Post by Fitz Gatsby on Jan 29, 2009 20:49:30 GMT -5
It's the return of the Fitz Gatsby character bio....here he is...hero...hustler...man about town.
➺ History of Magic II
➺ Magical Ethics II
➺ Potion Making II
➺ Vanquishing II
➺ Psychic Abilities II [/ul]
Favorite Class: History of Magic - humans are frickin' hilarious.
Least Favorite Class: Magical Ethics - who came up with THIS stuff?
Subject Best At: History of Magic - he kinda remembers this stuff.
Subject Worst At: Vanquishing - "Can't I just make 'em an offer?"
Length of Time at Magic School:[/size] 2 years.
HOME LIFE:
Residence: A Northern California trailer park. He travels to and from school via a transportation spell that he has not yet worked out how to get to take him to the girls' locker room.
Family:
➺Mother: Dori (short for Doriliisaamasa), age 78, though she looks only 29, largely incapable of holding down a regular job, so she slums a lot off state benefits. She knows a few spells, including a teleportation spell, a luck curse spell, and a shapeshifting spell to make her look human, but she really has basically been a failure at everything except Fitz her whole life.
[/ul]
History: Fitz was born fifteen years ago, an unwanted child the accidental result of a drunken fae orgy was raised by his mother. His mother Doriliisaamasa) slummed a lot off state benefits, incapable of holding down a job for very long and dipping in and out of alcoholism (it's cheap to get drunk when you're five inches tall.) Basically she has been a failure at everything except Fitz her whole life, and it somewhat frightens her that he's actually doing relatively well and they get along well together.
Due to the law of opposites, Fitz responded to his financially strapped upbringing by becoming somewhat obsessed with material possessions, cutting deals, and otherwise flinging himself into the world that he couldn't normally interact with. A social butterfly, a fixer and go-between, Fitz occupies a role that every high school has - the kid that can get you anything. Highly charming, bright but unmotivated, and a perennial layabout and troublemaker, Fitz is a Problem for whoever he attaches himself to.
Thus he is eternally a bassist in garage bands, a tagalong for popular cliques, a weed dealer to the stoners, a black market D&D miniature salesman to the nerds, and in general constantly turns up underfoot. (He finagled a transportation spell to get him to school and has not yet worked out how to use it to get into the girl's locker room.) He could get straight As if he applied himself. This means he gets Bs and Cs.
Without a clear picture of what is and isn't moral for humans, he started out dealing the services of one group of students to another - selling term papers and notes from the brains to the truants. Several brains wanted magical reagents that the teachers wouldn't let them have. He enlisted the help of the truants to obtain them. Suddenly he was in demand. Suddenly he fit in. He loved it immediately. So far the most dangerous stuff he's dealt is cocaine, but mundane drugs are something of a rarity in his repertoire. It's more likely that the flask of whiskey that the seniors sneak behind the groundskeeper's shed comes from Fitz, as are the clove cigarettes smoked by the goths. And everyone needs a fake ID, right? A constant network of minions keeps an ear out for possible trends and deals both on campus and off. Fitz pulls the strings like a happy spider.
Any Extra Information: Fitz is a perennial visitor to in-school suspension, detention, and other disciplinary actions due to his constant trouble-bringing.[/size]
SAMPLE WRITING: "Mr. Gatsby," said the professor with a guarded sort of exasperation. "What are you doing with that golf club?"
"Nothing." said Fitz, then, gracefully, added, "Right at this exact moment." He showed the professor the golf club as if demonstrating its inactivity. The professor looked at it with disdain. Fitz explained, unhelpfully: "It's a five-iron."
"I can see that it's a five-iron, Mr. Gatsby. What I want to know is why you're leaning on the handrail of the stairs with a five-iron in your hand."
"Well," Fitz said meditatively. "It seems unlikely that a nine-iron would be long enough."
"Long enough for what." It was not really a question.
"It's really not my fault," began Fitz. "But I can explain everything. It's mainly because Diana Darby's not really a selkie."
"What." said the professor.
"No, she's really not. Now Ben Ambler thinks she is. But she's not." Fitz said. "So when Ben finds out that the cell number he thought he was getting is not going to a selkie but instead to a dwarf..."
"GATSBY!" bellowed the jock from the top of the stairs. He came tearing down at a window-rattling speed, the wind of his streaking, running feet swirling into the stairwell. Fitz casually held out the five-iron at about his chest level and hooked the other end across the opposite handrail. Ambler slammed into the five iron - at nose level - and skidded about eight feet up the hall. Fitz, for his part, was already racing up the stairs, leaving the five-iron, bent, dangling from the handrail.
"I'LL KILL YOU!" yelled the jock, as the professor tried to hold him back.
"You'll get detention for this, Mr. Gatsby!" shouted the professor over the noise. "Again!"
"Sorry, can't hear you!" yelped Fitz from the top of the stairs. "Anyway, I've got class!"
"YOU GOT NO CLASS..." began the jock, but that was about all that Fitz could hear before he slid open a window and snuck out onto the ledge and began the precarious but necessary undertaking of getting into class without being noticed.
[/blockquote]
PLAYER INFO:[/b] English / Lit [I-IV]
Name: Jason
Age: old enough!
Preferred Way to be Contacted: private message
Other Characters Played: none yet
CHARACTER INFO:
Name: Fitzgerald "Fitz" Gatsby
Age: 15
Birthdate: January 1, 1976
Year in School: Sophomore
Type: Fairy (uses shapeshifting spell to appear human)
Powers: Telepathy. Limited Clarivoyance - he has flashes of insight due to past lives that he has had.
Affiliation: Good - but see Personality.
DESCRIPTION:
Physical Description: Very tall, slender, with a bad brown haircut, he stands out in a crowd, and usually appears to be loitering and possibly up to no good despite his rather overly normal dress. He's dodged acne so far, but he could probably stand to shave a little bit more than he does. His elbows often stick out to the sides and enhances his awkward appearance. Despite his awkward looks, though, he exudes confidence beyond his years - he always sounds, in his pleasant voice, like he's telling a jovial truth that everyone would know if they just listened.
Style: He dresses a little less colorfully than most of the early-90s kids do, but invests his "square" outfits with hipness all his own. Still, everyone's gotta have a Swatch, at least one or two hypercolor shirts, and a flannel-and-boots grunge-style outfit, and Fitz doesn't pass that up. He primps a little more than your average 15 year old male, and as a result is able to fit in, looks-wise, with many different crowds. A constant stream of borrowed ugly cars and fake IDs keeps him moving through the town.
Looks Like: John Gronlund, guitarist for Willowtree
Personality: Always hustling, always trying to get something new to do, see, steal, sell, acquire or otherwise obtain, he's a little exhausting, but always someone that people like to have around. After all, who else can get you backstage passes when all you had was a popcorn coupon? Fitz likes material things, likes the abilities magic gives him because they give him an advantage in getting ahead of his pint-sized business rivals.
Like a lot of fairies, Fitz is a bit flighty (haha), though he naturally can't fly in the shapechanged form he normally wears. Highly concerned with being abreast of every fad, he wears a Swatch and a hypercolor shirt, and listens to the very most recent New Jack Swing albums.
Although he has what one might call an underdeveloped sense of ethics, Fitz is far too penny-ante and annoying to be truly evil. Demons and devils despise him too much to see any potential in him. Of course, "good" is a relative term. Fitz's approach to the conflict is always to see what he can get out of it. "Fighting's out of style - fun's where the fear's at."
Fitz is acutely aware of the difference between himself and his human counterparts at the Magic School - this makes him work extra hard to fit in, or buy his way in when he can't fit in. Despite his shapeshifted disguise, he often has flashes of insight into his past lives - normally these past lives seem to involve mostly running from people who he owes money to, running from people whose girlfriends or wives he stole, or running from people who he just robbed. Clearly he didn't learn much in his past lives and seems well on track to learning nothing this time around either.
SCHOOL LIFE:
Classes taking:
➺ History of Magic II
➺ Magical Ethics II
➺ Potion Making II
➺ Vanquishing II
➺ Psychic Abilities II [/ul]
Favorite Class: History of Magic - humans are frickin' hilarious.
Least Favorite Class: Magical Ethics - who came up with THIS stuff?
Subject Best At: History of Magic - he kinda remembers this stuff.
Subject Worst At: Vanquishing - "Can't I just make 'em an offer?"
Length of Time at Magic School:[/size] 2 years.
HOME LIFE:
Residence: A Northern California trailer park. He travels to and from school via a transportation spell that he has not yet worked out how to get to take him to the girls' locker room.
Family:
➺Mother: Dori (short for Doriliisaamasa), age 78, though she looks only 29, largely incapable of holding down a regular job, so she slums a lot off state benefits. She knows a few spells, including a teleportation spell, a luck curse spell, and a shapeshifting spell to make her look human, but she really has basically been a failure at everything except Fitz her whole life.
[/ul]
History: Fitz was born fifteen years ago, an unwanted child the accidental result of a drunken fae orgy was raised by his mother. His mother Doriliisaamasa) slummed a lot off state benefits, incapable of holding down a job for very long and dipping in and out of alcoholism (it's cheap to get drunk when you're five inches tall.) Basically she has been a failure at everything except Fitz her whole life, and it somewhat frightens her that he's actually doing relatively well and they get along well together.
Due to the law of opposites, Fitz responded to his financially strapped upbringing by becoming somewhat obsessed with material possessions, cutting deals, and otherwise flinging himself into the world that he couldn't normally interact with. A social butterfly, a fixer and go-between, Fitz occupies a role that every high school has - the kid that can get you anything. Highly charming, bright but unmotivated, and a perennial layabout and troublemaker, Fitz is a Problem for whoever he attaches himself to.
Thus he is eternally a bassist in garage bands, a tagalong for popular cliques, a weed dealer to the stoners, a black market D&D miniature salesman to the nerds, and in general constantly turns up underfoot. (He finagled a transportation spell to get him to school and has not yet worked out how to use it to get into the girl's locker room.) He could get straight As if he applied himself. This means he gets Bs and Cs.
Without a clear picture of what is and isn't moral for humans, he started out dealing the services of one group of students to another - selling term papers and notes from the brains to the truants. Several brains wanted magical reagents that the teachers wouldn't let them have. He enlisted the help of the truants to obtain them. Suddenly he was in demand. Suddenly he fit in. He loved it immediately. So far the most dangerous stuff he's dealt is cocaine, but mundane drugs are something of a rarity in his repertoire. It's more likely that the flask of whiskey that the seniors sneak behind the groundskeeper's shed comes from Fitz, as are the clove cigarettes smoked by the goths. And everyone needs a fake ID, right? A constant network of minions keeps an ear out for possible trends and deals both on campus and off. Fitz pulls the strings like a happy spider.
Any Extra Information: Fitz is a perennial visitor to in-school suspension, detention, and other disciplinary actions due to his constant trouble-bringing.[/size]
SAMPLE WRITING: "Mr. Gatsby," said the professor with a guarded sort of exasperation. "What are you doing with that golf club?"
"Nothing." said Fitz, then, gracefully, added, "Right at this exact moment." He showed the professor the golf club as if demonstrating its inactivity. The professor looked at it with disdain. Fitz explained, unhelpfully: "It's a five-iron."
"I can see that it's a five-iron, Mr. Gatsby. What I want to know is why you're leaning on the handrail of the stairs with a five-iron in your hand."
"Well," Fitz said meditatively. "It seems unlikely that a nine-iron would be long enough."
"Long enough for what." It was not really a question.
"It's really not my fault," began Fitz. "But I can explain everything. It's mainly because Diana Darby's not really a selkie."
"What." said the professor.
"No, she's really not. Now Ben Ambler thinks she is. But she's not." Fitz said. "So when Ben finds out that the cell number he thought he was getting is not going to a selkie but instead to a dwarf..."
"GATSBY!" bellowed the jock from the top of the stairs. He came tearing down at a window-rattling speed, the wind of his streaking, running feet swirling into the stairwell. Fitz casually held out the five-iron at about his chest level and hooked the other end across the opposite handrail. Ambler slammed into the five iron - at nose level - and skidded about eight feet up the hall. Fitz, for his part, was already racing up the stairs, leaving the five-iron, bent, dangling from the handrail.
"I'LL KILL YOU!" yelled the jock, as the professor tried to hold him back.
"You'll get detention for this, Mr. Gatsby!" shouted the professor over the noise. "Again!"
"Sorry, can't hear you!" yelped Fitz from the top of the stairs. "Anyway, I've got class!"
"YOU GOT NO CLASS..." began the jock, but that was about all that Fitz could hear before he slid open a window and snuck out onto the ledge and began the precarious but necessary undertaking of getting into class without being noticed.
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