighter that the boy has carried around with him since God knows when. Despite his social connections, this little quirk has cost the boy some things-- friends don't automatically think of him for after school activities, and through a couple of run-ins with the administration, he had been marked as a little too daring for some.
Of course, there are also the types that like a bad boy.
Personality; Hota is, in short, a generally friendly person, if you stay on his good side. Most of the time, the boy maintains an easy-going manner, divulging in sarcasm and flirting, but not excessively so. If you can catch him at a time when he's not eating something doused in hot sauce, Hota-kun can be a relatively easy person to know. He loves jokes-- especially corny or perverted ones-- as well as serious conversations, as long as he can keep using that mouth of his. When he makes friends, he'd go to the end of the world for them. And when he falls in love... boy, does he fall.
Of course, everyone has more than one side to them. Hotaru is no exception, either. When the teeth come out, they can be really sharp. Among the things that piss the boy off are ignorance, unfaithfulness, and people that cause his friends trouble. Another unfortunate tendency of his, though, is to be jealous-- envy comes easier to this boy than it does to most. Hotaru is quick to fight, if he gets the opportunity-- so don't get in his way.
THE ROLEPLAYER
Your Name; Anna! Your other admin~
Roleplay Sample;
(Our generation has had no Great War, no Great Depression. Our war is spiritual. Our depression is our lives.)
The room was dark, an overhead projector shooting out scenes in grainy black and white. Every couple of moments, the movie would flick out for a moment before refocusing. Damaged shots of smiling hippies flashing peace signs and unruly facial hair switched off with picket protests, campfires, all the good stuff. A single, dark pair of eyes stared at the screen, watering a little bit in the contrast between the bright screen and the rest of the darkness. This was the kind of thing that Emmett Takahashi was learning to live for.
No one in their right mind would have expected the fifteen year old to be there. Dark rooms? Sure, that didn’t seem too unlikely for the drug-dealing, partner-stealing Asian. But this was something different, entirely. Even Emmett himself wouldn’t have thought of it.
(Nothing of me is original. I am the combined efforts of everyone I have ever known.)
The youngest Takahashi was wary. Wary of situations, wary of ideals, wary of people, and most of all, wary of life. The people that the boy chose to get close to were very few and far between, and even then, close was a relative term. Yet, somehow, one of those few had seen through the thick shield that Emmy had carefully placed between himself and the rest of the world. One of those few had the guts to tell him that he needed something new, that falling apart wasn’t the way to deal with it. One of those few had handed him the flyer and simply walked away.
Surely that was it; the simplicity of the entire thing left Emmy speechless, yearning for more blatant honesty, wanting something that didn’t force anything upon you. The shrugging manner of the invitation had that easiness. The flyer only enforced it, black and white, clean, unpersuasive. And just like that, Emmett hadn’t been able to stay away.
(The best way is not to fight it, just go.)
Emmy blinked, ten or so times, as the bright, luminescent lights built into the speckled ceiling sprung back to life, and the screen went back to its blue glow, the film over. Suddenly, the boy noticed that many other seats had been occupied with other students, fully equipped with their school uniforms and bookbags, just as he was. When that had happened, Emmy couldn’t be sure, too preoccupied with the beauty of the silent movie that had taken no time at all and made it feel like a million years. The boy took a glance around, before focusing back to the center of the room, running a hand through styled, strawberry-blonde hair, as a man walked to the front of the room.
“Good afternoon,” The man, in his slacks and work shirt, began with a smooth, low voice that demanded some amount of respect from the girls who were giggling in one corner. “My name is Mr. Noir. You may know me as an Art teacher here,” He paused, running a hand through dark, straight hair that was on the verge of salt-and-pepper, “But today, I’m here only as an organizing element. Welcome to the Audio-Visual Club.”
(It’s easy to attack and destroy an act of creation. It’s a lot more difficult to perform one.)
“This club, as some of you know,” Emmy continued to listen, shooting a look at the girls in the corner, but primarily focusing on the man’s words, “Is more of an organization, shall we say? We don’t get a picture in the yearbook. We do not compete, unless one of us turns out something heartwrenching enough that we feel the need to share.” The man smiled, as did some of the other students—undoubtedly, returning members who knew something that Emmy did not. “You don’t need to have experience. But we do require that each meeting, you bring something new to the table. An idea, a project, a photo, a short film, an animation. Whatever it takes, I want you to be an active member.”
Emmy sat up a little bit straighter, as the girls from the corner left the room, along with a few others, and Mr. Noir resumed, “The first thing that I need you to do,” He said, “Is come closer. Turn to eachother. You don’t need to introduce yourself, but what I want you to do is open up. We want the real you. Nothing more, nothing less.”
“Your first act, as a member of this organization, is to take off your masks, or you may leave. Let us see you as you are, or go back to your hiding.”
(Create your own reality. Your own set of laws.)
[was that length necessary? answer: yes. yes it was.
