Yukio LeBeau

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Name: Anni
Age: Sixteen
Roleplaying Experience: Five, give or take a few months
How you found the site: Boku No Youkai

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Name: Yukio Alexis LeBeau
Gender: Male
Age: Fifteen
Hair Color: Dirty blond
Eye Color: Green
Skin Tone: Pale, peach
Height: 4’11 ½’’
Weight: 83 lbs
Wealth: Dirt poor. (New orphan)
Sexual Orientation: Homosexual
Why they are in La Campana: His sister convinced him to tell his parents about his sexuality [/size]

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Likes:
[/li][li] Loud engines
[/li][li] Rain/snow/mist
[/li][li] Taking walks
[/li][li] Reading (generally muggle fantasy)
[/li][li] Singing
[/li][li] Playing Piano
[/li][li] Listening to music
[/li][li] Bright colors
[/li][li] Landscapes
[/li][li] Painting
[/li][li] Daydreaming
[/li][li] School
[/li][li] Horses, Cats, Dogs, and Deer… and foxes
[/li][li] Mexican, Japanese, and Italian food
[/li][li] Cuddling
[/li][li] Blankets
[/li][li] Dancing
[/li][li] Writing
[/li][li] Violin
Dislikes:
[/li][li] Sudden noises (especially loud ones)
[/li][li] Screaming/Yelling
[/li][li] Ice
[/li][li] Sunny weather
[/li][li] Skating
[/li][li] Sketching
[/li][li] Winter
[/li][li] Chinese and Indian Food
[/li][li] Romantic relationships (lest, the thought of them)
[/li][li] The dark
[/li][li] Attempting to play Guitar
[/li][li] Birds, Snakes, Spiders, and Eels
[/li][li] Arguments
[/li][li] Ignorant people
[/li][li] Prejudice
[/li][li] Romance novels
[/li][li] Memorizing
[/li][li] Pity
Turn Ons:
[/li][li] Intelligence
[/li][li] Artistic skill
[/li][li] Tall
[/li][li] Toned, or at least slim
[/li][li] Bright or dark disposition
[/li][li] Humor
[/li][li] Controlling
Turn Offs:
[/li][li] Stupidity
[/li][li] Ignorance
[/li][li] Arrogance without the ability to back it up
[/li][li] Childishness
[/li][li] Women
[/li][li] “Door Mat” attitude
[/li][li] Overly muscular body
Nervous Habits:
[/li][li] Chews nails
[/li][li] Bites lips
[/li][li] Twirls hair
[/li][li] Swings legs
[/li][li] Hums
Fears:
[/li][li] the dark
[/li][li] Loneliness
[/li][li] Deep water
[/li][li] Failure
[/li][li] Rejection
[/li][li] Speaking in front of crowds or his class
[/li][li] Getting into trouble
Goals/Aspirations:
[/li][li] Learn English
[/li][li] Become a writer
[/li][li] Become a teacher
[/li][li] Travel and move across the globe
[/li][li] Complete school with perfect, or at least near perfect, grades
[/li][li] Find some friends
[/li][li] Find love (optional to him)
Appearance: His hair is a dirty blond, cut moderately short, and messy, in far too many layers to count. He has bangs, long enough to cover his eyes when wet, but whilst dry, they don’t quite reach. Sides cover most of his ears. His eyes are large and eyelashes thin, not very feminine but have an androgynous feel to them. The irises take on a dominantly green color with a yellow taint, a slight dusted effect with the gray, though it doesn’t take away from the actual color, still bright. His skin is a bit pale, as he doesn’t spend much time outside beyond what he must—he burns quite easily, you see. His face is oval with a soft jaw and sharp chin, thin in nature. His lips are constantly chapped. He’s exceptionally short, standing at 4’11’’, with his doctor telling him that no, he will not grow any taller after his growth spurt a year ago. He has small shoulders, feminine legs, and a slight curve to his back. His hands are thin, painter’s, musician’s, hands, and his feet are small, easy to keep light on the ground. His fingers on his left hand are rough due to taking up violin.
Personality: Yukio is generally one that can easily get along with at least most people. He prefers an extreme lack of confrontation, so he tends to put others before himself in smaller standards, especially when he doesn’t know them very well. With his friends, he’s more likely to take himself into consideration to that which he’s more thinking of himself first instead of his friends. Generally, this is because he trusts his friends not to ask him of anything that he would have to make the choice in the first place—this is excluding the mundane examples such as asking him to fetch them something, in which case he will either get up and do it, stare at them until they get the point and fetch it themselves, or flat out refuse. Depending on the friend, his choices differ. Too, in more important decisions than food or clothing, etc., he generally thinks of himself first—what he would gain or lose, before others, and if both are left unresponsive, or gaining, he’s less likely to be hesitant to speak up.

He generally prefers to be noticed. Be it his strange fashion sense or personality, Yukio tends to like the spotlight unless it’s a bad one. He recognizes the difference and often the bad side of being the center of attention, but he has little care for rumors or what others assume behind his back. If anything, he finds these ‘scandalous’ rumors quite amusing and listens attentively, though mostly just about himself. Either way, he especially likes teachers to notice him, but for grades and personality and little else. Good grades, at that, as he truly hates the thought of failing, much more the action—even with other people. He has a tendency to be almost too goal oriented to the point of losing focus on short term rather than future. Too, he gives teacher too much leeway in his own confidence. A harsh word cuts very deeply from those in authority than from a friend or random person, and a positive lifts him up far longer and higher in the same regard. This adoration generally causes him to be seen as a kiss-up or emotionally weak.

Yukio doesn’t much care about his pessimism. He’s rather open about it, really. Of course, just to see them deflate, he gives the good news first before outweighing it with the bad. Generally, this is to those that are not very close friends, to whom he keeps his thoughts to himself. Even so, Yukio is rather pessimistic and worries very often. Trying not to worry over things he has no control over just gives him headaches (as he’s very prone to having,) but he does it fairly often. He’s a worrier by nature, mostly about himself and success in whatever he attempts than his friend getting a bad grade or something. His worrying generally makes him sick, especially when exams are coming up, and it isn’t uncommon for him to be seen in the nurse’s office for a potion or two to get rid of it. Of course, his worrisome nature also comes with some better responses. At least, one: he’s considerably hardworking. If he’s worried about failing a test, he’s more likely to stay up until three every night for a week until he’s more comfortable. However, if he’s not worried about grades or goals, he can be rather lazy with his work and end up putting it to the side for something deemed more important.

He’s of an ambitious sort. Yes, he knows when to lay low and when to take a chance and grasp for what’s in reach. He’s more sly and clever than he lets people think. He’ll think on something for a while before making a decision if he has the time, but quickly if he doesn’t. He tends to find that kissing up to teachers and the like often pays more than not. He’ll bite his tongue and hold it for as long as possible in front of anyone with authority over him or those that might possibly freak enough to knock him down by whatever means. He’s wary of those of a vindictive sort, needless to say. Yukio himself doesn’t much have such a sort, unless he’s absolutely positive he won’t get into any trouble that could harm him in the long run. He’s always focused on a goal, almost too much, which feeds into his prior-mentioned worrisome tendencies. [/size][/font]

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Father: Victor LeBeau – 48 (Legally none)
Mother: Yumiko LeBeau, nee Miyagi – 50 (Legally none)
Sibling/s:
Renee LeBeau – 25
Mikoto LeBeau – 23
Sakura Komo, nee LeBeau – 22
Yukiko LeBeau – 12
(Legally none)
Other important relatives:
Akira Komo – 27
Pets:
-- (None anymore)
History: Yukio LeBeau was born in Lyon, France—or near enough to it, anyway. His father had been away on business in Paris and had missed the birth of his second son, as per formally expected third daughter. To say he was surprised to find out that he was, indeed, a boy, would be an understatement, but it didn’t matter much, beside the whole exchange of gifts to make shift a more ‘masculine’ atmosphere. He wasn’t pampered by a long shot, but he wasn’t horribly treated, either. Yukio was number four and as number four, he was behind one, two, and trhee. This generally goes without saying, but it has some importance. With one, Renee, Yumiko was concerned about every little thing. She never let the girl out of her sight and refused to let others hold her for more than a moment or two. With Mikoto, she was nearly the same way, but started to loosen up. With Sakura, she was nearly completely alright with the girl being out of her sight, as long as she knew where she was. With Yukio? It didn’t much matter if she knew where he was, merely if someone else did—preferably Renee, her best friends Justine and Caroline, or one of Renee’s little friends.

When Yukio was four, already fairly talkative with a knack for getting into things that made a mess, he found himself moving to Japan, into a little gated community perhaps forty minutes or so from Tokyo. Woods surrounded the area heavily, and it was a favorite pastime of his and his siblings’ to run through them, often barefooted. Yukio retrieved hist first pet from these woods, a turtle by the name of Speedy. Said turtle also came with a brother, thus called Steve by Sakura, but Trevor by Renee and Mikoto. Yukio himself preferred to call it Herbert, but his siblings quickly told him that that was a stupid name. Whatever the case, he still called it as such when his siblings weren’t around to tease him.

A year after the move, a February date ten days after Yumiko’s birthday, Yukio’s little sister was born—Yukiko, or simply Ko-ko. She was treated much like Yukio was when he was younger, but the almost-six-year-old still disliked her. If anyone, Sakura liked her the most, at least out of the children. She took care of her as much as her mother did, give or take a bit. While the two females took care of her, Renee, Mikoto and Yukio were generally busy playing in the woods, making believe they were Gargoyles or running down the single, long hall to slam into the wall at the end and see who got hurt first. A few months after Yukio’s sixth birthday, they moved to Tokyo. Victor had taken up a job in graphic design and animation, something he had taught himself over the years. The house they moved into was right beside Yumiko’s brother’s.

The children of the two households got along fine, though Renee preferred to keep to herself, as she had always done. They, Yukio and his family, meaning, began attending a large Christian church in town, where Yukio made his first friends outside of his family. Church, he realized, was an entirely boring place with little for him to do besides fall asleep on an uncomfortable pew, draw, or talk to his friends that were generally three pews behind him. Needless to say, as he was soon not allowed to do the latter and that it was highly ‘disrespectful’ to do the first, he did the second. Renee was very good at drawing by talent, a talent Yukio seemed to have inherited as well in a lesser form. As he soon found, however, he had more of a knack for painting, and so painting he preferred—but not at church. That, too, was not allowed.

By sheer luck or his ability to convince his parents, Yukio soon found himself in public school, not home-school as he had been accustomed to. He started as a (American) seventh grader in a large middle school inside of the Tokyo district and he surely made his mark. He started violin in the band and made it from scratching on every note to being First Chair and Section Leader within the first portion of the year. He excelled in his studies and found it fairly easy to speak to both students and teachers, though he was known for breaking dress-code every now and then. He discovered his sexuality fairly early, though the ballet he picked up was not his first clue. Really, it was how his eyes would linger on the cuter boys in class, or when his heart would taboo, his cheeks flush, whenever some moderate interaction occurred. He wasn’t scared—not in the long shot. He had made it seem to everyone that their opinions didn’t matter, but for this, it was true, for the most part. The only rejection he truly feared was from his parents. His friends didn’t mind, nor did his siblings when he spoke to them. Sakura, however, in the summer before his fifteenth birthday, convinced him to finally speak to his parents and, despite Mikoto’s light warnings, he did. To say they were furious would put it mildly. To have a day without an argument and even physical lashing out after that would have been a miracle. It wasn’t until August that he found out he’d been signed up for a new sort of school.

Roleplaying Sample: It was a school night.

A school night! So, then, what had possessed him to stay up, wandering around aimlessly through the city? Oh, he had no idea, actually, but it had seemed like a good idea at the time. He had a camera tied to his wrist and he had been taking pictures--of random buildings, mostly, or a few passerbys that had caught his eye. But now? Now, he had no idea where he was or how to get back. His ever-loving parents, of course, hadn't had the sense to give him a cell phone yet, so he couldn't call and figure out how to get back. Perhaps, he reasoned, this would be enough to persuade them? After all, he was wandering around a place that did not look very friendly--or, at times, all too friendly, given the constant arms in arms, hands in hands he saw fleeting about, skirts too short and shirts too tight. Surely, they had trouble breathing. Not to mention, it was cold out! Had these girls no sense of cold? Most likely not. After all, they seemed not to have a mind of right or wrong, either, tugging on the arms of men too drunk or polish enough to notice.

Yukio sniffed in light disdain, tugging along his shiny bicycle that he had somehow avoided being stolen by another. He was dressed pretty simply, today--baggy jeans with holes that covered small orange American Chucks (Converse, he'd heard,) a long sleeved, black turtle neck under a wide-necked, tight grey shirt that had black buckles as a sort of hold-up on his shoulders. The turtle-neck's sleeves were wide, lest at the elbow--above was quite tight. To lessen the cool air on the widened surface, he had thick, long, black gloves that were pushed down and bundled at his wrists. He had a thick scarf as well, cream in color, and his normal brown hat. He supposed he could pass as a homeless kid, but he didn't really care. It was warm, and that was what mattered. Before he'd left to take pictures, strangely, his sister had given him his corduroy bag as well, with a play gun in it without the orange tip. It clicked back and everything. When asked, she simply huffed and told him not to get stupid and lose it. He might need it. What he needed a toy gun for was beyond all possible thought.

It had to be passed ten.

Perhaps.. ten thirty, or ten fifteen—maybe even later than those. Ugh, he had to get back home somehow! He puffed out a breath, a sigh, through his nose. His legs hurt, his camera bouncing and slamming his arm each time he took a step. He was tempted to get on his bike, but his mom always said that, when you were lost, it was better to take it slow and memorize passing stores and streets than to go fast and end up getting even more lost than before! His dad agreed, of course, but, until now, Yukio had never been lost, so he had felt no reason to take it to heart. Now? Now he was.. He grumbled, too, very lightly under his breath. He jerked to a stop when he was almost mauled by a running fool, a drunk woman following him with cries and pleads for.. something.. Yukio wasn’t quite sure what and he didn’t know if he wanted to even have a clue. With another sigh, he continued until something caught his eye—a boy.. and a man, a rather large one at that. They seemed to be in a little bit of a scuffle.. or kidnapping. Oh, great… He just had to be the one to see it and be sober enough to know!

He glanced around a couple times, just to make sure no one else was paying attention. He practically growled in annoyance. No, he wasn’t annoyed that the kid was being mauled, just that he had to take care of it. He didn’t want to seem cruel, or selfish, but.. well, he wasn’t exactly large or intimidating(that was debatable around his friends), so he didn’t—ooooh! God bless you, sister! And, if he was found out that it was fake.. he’d run.. After all, he gave it a try, didn’t he? What else could he do? He glanced around again and spotted a box, one which he picked up and moved closer, closer.. behind the God-awful man (he smelled rather bad, too). After that, he placed his bike against the wall, careful to keep it in sight, before pulling out his toy gun and pressing it against the man’s back (he was short, shut up). “Let him go!” He spat, in, hopefully, a lower voice than he usually had.

All the while, he prayed(which was saying something, as he wasn’t a very religious boy) that it would work.. at least for enough time for one, or both, of them to get away.

Ugh.. people…