Post by gavrochethenardier on Apr 26, 2013 20:16:56 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: Gavroche Thenardier NICKNAMES: Gav HERITAGE: French AGE: 11 GROUP: Citizen CANON: Yes PLAYBY: Daniel Huttlestone ----- PERSONALITY: The word fear is not familiar to Gavroche Thenardier. Brave, bold and brash, Gavroche often feels exhilaration in more dangerous situations. One might say he’s a bit of an adrenaline junkie. His brash nature is coupled with a youthful confidence, and Gavroche most definitely believes in himself. He doesn’t let his age affect him in any way- he’s not afraid to stand up to adults, or even the Les Amis. He has the mindset of an adult half the time, and having lived for so long on the streets, he feels as if he may as well be. Sarcastic and snarky, Gavroche loves to sass other people out, and loves it when he saves everyone else’s backsides. He loves having one up on his friends, but loves them very dearly all he same. Fearless, brash and cocky, Gavroche is a perfect representation of the urchins that crawl through the streets of Paris. Gavroche is very loyal, and while he may not seem the most compassionate person around, he cares deeply for those around him, and is known to be very self-sacrificing if it means that others are well-off. Very protective over those he cares about, Gavroche is willing to give up his food or mwans of staying warm to someone else, and has even stolen from Montparnasse to help someone out. He’s also rather clever, and has shown the ability to be a rather crafty ‘criminal’. He does find some joy in helping the Patron-Minette when they call upon him, but at the same time, he’s incredibly attached to the Les Amis. He loves them all dearly, even if he does not show it often, and has a loyalty to them that will never die. One can never be sure if Gavroche is telling a truth or a lie. With his tongue in his cheek and a bucket-load of charisma to get him by, Gavroche has adapted easily to life on the streets, and wouldn’t have it any other way. APPEARANCE: Gavroche is a picture-perfect representation of the streets he lives in. Dirty, scrawny and pale-faced, Gavroche looks like a typical street urchin. His sandy blond hair is riddled with dirt and grime, and his face is smudged all over with filth and substances people would rather not think about. His face is pale, and he stands quite small against the older men and woman that he darts between in the city. While skinny and somewhat malnutritioned, Gavroche is agile and quick, and has often used his quick legs to get him out of trouble more than once. His eyes stand out from the rest of his appearance. Large, round and bright-blue, his eyes are alive and alert, flicking here and there as he takes in everything around him. He’s rather cute, despite his circumstances. He tries to dress quite nicely, but really, what can a street urchin do? GOALS: To make sure that everyone around him is better off. Gavroche may not seem like the compassionate, caring type with all of his snark, but Gavroche has a deep love for the people like him. Whether it be finding food for two young boys or giving a freezing girl his shawl, Gavroche wants to do what he can to make their living situations better, even if for a day. HISTORY: Gavroche has never known a loving family. The Thenardiers were the perfect example of a dysfunctional family, and this all came down on Gavroche. His father was far more interested in money-making, and his mother only ever loved her daughters. Gavroche was forgotten by his family, and in a way, never really truly counted. He chose the name Gavroche for himself, an he can’t even recall if his parents gave him a real name. Not that he really minded. Gavroche had learnt to look after himself, and grew more and more independent each day. On the day his parents sent him to live on the streets because ‘it would be a better life for him’, Gavroche secretly revelled in joy, excited to be looking after himself. Gavroche adapted to the streets quickly, adopting the city as his ‘mother’. He felt that the streets loved him more than his own mother ever had, and he loved them more than he had loved anything else. Life was hard, but it was easier than being neglected. He was in charge of his own food, his own clothes and his own wellbeing, and that comforted him. He grew up on the streets, and adopted the natural attitude of a street gamin. He took a home inside the massive elephant statue, quite happy with having shelter for the nights. He gathered a group of friends, becoming their de facto leader. This little group of gamins were renowned across Paris for causing trouble. Gavroche was often hired by Montparnasse to help with the Patron-Minette’s crimes. Even then, Gavroche’s father never paid attention to him. Now mixed into the criminal world, Gavroche was quite aware that his life was going to become difficult. But he didn’t mind. At least it was interesting. Once, he took in his younger brothers much by chance. Gavroche was unaware of their connection to him, but he accepted them nonetheless. When the disappeared, a part of Gavroche died. It wasn’t too long after that until he found the Les Amis. He immediately took to the group of young men, and wished to join their rallies. He looks up to them all, and even recognises his sister in their midst. The whole idea of Revolution excites him. It’s just a shame that he doesn’t quite understand the danger of it. ----- ALIAS: Liv AGE: 15 GENDER: Female OTHER CHARACTERS: None HOW DID YOU FIND US: Through your Affiliation with ‘Nightmare Carousel’ <3 ROLEPLAY SAMPLE: (From ‘Nightmare Carousel’) Jen stared at him for a moment. He was quite tall, until she remembered that she was quite small. She gave him a weak smile, nodding as he said that it was fine. It was as if he didn’t want to talk. Cold. That was the word that she’d used to describe him. His face was devoid of emotion, like a statue. She wasn’t even sure if she found it strange. Most people had the hint of a smile or a frown, or at least some sort of emotion floating in their eyes. But he didn’t. He was slate-faced and that was it. ”I, I haven’t hurt you or anything, have I?” She swallowed, looking him up and down. She couldn’t have already hurt someone accidentally already. That wasn’t a good place to start. She watched as he ran his fingers through his hair, slightly apprehensive as to what he might say. ”Well, He began, and Jen tensed. It didn’t sound promising. ”I think… Well, you’ve passed away.” The words hit her so quickly that she wasn’t even sure if he had said them. She stared at him for a moment, shock crawling over her skin. Dead? She couldn’t be dead. She was with her family a moment ago! How could she be dead? She was so young! ”I’m d-dead?” She spluttered, staring at him with bewilderment. ”But… I’m standing here, now, in front of you!” Dead! There was no way she was dead. Death was empty, a void that came for everyone at the end. It couldn’t be like this- as bright and solid as real life. This had to be an illusion, a trick on her unconscious mind. Not death. What was happening? ”I’m sorry. This is the afterlife.” Jen felt as if her knees were about to give way. The afterlife? This was what was waiting for them? A small town, with a library? How could this possibly be ‘it’? Where was the grand gates to heaven, or the hole to hell? Where was everything everyone had ever talked about? Why was it this? Surely, it was good to know that she could now read every book ever, but it still astounded her. ”The afterlife?” She said with much difficulty, not believing her own words. ”What is this then?” She swallowed, looking around with an expression of shock on her face. ”Why do I have wings?” She jabbed a thumb to her back. ”It… it doesn’t make any sense!” She scoffed, laughing nervously. ”I don’t understand.” Her voice cracked as she looked up at him. This man was the only person here with her. Was he it? Was he the only other thing in the afterlife? Was she going to be alone here, with him, forever? Or were there others like her? People who were lost and alone, and presumably now, dead. All of it was making her head hurt. And the shirt on your back doesn't keep out the chill |
