Post by earlybird on May 27, 2013 20:46:44 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: f9f9f9; border: #1f4579 solid 10px; width: 420px; padding: 15 5 15 5px;] At the end of the day you're another day colder FULL NAME: Bellamy La Manche NICKNAMES: None HERITAGE: French AGE: 19 GROUP: Thief, Citizen of France CANON: Nope PLAYBY: Sam Claflin ----- PERSONALITY: Bellamy is a typical good-for-nothing thief, and he has always been a self-serving individual, only doing favors for people when it's within his best interest. Known to do anything for a franc, Bellamy always finds himself in a bevy of mishaps and predicaments, and relies on his street smarts and his cunning to get him out of any impending danger. He picks his battles very carefully, but still, he isn't one to shy away from any sort of confrontation. The only thing that trumps his greed is his pride, simply calling him a coward or a chicken would trigger his ego, and often forces him to do things that he normally wouldn't do, including endangering his own life. Bellamy is care-free and young. He is always looking for a good time and despite his lonely and rough upbringing, he's managed to maintain a uniquely positive outlook on life. Issues involving the government are ultimately irrelevant to him, and he will only pick sides in the most dire of circumstances. He does have a particular disdain for any notions of nobility or aristocracy; people shouldn't be entitled to things simply because they were born into a particular family. Material objects should be earned either through hard work, or in Bellamy's case, clever thievery. Handouts are only for the weak. While most people name him a liar or a cheat, Bellamy simply considers his actions necessary in order to survive. He's an exceedingly brilliant storyteller, and often provides the best distractions for his thieving companions in order to obtain the highest bounty possible. APPEARANCE: Bellamy is just under six feet and sturdily built, albeit a bit on the skinny side. His shoulders are wide and his legs are thick, but the lack of food and nutrition hasn't allowed his muscles to develop as much as he would like them to. His dirty brown hair falls just above his green eyes, and his facial features are very soft and effeminate. His beard is grizzled and untamed, but only grows in certain spots. GOALS: Bellamy doesn't have many goals, the only thing he cares about is survival. He has no thoughts of changing the government, no thoughts of raising a family, and no thoughts about entering a career in which he can make something of himself. He is resound to dying or being imprisoned at a relatively young age, and only lives in the moment. HISTORY: Bellamy was born to a whore mother and one of her patrons in the countryside of France in 1813. His mother died shortly after child-birth and his father wanted nothing to do with him, leaving him to the care of Madame Sauvignon. As the boy grew, so did his appetite, and the chores he did around the brothel were no longer enough to justify feeding him. Eventually, she sold him off to the owner of a leather factory looking for cheap labor, and nothing was cheaper than child workers. The owner was sadistic and abusive, often mistreating the workers as if they were a completely different species. There, Bellamy's disdain for the rich grew, and as his wits expanded so did his capacity for misbehavior. Bellamy often spoke out against the owners, and often received merciless beatings as a result. However, no matter how much he was beaten, Bellamy refused to give in. He often ceased his work in the middle of a shift. His misbehavior slowed when his life was verbally threatened, and Bellamy had realized he needed a way out, and fast. He banded together with Mylene and Pepin, two other workers who could no longer bear the abuse they had received at the hands of the owner. They escaped to the Cours de Miracles, where they joined a band of young thieves and picked up the skills necessary to survive in the streets of Paris. They thrived in the slums; Bellamy developed his skills as a linguist by watching bards and beggars ask for sous on the streets. While his stomach was never filled and his pockets were always empty, Bellamy saw beauty in the struggle to survive, and more importantly he had finally found a group of people who were like him; orphaned. However, after Pepin's death and Mylene's departure, Bellamy reluctantly took over the position of leadership amongst the band of thieves. As they grew, so did their egos, and eventually the band dispersed into smaller individual groups. Bellamy's crew changed with the months, and eventually, he had isolated himself from nearly everyone he knew. He could barely look after himself, why look after someone else? He began using people only as resources and not as companions, the only person who mattered now was Bellamy La Manche. ----- ALIAS: Early Bird (EB) AGE: 19 GENDER: Male OTHER CHARACTERS: None HOW DID YOU FIND US: Roro! ROLEPLAY SAMPLE: (From a Hunger Games fansite I used to be a part of) Jasper sat in his well-made bed, his head leaning lightly against the headboard; his face angled toward the ceiling. His left arm stretched forward all the way through his finger tips, a pendant that hung loosely from his fingers connected to a gold medal; the one Jasper had claimed at the first ever Panem Olympics. Jasper brought his right hand to his face and clasped his palms over his eyes, spreading his fingers every few seconds to look at his prize through a slightly obstructed view. He laughed, dropping the gold medal onto his lap, and began to slink deeper into the bed until his body was completely parallel to the floor. A smile crossed his face as he thought about the times coming. Jade and the man they called father were out collecting things for her to take to training at Julian Embryze’s academy. Jasper and Jade had both collected gold medals at the Olympics, and their father urged them to try and be mentored by the last victor of District Two. Like always, Jade was looking for a way to get better; but Jasper wanted nothing more than to give up Career training. But what was he going to do? A boy of his type would never be accepted anywhere. He couldn’t bake, he was too frail to work in the mines; shooting a bow was the only thing he had ever been good at. The results were in for the Embryze Academy, and of course, Jade had made it; Jasper had not. Their father and Jade had both taken it as a measure of disrespect; after all, Jasper was named the best archer in Panem, why wasn’t he considered good enough? But they all knew why. Jasper was sick, and no amount of money that Papa Aarden spent would be enough to cover that up. Jittery Jasper was more than just a nickname. It was a persona earned by years of paranoia and sudden bursts of outrage. At best, Jasper would outlast the bloodbath, at worst, he would be the first one dead. Gold medals weren’t going to change that. The Olympics were games, not The Games. There was no life-or-death situation; no man-made horrors to put your life on the line against; and even then, Jasper couldn’t control himself. Most of the people in the Career districts dubbed it a fluke; three lucky shots to win him the gold. But Jasper heard the whispers; he wasn’t the best killer, or the most athletic boy in Panem, but archery was something they wouldn’t take away from him. “Stay in the house.” The words of his sister echoed through his mind as he used his hands to turn his body and lift himself off the mattress. “Don’t do anything stupid.” The words of his father bounced through his brain far more angrily. Filled with such poison and hate, Jasper tossed on a pair of shorts and a jacket, and made his way through the hallways of his family’s mansion. He trotted his way to the armory, to grab his bow, and as he made he way to the front door, thunder boomed throughout the district. Rain began to fall from the sky slowly, but Jasper had decided he needed to get out; needed to keep himself busy. The mud began to stick between his toes; he looked down and laughed. “I forgot shoes.” He marched forward, weaving between the trees into a clearing in which both he and his sister used often for private training. A clearing that would certainly be less frequented when Jade had finally transitioned into the Julian’s gym. This spot was going to be his, and his alone. He grabbed an arrow from his quiver, the rain was weighing it down, but it had no effect on his shot. Bullseye. He turned to another target and fired. Bullseye. Bullseye. Bullseye. Jasper smiled, nodding to himself. He didn’t need a bunch of Careers to train with, he didn’t need his father’s money; he didn’t even need Jade. He loved his sister, but he would only keep her from moving on. He wasn’t going to be deadweight. All Jasper wanted, all Jasper needed, was to be alone in the rain. And the shirt on your back doesn't keep out the chill |