Herbert 3.0
Mar 8, 2012 21:35:47 GMT -5
Post by Herbert von Krolock on Mar 8, 2012 21:35:47 GMT -5
(Suethor's Note: Yet another Herbert reboot. Bear with me on this. This profile is a modified version of the last go-round's.)
Full Name: Viscount Herbert Johannes Friedrich Gherardi von Krolock
Fandom: POTO, original, other (specify)? Tanz der Vampire/an attempt to go all Adaptation Distillation in regards to Herbert's previous Sueniverse incarnation.
Age: Frustratingly nearly-twenty on a permanent basis.
Height: 6'5". And then there are the shoes he typically wears. The boy is huge.
Build: Well, uh, tall. REALLY FREAKING TALL. And then on top of that, he has a rather broad chest and shoulders to match. His limbs and hands and feet are rather long, and altogether he gives off an impression of being both strapping and a bit stretched out.
Hair: Long from a general neglect of the idea of cutting it (which has made it pretty damn raspy-looking), and a light golden-blond, except for a rather heavy distribution of dull white streaks. These probably would just look like lighter bits of blond if he didn't have a terrible habit of pulling it back from his face very tightly, in a way that makes much of the visible hair before the ponytail appear mostly white. He's actually managed to tug his hairline back a quarter of an inch or so from years of this, and so he has a few little thin wisps that fall over his forehead unless he finds a way of pushing them back too.
Eyes: Grey.
Nationality: ...what do you even call somebody who was born in Hungary with a Romanian father of Austrian extraction and a Swiss-Italian mother? EUROPEAN, THAT'S WHAT.
Job: STAY TUNED, THIS IS WHERE THINGS START TO SHIFT FROM PREVIOUS VERSEBERT INCARNATIONS.
Personality: Bored, frivolous, calculating, clingy, a bit vain. He's actually managed to grow out of being his father's spoiled bb, somewhat, by finding ways of providing for himself, and he's terribly proud of figuring these out. Herbert's chief goal in existing is fighting off the crippling ennui that comes from not having any kind of meter running out on his life, which has ended up engendering one hell of a mindlessly hedonistic streak.
This hasn't prevented him from nevertheless coming off as rather jaded, though this was already in place when he lived- anyone would be bitter at finding out at age fifteen that their father would never be passing the family title down to them, and that on top of this they were doomed to succumbing to the streak of violent insanity that ran through their bloodline. Then, of course, there's the status he sees himself as having been "reduced to." But Herbert finds the idea of being gloomy about this for very long utterly pointless, and even if he's still somewhat naive about how people work, he'd really rather not end up like his morose, tormented father. Even a neverending cycle of decadence, frivolity, obsessing over fashion and more or less prostituting himself to mortals looking for a cheap thrill has to be better than one of walking around in graveyards and prophesying grimly about the future.
As a result, Herbert comes off as very constructed- he's spent years making sure his bearing and speech patterns and gestures are just so, and he's become pretty much inseparable from what was once just a put-on persona of a hypermasculine (for the time) dandy. He struts rather than walks, he carries himself with his shoulders thrust back and his chin high, he knows how to fence and write poetry. From a modern perspective he probably seems a bit effeminate, but as far as Herbert himself is concerned he just oozes manliness. He likes pretty things because he is no longer able to see firsthand if he himself is still beautiful- the mirror problem- and makes a careful effort to surround himself with pretty people and pretty objects. In this, however, he is not always successful. It's hard when you're basically living as a combination parasite/dreg of society.
It's not the best of existences, but otherwise he'd be mouldering away in a tomb somewhere, and who wants that?
Full Name: Viscount Herbert Johannes Friedrich Gherardi von Krolock
Fandom: POTO, original, other (specify)? Tanz der Vampire/an attempt to go all Adaptation Distillation in regards to Herbert's previous Sueniverse incarnation.
Age: Frustratingly nearly-twenty on a permanent basis.
Height: 6'5". And then there are the shoes he typically wears. The boy is huge.
Build: Well, uh, tall. REALLY FREAKING TALL. And then on top of that, he has a rather broad chest and shoulders to match. His limbs and hands and feet are rather long, and altogether he gives off an impression of being both strapping and a bit stretched out.
Hair: Long from a general neglect of the idea of cutting it (which has made it pretty damn raspy-looking), and a light golden-blond, except for a rather heavy distribution of dull white streaks. These probably would just look like lighter bits of blond if he didn't have a terrible habit of pulling it back from his face very tightly, in a way that makes much of the visible hair before the ponytail appear mostly white. He's actually managed to tug his hairline back a quarter of an inch or so from years of this, and so he has a few little thin wisps that fall over his forehead unless he finds a way of pushing them back too.
Eyes: Grey.
Nationality: ...what do you even call somebody who was born in Hungary with a Romanian father of Austrian extraction and a Swiss-Italian mother? EUROPEAN, THAT'S WHAT.
Job: STAY TUNED, THIS IS WHERE THINGS START TO SHIFT FROM PREVIOUS VERSEBERT INCARNATIONS.
Personality: Bored, frivolous, calculating, clingy, a bit vain. He's actually managed to grow out of being his father's spoiled bb, somewhat, by finding ways of providing for himself, and he's terribly proud of figuring these out. Herbert's chief goal in existing is fighting off the crippling ennui that comes from not having any kind of meter running out on his life, which has ended up engendering one hell of a mindlessly hedonistic streak.
This hasn't prevented him from nevertheless coming off as rather jaded, though this was already in place when he lived- anyone would be bitter at finding out at age fifteen that their father would never be passing the family title down to them, and that on top of this they were doomed to succumbing to the streak of violent insanity that ran through their bloodline. Then, of course, there's the status he sees himself as having been "reduced to." But Herbert finds the idea of being gloomy about this for very long utterly pointless, and even if he's still somewhat naive about how people work, he'd really rather not end up like his morose, tormented father. Even a neverending cycle of decadence, frivolity, obsessing over fashion and more or less prostituting himself to mortals looking for a cheap thrill has to be better than one of walking around in graveyards and prophesying grimly about the future.
As a result, Herbert comes off as very constructed- he's spent years making sure his bearing and speech patterns and gestures are just so, and he's become pretty much inseparable from what was once just a put-on persona of a hypermasculine (for the time) dandy. He struts rather than walks, he carries himself with his shoulders thrust back and his chin high, he knows how to fence and write poetry. From a modern perspective he probably seems a bit effeminate, but as far as Herbert himself is concerned he just oozes manliness. He likes pretty things because he is no longer able to see firsthand if he himself is still beautiful- the mirror problem- and makes a careful effort to surround himself with pretty people and pretty objects. In this, however, he is not always successful. It's hard when you're basically living as a combination parasite/dreg of society.
It's not the best of existences, but otherwise he'd be mouldering away in a tomb somewhere, and who wants that?