Post by rod on Sept 15, 2012 21:02:13 GMT -5
Roderich Amadeus Edelstein
Name:[/font][/size][/b][/u] Roderich Edelstein[/font]
Nickname:[/font][/size][/b][/u] Anything aside from 'Roderich' will result in glaring.[/font]
Nationality:[/font][/size][/b][/u] Pariter [Austria][/font]
Gender:[/font][/size][/b][/u] Male[/font]
Age:[/font][/size][/b][/u] 24[/font]
Social Rank:[/font][/size][/b][/u] Feigns Nobility; actually lower class[/font]
Occupation:[/font][/size][/b][/u] Musician; Court Composer[/font]
Hair Color:[/font][/size][/b][/u] Brown[/font]
Eye Color:[/font][/size][/b][/u] Violet[/font]
Weight:[/font][/size][/b][/u] 159 lbs[/font]
Height:[/font][/size][/b][/u] 5'9"[/font]
Special Features:[/font][/size][/b][/u] A flyaway curl of hair, and a mole upon his face[/font]
Likes:[/font][/size][/b][/u]
Dislikes:[/font][/size][/b][/u]
Strengths:[/font][/size][/b][/u]
Weaknesses:[/font][/size][/b][/u]
Navigation // Roderich gets lost in his own city. In his own neighborhood. In his own house. He has absolutely no ability to navigate himself to any location without the likelihood of becoming lost along the way. His brain just cannot compute direction.
Social Interaction // Roderich's skill set is limited when it comes to other people. He prefers the company of a piano or canvas. Creation is easier than socialization. Much of the time Rod's brain would rather be doing one over the other.
Stamina // He doesn't have any staying power when it comes to spending a long time at tasks outside of his playing. Roderich will grow quickly tired, with sudden exhaustion, and needs recovery time before he will start again.
Health // His health has always been poor, ever since childhood. He's prone to catching colds, or becoming sick, even when others around him are in good condition. Roderich's poor constitution is likely a result of his mother's overbearing presence in his formative years.[/ul][/color][/font]
Dreams:[/font][/size][/b][/u]
Fears:[/font][/size][/b][/u]
Personality:[/font][/size][/b][/u] Roderich is a man living in a state of denial. He has barely a cent to his name, yet lives as though he had more wealth and luxury at his disposal than the Royals of his kingdom. This likely comes from the ties of his blood to nobility, despite the fact that his family is no longer within that social circle from a few generations back. Roderich still behaves as a high-ranking member of Court of days long past; when men were refined, movements were as elegantly fluid as the scratch of a quill upon parchment, and jewels sparkled endlessly off crystal glasses in brilliant candlelight. This legacy is his foundation, so Roderich honors it even if it is no longer his domain.
The general opinion of others is that this false aristocrat is a cold person. His demeanor is of detachment, aloof to his surroundings enough that he seems a spectator rather than a participant in his environment. He tends to be dismissive in social interactions; if he is not representing himself as a demanding young master expecting to get his way when it comes to things that he wants. Roderich makes no apology for this flaw in his character. As he sees it, there is not enough time in the day for him to put on false airs. If people are turned off to him because he lacks a cheerful and carefree manner, then Roderich suffers no loss for parted company.
This is because it is more comfortable for Roderich to internalize his thoughts and emotions. He feels it best to maintain an outward appearance of being remote from others as a defense mechanism. Roderich knows that he is more physically vulnerable than others, and for that reason he does everything he can to protect the inner core of himself from harm. Buried inside of him is a heart capable of intense passion, black anger, and perhaps more than a touch of mad genius. There is a risk to having these parts of himself exposed in their raw form. When he slips up, these aspects of the man can be glimpsed easily enough. So Roderich chooses to channel them into outlets that can vent the pressure built up inside of him.
He was always gifted with musical and artistic talent. This is just as deeply entrenched in his veins as that noble blood. From his youngest years, Roderich was a prodigy with talents that were encouraged through his mother, and he became dedicated to these instead of seeking a more natural childhood of friendships, outdoor play or impossible dreams. These are the only method of expression that Roderich trusts. He would prefer to spend all of his time at a piano.
There have been many occasions where Roderich has locked himself away, taking no breaks even to eat or drink, pounding away endlessly at ivory keys at all hours. Or he might walk out of his house in the dead of winter in nothing except his pajamas and a violin in hand, just to 'see if the cold might inspire him'. None of this has helped with the impression of his madness.
Roderich is highly dependent on others for this reason. It is too easy for him to get caught up or distracted by the endless operation of his mind. He is a slow piano sonnet on the outside, while a frenzied violin within. This is why Roderich tends to lean upon those that he knows for support. It causes him to have a terrible sense of direction, and he might just wander for hours in the dark without someone to steer him right. He's just too proud to ask for assistance. This forces Roderich to rely on random acts of charity.
His pride is very obvious. He carries himself like a King even while wearing tailored jackets that are long faded, frayed or even patched. Roderich does not acknowledge those who do not engage him with respect; in instances where someone becomes vulgar or rude in his presence, his eyes will glaze momentarily before passing right through the other individual. He has a talent for ignoring things right in front of him -- people included. And Roderich has a tendency to abruptly leave in the middle of a conversation without any excuse, pulled away by snatches of a song only he can hear.
Those that seek a friendship out of Roderich must learn to tolerate his eccentric behavior. And those who do remain for more than a passing acquaintance are often rewarded with gifts of self created by Roderich; song, art, or even a rare smile.
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History:[/font][/size][/b][/u] The Edelsteins were a family that were long favored in the Royal Courts, an established family of the Noble ranks that enjoyed a fruitful life amongst the aristrocracy. Until unknown misdeeds of Roderich's grandfather -- a Knight in Pariter -- caused a scandal that drove the Edelstein out of favor with the Royals of the time, and consequently the Nobles as well. Shunned, their fortunes quickly followed as the luxurious life they'd been living fell apart. Unable to maintain the family manor that had been theirs since the early days of Pariter, Roderich's grandfather was forced to move them into the city, to live amongst the everyday citizens of the land.
Roderich was just a small child at the time. His mother, having married into the Edelstein family from another bloodline of Nobles, was obsessed with the idea of trying to raise him like he were still a member of nobility, believing that there might be some way that their disgrace would pass, and the family would be embraced again in the Courts. When this became a less likely result, she became focused on fostering Roderich's talents as a prodigy in music. Playing music pleased Roderich, and so he found nothing unusual with traveling around to play for others, or constantly having an instrument put into his hands. This was his normalcy. Anything outside of this seemed unfamiliar.
He took ill later in his childhood. The sickness was near fatal. Yet Roderich did recover, though it made his mother prone to panic whenever the boy even sneezed. This started a cycle that left Roderich something of a hypochondriac. He was spoiled, learning nothing of how to function on his own indepedently, and became heavily reliant on his family. When his mother eventually passed, Roderich had difficulty making the adjustment to having just his father around since the man was less keen to spoiling him.
His father encouraged Roderich to seek out professions that might help the young man learn how to take care of himself. Earn a living like other people without relying on just music. Roderich tried to be a tailor; the first time he pricked his finger with a needle, he freaked out. He tried to be a farmhand; that failed fantastically before it even started. Shopkeeper's Assistant; couldn't lift half of the items to stock. Town Crier; too much walking. Mortician's Helper; this he somewhat liked but there was too much dirt and he refused to use a shovel. It became readily apparent that Roderich wasn't suited to anything else except music.
To make the most of this, Roderich's father convinced one of his co-workers to act as a manager for the musician. This began the routine of Roderich touring around through the Courts, playing in the different Kingdoms to earn his living. Traveling around to other places didn't please Roderich much; he was comfortable in his home, and the labor of having to travel around exhausted him. He did, however, manage to catch the attention of one of the low-ranking members of Pariter Castle. Roderich just recently earned himself a position as one of the Court musicians, used for the whims of the Royals and other Nobles in circumstances where music is required. It's not the most glamorous job, but it is keeping a roof over Roderich's head right now when nothing else is.
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Additional Information:[/font][/size][/b][/u] For the right amount of money -- like the cost of his rent -- Roderich will play for your party, provided that you don't expect him to be sociable.[/font]
Roleplay Sample:[/font][/size][/b][/u]
The room that they had given Roderich to prepare before his performance was perfectly silent. It was one of the stipulations that he'd given upon his agreement to make this private performance for the hosts that had hired him for their party. A silent room, no disturbances -- the lack of sound that was the precursor to music; an anticipatory energy of the noiseless air, expanding until the first note would strike. Roderich sat stiffly in the deep cushions of the armchair they had provided. Spidery fingers rested in slight curves upon the arms of his seat, poised even now as they soon would be hovering above ivory and ebony keys.
Behind him, the door opened; shut. His manager's intrusion was the signal, as ever, that it was nearly time. Roderich let violet eyes open from where he'd been sitting in a peaceful state, the corners of his mouth tugging down in the smallest display of his disapproval of the venue. It wasn't that the money wasn't adequate -- he'd live comfortably for a few months on the pay that he'd receive tonight -- but there was something altogether superficial about the experience. His impression of the hosts was that they were not even appreciative of music. They just wanted some background noise. And that cheapened it for him. "Can't we simply refuse and leave? I already find this tiresome."
"The money is important," His manager informed him with the usual thinly veiled patience for Roderich's diva behavior, "and if you want to afford proper transportation home, you'll give them a performance."
Roderich's face soured, delicate features twisting briefly in what he would deny as a pout. He sighed, pressing air from deep in his lungs, and tightened his fingers on the arms of his chair. His mouth opened, forehead marred with a scowl as he prepared another protest that might get him out of this. There just wasn't anything that he could supply. One set of fingers fanned as Roderich made a silent gesture. Arguing would just be a waste of his breath. "Then let us get it over with."
The manager nodded. It was the usual routine. He crossed behind Roderich's chair, triggering the metronome that went everywhere the musician did. A soft, steady click began to tick in the air with clockwork precision. Roderich shut his eyes. His ears tuned to that noise, with its faultless rhythm, becoming absorbed in that endless ticking, until Roderich felt his pulse slow and his heartbeat align itself with that sound. Once his body itself was attuned then it was time. The musician pushed up gracefully to his feet in one fluid motion, arm sweeping up with a gesture that ruffled the lace of his cuff. "I'm ready. Let us begin the performance."
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Alias:[/font][/size][/b][/u] Hat[/font]
Age:[/font][/size][/b][/u] 31[/font]
Experience:[/font][/size][/b][/u] 17+ years[/font]
Additional Information:[/font][/size][/b][/u] I got nothing.[/font]
Credits:
[/font]Application Code made by B and C. Lyrics by Temposhark, song “Don’t Mess With Me”[/font][/center]
