NO 8% CHANCE | Polychromatic App.
[nick / name]: Jansen
[personal LJ name]: n/a
[other characters currently played]: The Tenth Doctor | Doctor Who | am_i_being_rude
[e-mail]: jamiemckrimmon [at] gmail [dot] com
[AIM / messenger]: ga11imaufry
[series]: Kiss Kiss Bang Bang
[character]: Harry Lockhart
[character history / background]:Prior to the events that led to his moving from the east to the west coast, there isn't a whole lot to tell about Harry's life. He grew up in the very small town of Embrey, Indiana - 'when in doubt, cut up a pig' level small - and eventually moved to New York City, likely because it was easier to blend in while you were stealing things in a place with approximately a million more people in it.
His life really didn't get all that interesting until the night he tried to steal his niece's Christmas gift, as it began one of the most unlikely series of events ever. Attempting to run away from the cops after his partner got shot, he ran into an open audition by accident and wound up being flown to Los Angeles in preparation for the part in the movie he'd landed. While out on surveillance, learning from a real private detective how to play the part of one in the film, he stumbled into a real life murder mystery. During the course of the mystery, he befriended the PI - Gay Perry - ran into an old friend of his from childhood, lost one of his fingers (repeatedly), shot about eight people, shares a fun kiss with Perry, found out his friend's sister was murdered, found a body in his shower (and peed on it) after having found the same body in a lake, and ultimately wound up partnering with Gay Perry, becoming an actual PI in the end.
[character abilities]:Harry Lockhart possesses no particular preter, super, or even slightly unnatural abilities, except for possibly being consistently the luckiest slightly-below-average man on the planet. Really all he can lay claim to is having somewhat remarkable hand-eye coordination, attributed by himself to having 'used to be a magician'.
[character personality]:In terms of instant appearances, Harry comes across as a somewhat immature, slightly incompetent, super non-threatening individual. Every single one of these assumptions is also correct. For whatever reason, he's managed to stumble through life not so much through any kind of personal skill or with any amount of ambition, but more with sheer dumb luck and a sort of endearing quality that tends to make people help him out as they smack him upside the back of the head for his complete lack of common sense. He compulsively steals little things when he feels stressed out, speaks without thinking at all beforehand, has very little ability to use forethought, and has a deep seated fear of finishing anything, to the point where even things he actually wants can be dropped by the wayside.
Despite having a myriad of faults, Harry is actually a pretty good person though. It's difficult to find someone who tries any harder in the face of repeated failure, and for someone whose vocation is mainly theft, he possesses a rather strong moral compass, or at the very least a strong sense of compassion for other people. Also, again particularly for a thief, he's remarkably good at putting other people ahead of himself, leaving nearly everyone he meets on an even keel without putting too much thought into it. Well, technically he doesn't put a great deal of thought into most things, so that's not entirely uncommon, but even so.
Honestly, Harry tends to be one of those people that you either almost instantly find annoying, or tolerate in a sort of wayward-puppy kind of way. He doesn't really mess around with social etiquette - not on any conscious, buck-the-system level, but simply because they're something that requires at least a little bit of consideration for what you're about to say versus what you maybe perhaps shouldn't. Some people find such innocent honesty to be somewhat nice, others find it fairly offensive; it really depends on their own personalities.
[point in timeline you're picking your character from]:
Post film. Effectively from around the scene in the credits sequence.
[journal post]:[Video opens very prematurely. There's a full thirteen seconds of nothing but a slightly canted room, and then someone from the bridge of the nose up appears from the side of screen. The screen adjusts to be more fully on his face and then over-corrects to be slightly tilted in the other direction.]
So, like, where is this place? I get that it's a city, but... There's loads of those things all over the place - I can even name you a few - so... where is this one? Is Gay Perry here? If anybody knows where he is then you can just... Beam me to him and he'll know what to do, I guess. Unless any of you guys - or gals, I don't wanna get things thrown at me again like last time - knows where he is then I'd sort of be happy if you could, you know... Do that.
Oh! Is there anywhere to get a decent pizza round here? Or... The money for a pizza, and then the pizza. Maybe anybody who already wants a pizza and doesn't mind sharing with me for now. That would work.
[third person / log sample]:Harry was a little more... Shall we say, 'scatterbrained' than usual today. He was in to open the shop as a favour to Jonesy, and had effectively been arms and legs and more occasionally mouth a-kimbo since he'd woken up. The way over here - he'd had to go pick up something from some place he'd already forgotten being to only two hours ago - had been a combination of walking, falling, and awkwardly sort of doing both at the same time. Actually being in the shop had admittedly calmed him down a little bit, but partially inversely made it look and feel as though he were more frenetic than before, since now there was an enclosed space thing to be concerned with.
Having already nearly knocked over a shelf, Harry was currently very concerned with space. If he had to put a bookshelf back up to rights and reorganise all the books that had fallen off it, he would effectively be able to say goodbye to and of the other things he might have only in passing wanted to do today. That, and he just wanted to not leave things in a state for Jonesy. Jonesy was a cool guy. He liked Jonesy. From what he could tell, most people did. The universe liked Jonesy. Harry suspected it had something to do with how much fun it was to say 'Jonesy'. People who had names that were awkward to get out or sounded odd or Germanic tended to have a harder time with popularity, he thought. Unless. Unless you could nickname them. Then the field was even. Actually Jonesy was in itself a nickname, and since the man's first name was 'Mortimer', he supposed that all of this matched his just-now-created-theory. Two points for Harry.
Given the proximity issues he was having with solid things today, he was doing most of his checking from a relatively safe distance. It was much more difficult to knock bookshelves over when you were standing a full two feet away from them, squinting at the book titles, owing purely to your not-being-close-enough-to-them-to-knock-them-over. It was like trying to attack castles with marshmallows and cinnamon rolls - you wouldn't make a dent but it would be sort of amusing to watch you try, and all the people/things that everyone secretly wanted to be around would eventually fail and go do something else. ...Something like that, anyway. His simile got away from him.
So, all in all, a fairly normal day in the bookstore. Shortly hereafter he would finish the crosschecking he was looking at and actually just start being a helpful bookstore owner by sitting in one of the chairs reading a book and answering questions if anyone happened to want to ask someone who looked like another customer just there to enjoy a novel of whatever their particular preference happened to be. Today he planned on reading a selection of Calvin and Hobbes, but that was only because he'd finished reading all the mystery books last time he'd played shop owner and for some reason they'd left him needing the nice grounding presence of mind that simple pranks tended to provide. It was like some sort of obligation to his own motor neurons.
Having finished all the things mentioned though, rather than either Calvin or Hobbes, the first person Harry set eyes on was Gabe, somewhat sullenly wandering around in that manner that most indie directors tended to do, and particularly indie directors who were Gabe, who Harry thought sort of had the angry indie director thing down probably in some former life as well as this one.
'Gabe!' He limbed his way over, by which I mean the legs did the propulsion and the hands set about gesticulating to words that he hadn't even started speaking yet. 'What're you doing in here? I mean, not that seeing you is odd. Just early. I think. Might not be. What're you reading?'
Harry liked Gabe. He really did. He wasn't sure why he liked Gabe so much, equally as much as he wasn't sure why Gabe so tolerated his presence, when honestly it normally felt like he was just annoying him all the time. Maybe Gabe just wanted more spontaneity in his life. Or enjoyed being interrupted when he was trying to read. Or knew that that much annoyance and grey sort of creeping aura around anyone will actually honestly, really not help things no matter how much you might think that it doesn't have an effect. (He'd read through the self-help books the time before last.) Harry sort of doubted a number of these trains of thought, but until Gabe turned and responded to him, there wasn't much else he could do but follow them. And rock back and forth on the balls of his feet a little.
[personal LJ name]: n/a
[other characters currently played]: The Tenth Doctor | Doctor Who | am_i_being_rude
[e-mail]: jamiemckrimmon [at] gmail [dot] com
[AIM / messenger]: ga11imaufry
[series]: Kiss Kiss Bang Bang
[character]: Harry Lockhart
[character history / background]:Prior to the events that led to his moving from the east to the west coast, there isn't a whole lot to tell about Harry's life. He grew up in the very small town of Embrey, Indiana - 'when in doubt, cut up a pig' level small - and eventually moved to New York City, likely because it was easier to blend in while you were stealing things in a place with approximately a million more people in it.
His life really didn't get all that interesting until the night he tried to steal his niece's Christmas gift, as it began one of the most unlikely series of events ever. Attempting to run away from the cops after his partner got shot, he ran into an open audition by accident and wound up being flown to Los Angeles in preparation for the part in the movie he'd landed. While out on surveillance, learning from a real private detective how to play the part of one in the film, he stumbled into a real life murder mystery. During the course of the mystery, he befriended the PI - Gay Perry - ran into an old friend of his from childhood, lost one of his fingers (repeatedly), shot about eight people, shares a fun kiss with Perry, found out his friend's sister was murdered, found a body in his shower (and peed on it) after having found the same body in a lake, and ultimately wound up partnering with Gay Perry, becoming an actual PI in the end.
[character abilities]:Harry Lockhart possesses no particular preter, super, or even slightly unnatural abilities, except for possibly being consistently the luckiest slightly-below-average man on the planet. Really all he can lay claim to is having somewhat remarkable hand-eye coordination, attributed by himself to having 'used to be a magician'.
[character personality]:In terms of instant appearances, Harry comes across as a somewhat immature, slightly incompetent, super non-threatening individual. Every single one of these assumptions is also correct. For whatever reason, he's managed to stumble through life not so much through any kind of personal skill or with any amount of ambition, but more with sheer dumb luck and a sort of endearing quality that tends to make people help him out as they smack him upside the back of the head for his complete lack of common sense. He compulsively steals little things when he feels stressed out, speaks without thinking at all beforehand, has very little ability to use forethought, and has a deep seated fear of finishing anything, to the point where even things he actually wants can be dropped by the wayside.
Despite having a myriad of faults, Harry is actually a pretty good person though. It's difficult to find someone who tries any harder in the face of repeated failure, and for someone whose vocation is mainly theft, he possesses a rather strong moral compass, or at the very least a strong sense of compassion for other people. Also, again particularly for a thief, he's remarkably good at putting other people ahead of himself, leaving nearly everyone he meets on an even keel without putting too much thought into it. Well, technically he doesn't put a great deal of thought into most things, so that's not entirely uncommon, but even so.
Honestly, Harry tends to be one of those people that you either almost instantly find annoying, or tolerate in a sort of wayward-puppy kind of way. He doesn't really mess around with social etiquette - not on any conscious, buck-the-system level, but simply because they're something that requires at least a little bit of consideration for what you're about to say versus what you maybe perhaps shouldn't. Some people find such innocent honesty to be somewhat nice, others find it fairly offensive; it really depends on their own personalities.
[point in timeline you're picking your character from]:
Post film. Effectively from around the scene in the credits sequence.
[journal post]:[Video opens very prematurely. There's a full thirteen seconds of nothing but a slightly canted room, and then someone from the bridge of the nose up appears from the side of screen. The screen adjusts to be more fully on his face and then over-corrects to be slightly tilted in the other direction.]
So, like, where is this place? I get that it's a city, but... There's loads of those things all over the place - I can even name you a few - so... where is this one? Is Gay Perry here? If anybody knows where he is then you can just... Beam me to him and he'll know what to do, I guess. Unless any of you guys - or gals, I don't wanna get things thrown at me again like last time - knows where he is then I'd sort of be happy if you could, you know... Do that.
Oh! Is there anywhere to get a decent pizza round here? Or... The money for a pizza, and then the pizza. Maybe anybody who already wants a pizza and doesn't mind sharing with me for now. That would work.
[third person / log sample]:Harry was a little more... Shall we say, 'scatterbrained' than usual today. He was in to open the shop as a favour to Jonesy, and had effectively been arms and legs and more occasionally mouth a-kimbo since he'd woken up. The way over here - he'd had to go pick up something from some place he'd already forgotten being to only two hours ago - had been a combination of walking, falling, and awkwardly sort of doing both at the same time. Actually being in the shop had admittedly calmed him down a little bit, but partially inversely made it look and feel as though he were more frenetic than before, since now there was an enclosed space thing to be concerned with.
Having already nearly knocked over a shelf, Harry was currently very concerned with space. If he had to put a bookshelf back up to rights and reorganise all the books that had fallen off it, he would effectively be able to say goodbye to and of the other things he might have only in passing wanted to do today. That, and he just wanted to not leave things in a state for Jonesy. Jonesy was a cool guy. He liked Jonesy. From what he could tell, most people did. The universe liked Jonesy. Harry suspected it had something to do with how much fun it was to say 'Jonesy'. People who had names that were awkward to get out or sounded odd or Germanic tended to have a harder time with popularity, he thought. Unless. Unless you could nickname them. Then the field was even. Actually Jonesy was in itself a nickname, and since the man's first name was 'Mortimer', he supposed that all of this matched his just-now-created-theory. Two points for Harry.
Given the proximity issues he was having with solid things today, he was doing most of his checking from a relatively safe distance. It was much more difficult to knock bookshelves over when you were standing a full two feet away from them, squinting at the book titles, owing purely to your not-being-close-enough-to-them-to-knock-them-over. It was like trying to attack castles with marshmallows and cinnamon rolls - you wouldn't make a dent but it would be sort of amusing to watch you try, and all the people/things that everyone secretly wanted to be around would eventually fail and go do something else. ...Something like that, anyway. His simile got away from him.
So, all in all, a fairly normal day in the bookstore. Shortly hereafter he would finish the crosschecking he was looking at and actually just start being a helpful bookstore owner by sitting in one of the chairs reading a book and answering questions if anyone happened to want to ask someone who looked like another customer just there to enjoy a novel of whatever their particular preference happened to be. Today he planned on reading a selection of Calvin and Hobbes, but that was only because he'd finished reading all the mystery books last time he'd played shop owner and for some reason they'd left him needing the nice grounding presence of mind that simple pranks tended to provide. It was like some sort of obligation to his own motor neurons.
Having finished all the things mentioned though, rather than either Calvin or Hobbes, the first person Harry set eyes on was Gabe, somewhat sullenly wandering around in that manner that most indie directors tended to do, and particularly indie directors who were Gabe, who Harry thought sort of had the angry indie director thing down probably in some former life as well as this one.
'Gabe!' He limbed his way over, by which I mean the legs did the propulsion and the hands set about gesticulating to words that he hadn't even started speaking yet. 'What're you doing in here? I mean, not that seeing you is odd. Just early. I think. Might not be. What're you reading?'
Harry liked Gabe. He really did. He wasn't sure why he liked Gabe so much, equally as much as he wasn't sure why Gabe so tolerated his presence, when honestly it normally felt like he was just annoying him all the time. Maybe Gabe just wanted more spontaneity in his life. Or enjoyed being interrupted when he was trying to read. Or knew that that much annoyance and grey sort of creeping aura around anyone will actually honestly, really not help things no matter how much you might think that it doesn't have an effect. (He'd read through the self-help books the time before last.) Harry sort of doubted a number of these trains of thought, but until Gabe turned and responded to him, there wasn't much else he could do but follow them. And rock back and forth on the balls of his feet a little.