Post by nikkernoodle on Feb 4, 2011 0:33:53 GMT -8
Name: Joseph Breslin
Aliases: Clover
Age: 30
Build: Clover is about 4’ 11” with a skinny-almost-gangly build. He has a pair of larger-than-usual ears which, combined with his stature and glasses that make his eyes look a bit bigger than they actually are, gives him a youthful look. He’s a small cat, used to fitting into small spaces. The only place he’s got some muscle is in his arms, due to his climbing around.
Origin: Originally from Ireland, immigrated to the US at age five, spent 3 years in New York, 7 years in New Orleans, 10 years traveling around to the US, and 5 years in Felidae.
Occupation: Gambler, peddler, thief, creepy stalker and self-proclaimed Jack-of-all-trades.
Eyes: Green
Hair: Try as he might to slick it back, there is one resilient curl that hangs right in the middle of his forehead.
Scars: Clover has a peppering of small scratch-like scars that start from the back of the tip of his right shoulder, and get gradually less as they move towards his spine, and less as they move down towards his waist. It looks almost as if the back of his shoulder was an impact site, and the rest simply move outward from that. The scars stop right before his spine, and about half-way between his shoulder and his waist. He cannot see these without the aid of a mirror.
Fur/Markings: Clover is a Havanah Brown, so his fur is a reddish brown with no markings.
Attire: i6.photobucket.com/albums/y203/tsunamichan/bowler-hat.jpg
Essentially Clover’s outfit, except he wears glasses and doesn’t have a cane. He does, however, have a bowler hat.
Accessories: Clover is constantly cycling through accessories. One day he’ll have a pocket watch, the next a ring or a coin, perhaps a flask—anything of value. The only thing that stays consistently on his person is his weapon of choice and his hat.
WOC: Clover knows the basics of how to use a gun and carries one with him, but it’s unlikely that he could hit anything other than the broad side of a barn. He’d much rather use a switchblade, and is far more skilled with it than any gun.
Appearance: Clover has a face that, at worst, makes him look about ten years younger than he actually is. At best, even younger. Larger-than-average ears and green eyes made bigger by large round (mostly useless) glasses coupled with a wide, friendly smile make Clover look disarmingly childish. His build is small (he’s an inch under five foot) and almost gangly, though his arms are a bit more muscular than the rest of him, which makes him perfect for getting into and out of tight spaces. The only mar on his body is the scars on the back of his right shoulder and back, but he doesn’t seem them regularly and often forgets that they’re there.
Personality: According to Millon’s Subtypes, Clover is an odd mix of the fanatic and unprincipled narcissist. He is very self-absorbed and self-involved, and has a singular fascination with ----ing with people. And that’s meant completely in the mental area, and not at all in the physical. He finds other cats absolutely fascinating, watching them as if watching a movie, though forming no real emotional attachment to them. He considers them entertainment; put on this Earth to keep him from being bored out of his mind. Once he finds one that’s particularly interesting (to him,) he will latch on, though not in a physical way. He will spend a lot of time around that person, whether they’re aware of it or not. Sometimes he’ll step in to attempt to manipulate and mess with that person directly, sometimes he’ll do so indirectly, but either way it’s only for his own entertainment. As soon as he’s lost interest in that person, he’ll move on to the next one, and so on. He has no aversion to blood or violence; it’s all part of the show. He’d rather not be the cause of it, at least directly, but if situation calls for it, he won’t shrink from it.
Clover considers himself a very lucky guy. In his own mind, he was blessed with the most luck of anyone ever. Granted, Clover’s definition of “luck” doesn’t necessarily mean he always wins at cards or the dice always roll in his favor; in fact these moments of what others might call “bad luck” he only considers as stepping stones towards his good luck. Is he losing at cards? Well, obviously his good luck is causing that for a reason. His good luck will show itself sooner or later, maybe in a way that Clover can’t see now, but that he’ll definitely appreciate down the line.
With others, Clover is friendly and cheerful. He has no problem striking up a conversation with strangers or earning their trust with his friendliness. He will also lie if needed, but he rarely does. The truth is so much more interesting, and Clover just honestly does not care at all what people think of him. On that token, due to his lack of caring, he is also slow to anger, and rarely loses his temper. He is easily amused and entertained, and whenever someone does something he thinks is funny or amusing, he giggles.
Special skills: Clover has an affinity for climbing into high or tight places with ease, and he also has a talent for being light on his feet, moving quickly and stealthily. He is also rather skilled with a switchblade.
Weaknesses: Clover is highly superstitious. He will not do anything to endanger his own luck, and is terrified of others causing bad luck around him. Also, Clover has no loyalty, and doesn’t form any attachments to anyone. As a result, it’s incredibly rare that anyone forms any sort of lasting attachment to him. Though this can be seen as a strength in some cases, in others (especially in a time of need,) Clover might find himself very much alone when he needs help the most. He also does not have that much strength physically, other than just enough strength in his arms to lift himself up over a ledge or somesuch.
Fears: Bad luck
Likes: People that are entertaining, riddles, good luck, clovers, things he considers “lucky”
Dislikes: People that are boring, bad luck, people that bring about bad luck
History: We’ll make the beginning short, mostly because Clover doesn’t remember 90% of it, and what he does remember is in broad general brushstrokes of random color. He was born Joseph Breslin in Cork, Ireland. His family was moderately successful there, but not successful enough, and when he was five, his parents decided to move the entire family to the United States. They arrived at Ellis Island without much difficulty, and settled in Manhattan, New York. From there, things started going downhill fairly quickly for the Breslin family. It seemed that any enterprise his father put his money into failed spectacularly, and began drinking heavily out of depression. He began first beating his wife and, as his depression worsened, his children. Three years after arriving in America with little financial success, it was decided that the family would move down south to New Orleans, where it was said there were better opportunities. They ended up taking a boat down the Mississippi to get there, and on the way, all of the children caught typhoid fever. Clover was the only one that survived. Needless to say, things didn’t get too much better in New Orleans as the family fell deeper into debt. At the age of 11, Clover was hit by his father hard enough during a drunken rant that he went flying, his right shoulder slamming into a mirror and shattering it, his head knocking hard on the metal frame. When he woke up he was in the hospital with bandages covering his head and his shoulder, the doctor telling him he was very lucky to have survived falling through a window. He also discovered that he had little-to-no memory of who he was and where he was from, as well as of any emotional attachment he had to anyone. Nevertheless he was taken home by two people who called themselves his parents, and a month later, after several more weeks of the man coming home drunk, walked out the door and never looked back.
From there, Clover took up with a group of street urchins, stealing and using his own special brand of friendly charisma to keep himself fed. It was on the streets that he learned how to peddle even the most worthless of items, fight with a switchblade, and scurry up building walls and through windows with ease. At first his nickname was Irish, due to his leftover accent, however he wasn’t very fond of that nickname. Since he seemed to always be able to wriggle (sometimes literally) out of a sticky situation, he was also considered very lucky, and after some thought he decided that, if he was granted all this luck, he should have a name that reflected it. So he chose the name Clover, and it stuck. As he continued to live on the streets of New Orleans, Clover became fascinated with watching how other cats interacted with each other, entertained with how easily a word or an action here or there could completely destroy a relationship. He found entertainment in watching the lives of others, and found that he could influence the course of the relationships and events around them, sometimes just by being friendly. Clover worked to make himself look more trustworthy by saving up for a clean suit and large, round glasses, and his demeanor became much more friendly in general as he learned to manipulate others. He took the ease of which this came to him as a statement that, clearly, everyone was put for his own amusement, and for him to play with as he wished.
After causing massive amounts of mayhem within the group of urchins, Clover decided that there were bigger fish to fry outside of New Orleans, at around the age of 15 began traveling around America using any means necessary. Sometimes he walked, sometimes he hitch hiked a train, or a car, or a cart—he made his money the same way as before, by stealing and peddling. He also picked up another habit and way of making money: gambling. He’s become fairly decent at it, though he’s no card shark. Finally his wanderings lead him to Felidae, where he’s managed to find more than enough fascinating subjects to keep his interest. Said interest has currently wandered over towards one Mistofelees Quaxo. Originally, Mistofelees had only offered mild entertainment in the form of his amusing displays as a dealer, but it wasn’t until he witnessed Mistofelees being verbally brow-beaten by his uncle that he became interested in the duality of his personality: the confident dealer and the frightened, brow-beaten nephew. Since then, he’s started hanging out at the cardroom more regularly, either observing Mistofelees from across the room, but more recently just sitting at his table, playing cards even though he often loses, seeming to have no problem with his constant stem of what others might perceive as bad luck. He’s stopped living on the street since deciding to hang around Felidae a little longer (a decision that was made about four years ago,) though his residence constantly changes depending on who he’s watching. He’s since picked up a place near Mistofelees, making it easier for him to track the other cat and watch him. He still makes his money by stealing, peddling and gambling, but has also started occasionally taking odd jobs for any underground (or overground) with the right amount of cash.
Love Interest: None
Quotes: “Hee hee hee!”
Theme Song: “Just a Lucky So-and-So” – Ray Charles, “Stray Cat Strut” – Stray Cats
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Aliases: Clover
Age: 30
Build: Clover is about 4’ 11” with a skinny-almost-gangly build. He has a pair of larger-than-usual ears which, combined with his stature and glasses that make his eyes look a bit bigger than they actually are, gives him a youthful look. He’s a small cat, used to fitting into small spaces. The only place he’s got some muscle is in his arms, due to his climbing around.
Origin: Originally from Ireland, immigrated to the US at age five, spent 3 years in New York, 7 years in New Orleans, 10 years traveling around to the US, and 5 years in Felidae.
Occupation: Gambler, peddler, thief
Eyes: Green
Hair: Try as he might to slick it back, there is one resilient curl that hangs right in the middle of his forehead.
Scars: Clover has a peppering of small scratch-like scars that start from the back of the tip of his right shoulder, and get gradually less as they move towards his spine, and less as they move down towards his waist. It looks almost as if the back of his shoulder was an impact site, and the rest simply move outward from that. The scars stop right before his spine, and about half-way between his shoulder and his waist. He cannot see these without the aid of a mirror.
Fur/Markings: Clover is a Havanah Brown, so his fur is a reddish brown with no markings.
Attire: i6.photobucket.com/albums/y203/tsunamichan/bowler-hat.jpg
Essentially Clover’s outfit, except he wears glasses and doesn’t have a cane. He does, however, have a bowler hat.
Accessories: Clover is constantly cycling through accessories. One day he’ll have a pocket watch, the next a ring or a coin, perhaps a flask—anything of value. The only thing that stays consistently on his person is his weapon of choice and his hat.
WOC: Clover knows the basics of how to use a gun and carries one with him, but it’s unlikely that he could hit anything other than the broad side of a barn. He’d much rather use a switchblade, and is far more skilled with it than any gun.
Appearance: Clover has a face that, at worst, makes him look about ten years younger than he actually is. At best, even younger. Larger-than-average ears and green eyes made bigger by large round (mostly useless) glasses coupled with a wide, friendly smile make Clover look disarmingly childish. His build is small (he’s an inch under five foot) and almost gangly, though his arms are a bit more muscular than the rest of him, which makes him perfect for getting into and out of tight spaces. The only mar on his body is the scars on the back of his right shoulder and back, but he doesn’t seem them regularly and often forgets that they’re there.
Personality: According to Millon’s Subtypes, Clover is an odd mix of the fanatic and unprincipled narcissist. He is very self-absorbed and self-involved, and has a singular fascination with ----ing with people. And that’s meant completely in the mental area, and not at all in the physical. He finds other cats absolutely fascinating, watching them as if watching a movie, though forming no real emotional attachment to them. He considers them entertainment; put on this Earth to keep him from being bored out of his mind. Once he finds one that’s particularly interesting (to him,) he will latch on, though not in a physical way. He will spend a lot of time around that person, whether they’re aware of it or not. Sometimes he’ll step in to attempt to manipulate and mess with that person directly, sometimes he’ll do so indirectly, but either way it’s only for his own entertainment. As soon as he’s lost interest in that person, he’ll move on to the next one, and so on. He has no aversion to blood or violence; it’s all part of the show. He’d rather not be the cause of it, at least directly, but if situation calls for it, he won’t shrink from it.
Clover considers himself a very lucky guy. In his own mind, he was blessed with the most luck of anyone ever. Granted, Clover’s definition of “luck” doesn’t necessarily mean he always wins at cards or the dice always roll in his favor; in fact these moments of what others might call “bad luck” he only considers as stepping stones towards his good luck. Is he losing at cards? Well, obviously his good luck is causing that for a reason. His good luck will show itself sooner or later, maybe in a way that Clover can’t see now, but that he’ll definitely appreciate down the line.
With others, Clover is friendly and cheerful. He has no problem striking up a conversation with strangers or earning their trust with his friendliness. He will also lie if needed, but he rarely does. The truth is so much more interesting, and Clover just honestly does not care at all what people think of him. On that token, due to his lack of caring, he is also slow to anger, and rarely loses his temper. He is easily amused and entertained, and whenever someone does something he thinks is funny or amusing, he giggles.
Special skills: Clover has an affinity for climbing into high or tight places with ease, and he also has a talent for being light on his feet, moving quickly and stealthily. He is also rather skilled with a switchblade.
Weaknesses: Clover is highly superstitious. He will not do anything to endanger his own luck, and is terrified of others causing bad luck around him. Also, Clover has no loyalty, and doesn’t form any attachments to anyone. As a result, it’s incredibly rare that anyone forms any sort of lasting attachment to him. Though this can be seen as a strength in some cases, in others (especially in a time of need,) Clover might find himself very much alone when he needs help the most. He also does not have that much strength physically, other than just enough strength in his arms to lift himself up over a ledge or somesuch.
Fears: Bad luck
Likes: People that are entertaining, riddles, good luck, clovers, things he considers “lucky”
Dislikes: People that are boring, bad luck, people that bring about bad luck
History: We’ll make the beginning short, mostly because Clover doesn’t remember 90% of it, and what he does remember is in broad general brushstrokes of random color. He was born Joseph Breslin in Cork, Ireland. His family was moderately successful there, but not successful enough, and when he was five, his parents decided to move the entire family to the United States. They arrived at Ellis Island without much difficulty, and settled in Manhattan, New York. From there, things started going downhill fairly quickly for the Breslin family. It seemed that any enterprise his father put his money into failed spectacularly, and began drinking heavily out of depression. He began first beating his wife and, as his depression worsened, his children. Three years after arriving in America with little financial success, it was decided that the family would move down south to New Orleans, where it was said there were better opportunities. They ended up taking a boat down the Mississippi to get there, and on the way, all of the children caught typhoid fever. Clover was the only one that survived. Needless to say, things didn’t get too much better in New Orleans as the family fell deeper into debt. At the age of 11, Clover was hit by his father hard enough during a drunken rant that he went flying, his right shoulder slamming into a mirror and shattering it, his head knocking hard on the metal frame. When he woke up he was in the hospital with bandages covering his head and his shoulder, the doctor telling him he was very lucky to have survived falling through a window. He also discovered that he had little-to-no memory of who he was and where he was from, as well as of any emotional attachment he had to anyone. Nevertheless he was taken home by two people who called themselves his parents, and a month later, after several more weeks of the man coming home drunk, walked out the door and never looked back.
From there, Clover took up with a group of street urchins, stealing and using his own special brand of friendly charisma to keep himself fed. It was on the streets that he learned how to peddle even the most worthless of items, fight with a switchblade, and scurry up building walls and through windows with ease. At first his nickname was Irish, due to his leftover accent, however he wasn’t very fond of that nickname. Since he seemed to always be able to wriggle (sometimes literally) out of a sticky situation, he was also considered very lucky, and after some thought he decided that, if he was granted all this luck, he should have a name that reflected it. So he chose the name Clover, and it stuck. As he continued to live on the streets of New Orleans, Clover became fascinated with watching how other cats interacted with each other, entertained with how easily a word or an action here or there could completely destroy a relationship. He found entertainment in watching the lives of others, and found that he could influence the course of the relationships and events around them, sometimes just by being friendly. Clover worked to make himself look more trustworthy by saving up for a clean suit and large, round glasses, and his demeanor became much more friendly in general as he learned to manipulate others. He took the ease of which this came to him as a statement that, clearly, everyone was put for his own amusement, and for him to play with as he wished.
After causing massive amounts of mayhem within the group of urchins, Clover decided that there were bigger fish to fry outside of New Orleans, at around the age of 15 began traveling around America using any means necessary. Sometimes he walked, sometimes he hitch hiked a train, or a car, or a cart—he made his money the same way as before, by stealing and peddling. He also picked up another habit and way of making money: gambling. He’s become fairly decent at it, though he’s no card shark. Finally his wanderings lead him to Felidae, where he’s managed to find more than enough fascinating subjects to keep his interest. Said interest has currently wandered over towards one Mistofelees Quaxo. Originally, Mistofelees had only offered mild entertainment in the form of his amusing displays as a dealer, but it wasn’t until he witnessed Mistofelees being verbally brow-beaten by his uncle that he became interested in the duality of his personality: the confident dealer and the frightened, brow-beaten nephew. Since then, he’s started hanging out at the cardroom more regularly, either observing Mistofelees from across the room, but more recently just sitting at his table, playing cards even though he often loses, seeming to have no problem with his constant stem of what others might perceive as bad luck. He’s stopped living on the street since deciding to hang around Felidae a little longer (a decision that was made about four years ago,) though his residence constantly changes depending on who he’s watching. He’s since picked up a place near Mistofelees, making it easier for him to track the other cat and watch him. He still makes his money by stealing, peddling and gambling, but has also started occasionally taking odd jobs for any underground (or overground) with the right amount of cash.
Love Interest: None
Quotes: “Hee hee hee!”
Theme Song: “Just a Lucky So-and-So” – Ray Charles, “Stray Cat Strut” – Stray Cats
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