Application: paradisa
NAME: Herit
JOURNAL: setsuninto
EMAIL: chabliya@gmail.com
AIM: EmergencyShank
WIKI NAME: will be "Herit" :D
CHARACTERS: None! I used to play here over a year ago (I think), but had to drop. Want back in now, though, please?
CHARACTER NAME: Huey Laforet
FANDOM: Baccano!
CANON: Just at the start of the 1931 arc, while imprisoned in Newfoundland. Before learning about the Flying Pussyfoot Incident or being transported to New York for questioning.
WHAT THEY LOST: His memory of his daughter, Chane. He will forget virtually everything about her - who she is, what her name is, what their relationship is, as well as just lose any kind of feeling he has towards her; however, he will remember her face. He will, in fact, constantly see it in dreams and just randomly popping up in his mind, yet without any possibility of making the distinction who she is. Even if a Chane should be apped or if another character from his canon should inform him about their relationship, he won't be able to really make the connection again, since all his feelings about her are completely gone, too. Why does this affect him? Huey is a man of science, somebody who analyses and wants to understand everything (which he himself states as his ultimate goal). He's affected by little (elaboration on that in the personality section), but being haunted by the face of a woman who looks like his almost identical female twin (and is, thanks to his immortality, physically nearly the same age as him, her being 18, him being physically 21)? Yes, that WILL affect him. :D He's someone who seems always in control, who even talks casually to demons, but being faced with something that no matter how hard he tries, he can't figure out - just who that woman is and why she looks like him - will drive him crazy. Not... CRAZY crazy, but it will bother him. A lot. And seeing she is one of his favourite people/guinea pigs, it'll have a serious effect on him, playing him without those memories.
PERSONALITY: While the other characters may have many, fundamentally different opinions Huey, the most appropriate description to summarise him is "thoroughly unsettling". This is brought up by Sylvie Lumiere, an old acquaintance of his, when discussing the alchemists from the experiment in 1711 with another of them: While the anime's villain Szilard gains the descriptor "the most evil", and Huey's best friend Elmer is described as "definitely [...] the strangest", Sylvie proceeds to calling Huey "the most terrifying", adding after being asked if she is sure ("Is Huey really all that scary? He's just an unfathomable person."): "Scary, scary. Wasn't the person closest to him someone like Elmer?", to which her companion comments that Elmer didn't know what terror was. And as it turns out, that impression is quite justified.
Huey is a person who leaves you unsure what to think of him. Calm and quiet, intelligent, urbane, and incredibly cold and bitter, he is a ruthless man who pursues his aims with no regard for morals or ethic concepts. While he does not engage in needless sadism or killing, he goes to whatever lengths he has to in order to advance in his research, not hesitating for a second to experiment on humans or sacrifice who- and whatever he has to, including even his own daughter whom he raised himself. A scientist and researcher to heart, Huey observes rather than participates. Humans are interesting to him, and he sees no reason not to flat out say so. He is curious about their reactions and how circumstances influence them, watching them detached and "from above", which he considers his duty as a researcher. Death, violence, loss - all those things have no visible effect on him. Even when imprisoned as a terrorist and traitor to the U.S., he is calm, disinterested, thoroughly unaffected. He rarely sees things as a threat to him, at least not enough to be openly worried. He is, however, also perceptive and analytical enough to see that even his own organisation has no interest in him past his secret of immortality. While never shown feeling fear, neither during imprisonment nor when facing a demon, he also trusts nobody. Even with his daughter Chane, he only relies on her so much, and only because he has carefully and thoroughly manipulated her, made her dependent on him over years.
He has only one friend, Elmer C. Albatross, who is the one person Huey admits to consider human. And yet even with him, although Huey openly and honestly calls Elmer his friend, he also considers him "pure evil" and disturbing, because Elmer aims to making everybody happy - without distinguishing between good and evil. Huey also has a curious interest in him because due to Elmer's highly traumatic childhood and past, he does not believe that he knows the meaning of happiness himself. Nonetheless, according to himself, Huey admits that it was Elmer who first made him smile in front of other people. They have been friends since they were teenagers and at the same school, but even back then, perfect contradictions of each other. Huey was, contrarily to Elmer's typical optimism, the kind of teenager who hated the world and wanted its destruction, and would counterfeit money (with the knowledge of his principal) to finance his research even at the age of only 15 years. His pessimism and disgust against the world and humanity are the main source of his lack of sympathy for anybody. Huey is a man who is entirely disenchanted and cold, expecting nothing good from anything in this world and valuing nothing. His humour is cynical and cruel at best, full of loathing and a certain, spiteful sadism.
For that reason, he does not see anything wrong with his experiments; he lacks a conscience to feel guilt over what some of the results mean for the people he experimented on, and lacks the empathy and interest to care. Humans offer him nothing, and all favours look like bribes to him, because everything is, in his scientist's mind, done for a reason, and every creature has only itself in mind. That is also why he does feel the cynical sympathy he feels for Elmer, and is intrigued (but not completely convinced) by Chane's absolute loyalty to him, which he admits was a reaction by this guinea pig of his that he had not expected. Above all, however, Huey is ruthless and unscrupulous; he has no qualms that hold him back, and sees no reason not to use what nature and chance have given him - a brilliant, scientific mind and immortality. With these abilities, he believes - very Darwinian - that because he can, he has the right to do, even the obligation to do what he wants, and has a rightful power over people's lives, such as his homunculi and his test subjects, including Chane. He does not believe in morality or justice, or that they have or should have any power, even less about him. Even though he is not directly fond of taking hostages and killing, he would stop at nothing if it were necessary. Sometimes, this goes as far as that he takes unnecessary risks completely out of proportion to his gain, just to sate his curiosity; for instance, he prefers a life on America's Most Wanted list to an existence where he could calmly do his research under somebody else's supervision.
THIRD-PERSON WRITING SAMPLE: [Note: I honestly think that I've better represented him in this log than I could in sample, but here's one, too!]
Cold sweat running down his back.
That was the first thing that Huey noticed when he woke up from a sleep that wasn't sleep so much as dizzy, dark haze. He tried to breathe in deep and lift his hand, expecting pain, but there was none; just cold and the heavy weight of stress pressing down on his lungs. Everything was fine, and he knew it. There was no pain and no real weakness, but he felt nauseated without a physical source; stripped, raw, cold, and wound up to the highest pitch under subconscious, instinctive warnings he couldn't identify. Physically, everything felt more intense than normally, and he wished it wouldn't, because his rational mind was in chaos. The more urgently he tried to grasp the fleeting pictures in his memory, put them in order, and make a sense out of them, the quicker they slid through his fingers. He inhaled a shivering breath and sat up instantly.
The room was silent, dark, and empty.
In the darkness, Huey's chest heaved and sank slowly, while he let his eyes, golden and dead and with a nervous flutter, wander through the room.
He was alone. The realisation brought back rational thought, and let him close his lips with a shallow exhale at last. His hand wiped over his forehead, almost making it look like a gesture of relief, and for the moment, he was relieved enough not to feel disgust at the wetness of sweat on his skin. It felt even colder now that he had risen, but he did not notice that. There was something else. Dropping his feet off the bed, he took another look around, at the door, at the walls, scrutinising and impeccable again, as people would remember him. There wasn't anybody here. He shifted, making as little noise as possible (he hadn't forgotten about those intercoms, now that his sense and reason were back) when he pulled out a bunch of papers and a pencil from under the mattress.
He'd actually passed out. The notion was so ironic, so tasteless, that it made him smile dryly, but it was a smile that never reached his eyes. Pain and fighting weren't Huey's world. Immortal or not, he preferred to leave that part to others. His tasks and talents lied elsewhere, and so, being confronted with the limits of an immortal body so directly wasn't something he enjoyed. On the other hand, there was so much he had gained simply from this one meeting that he couldn't help but feel oblivious about that one unpleasant circumstance. Other things took priority now.
He shot a glance out of the window, and then began writing, in the hasty, brief style of a researcher. He had started, almost instantly after he had arrived, to use the sun - or, at night, the stars - to determine the hours more or less accurately. No matter what people of the newer times said, astronomy was certainly a useful skill in situations like this one. He wrote fast, putting his memories down on paper while they were fresh. There had been a lot that the doctor had told him, had mentioned casually during the treatment, and there had been a few things Huey had told him in return - things that one better remembered to have mentioned. His records were not safe even on paper, of course, but writing them down, studying them again would train his memory, and even if they should be found, he supposed that there weren't too many here - staff or patients - who could decipher Paracelsus' Alphabet of the Magi. For now, his work was relatively safe, and Huey was more than content with this relativity. He had always been a man for the bigger picture, not for details. Details were the obsession of bureaucrats, scientists and researchers like him - and especially researchers doubling as terrorist leaders, like him - had to do a work far more on the edge than that.
For a second, Huey's frantic scribbling stopped. A dull numbness spread from his fingertips and darkened the frames of his field of vision, along with a light-headed, nauseous feeling that spread inside his throat. Looked like he had gotten up too quickly, he realised, and mentally snorted a cold laugh. He was excited - excited enough to feel light-headed even without this reminder of human fragility, and excited enough to be amused by it. His old friend Elmer would have been overjoyed by a laugh, even more so from him, in a situation this dark. What would Elmer think of him now? While waiting for his momentum and consciousness to fully return, Huey tipped his head back and considered the question for a moment, dissecting it with analytical precision. Not only in prison, but in an asylum, declared legally insane - there was no doubt that many had done that before, that even more believed it, and that Huey himself could only laugh. Elmer was, most likely, the one person who appreciated his genuine laugh, and that was only because Elmer was what he was. Huey was a terrible man; he only laughed about terrible things. And Elmer? His pure smile made him quite demonic himself, and it very much more likely one of pure evil than pure good. This place would suit them both.
Even Elmer wouldn't have been able to lighten up this dreary place, but for Huey, it was a chance beyond his wildest hopes, if a risky one. Here he was, a criminal and terrorist feared throughout the United States, an alchemist, a scientist, leader of people who had come to consider themselves living ghosts, and creator of artificial life in his homunculi. And suddenly, he himself was a test subject - even worse, had freely offered his cooperation to those strangers with their scalpels. There were sacrifices a researcher had to give for his work. There were sacrifices he had taken from others, and his were small by comparison, small compared to the gain especially, and here, his eyes were on a gain that captivated and mesmerised him with its existence, like a snake. It was only times like these that something actually lit up in Huey's eyes and gave him this unfathomable smile that was genuine. Silently, he finished his notes and carefully hid them under the mattress again. He leant back, feeling the cold of the wall through the back of his drenched shirt, and smiled at the ground.
"And Chane, what about you?" he pondered quietly. "Would you choose, if you could?"
For a moment, he was silent. His smile stayed consistent, even when his eyes narrowed and darkened in chilling curiosity.
"Would you follow me even here?"
FIRST-PERSON WRITING SAMPLE:
[This is dictated in a calm, bored voice, after a while of silence and then a deep breath; almost like a sigh, almost with a tinge of resignation.]
This is more luxurious than what I expected. New York has seen a lot of change since the last time I was here.
How interesting...
[And here, the dictating voice gains a bit of a sharper tone - not aggressive, but with a challenging king of mockery.]
You didn't even lock the door. So, I'm permitted to leave my cell now? Alone even?
[There is a pause, and then an audible, cold smirk in his voice.]
Senator Beriam? This looks almost as if you're expecting something from me.
JOURNAL: setsuninto
EMAIL: chabliya@gmail.com
AIM: EmergencyShank
WIKI NAME: will be "Herit" :D
CHARACTERS: None! I used to play here over a year ago (I think), but had to drop. Want back in now, though, please?
CHARACTER NAME: Huey Laforet
FANDOM: Baccano!
CANON: Just at the start of the 1931 arc, while imprisoned in Newfoundland. Before learning about the Flying Pussyfoot Incident or being transported to New York for questioning.
WHAT THEY LOST: His memory of his daughter, Chane. He will forget virtually everything about her - who she is, what her name is, what their relationship is, as well as just lose any kind of feeling he has towards her; however, he will remember her face. He will, in fact, constantly see it in dreams and just randomly popping up in his mind, yet without any possibility of making the distinction who she is. Even if a Chane should be apped or if another character from his canon should inform him about their relationship, he won't be able to really make the connection again, since all his feelings about her are completely gone, too. Why does this affect him? Huey is a man of science, somebody who analyses and wants to understand everything (which he himself states as his ultimate goal). He's affected by little (elaboration on that in the personality section), but being haunted by the face of a woman who looks like his almost identical female twin (and is, thanks to his immortality, physically nearly the same age as him, her being 18, him being physically 21)? Yes, that WILL affect him. :D He's someone who seems always in control, who even talks casually to demons, but being faced with something that no matter how hard he tries, he can't figure out - just who that woman is and why she looks like him - will drive him crazy. Not... CRAZY crazy, but it will bother him. A lot. And seeing she is one of his favourite people/guinea pigs, it'll have a serious effect on him, playing him without those memories.
PERSONALITY: While the other characters may have many, fundamentally different opinions Huey, the most appropriate description to summarise him is "thoroughly unsettling". This is brought up by Sylvie Lumiere, an old acquaintance of his, when discussing the alchemists from the experiment in 1711 with another of them: While the anime's villain Szilard gains the descriptor "the most evil", and Huey's best friend Elmer is described as "definitely [...] the strangest", Sylvie proceeds to calling Huey "the most terrifying", adding after being asked if she is sure ("Is Huey really all that scary? He's just an unfathomable person."): "Scary, scary. Wasn't the person closest to him someone like Elmer?", to which her companion comments that Elmer didn't know what terror was. And as it turns out, that impression is quite justified.
Huey is a person who leaves you unsure what to think of him. Calm and quiet, intelligent, urbane, and incredibly cold and bitter, he is a ruthless man who pursues his aims with no regard for morals or ethic concepts. While he does not engage in needless sadism or killing, he goes to whatever lengths he has to in order to advance in his research, not hesitating for a second to experiment on humans or sacrifice who- and whatever he has to, including even his own daughter whom he raised himself. A scientist and researcher to heart, Huey observes rather than participates. Humans are interesting to him, and he sees no reason not to flat out say so. He is curious about their reactions and how circumstances influence them, watching them detached and "from above", which he considers his duty as a researcher. Death, violence, loss - all those things have no visible effect on him. Even when imprisoned as a terrorist and traitor to the U.S., he is calm, disinterested, thoroughly unaffected. He rarely sees things as a threat to him, at least not enough to be openly worried. He is, however, also perceptive and analytical enough to see that even his own organisation has no interest in him past his secret of immortality. While never shown feeling fear, neither during imprisonment nor when facing a demon, he also trusts nobody. Even with his daughter Chane, he only relies on her so much, and only because he has carefully and thoroughly manipulated her, made her dependent on him over years.
He has only one friend, Elmer C. Albatross, who is the one person Huey admits to consider human. And yet even with him, although Huey openly and honestly calls Elmer his friend, he also considers him "pure evil" and disturbing, because Elmer aims to making everybody happy - without distinguishing between good and evil. Huey also has a curious interest in him because due to Elmer's highly traumatic childhood and past, he does not believe that he knows the meaning of happiness himself. Nonetheless, according to himself, Huey admits that it was Elmer who first made him smile in front of other people. They have been friends since they were teenagers and at the same school, but even back then, perfect contradictions of each other. Huey was, contrarily to Elmer's typical optimism, the kind of teenager who hated the world and wanted its destruction, and would counterfeit money (with the knowledge of his principal) to finance his research even at the age of only 15 years. His pessimism and disgust against the world and humanity are the main source of his lack of sympathy for anybody. Huey is a man who is entirely disenchanted and cold, expecting nothing good from anything in this world and valuing nothing. His humour is cynical and cruel at best, full of loathing and a certain, spiteful sadism.
For that reason, he does not see anything wrong with his experiments; he lacks a conscience to feel guilt over what some of the results mean for the people he experimented on, and lacks the empathy and interest to care. Humans offer him nothing, and all favours look like bribes to him, because everything is, in his scientist's mind, done for a reason, and every creature has only itself in mind. That is also why he does feel the cynical sympathy he feels for Elmer, and is intrigued (but not completely convinced) by Chane's absolute loyalty to him, which he admits was a reaction by this guinea pig of his that he had not expected. Above all, however, Huey is ruthless and unscrupulous; he has no qualms that hold him back, and sees no reason not to use what nature and chance have given him - a brilliant, scientific mind and immortality. With these abilities, he believes - very Darwinian - that because he can, he has the right to do, even the obligation to do what he wants, and has a rightful power over people's lives, such as his homunculi and his test subjects, including Chane. He does not believe in morality or justice, or that they have or should have any power, even less about him. Even though he is not directly fond of taking hostages and killing, he would stop at nothing if it were necessary. Sometimes, this goes as far as that he takes unnecessary risks completely out of proportion to his gain, just to sate his curiosity; for instance, he prefers a life on America's Most Wanted list to an existence where he could calmly do his research under somebody else's supervision.
THIRD-PERSON WRITING SAMPLE: [Note: I honestly think that I've better represented him in this log than I could in sample, but here's one, too!]
Cold sweat running down his back.
That was the first thing that Huey noticed when he woke up from a sleep that wasn't sleep so much as dizzy, dark haze. He tried to breathe in deep and lift his hand, expecting pain, but there was none; just cold and the heavy weight of stress pressing down on his lungs. Everything was fine, and he knew it. There was no pain and no real weakness, but he felt nauseated without a physical source; stripped, raw, cold, and wound up to the highest pitch under subconscious, instinctive warnings he couldn't identify. Physically, everything felt more intense than normally, and he wished it wouldn't, because his rational mind was in chaos. The more urgently he tried to grasp the fleeting pictures in his memory, put them in order, and make a sense out of them, the quicker they slid through his fingers. He inhaled a shivering breath and sat up instantly.
The room was silent, dark, and empty.
In the darkness, Huey's chest heaved and sank slowly, while he let his eyes, golden and dead and with a nervous flutter, wander through the room.
He was alone. The realisation brought back rational thought, and let him close his lips with a shallow exhale at last. His hand wiped over his forehead, almost making it look like a gesture of relief, and for the moment, he was relieved enough not to feel disgust at the wetness of sweat on his skin. It felt even colder now that he had risen, but he did not notice that. There was something else. Dropping his feet off the bed, he took another look around, at the door, at the walls, scrutinising and impeccable again, as people would remember him. There wasn't anybody here. He shifted, making as little noise as possible (he hadn't forgotten about those intercoms, now that his sense and reason were back) when he pulled out a bunch of papers and a pencil from under the mattress.
He'd actually passed out. The notion was so ironic, so tasteless, that it made him smile dryly, but it was a smile that never reached his eyes. Pain and fighting weren't Huey's world. Immortal or not, he preferred to leave that part to others. His tasks and talents lied elsewhere, and so, being confronted with the limits of an immortal body so directly wasn't something he enjoyed. On the other hand, there was so much he had gained simply from this one meeting that he couldn't help but feel oblivious about that one unpleasant circumstance. Other things took priority now.
He shot a glance out of the window, and then began writing, in the hasty, brief style of a researcher. He had started, almost instantly after he had arrived, to use the sun - or, at night, the stars - to determine the hours more or less accurately. No matter what people of the newer times said, astronomy was certainly a useful skill in situations like this one. He wrote fast, putting his memories down on paper while they were fresh. There had been a lot that the doctor had told him, had mentioned casually during the treatment, and there had been a few things Huey had told him in return - things that one better remembered to have mentioned. His records were not safe even on paper, of course, but writing them down, studying them again would train his memory, and even if they should be found, he supposed that there weren't too many here - staff or patients - who could decipher Paracelsus' Alphabet of the Magi. For now, his work was relatively safe, and Huey was more than content with this relativity. He had always been a man for the bigger picture, not for details. Details were the obsession of bureaucrats, scientists and researchers like him - and especially researchers doubling as terrorist leaders, like him - had to do a work far more on the edge than that.
For a second, Huey's frantic scribbling stopped. A dull numbness spread from his fingertips and darkened the frames of his field of vision, along with a light-headed, nauseous feeling that spread inside his throat. Looked like he had gotten up too quickly, he realised, and mentally snorted a cold laugh. He was excited - excited enough to feel light-headed even without this reminder of human fragility, and excited enough to be amused by it. His old friend Elmer would have been overjoyed by a laugh, even more so from him, in a situation this dark. What would Elmer think of him now? While waiting for his momentum and consciousness to fully return, Huey tipped his head back and considered the question for a moment, dissecting it with analytical precision. Not only in prison, but in an asylum, declared legally insane - there was no doubt that many had done that before, that even more believed it, and that Huey himself could only laugh. Elmer was, most likely, the one person who appreciated his genuine laugh, and that was only because Elmer was what he was. Huey was a terrible man; he only laughed about terrible things. And Elmer? His pure smile made him quite demonic himself, and it very much more likely one of pure evil than pure good. This place would suit them both.
Even Elmer wouldn't have been able to lighten up this dreary place, but for Huey, it was a chance beyond his wildest hopes, if a risky one. Here he was, a criminal and terrorist feared throughout the United States, an alchemist, a scientist, leader of people who had come to consider themselves living ghosts, and creator of artificial life in his homunculi. And suddenly, he himself was a test subject - even worse, had freely offered his cooperation to those strangers with their scalpels. There were sacrifices a researcher had to give for his work. There were sacrifices he had taken from others, and his were small by comparison, small compared to the gain especially, and here, his eyes were on a gain that captivated and mesmerised him with its existence, like a snake. It was only times like these that something actually lit up in Huey's eyes and gave him this unfathomable smile that was genuine. Silently, he finished his notes and carefully hid them under the mattress again. He leant back, feeling the cold of the wall through the back of his drenched shirt, and smiled at the ground.
"And Chane, what about you?" he pondered quietly. "Would you choose, if you could?"
For a moment, he was silent. His smile stayed consistent, even when his eyes narrowed and darkened in chilling curiosity.
"Would you follow me even here?"
FIRST-PERSON WRITING SAMPLE:
[This is dictated in a calm, bored voice, after a while of silence and then a deep breath; almost like a sigh, almost with a tinge of resignation.]
This is more luxurious than what I expected. New York has seen a lot of change since the last time I was here.
How interesting...
[And here, the dictating voice gains a bit of a sharper tone - not aggressive, but with a challenging king of mockery.]
You didn't even lock the door. So, I'm permitted to leave my cell now? Alone even?
[There is a pause, and then an audible, cold smirk in his voice.]
Senator Beriam? This looks almost as if you're expecting something from me.