Tithonus Application

Aug 08, 2009 18:50

.the myth;
» God(dess): Tithonus
» Reference: Wikipedia, Encyclopedia
» Family: {father & mother} Laomedon and Strymo ; {spouse} Eos
» Played By: Nino Manfredi
» Human Alias: Benjamin Clement
» Human Age: 68
» God of...: Grasshoppers n/a


» Flair: Whether from his previous occupation as a rhapsode or from his newfound duty as the complex’s grandpa, the latter of which will be a joke passed around several times at dinner parties until it gets tiring, Tithonus currently finds himself subtly equipped with a distinguishably compelling narration voice. One that is a little too captivating to be easily tuned out; which is just too damn bad because lord, he was born a rambling man.

» Flair Type: Continuous

» Weakness: Perhaps it’d be rude and presumptuous to list “ancient” as the first liability, but: ancient. He will tell you so himself with a jarring pun and a modicum of wit and a toothy grin wheezing at his own cleverness, overused and overspent and overestimated. Tithonus is a hard man to reach; not so much set in his ways as he is unable to gracefully accept adversity to his views. And, to some extent, they’re not even his views. Tithonus is rather concerned with being left behind, and so he adopts the viewpoints of others like him (in this case, his new peers), and when he can’t defend these mostly conservative claims, he laughs and says nothing else-unable to. To some extent, he lacks self-awareness.

» Fitting in: Is somehow supplied with a retirement pension; he says-he repeats-that he’s not going to ask how for fear of jinxing it and then laughs at himself. He has taken to walking around a lot, and being an old bum that smiles at you in the park and occasionally brings nice looking bugs home in perforated (by a fork, judging by the pattern of the air holes) shoe boxes.

» Personality: Disparateness, to some extent, defines Tithonus and there is, immediately, upon sight, a pressing distinction between him and the rest of the Olympians. In Tithonus’ more unique case, the visual and physical differences with which he lives have a direct effect upon the state of his psyche. And physical manifestations being the most prominent and apparent divide between him and the others, his mentality, in a way, takes on a tangible form in it’s own.

Unlike the majority of Candy Mountain’s population (or rather, it’s former population), Tithonus suffers under the straining influence of old age. After being reduced to a babbling mass of flesh and bones and thereupon being shut up in Eos’ palace for a good part of eternity, senility’s personification-slumping limply in his throne-finds himself in a more or less good place back on earth; with control of his extremities and much younger than he was previously in the company immortality. Approximately three thousand years ago, when he still resembled at least a man of sorts, Tithonus endured aging painfully and excessive loneliness thereafter. It is unsurprising then, in retrospect, that to some extent Tithonus fears being left behind now, and pinpoints seniority as the cause of any such outcome. Age and time, both, in conjunction with one another, stand guilty without trial in his mind. Tithonus resents the wiry grey crown that adorns his head and the wrinkles that likewise grace his skin. He feels, above all else, that they damage him and make him less than a person.

The quality that tends to set Tithonus apart from the vast population of elderly peoples who hate the idea that old age has set upon them though, is the defensive measures to which he subscribes. Like many people, in order to overcome his slight, Tithonus embraces it-somewhat reluctantly so considering that it’s possibly the last thing he wants to think about let alone touch. But it seems only too apparent to him that “accepting” his decrepitude is the only way out of it. Even so, youth being around him so regularly, he can never give it up completely.

Tithonus, being a fairly gentle soul in most regards, embraces caducity in happier manner that some others though. For comfort in his old age, he resorts to humor, finding this quality to be sufficiently distracting. Tithonus is, in a simplified manner, that aging soul whom, wishing not to be forgotten, strives to get people to love him if at all possible; through humor, through stories, through a kind and craggily old stereotype that he wiggles into with some difficulty. He molds himself to be the archetypal lovable and funny grandfather, and through these methods makes himself out to be an old comedian who really isn’t all that funny but cute enough to get a pat on the head for it. On the whole, Tithonus very much wants to appease the crowd and be liked. To this extent, he is sociable-almost forcibly so. His most prominent fear is that he’ll slip someone’s mind and be lost forever thus, and therefore he will do just about anything, make as big a fool or awkward stranger of himself as he can in order to make an impression.

» Sample Journal: Give an old man credit, right? You know I slept in for hours today-hey, I don’t look half bad though. It ain’t half bad. It’s like aged wine. Better now, right? Right? Aha whoo boy. Where are you kiddies, I’ve got a tale for ya.

» Sample Roleplay: The sun beat down over the damn, puddled pavement of Central Park on that Sunday afternoon that Tithonus found himself seated alone on a bench, tucked away under an oak. Alone for a reason. As the day progressed, he earned more stares and more quick glances of confusion or pity at his awkward position: bent over himself, peering down under the bench curiously. The grasshopper that poised itself in his line of vision defensively made to jump a little, and Tithonus grinned toothily at it’s movement. His fingers strummed the ready shoe box, and after smacking his lips together loudly and letting a flubbery tongue lash up to wet them, he reached greedily for the cricket with long spindly fingers scraping against the concrete. He placed it in the shoe box, still wiggling, and closed the lid, and named it Poe.

His eyes unoccupied now by the wonder that was the bug named Poe, he spied far off a group of children awkwardly kicking the pebbles at their feet. Adjusting his glasses with a quivering hand, he grinned and waved enthusiastically, rising to his feet. “Hey there!” He called, moving over to the group. “You know, when I was younger pebbles were better; yes sir, they were…”

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