Post by Seiya on Feb 6, 2009 23:10:21 GMT -5
Cannon Or Original?: Original
Character Name: Basil Elizabeth Hakins
Aliases: Sometimes called Elizabeth for laughs.
Special Abilities: Noooooone.
Profession: A comic artist, though he still hasn't published any yet. He's more of an odd-jobs man now, as he still hasn't found some kind of permanent job yet.
Skills: Basil is pretty imaginative and a damn good artist to boot. He's also rather good at letting people step all over him, running away, dodging objects and fists, and apologizing excessively.
Weaknesses: Basil, unfortunately, is very meek and tends to flinch when people talk to him. He apologizes a lot, apparently thinking that everything is his fault, he is to blame, and heartily believes that he is worse than slime and that everything he writes is crap. Not to mention he really is physically frail and, as soon as all escape routes are cut off, can be snapped like a twig.
Special Note: Basil apparently stopped growing in high school and his voice still cracks like a teenager. He's very insecure about this. Surprisingly, despite the fact that he looks small and shivers like an old geezer a lot, he's rather athletic. As in, he can duck and dodge with great agility and zoom through forests with relative ease.
Age: 24 - freshly out of college, though it seems he still hasn't hit puberty somehow.
Gender: Male
Description: Basil calls to mind a mouse, with his wide, fearful hazel eyes and his hunched, timid posture. He's rather short for his age - still looks like a high school sophomore - and his skin is intriguingly pasty and damp, possibly because he sweats too much around intimidating people (and to him, everybody is intimidating). His hair, a dirty blond, looks as if he had never brushed it ever since he graduated from high school, and is slightly long for boys, curling up around his neck. He has an air of poverty around him, but that's probably because he smells. He is rather reminiscent of a hobo, even though he hasn't a hair on his chinny chin chin.
Clothing Style/Uniform: Basil wears a black beret, tilted slightly to the left, that covers most of his rather tangled hair. He wears a gray sweatshirt from college, even during the summer, and a simple white T-shirt underneath, both slightly damp from his disgusting sweat. His dark blue jeans are comfortably loose, but also slightly damp. He wears cheap sandals with twine that scratches between his toes. If he feels he needs to run, he'll take these off, as they'd hinder him. Since he feels he needs to run a lot, his feet are rather dirty (they also smell too).
Family: After graduating, Basil immediately looked for a job. He hasn't visited his parents much, partly because he doesn't want to go back begging for money, partly because he thinks they despise him. He has no siblings. It is theorized, because of his middle name, that he comes from a long line of English queens, though he has constantly said that filth like him couldn't be related to any sort of royalty, except, perhaps, the Queen of Scum.
Personality: Basil is a rather timid guy. He carries around a clipboard everywhere that he either draws on or hides behind. He seems to constantly think he will be hit, and even thinks he deserves it. His fear of pain is the fuel for his random flinching.
Basil seems to be over-critical of himself, apologizes exceedingly for any little offense he perceives he had made. If he bumps into someone, he'll apologize. If he gets mugged, he'll apologize. If people toss him in the lake to drown him and he lives instead, he apologizes. Any attempt made to make him feel better about himself will fail horribly, as he will insist upon being the slime of the earth, being the lowly cockroach, or something like that. He's like the scrawny right-hand man of a boss, constantly saying 'Yes, sir' and 'Okay, sir.' He has a natural sense of knowing what people want him to say and, of course, makes sure to say it.
Basil, because he can't function without someone else leading him, tends to latch onto the closest person and follow his/her every whim until he/she tells him to bugger off.
The only thing he will put up a fight for is his clipboard. He feels it's his own private thing and nobody should see it, partly because of said private-ness, partly because he would be extremely embarrassed as all his stuff on it would (apparently) suck.
Quirks: If it isn't obvious yet, an inferiority complex.
Likes: Basil likes everybody else, as he seems to find some kind of good trait in everybody and admires him or her for it.
Dislikes: He hates himself and everything he makes.
History: Basil didn't always think himself incompetent. His childhood was rather happy. Nothing major happened. He mostly doodled in class, and of course, wanted to draw comics. Stuff he drew and posted on the internet garnered mass approval. Yadda yadda yadda. He grew a comfortably big ego.
And of course, after college, when he was finally ready to get a job, he went up to a publisher who promptly told him his stuff was no good. Basil, after hearing nothing but praises, kinda took this badly and thus started his fall into an insecure mess. His publisher seemed willing to keep him around, but only if Basil took his 'suggestions' about changing his plots and characters, and he complied, rewriting the whole damn thing, changing his characters, and making it seem more "mainstream."
The publisher got arrested later on, as it seemed he was smuggling drugs. Basil was left without work, and though away from the publisher, his influence still held. Basil wandered around the streets, hunched over, hating how he was so pathetic and so on. He is still trying to publish a comic, but hasn't even drawn one page as he feels the notes on his clipboard are just stupid, childish ideas. They're really pretty good, but it's not like he knows.
Jobless, Basil started wandering around, hitchhiking, doing odd jobs for food and some semblance of a bed, the works.
Picture: Look at hiiim!
Roleplay Sample: He apologized for the fifteenth time for the trouble he caused her, messing up her car and making it smell and leaving dirt in such a nice car. She slammed the door and drove off, leaving him coughing in the smoke.
Basil clutched his grimy clipboard so hard his fingers hurt and looked around. The woman was kind enough to pick him up off the side of some road in the middle of nowhere, and only a few minutes later, he annoyed her so much he got kicked out. He was such an idiot. He probably deserved to walk into a forest and get mauled by a bear. Not that he'd want to get mauled by a bear, because that would be painful and he couldn't help but clasp onto life so selfishly.
Well, the comic artist continued his trek along the dirt road. He had absolutely no idea where he was, but it was obviously somewhere hardly frequented, judging by the dirt road and the dead roadkill littering the whole place. Maybe he should get a job cleaning roadkill off the road. It would be kinda ironic. Scum cleaning scum. Basil continued to walk, stepping over decaying animals, and passed the time by doodling, proclaiming his doodles awful, and throwing them away. He did this for god knows how long until finally, he walked right into something.
Basil, rubbing his head, immediately went into full-blown apology mode, ducking his head as an animal would show obedience to an alpha male and spouting off such nonsense like: "I'm so sorry! I should've watched where I was going! I must've dirtied your clean clothes! I'll clean them immediately! In fact, I can do your whole laundry! No charge! It's only fair!" The man looked up with wide, baleful eyes to realize that he had been talking to a wooden pole.
His eyes traveled further upwards until they reached a sign that stated proudly: "Whispering Rock." Then they spun to some people nearby, mostly kids, staring at the crazy man talking to a sign-post.
Basil hastily apologized to them for his idiotic blabbering and apologized once again as he asked for a place to stay and some food to eat. He also offered to do their laundry, not that their clothes were dirty of course, but just saying, since he'd need to pay off this wonderful favor, if they gave him this favor of course...
The children rolled their eyes and walked away. Basil took this as acceptance and scurried in to a parking lot and looked around for a person in charge of this fine establishment.
(Aw, doesn't he look like a bundle of joy...)
Character Name: Basil Elizabeth Hakins
Aliases: Sometimes called Elizabeth for laughs.
Special Abilities: Noooooone.
Profession: A comic artist, though he still hasn't published any yet. He's more of an odd-jobs man now, as he still hasn't found some kind of permanent job yet.
Skills: Basil is pretty imaginative and a damn good artist to boot. He's also rather good at letting people step all over him, running away, dodging objects and fists, and apologizing excessively.
Weaknesses: Basil, unfortunately, is very meek and tends to flinch when people talk to him. He apologizes a lot, apparently thinking that everything is his fault, he is to blame, and heartily believes that he is worse than slime and that everything he writes is crap. Not to mention he really is physically frail and, as soon as all escape routes are cut off, can be snapped like a twig.
Special Note: Basil apparently stopped growing in high school and his voice still cracks like a teenager. He's very insecure about this. Surprisingly, despite the fact that he looks small and shivers like an old geezer a lot, he's rather athletic. As in, he can duck and dodge with great agility and zoom through forests with relative ease.
Age: 24 - freshly out of college, though it seems he still hasn't hit puberty somehow.
Gender: Male
Description: Basil calls to mind a mouse, with his wide, fearful hazel eyes and his hunched, timid posture. He's rather short for his age - still looks like a high school sophomore - and his skin is intriguingly pasty and damp, possibly because he sweats too much around intimidating people (and to him, everybody is intimidating). His hair, a dirty blond, looks as if he had never brushed it ever since he graduated from high school, and is slightly long for boys, curling up around his neck. He has an air of poverty around him, but that's probably because he smells. He is rather reminiscent of a hobo, even though he hasn't a hair on his chinny chin chin.
Clothing Style/Uniform: Basil wears a black beret, tilted slightly to the left, that covers most of his rather tangled hair. He wears a gray sweatshirt from college, even during the summer, and a simple white T-shirt underneath, both slightly damp from his disgusting sweat. His dark blue jeans are comfortably loose, but also slightly damp. He wears cheap sandals with twine that scratches between his toes. If he feels he needs to run, he'll take these off, as they'd hinder him. Since he feels he needs to run a lot, his feet are rather dirty (they also smell too).
Family: After graduating, Basil immediately looked for a job. He hasn't visited his parents much, partly because he doesn't want to go back begging for money, partly because he thinks they despise him. He has no siblings. It is theorized, because of his middle name, that he comes from a long line of English queens, though he has constantly said that filth like him couldn't be related to any sort of royalty, except, perhaps, the Queen of Scum.
Personality: Basil is a rather timid guy. He carries around a clipboard everywhere that he either draws on or hides behind. He seems to constantly think he will be hit, and even thinks he deserves it. His fear of pain is the fuel for his random flinching.
Basil seems to be over-critical of himself, apologizes exceedingly for any little offense he perceives he had made. If he bumps into someone, he'll apologize. If he gets mugged, he'll apologize. If people toss him in the lake to drown him and he lives instead, he apologizes. Any attempt made to make him feel better about himself will fail horribly, as he will insist upon being the slime of the earth, being the lowly cockroach, or something like that. He's like the scrawny right-hand man of a boss, constantly saying 'Yes, sir' and 'Okay, sir.' He has a natural sense of knowing what people want him to say and, of course, makes sure to say it.
Basil, because he can't function without someone else leading him, tends to latch onto the closest person and follow his/her every whim until he/she tells him to bugger off.
The only thing he will put up a fight for is his clipboard. He feels it's his own private thing and nobody should see it, partly because of said private-ness, partly because he would be extremely embarrassed as all his stuff on it would (apparently) suck.
Quirks: If it isn't obvious yet, an inferiority complex.
Likes: Basil likes everybody else, as he seems to find some kind of good trait in everybody and admires him or her for it.
Dislikes: He hates himself and everything he makes.
History: Basil didn't always think himself incompetent. His childhood was rather happy. Nothing major happened. He mostly doodled in class, and of course, wanted to draw comics. Stuff he drew and posted on the internet garnered mass approval. Yadda yadda yadda. He grew a comfortably big ego.
And of course, after college, when he was finally ready to get a job, he went up to a publisher who promptly told him his stuff was no good. Basil, after hearing nothing but praises, kinda took this badly and thus started his fall into an insecure mess. His publisher seemed willing to keep him around, but only if Basil took his 'suggestions' about changing his plots and characters, and he complied, rewriting the whole damn thing, changing his characters, and making it seem more "mainstream."
The publisher got arrested later on, as it seemed he was smuggling drugs. Basil was left without work, and though away from the publisher, his influence still held. Basil wandered around the streets, hunched over, hating how he was so pathetic and so on. He is still trying to publish a comic, but hasn't even drawn one page as he feels the notes on his clipboard are just stupid, childish ideas. They're really pretty good, but it's not like he knows.
Jobless, Basil started wandering around, hitchhiking, doing odd jobs for food and some semblance of a bed, the works.
Picture: Look at hiiim!
Roleplay Sample: He apologized for the fifteenth time for the trouble he caused her, messing up her car and making it smell and leaving dirt in such a nice car. She slammed the door and drove off, leaving him coughing in the smoke.
Basil clutched his grimy clipboard so hard his fingers hurt and looked around. The woman was kind enough to pick him up off the side of some road in the middle of nowhere, and only a few minutes later, he annoyed her so much he got kicked out. He was such an idiot. He probably deserved to walk into a forest and get mauled by a bear. Not that he'd want to get mauled by a bear, because that would be painful and he couldn't help but clasp onto life so selfishly.
Well, the comic artist continued his trek along the dirt road. He had absolutely no idea where he was, but it was obviously somewhere hardly frequented, judging by the dirt road and the dead roadkill littering the whole place. Maybe he should get a job cleaning roadkill off the road. It would be kinda ironic. Scum cleaning scum. Basil continued to walk, stepping over decaying animals, and passed the time by doodling, proclaiming his doodles awful, and throwing them away. He did this for god knows how long until finally, he walked right into something.
Basil, rubbing his head, immediately went into full-blown apology mode, ducking his head as an animal would show obedience to an alpha male and spouting off such nonsense like: "I'm so sorry! I should've watched where I was going! I must've dirtied your clean clothes! I'll clean them immediately! In fact, I can do your whole laundry! No charge! It's only fair!" The man looked up with wide, baleful eyes to realize that he had been talking to a wooden pole.
His eyes traveled further upwards until they reached a sign that stated proudly: "Whispering Rock." Then they spun to some people nearby, mostly kids, staring at the crazy man talking to a sign-post.
Basil hastily apologized to them for his idiotic blabbering and apologized once again as he asked for a place to stay and some food to eat. He also offered to do their laundry, not that their clothes were dirty of course, but just saying, since he'd need to pay off this wonderful favor, if they gave him this favor of course...
The children rolled their eyes and walked away. Basil took this as acceptance and scurried in to a parking lot and looked around for a person in charge of this fine establishment.
(Aw, doesn't he look like a bundle of joy...)
