Post by Ayu on Sept 2, 2009 22:00:13 GMT -5
[/font][/font][/size][/size]Introducing…
Viktor Chetsverg
Виктор четверг!
Please Allow Me To Introduce Myself…[/blockquote][/center]
Name: Viktor Chetsverg
Nicknames: Viki (only from my sister)
Age: 16
Gender: Very definitely male
Where you stand?: Handsome Eyes, just a mere follower (pfff)
Play by: Bartek Borowiec
Nicknames: Viki (only from my sister)
Age: 16
Gender: Very definitely male
Where you stand?: Handsome Eyes, just a mere follower (pfff)
Play by: Bartek Borowiec
I'm a man of wealth and taste...
Appearance: Slim rather than skinny, tall and slender, Viktor knows he looks pretty damn good. His grey-green eyes, which change from hard to soft, deep to shallow, depending on who they’re looking at, are set deep in a pale face, above sharp, high cheekbones and a deceptively warm smile. The epitome of a beautiful man.
His hair is long, wavy, shiny and oh so smooth. It hangs in a fall of auburn curls down to the middle of his back when loose, but more often it’s swept back into a flowing ponytail, leaving a few locks to tumble down, framing his handsome face perfectly.
The school uniform fits Viktor’s aristocratic style well, although, of course, he makes a few adjustments. Only subtle ones, nothing too obvious, nothing too far against the rules; a few buttons undone here, a pair of silver cufflinks there, higher heels on his shoes. In his free time, he still wears a white shirt and black trousers, but his shirt is often left unbuttoned to the base of his ribs, revealing the long silver and ruby pendant he always wears, along with his toned chest. Of course, it’s not to attract the opposite sex (or the same sex; Viktor is without a shadow of a doubt bisexual), it is merely, as he says, that it would be a crime to hide away such beauty from the world.
Personality: Arrogant is not a word Viktor uses of himself. He much prefers ‘aristocratic self-assurance’. And in his opinion, which seems to be backed up by most of the rest of the world’s, he’s fully justified. He’s not in the least bit shy, but not something as vulgar as extroverted, either. He’s…Viktor.
To clarify, he won’t babble on at length about his feelings, his problems or himself. He may drop in the occasional mention of his own intelligence, lineage or looks in passing, but more likely he will simply allow his charm to wash over you. He will ask after you, tell you what a striking earring that is, discuss with you philosophy, talk about the gods and the heavens and the way it all began. He will help you with your homework, and if it’s wrong, well, he didn’t have to help you.
He’s rarely unkind or unreasonable without just cause. He doesn’t have to be. He doesn’t blindly follow the herd. He doesn’t have to. He’s confident in himself, unshakeably so. It takes a lot to get him angry, because it takes a lot to hurt him.
He would define himself as bisexual, tending to gay, and as an artist, a philosopher, a man of the world. He paints, he acts, he sculpts, he writes, he reads…he is the very model of a modern gentleman.
That’s Viktor.
But the Viktor you see is only half of the real Viktor Chetsverg. Because no man can be that perfect, even him, and the throne in his head is twice as shaky as his throne in life. Always, he’s watching for his own mistakes. Always, forever, he tortures himself for not being perfect. Always, behind the smile, he weeps. Always, below the charming mask, he’s human.
Likes:
Dislikes:
Dreams: To surpass his family, to become the most famed artist in Russian history, to be loved; in short, to be, to live, to win.
Fears:
His hair is long, wavy, shiny and oh so smooth. It hangs in a fall of auburn curls down to the middle of his back when loose, but more often it’s swept back into a flowing ponytail, leaving a few locks to tumble down, framing his handsome face perfectly.
The school uniform fits Viktor’s aristocratic style well, although, of course, he makes a few adjustments. Only subtle ones, nothing too obvious, nothing too far against the rules; a few buttons undone here, a pair of silver cufflinks there, higher heels on his shoes. In his free time, he still wears a white shirt and black trousers, but his shirt is often left unbuttoned to the base of his ribs, revealing the long silver and ruby pendant he always wears, along with his toned chest. Of course, it’s not to attract the opposite sex (or the same sex; Viktor is without a shadow of a doubt bisexual), it is merely, as he says, that it would be a crime to hide away such beauty from the world.
Personality: Arrogant is not a word Viktor uses of himself. He much prefers ‘aristocratic self-assurance’. And in his opinion, which seems to be backed up by most of the rest of the world’s, he’s fully justified. He’s not in the least bit shy, but not something as vulgar as extroverted, either. He’s…Viktor.
To clarify, he won’t babble on at length about his feelings, his problems or himself. He may drop in the occasional mention of his own intelligence, lineage or looks in passing, but more likely he will simply allow his charm to wash over you. He will ask after you, tell you what a striking earring that is, discuss with you philosophy, talk about the gods and the heavens and the way it all began. He will help you with your homework, and if it’s wrong, well, he didn’t have to help you.
He’s rarely unkind or unreasonable without just cause. He doesn’t have to be. He doesn’t blindly follow the herd. He doesn’t have to. He’s confident in himself, unshakeably so. It takes a lot to get him angry, because it takes a lot to hurt him.
He would define himself as bisexual, tending to gay, and as an artist, a philosopher, a man of the world. He paints, he acts, he sculpts, he writes, he reads…he is the very model of a modern gentleman.
That’s Viktor.
But the Viktor you see is only half of the real Viktor Chetsverg. Because no man can be that perfect, even him, and the throne in his head is twice as shaky as his throne in life. Always, he’s watching for his own mistakes. Always, forever, he tortures himself for not being perfect. Always, behind the smile, he weeps. Always, below the charming mask, he’s human.
Likes:
- Beauty
- Painting
- Himself
- Looking good
- Being looked up to and admired
- Making new friends
- Heights
- The art of Rene Magritte
- Acting
- Reading
- Silk. And silver.
- REAL coffee
Dislikes:
- Being told he’s nothing
- People ignoring him
- Herbal tea
- Not living up to expectations
- Doing worst at anything
- Maths
- Being made to do things
- Destruction
Dreams: To surpass his family, to become the most famed artist in Russian history, to be loved; in short, to be, to live, to win.
Fears:
- Failure
- Losing his looks
- Having to leave Florence
- Losing who he has become
- Being forgotten
- Being alone
- Small spaces
I've been around for a long, long year...
History: His mother is descended from the Tsars, his father is one of the richest men in Russia, his sister married well and is at the peak of high society, his brother’s writing sells for millions. He’s got a lot to live up to. And he’s working hard.
He was born in St Petersburg, educated and raised as a refined and civilised child. He was taught Russian, English, French and Italian from an early age, taken to art exhibitions, taught to sketch and paint and sculpt beauty. His childhood was rich, varied, filled with life and colour.
And imprisoned.
He was trapped by the high expectations of his parents, by the achievements of his siblings, by the very surroundings he revelled in. He was like a bird in a gilded cage, beautiful, pampered, ultimately alone.
So he worked to improve his situation, to live up to the expectations of his family. He convinced his mother (he was always his mother’s favourite, her sweet, smart Viktor) to send him to Florence.
And he loved it. Because unlike at home, where he was the stupider one, the uglier one, the less talented one, he was at liberty to spread his cramped wings and show off his beautiful feathers. He became what his parents always hoped he could be. He became a true Chetsverg, a true descendant of the Tsars. And he became truly Viktor.
Family: Mother, Roksana Chetsverg; father, Pyotr Chetsverg; sister, Roza Voskhod, brother, Volya Chetsverg
Anything you'd like to add? THE REHABILITATION PROCESS BEGINS at 4 am
He was born in St Petersburg, educated and raised as a refined and civilised child. He was taught Russian, English, French and Italian from an early age, taken to art exhibitions, taught to sketch and paint and sculpt beauty. His childhood was rich, varied, filled with life and colour.
And imprisoned.
He was trapped by the high expectations of his parents, by the achievements of his siblings, by the very surroundings he revelled in. He was like a bird in a gilded cage, beautiful, pampered, ultimately alone.
So he worked to improve his situation, to live up to the expectations of his family. He convinced his mother (he was always his mother’s favourite, her sweet, smart Viktor) to send him to Florence.
And he loved it. Because unlike at home, where he was the stupider one, the uglier one, the less talented one, he was at liberty to spread his cramped wings and show off his beautiful feathers. He became what his parents always hoped he could be. He became a true Chetsverg, a true descendant of the Tsars. And he became truly Viktor.
Family: Mother, Roksana Chetsverg; father, Pyotr Chetsverg; sister, Roza Voskhod, brother, Volya Chetsverg
Anything you'd like to add? THE REHABILITATION PROCESS BEGINS at 4 am
Hope you guess my name...
Your name: Ayu (/Grampy Vampy)
Parent of which characters: Complicated question. Many, who have vaished into the ether an are being resurrected
Parent of which characters: Complicated question. Many, who have vaished into the ether an are being resurrected
But what's puzzling you is the nature of my game...
(c) Poe & Realms of Fantasia
Lyrics (c) Guns N' Roses
Do not steal.
It's bad.
