Post by hasselhoff on Aug 6, 2010 0:42:10 GMT -5
Character Name: Lovino Vargas
Gender: Man. MAN.
Country: Hails from Southern Italy, specifically Sicily.
Age: Sixteen.
Student or Teacher?: Student.
Grade: 10.
Status: Guido. Yeah, the kinds on Jersey Shore. Except sexier.
Character information
Likes: Tomatoes, the pope, Italian food, pizza, pasta, farming, vegetables, horror movies, sexy women, Italian women, tanning, the beach, working out, expensive clothes, being a guido, being sexy, mafia fiction/movies, guns, sunglasses
Dislikes: Sluts, whores, homosexuals, pedophiles, beastiality, heroes, Americans, foreign food, art, idiots, romance movies, romance, goth kids, prep kids, jock kids, nerd kids, kids, everyone, the world, politics, other religions besides catholicism, POTATOES
Skills: Cooking, farming, maintaining plants, shooting guns, having the largest database of insults in English and Italian on the planet, picking fights, crying over stupid shit
Ambitions: Become more popular than his brother by use of creating a new farming technique that revolutionizes the world. Also, having 50 pairs of designer sunglasses.
Habits/Mannerism: A constant crybaby, but mostly over really stupid things like failing tests or being embarrassed. He cusses pretty much every other word, as well. Other than that... he also HATES having the large curl sticking from his hair touched. Basically, he might punch you in the nose if you try and touch it.
Past of the character (Hows life outside school?):
Lovino Vargas hasn't always been the asshole next door. He hasn't always been the cruel, overprotective big brother, or a pope-humping catholic. There was a time when Lovino Vargas was absolutely happy. There have been times when he's smiled and laughed with everyone.
...For five years of his life, the first five, Lovino was the happiest child he could be.
He played in the dirt, liked helping his parents in the garden, ran amuck in the fields of tomatoes and grapes and every vegetable the farms next to his house offered. From the moment he could walk he was always outside in the sun, fat, round cheeks reddened by sun and tanned by the next day when it repeated. His younger brother, Feliciano, was tugged into this when he could walk, only a year younger than Lovino. At two, three, four, five, life passed with senseless happiness.
At four, Feliciano Vargas picked up a piece of chalk and forever changed Lovino's life.
He was pinned an artist. A prodigy. It was always Feliciano being bought new clothes to show off his beautiful art while Lovino tore his jeans playing in the fields still, alone. A pocket of bitter hatred appeared in Lovino's heart as he watched his beloved grandfather begin teaching Feliciano how to paint, draw, sketch the moon and stars and birds. Lovino would plant things, watch sunflowers and tomato plants grow and thrive, take care of them in his own corner of a garden. He alone, at six, seven, eight, nine, tended to a garden by himself, his father and mother too busy taking Feliciano to North Italy constantly to show him off.
One day they left and never came back.
Lovino couldn't hate his brother. He hated himself, his parents, his grandfather and everyone in Northern Italy. At ten he was sent to a boarding school where his pain turned to delinquency. He got into fights, slacked in school, stayed up for days and never wrote a letter to his family.
At thirteen he found out about an exchange program. Eager to end his Hellish days in his home country, already knowing most of the basics of English due to extensive classes in his boarding school, his parents only signed the papers for his escape. Lovino found out Feliciano was being sent to America to. The same school. The same routine.
In America, freshman year, he did find his own family. It was hard letting people in, but after he applied for work at a restaurant he managed to find something like friends. Only a few people. And he was still abusive in his words, uncertain in his actions and feelings. Getting too close meant more pain. And he just had a bad vocabulary. But he is... tolerable, if you crack that angry exterior. Underneath is a soft crybaby with a fondness for swearing, but nothing like the cruel great white shark which he tries to appear.
He's more of a. Dolphin.
Roleplay Sample (Show us how you play):
Feliciano kept looking at him so hard. He felt his cheeks heating, as he tried to ignore it, spearing his fork into the pasta, twirling and dipping, taking slow bites and so painfully aware of his brother's eyes on him. What the hell was he doing?
Green eyes lifted briefly to meet his brother's, and he heard the crinkle of bread crust, and his lip twitched. The fucking hell. Quickly looking back to his food, now fully suspicious that something was going on, he downed more of his wine, feeling his entire face going red. Fuck! Now he looked stupid. Most of the countries he knew blushed a pretty pink on the edges, including his brother, and yet he had to be cursed with a horrible type of embarrassment that showed all over his face, tomato red, and he was sure the sauce he was shoveling in with his pasta matched his face. Why was he /looking/ at him like that.
Was this some ploy to get him into bed? Was Feliciano going to just suddenly say, 'oh, by the way brother, I brought Ludwig here, and we thought we could have a threesome!!' because NO amount of wine would make Romano agree to that, and he wasn't sure Feliciano would even ask that, he couldn't be that stupid. But he didn't say anything, just ate faster, trying to distract himself.
Ooc information
Name/Nickname: Frederic
Timezone: GMT-8
Msn/IM (if people want to contact you, for rp or just chatting): No thanks, please ask. (: