Post by Roderich Edelstein on Sept 15, 2012 16:04:43 GMT -5
Roderich Edelstein
FULL NAME HERE Roderich Edelstein
NICKNAMES Roderl, Rodl (His nickname corresponding with Austro-Bavarian diminutives, or “affectionate” shortenings.) Roddi, Specs
GENDER Male
AGE 15, almost 16.
GRADE Junior
ETHNICITY Austrian
SPECIALTY
Linguistic skills; He fluently communicates in many languages (and dialects thereof). Roderich’s charm and knowledge of psychology does wonders for his manipulation, deception, and negotiation skills. He can interrogate well due to his knowledge of psychological torture. Definitely a spy for converting and turning assets. Not out of place in high society.
He has knowledge of firearms because being raised travelling in third-world countries makes you aware of how to survive in the wild and defend yourself. Unfortunately Roderich’s prissy and hates going outside, so most people aren’t aware of the fact he isn’t useless completely outside. Also the HNaA, the Austrian Intelligence agency, gave him some basic training before sending him to the school.
YOUR CHARACTER'S LIKES
- Food. Roderich's very good at cooking, which isn’t a stretch because his mother is a bit of a foodie. He loves cooking and eating good food, and is a bit of a snob when eating food. He also likes sweet wines, or really new ones.
- Coffee. Melange, dark expresso, Roderich likes it good and not instant. His perfect day is sitting someplace warm with some sweets and coffee and listening to music.
- Saving money. Roderich’s family wasn’t the most penny-pinching so he turned out to be a little disgusted with those who spend their money frivolously.
- Things of refined quality. Which unfortunately contradicts his frugal nature. He manages to keep a balance by taking very, very good care of things he buys.
- Music. Roderich was taught himself the piano at a young age; however he was never comfortable with making a career of it. He would like to compose something one day, when he has the time. He can play several instruments. His favorite composers are Chopin, Schubert, and Beethoven. And Mahler, Brahms, and Mozart, of course.
- Nature. He likes big cities just fine, and spent time in the biggest cities of Europe while traveling with his mother, but his earliest memories are of the Alps and Lake Bodensee, something Roderich believes is one of the most breathtaking sights in the world.
- Cigarettes. Roderich grew up around people smoking and drinking wine. He's not exactly health conscious and smoking a cigarette once in a while helps calm him down when he's in a bad mood almost as well as playing the piano.
YOUR CHARACTER'S DISLIKES
- Boats. He gets sea sick and throws up. Also anything with tentacles frightens him. Especially octopuses.
- Rudeness, unless you suffer from something, Roderich thinks everyone should be putting their efforts into being calm and reserved. It’s a simple courtesy that society demands of you. Of course he has experiences with society being very wrong, but Roderich has always wanted to be someone considered first-rate.
- The outside. Roderich isn’t exactly a recluse, but it takes tremendous effort that’s not his own to convince him to venture outside. He prefers to stay clean and dry in comfort.
- Fritzi's pranks are an irritant. Roderich's not fond of negative attention (see below) and be on the receiving end of them is not pleasant nor amusing.
- Being embarrassed or scrutinized. Though he doesn't really show it because of his aloof exterior, Roderich's pretty insecure about himself. It's one of the reasons he acts so uptight and spends lots of time on his appearance.
- People who live in messes. Roderich carries hand sanitizer so he can deal with normal amounts of gross. Don't add to his troubles.
FEARS
- Friends leaving him or turning on him. Roderich didn't have many friends growing since he was always traveling and he screwed up a friendship due to his pride.
- Octupuses or Squids.
- His hands being broken during one of the tournaments. His hands are the medium which he uses to express the thoughts and emotions through music. It would be tantamount to death if he was to lose the use of his hands. Or go deaf, which would be equally devastating.
QUIRKS/ODDITIES
- The Underwear thing, as his immediate family refers to it. Roderich does show signs of having a obsessive-compulsive complex. Storing his underwear in any place but the underwear drawer is one of those things. His boxers have been found neatly folded under the pillow, behind his printer, and in his minifridge.
- His glasses are fake and he does not need them to see. He actually has great vision. The only reason he wears them is because he thinks he looks better.
- He's an avid baker but for some reason when he bakes loud banging noises come from the kitchen.
- He keeps a glock on him sometimes. But he also two safely hidden in his room, one in his violin case and the other in a secret compartment of a needle and thread box.
OVERALL PERSONALITY
Austere to most, Roderich Edelstein is never seen smiling in public or even with company, unless he particularly feels close to them. He is distrusting of most people, however behaves like a charming gentleman in front of everyone when he's fully in control of his mind. His voice is elegant and softer than most men's, yet firm and the pitch is almost always controlled (this is because his voice tends to go higher and may even crack when Roderich is extremely upset).
He's usually seen as detached, although with some neurotic tendencies. For one thing, he's a perfectionist. But the kind that stops doing something the moment it goes wrong and procrastinates until the very end. He's also insecure about his own appearance and personality, since his mother liked telling him that he was a stick in the mud. That's part of the reason Roderich is the type of person to worry about impressions. He likes making good ones; he was trained to do so.
Roderich also doesn't like to spend his money frivolously. His mother was a partying socialite when young, so he's seen the party scene and he isn't really impressed. He saves his money and reuses things several times.
---
From an early age Roderich showed that he was..soft.
Not of mind, no he’s a determined individual when he puts his mind to it, aided by his eloquent way of speaking. Physically he is soft; he just doesn't possess the strength that other men have. This wasn't anything dire in his circumstances; his parents (or his mother) were old money, even an aristocratic title back when things like that mattered in Austria politically. His father was a professor of psychology (which is how Roderich knows so much about the subject) and his mother was a born socialite and then journalist for a German-language travel magazine.
His mother got the travel bug when he was young. Tired of Vienna, she convinced his father to let her take Roderich with her around the world as she wrote. Roderich was a rather sullen child, no doubt helped by his mother’s friends calling him “homely”. While he hadn’t developed the aversion to traveling outside as he did in his teens, young Roderich was perfectly fine sitting in a dusty Viennese house playing the piano. For the next few years those occasions in which he could sit and play the piano were few, as his mother traveled to many odd places. Her writing got popular and she even had a small TV series out of her travels for a year.
As much as this bothered Roderich, and it did, it also helped him. He was usually helpless if alone and lost so he relied on his mind and language skills to help him. Picking up languages and customs came quickly, so much that his mother started using him as secondary translators. The months spent back in Austria were spent playing the piano or reading. If he was in the vacation house his family owned near the Swiss border he would play with a Swiss child from the other side of the lake. This child became his own true friend until an incident that caused them to cease talking to each other when Roderich was 13.
Around that time he also started refusing to travel with his mother, telling that he wanted to stay
home and go to school. His mother relented but dragged him off to an “elite” party with her socialite friends. Among present were several politicians and top government workers. One of them was secretly with HNaA and while conversing with Frau Edelstein found out about Roderich’s remarkable skills. A month later Roderich received an invitation to come to the HNaA as part of their initiative to develop new, highly-skilled and intelligent operatives, especially young ones. At first, Roderich had no desire to go. Spying sounded dangerous and he had enough of travelling after seven years with his mother. But his father found the letter and his parents forced him to go in and apply.
Roderich did well in training; he was naturally intelligent and good at skills needed to be an intelligence gatherer. His flaws were his tendency to procrastinate and his lack of motivation with things that required effort, especially physical effort. The director of the training program hoped that Roderich would toughen up and when the International Academy of Espionage, Detection, and Intelligence started accepting applications for students, he sent Roderich’s in for the full four years.
Roderich wasn’t exactly happy about that. Ever since his fight with his friend he’s been practically a recluse. In those rare moments he finds himself in pleasant company he can enjoy himself, but he usually spends his time in his room or in the music room. In things that don’t require much physical activity, he usually does great and has very good grades.
Roderich also has a mission to fufill. The intelligence agency he's working is known for having some of the best intelligence gathering programs focused on the former Soviet Bloc and Balkan countries
This is a post from Zirkustalia, an AU Victorian Circus Rp where I played Austria.
The caravan belonging to a Herr Roderich Von Edelstein was elegant but not extremely flashy as Roderich disliked gaudiness. No elegance could be achieved in piling things upon things without and limits or design. Over-painting his caravan or adding unnecessary details was like adding unneeded parts to a symphony; the end result was more cacophony then beauty. The caravan did give a strong impression of being one that was cleaned and polished often, often shining brightly in comparison to other caravans. Such was the case on this particular night, the full moon shining down on Roderich's caravan (and the other ones as well) from the heavens seemed to make the caravan glow as soft scratching noises were emitted from it.
The Manager of the Zirkus was currently sitting on the edge of his stool, his back bent over the desk on which he was writing. For once Roderich's caravan wasn't meticulously clean; it was as scattered and messy as it's master's current state of mind. Crumpled scraps of paper dotted the inside of the caravan, mostly strewn carelessly around the little wooden wastepaper bin he kept near his door. The little closet was lazily stuffed, opening enough to show a few of Roderich's petticoats, one being a particularly embarrassing lacy number. The bed was unmade and showed signs of its occupant having tossed around. The desk, usually in pristine condition and neatly organized, had paper and utensils lying unorganized and several coffee rings from the cups on it.
Roderich leaned in further over his desk as he held his un-groomed(therefore straight) hair in place by holding on to it with the hand holding up his head. It was late at night and he resisted the urge to rub at his eyes with ink-stained hands and arms. The contents of the desk were barely visible by the dim candle light Roderich was using, but several crumpled and hastily written letters and notes, a freshly inked entry in his Tagebuch could be seen. Roderich quickly scribbled over a stack of forms, not even bothering to read some of them, intent on finishing before dawn. Due to the letter on his desk from his mother, he had received an even bigger workload than normal. Not that he hadn't expected this, after all sending money back home meant that they had money to make investments and dealings. It was just irritating.
Roderich stopped dead in his writing after hearing a noise outside. Dropping his quill into the inkwell (he didn't feel it necessary to waste money on a pen when he could use a quill. To hell with modern fashion was his response to people who asked why he still used those things) he straightened himself and his cravat, unconsciously getting some ink on it.
"Who could be outside at this time?" thought Roderich. Technically he wasn't even in proper appearance, as he had no shoes on, but Roderich didn't give a damn about his appearance at this time of night. Grabbing the candle dish, Roderich tiptoed softly to the door and peeked through the key hole he had made for himself. Roderich’s eyesight wasn’t bad, but he was barely able to make out the shape of the person outside through his window. Blink. He could see it was a man, not very tall, either. Another blink. He was definitely holding something alive, a dog or a cat perhaps? And what was that odd hair going to the side? After recognizing the man outside, Roderich quickly lifted the latch and poked his head out the door to look at Lovino Vargas.
“Herr Vargas? What in Gott’s name are you doing outside at this hour?”
The caravan belonging to a Herr Roderich Von Edelstein was elegant but not extremely flashy as Roderich disliked gaudiness. No elegance could be achieved in piling things upon things without and limits or design. Over-painting his caravan or adding unnecessary details was like adding unneeded parts to a symphony; the end result was more cacophony then beauty. The caravan did give a strong impression of being one that was cleaned and polished often, often shining brightly in comparison to other caravans. Such was the case on this particular night, the full moon shining down on Roderich's caravan (and the other ones as well) from the heavens seemed to make the caravan glow as soft scratching noises were emitted from it.
The Manager of the Zirkus was currently sitting on the edge of his stool, his back bent over the desk on which he was writing. For once Roderich's caravan wasn't meticulously clean; it was as scattered and messy as it's master's current state of mind. Crumpled scraps of paper dotted the inside of the caravan, mostly strewn carelessly around the little wooden wastepaper bin he kept near his door. The little closet was lazily stuffed, opening enough to show a few of Roderich's petticoats, one being a particularly embarrassing lacy number. The bed was unmade and showed signs of its occupant having tossed around. The desk, usually in pristine condition and neatly organized, had paper and utensils lying unorganized and several coffee rings from the cups on it.
Roderich leaned in further over his desk as he held his un-groomed(therefore straight) hair in place by holding on to it with the hand holding up his head. It was late at night and he resisted the urge to rub at his eyes with ink-stained hands and arms. The contents of the desk were barely visible by the dim candle light Roderich was using, but several crumpled and hastily written letters and notes, a freshly inked entry in his Tagebuch could be seen. Roderich quickly scribbled over a stack of forms, not even bothering to read some of them, intent on finishing before dawn. Due to the letter on his desk from his mother, he had received an even bigger workload than normal. Not that he hadn't expected this, after all sending money back home meant that they had money to make investments and dealings. It was just irritating.
Roderich stopped dead in his writing after hearing a noise outside. Dropping his quill into the inkwell (he didn't feel it necessary to waste money on a pen when he could use a quill. To hell with modern fashion was his response to people who asked why he still used those things) he straightened himself and his cravat, unconsciously getting some ink on it.
"Who could be outside at this time?" thought Roderich. Technically he wasn't even in proper appearance, as he had no shoes on, but Roderich didn't give a damn about his appearance at this time of night. Grabbing the candle dish, Roderich tiptoed softly to the door and peeked through the key hole he had made for himself. Roderich’s eyesight wasn’t bad, but he was barely able to make out the shape of the person outside through his window. Blink. He could see it was a man, not very tall, either. Another blink. He was definitely holding something alive, a dog or a cat perhaps? And what was that odd hair going to the side? After recognizing the man outside, Roderich quickly lifted the latch and poked his head out the door to look at Lovino Vargas.
“Herr Vargas? What in Gott’s name are you doing outside at this hour?”
YOUR NAME OR ALIAS Rina
WHERE CAN WE CONTACT YOU?My chatango is Klaviermann.
WHERE DID YOU FIND US? Recommendation by the lovely Madame Nemo.
