Post by Arthur Kirkland on Nov 6, 2009 17:51:04 GMT -5
ARTHUR KIRKLAND
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&&--You, who shall pull the strings
[/size][/center]Name: Leslie
Age: 19
Roleplaying Experience: 6 years
How you found the site: Jesus Raptor
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&&--The character cheat sheet
[/size][/center]Name: Arthur Kirkland
Gender: Male
Age: Twenty Three
Hair Color: Straw-Blonde
Eye Color: Green
Skin Tone: Light-skinned
Height: Five feet, eight inches
Weight: One hundred thirty eight
Wealth: Rich
Sexual Orientation: Bicurious
Why they are in La Campana: Arthur eventually grew tired of being alone in his manor in England and decided to move out to Barcelona. Barcelona, however, was not simply random choice—he became quite aware that a few of his “children” were living in the city and attending “La Campana”, including Alfred Jones—who Arthur himself had personally sent to the school. His extensive knowledge of poetry landed him a position as a teacher.[/size]
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&&--What makes the clock tick
[/size][/center]Likes:
Dislikes:
-The rest of his family…most of the time
-Being made fun of
-Weakness
-Losing
-Antonio
-Awkward situation
-Abandonment
-Not having friends
-Feeling inferior
-Being reminded of his past
-Surprises
-Losing control of his actions when drunk
-Illicit activity (excluding those he does, of course)
-Flamboyant fashion
-Hot dogs
-Perverts
-The morning after a night of drinking
-Being underestimated
-Injuries
-Disobedience[/ul]
Turn Ons:
-High Pain Tolerance: This, of course, applies for both mental, emotional, and physical pain tolerance.
-Romance/Seduction: Arthur loves being lavished and appreciated—candles, gifts, massages, etc.
-Playing with his hair: He can’t explain exactly why it is, but he has always loved the feeling of people touching, running their hands through, or just generally playing with his hair[/ul]
Turn Offs:
-Frail: Once again, relating to pain tolerance, Arthur can’t stand people who are too weak in any way. They’re pathetic and boring to him.
-Rough: Unless it’s Arthur initiating the roughness, he wouldn’t be down for being treated like some commodity for someone to do with what they wish
-Unnatural hair colors: They remind him of his rebellious teenage years, and how foolish he was then. And, of course, he can’t help but look down on people with unnatural hair colors by extension.
-Sex-addicts: Call him old-school, but Arthur is the type of guy who believes that intimacy/sex should be something special—shared between people with a true connection. He couldn’t tolerate someone who just wanted to use him for a ‘fling’.[/ul]
Nervous Habits:
Fears:
Goals/Aspirations:
Appearance:
Of about average height for someone his age, and relatively slim, Arthur usually comes off as unimposing at first glance. He is decently toned, but nothing anyone would brag about. With his thick eyebrows, straw blonde hair, and piercing green eyes, Arthur has the strange ability to look either intimidating or strangely adorable.
You can most frequently find Arthur wearing anything with green in it, and anything classy. Occasionally (i.e. when drunk), Arthur will wear one of his many 'costumes'...but don't expect to see it.
Personality: One thing that can truly be said in Arthur's favorite is that he's a very genuine person: what you see is the truth. There are no walls or facades--he wears his emotions on his sleeves, and will always tell you exactly what he means/wants. He is abrasive and blunt--a guy who'll get in your face and yell at you if you piss him off.
With that said...it may explain why Arthur doesn't really have any friends aside from his childhood rival. Self-obsessed, self-righteous, selfish, self-involved, and just about any word preceded with the word 'self' that holds a negative connotation. His top priority is, always has been, and always will be, himself. This doesn't necessarily make him a horrible person...Arthur just always considers his own needs before anyone else’s. It was the one quality that kept him sane as a child, growing up in such an abusive situation. He learned from an early age how to not only survive, but to persevere. Perhaps one of the most competent, rationalistic people one could meet, Arthur does have a steady head on his shoulders. He runs an entire, multi-million dollar company by himself. Yet it can be said that this manner of placing his own life and wellbeing at such high importance has lead to his anti-social tendencies.
Though Arthur isn't necessarily anti-social...he's just a social amputee. He doesn't really understand the subtleties and workings of 'casual conversation' with normal people (but with his fantasy friends...he has no problem). Generally, it's his own inhibitions that get in his way of connecting with people. He almost always over-analyzes situations, and reads into what people say far too much--and often misinterprets what they say. This, of course, added with the fact that he doesn't talk to anyone unless he sees some way to potentially benefit from the exchange, doesn't make him the most approachable person. But as said, Arthur is genuine, especially in this way--he'll let you know exactly why he's talking to you. He once sent a letter to a girl stating "Will you go out with me? But just so you know, I'm doing this for myself, because I think you could make me happy. Not because I want to dote on you or take care of you or anything."
Strict, moral-bound, and very high strung, Arthur is one you don't want to piss off...or disagree with. Firmly stead-fast in the thought that what he thinks is correct, and everyone else would do best to follow, Arthur has a habit of pushing his beliefs on other people--and getting upset if they disagree or challenge him. He's able to see different sides to an argument...he just tends to refuse to really give anyone else's opinion much credibility.
Of course, Arthur's rather unpredictable mood-swings don't help too much with his inability to connect with people or make friends. Arthur can, quite literary, go from pleasant to shouting your ear off before you could even realize you'd done something wrong. Perhaps bipolar (though he's never been tested), his moods can change on the turn of a dime. This can occasionally be good--when Arthur's in a pleasant mood, he's generally nice to be around, albeit a bit awkward. For the most part, however, it's poor luck on the part of the recipient. Arthur has been known to become violent when upset, and has beaten up his fair share of people.
Physical beatings aside, Arthur can also give you quite the scathing verbal assault. As well worded as he is witty, Arthur jumps at any chance to prove someone wrong. He's sarcastic and brusque--don't bother talking to him if you don't have thick skin. It's important to note that he (rarely) does this out of malice or spite...he really just likes to come of as witty; that and he doesn't really censor himself. He can, but doesn't really do so unless he has some underlying reason. It's a bit of a contradiction, really. He dresses in such fine clothing to appear civilized and respectable, but tends to get into petty childish arguments with anyone who so much as irritates him.
He's some mixture of Superiority and Inferiority complexes--though most who know him know that it tends to lean more on the side of 'inferiority'. As much as he puts out into view the fact that he's a great person, Arthur deals with quite a bit of self-deprecation. It's why compliments can so easily elevate his mood, and why insults can leave him in a state of depression. His mood swings seem to come into effect here too--he can be arrogant or riddled with doubt depending on the day. Much of it stems from needing to constantly prove himself as a child, and having to force himself into believing that he was incredibly awesome--otherwise, he may not have been able to cope with the insults and loneliness.
There is a reason so many people refer to Arthur as pathetic, or pitiable. It is because, despite the harsh, cruel front he puts forth, Arthur is truly still a scared, lonely child inside. A child who never had the chance to grow emotionally, and forced stoicism on himself in compensation. He still craves the love and attention deprived of him from so young an age. He would never say such aloud, but Arthur craves, more than anything, to be worried over. He wants to know that there’s someone—anyone—who cares enough to worry over his well-being. But again, the general air of pretentious superiority and hard exterior make it hard for anyone to be close to him.
And aah...last but not least, Arthur's isolation. He would tell you to your face that he likes being alone and not having to deal with anyone...but he really wouldn't mind having a friend or two. Too bad his methods of making friends are either bluntly asking them to be his friend (which doesn't work), or trying to convince people why they need him as a friend (which equally doesn't work)[/size][/font]
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&&--A glimpse of the past
[/size][/center]Father: Deceased
Mother: Deceased
Sibling/s:
Scotland, older brother
Ireland, older brother
Other important relatives:
Francis Bonnefoy, older brother, age 26.
Alfred Jones, 19. Arthur's 'younger brother'/adopted son.
Wesley Kirkland, 18. Arthur's only legitimately adopted son (as in...the only child for whom he has adoption papers)
Matthew Williams, 18. A younger brother/son figure for Arthur
Peter Kirkland, 12. Sort of the 'elephant in the room' that Arthur doesn't really talk about. An annoying child who he was more than happy to see adopted by others.
Pets:
-Union Jack, 3 years old, a Britannia Petite rabbit
-Lapi, three years old, an English Spot rabbit
-Musket, one year old, a dwarf English Lop rabbit
History:
Arthur was born into a rich family--on fertile land and with a prosperous business that his father owned. The youngest of two full blood siblings, Arthur was to be primed, from birth, to take over the business. Apparently his elder siblings had been allowed too much freedom, and were no longer 'trustworthy' or 'reliable' enough to take over such a large corporation. Arthur was quite literally raised to be intelligent—and intelligent he was.
It was because of this fact that Arthur's two older brothers taunted and beat him up so frequently. They knew that he was the 'favorite', but they were stronger than him at the time. His parents were always too busy with their business and maintaining ties with their equally wealthy family members to really notice. The young Arthur was eventually introduced to other members of his family outside of his brothers. Unfortunately...this didn't help much either. The only relative Arthur became acquainted with in any way was his 'brother', Francis--an annoying older boy. They formed a rivalry of sorts, and always ended up fighting one another when they ran into each other. Arthur hated Francis most of the time--the French boy looked for any way to insult Arthur that he could, and seemed to make stripping Arthur of his self-confidence into something of a hobby. Though Arthur cannot play the victim card in this regard; Arthur threw as much back at Francis as Francis did vice versa. Though Arthur was less for straight, verbal degradation, and more for crafty, intricate plans of revenge that often had only a small chance of working in his favor. He met Antonio through Francis; though he had no initial problems with Antonio, they never became friends. Antonio was Francis’ friend—and that meant he held loyalties to Francis. To Arthur, the two were synonymous; Antonio was simply weaker. Which meant that Antonio, one of the few at the time who was weaker than him, was the butt of Arthur’s physical abuse.
Yet despite all of their arguing, Arthur held a soft spot in his heart for Francis. Among his brothers who only bothered him when he happened by, his parents who cared only for the stimulation of his mind, and an ocean of other strange faces who couldn't care a lick for him, Francis was the only one who actually sought Arthur out to spend time with him. A small conciliation in theory, considering that most of their conversations ended with Arthur in tears saying what a jerk Francis was, but one that meant a great deal to Arthur. Though he would no sooner have admitted to that than wore the frilly dresses Francis seemed content on wearing (and which, Arthur would be ashamed to say now, led to him having his first crush on the man).
One memory in particular that he shares with the male was his quest to emulate Francis' hair. Fed up with Francis always commenting on how uncool his hair was, and how his own silky, long hair was all of the style in France, he set out to grow his hair out as long as he could. For six months, he evaded the house-servants and priest who demanded he cut his hair. Only to realize, when he truly looked at it, that his hair looked absolutely horrid. When Francis came by next, he had a great laugh about it, calling Arthur a 'golden caterpillar'. Of course, he made that French bastard cut his hair back to normal right then and there.
Arthur's parents died when he was still in grade school. The house set on fire from a stove Arthur had accidently left on. The memory is one scarred into Arthur's memory. Being so close to the source, he smelled the smoke soon after it had begun. Scared and nervous, he did what the firemen in school had taught him--get outside. Yet it was only as he fell on the grass in the front year, breathing heavily, that he truly felt fear--fear in the sound of his mother screaming, and then coughing as her lungs took in only smoke. He looked back and saw the flames licking up the sides of the wall, spilling out the window of his parents room. Terrified, but not willing to wait about as his parents burnt in an incredible inferno, Arthur dashed back up the stairs, shouting for his parents. They yelled back at him, telling him to get out and save himself. He was but a young boy, and so he followed their instructions, quickly passing out on the grass outside. He woke to sirens, and a pair of strong arms holding him. He cannot today recall the face of those arms, his vision blurred with tears as he wailed for his parents, looking at the shambles of the once beautiful manor. Arthur still hasn’t forgiven himself for their death, and holds himself accountable. To this day, it's something that frequently haunts his thoughts and dreams--the knowledge that his parents died from his stupidity
The loss devastated him--but what bothered him more was that his two elder brothers really just didn't give a damn. They were just eager to see what their parents had left them. When it came time to reading the will, all three brothers were in shock. To the elder two, the parents had left each some of their smaller estates, and 500,000 euros each. To Arthur, they had left the rest of their millions, their home-estate, all of the other estates around the world, and the multi-million dollar business. It would be the first time Arthur would finally feel superior over his brothers.
He was a mere child, barely in the fourth grade. Yet suddenly he was in a business suit and in a suite of an office. His employees were exceedingly wary at first—many of them quitting before he’d even entered his position. Those who stayed on board were pleasantly surprised—more than that, even. They were ecstatic. Arthur not only ran the business well, understood the formalities, could micro-manage, manage corporate, direct workflow, and lead the company with little hindrance—he was also a full-time student. For his entire childhood, Arthur built upon the company, expanding it farther than even his parents had. He had proven in a short time that he was more competent than anyone would’ve been able to predict.
The only respite from the seemingly overwhelming responsibility came in the boy who had salvaged his young childhood--Francis. Though the elder boy had no reason to do so (that Arthur could tell--he still assumes something perverted), he acted as a surrogate father to Arthur. And though Francis was far from perfect, it meant more than Arthur knew (or, even now knows) for he, as a young boy, to at least have someone he could turn to when things went bad. Francis would cook him food and try to teach him a multitude of skills--while also forcing the stubborn boy to be home-schooled when he wasn't working. But despite the Frenchman's mostly good intentions, Arthur wanted his freedom, and he was none too fond of Francis' strict rules. After a time, he suspected that Francis' only interest in him rested in monetary worth; how was he to blame? Within a family of people who cared only for money and power, and a company were deceit and ulterior motives were just another form of communication, he had no reason to suspect that Francis would be different. Why else would he be so mean and strict? So one day, when Arthur was a young teen, he demanded that Francis go away and never come back--and for some years, he had his wish. He felt bad for it almost instantly afterwards, but if there's one thing Arthur doesn't do, it's admit to a mistake.
Around his mid-teenage years, Arthur began to feel bitter towards some of his other relatives. While he’d had to work so hard and sacrifice the majority of his childhood, they all had their easy lives handed to them. Such began Arthur’s ‘rebellious’ faze. Without going into too much detail, it included bankrupting Antonio’s family, theft, assault, rock and roll, breaking and entering, arson, alcohol, drugs (opium, particularly), and joining a band that became immensely popular throughout the UK.
It all came down to one morning, after he had focused so much on the acquisition of pleasure and fortune, that Arthur woke up on a friend’s kitchen table, head swimming from the hangover. He received a phone call from the vice-CEO of his company, telling him that he needed to come into work right away. For the next month, Arthur had to work nonstop to quite literally stop the business from falling under and putting himself into bankruptcy. They managed to pull through, and continued to thrive. Yet he realized the stress had been self-imposed at that point; that his own negligence to the moral code he had so strictly cosigned himself to as a youth had landed him in such a position. He had almost lost everything he’d worked for, and for what? To live in a world of filth without any focus on his own well-being? Arthur promptly settled down and continued to work hard on making his company stable and prosperous. He ‘straightened-out’, and in fact began to pretend that his wild phase hadn’t occurred. No—he was a respectable gentleman. A poetry major, CEO of his own company, and well-mannered man to boot. He adamantly refutes all accusations to his ‘crazy’ period.
Yet the same feelings of isolation and bitterness were beginning to settle in. Arthur wanted…no, needed, a change. He knew very well that the old life style wasn’t the one to go back to, but he felt an odd sense of vertigo, as if he was just hovering with nowhere to go, and nothing tying him to the world. He found solace in his poetry—it was his escape, the place he could bare his soul. Yet it was only a temporary fix to a longstanding problem. They could numb his pain and make him feel productive, but they could not fill the emptiness.
While visiting his estate in America and on a walk, Arthur decided to stray from the designated path. Nothing terribly crazy—but Arthur somehow felt that on that day, he needed to stray from what he was supposed to do, and let his own instincts guide him. So, one might ask whether it was luck or fate that caused Arthur to quite literally stumble upon three year old Alfred Jones. Yet after a short conversation, Arthur’s mind was made up. He asked Alfred if he would like to be Arthur’s little brother. The boy accepted, and Arthur found himself with a son.
Though he would never admit it…he’d initially taken the boy in for selfish reasons. Certainly he wasn’t heartless enough to leave a young child alone in the wilderness no matter the circumstance—but it was for his own desires and needs that he adopted the boy, instead of trying to find his real parents. He wanted the child to rub in Francis’ face, as if to say “Look at this. I’ve raised this wonderful child. What have you done that’s worthwhile?” He dreamed of raising Alfred to be the perfect, model citizen in his image. Refined, moralistic and polite, Arthur knew he could give this child a wonderful life, and he planned to do just that.
Business frequently got in the way of his parenting. They lived in separate counties—separate continents. Alfred lived in his estate in America—but though Arthur was not always around, his rules and influences were. Alfred was always under the watchful eyes of the housing staff. Even still, Alfred flourished under the freedom Arthur allowed him. He had to be away for work often, but when he could be around, he always doted on the boy. He brought him the most lavish of toys, and even cooked for him when he could. They slept together in the same bed for the first few years, too. As far as Arthur was concerned, things were perfect. No matter how hard work was, he always had his little brother to call or see; that could instantly make his life better. The child made him happier than any one person or thing had. He was the first person to so openly praise and depend on Arthur. There were no reservations between them, no outside influences to cause any disruption between them. Arthur did always feel a bit bad about the boy’s situation though. Certainly he was well off, but he didn’t have many friends. Living on such a large estate so far away from anyone else, it was a bit hard. He had introduced the young boy to other members of his family, but he would never let any of them visit the house when he wasn’t around. And with Arthur’s schedule, he couldn't always be around to entertain the boy.
Reluctantly, Arthur let Francis and his new adopted son Matthew into their lives at for a while. Alfred needed a playmate, and both men helped each other with their children. Though they were far from a family—Francis and Arthur constantly berated the others’ parenting abilities. The fighting didn’t stop, and only escalated. It was only after Francis nearly kidnapped Alfred that Arthur took things in his own hands. Gathering the law on his side, he had CPS take Matthew from Francis by means of neglect and improper parenting, and took the boy in himself. He knew it was a cruelty, in some sense--but in Arthur's mind, it was right and just. Equal cause for effect.
Suddenly, Arthur was parent to two—and that number grew quite rapidly. Arthur also adopted a 'nephew' of his as his own son who'd been orphaned after his mother's death. An Australian “wild child”, who he took an immediate liking to. He also took in one of Wang Yao’s children, Hong Kuai, in England after he’d run away from his brother figure. Along with two other young girls, one from an island, one from India, and his young nephew, Peter, Arthur was suddenly a father figure to seven children—though Alfred always remained the most important to him.
Yet Arthur’s illusion of the perfect family was soon crushed. Kuai, Peter and the two girls eventually left him, denying his care and returning to their original countries (or in Peter’s case, to the care of Berwald and Tino). Yet they had never been much more than his wards—children he had expected to help while they needed him, and to gain from in the long run. When they no longer needed him, he tactfully withdrew. Yet the child who truly devastated him was the very one he had allowed himself to love. Alfred could not be controlled—could not be shaped to Arthur’s desire like putty. He was rebellious—as rebellious as Arthur himself had been as a teenager. Arthur’s response was, of course, to tighten his net around Alfred and try his very hardest to contain him. He tried to scold him, to lock him in his room, to threaten him, but Alfred was clearly growing tired of the civilized life Arthur had tried to impose on them. Things only grew worse between them. Ideals clashed, different feelings flew, and the two could no longer converse as they once had. It seemed as though every interaction between them ended in a shouting fit. Arthur had never thought that it would be so hard to raise a teenager. Alfred angered him more than he could ever hope to explain, and Arthur himself seemed to be in a perpetually bad mood all of the time. He became hostile in every day interactions, practically biting off the heads of anyone who bothered him. He was distraught, upset. And when he came home at the end of the day, he could be sure that he was going to be fighting with Alfred again. He hated it. He couldn't stand all of their fights—they were driving him insane. Yet he wouldn't allow Alfred to make his same mistakes, and be such a foolish belligerent. Sometimes he truly did lie asleep and wonder, truly wonder, if he was a horrible brother; a horrible person in general. He would have to remind himself that he did it for Alfred’s sake—because he loved him, and needed to protect him. How much of that was true, one couldn’t say. Both were stubborn, strong men—neither were willing to actually listen to what the other said.
The inevitable day came when things reached their boiling point. Alfred declared his independence, and announced that he would be moving to America. They fought against each other, with Arthur demanding that he stay, and Alfred stating that there was no way in hell. The situation escalated and, eventually, it was not mere harsh words that they attacked with. Arthur was by no means weak--but when it came to strength and fervor, Alfred easily over-powered him. He left that very night.
Arthur fell into a depression. He couldn’t stand feeling as he did when he was with Alfred, but the pain of losing him was proving to be crippling. And he knew the pain was mutual—they had both scarred each other deeply. Alfred had been the first (and only) person Arthur had allowed himself to truly love and dote upon. Every time Alfred yelled that he hated Arthur, and wished that he could never see his older brother again, Arthur wanted to cry—wanted to, but wouldn’t allow himself to. Alfred declaring freedom from him, abandoning him, is undoubtedly the one thing that has hurt Arthur the most in life. More than the scalding insults from Francis, than the physical beatings he’d taken, Alfred’s blatant disowning of him hurt the most. He had allowed himself to become vulnerable for the child,—and Alfred had ripped out the only bonds of trust Arthur had ever allowed himself. Which isn’t to say that Arthur is the victim in this situation—he worked the boy too hard, expected too much out of him. He tried to control Alfred because he was afraid—if Alfred could’ve stayed that sweet boy who depended on Arthur for everything, things could’ve been perfect. But Alfred wanted independence that Arthur wasn’t willing to grant him. Matthew, as well, left him to venture to Canada.
Arthur tried to busy himself with a constant stream of work—more work than he was legally allowed to take on, but enough to keep him constantly busy between meals and sleeping. His business flourished. He was rich, and in control of the hugest corporation in the world. Yet still, he was plagued by thoughts of the fight, by the loss of the boy he had, he’d come to realize, loved. Beyond the bonds of brothers, beyond the parental relationship he’d had—he loved the boy. He’d known for a couple of years, at least, but refused to acknowledge it. Somewhere along the lines, Arthur had come to realize the true depth of his affections; and they horrified him. In fact, were it not for his friendship with Honda Kiku, Arthur would most certainly have fallen to pieces over the years.
With the wounds still fresh, and their final argument still in mind, Arthur's empire collapsed around him. He had taken so much work to busy himself, but he suddenly found the pressure and weight of it all burying him. There were too many things to overlook, to many people trying to rebell against him. And in the end, he had to give much of it up to stabilize himself. He lost much of his wealth, but regained a sense of control in his own life.
It was with this thought--that he could do anything he wanted for the first time in his life--decided to pursue his first passion: writing and poetry. He left the majority of his businesses matters in the hands of his vice-president to venture to Spain. All he knew was that Spain was beautiful and, like England, a haven for writers. He spent his first four months simply writing in his own flat, scarcely venturing out but to visit the country-side. Yet when he felt too idle with all of his free-time and scarcely any from his business, Arthur decided to pursue his passions in another way; he would teach a poetry class. He looked around, and found an opening in only one school that would take a man who knew so little Spanish--La Campana. He called the head-master of the school and asked for openings. The headmaster was ecstatic, stating that their poetry teacher had just quit, and they needed a replacement pronto. Arthur showed him his degree, and he was set.
Roleplaying Sample: Exempt~
