Post by Victor Vandebosch on Sept 20, 2012 18:49:51 GMT -8
Original Character Application
Name: Victor Vandebosch. Slur the last bit together, it's one word and it's okay if you mumble.
Age: 37 and a summer's day.
Gender: Male
Place of Residence: Lives out of his shop - the 'Black Tulip' north of Riverside Street.
Type of Car: Victor is inordinately proud of his Lada Niva; the words he uses to describe it are 'rugged' 'beautiful' and 'efficient' while others might use more pejorative terms. He supposedly bought it from a friend in Canada a few years back - a look of deep sorrow that crosses his face when he relives the memory, as he is wont to do every other night, suggests there was more than the simple exchanging of money at the time.
Nevertheless Lebedeva - as he calls the car - is pretty effective at long drives in harsh terrain, and perfect for journeys between Greenvale and Walla Walla.
Occupation/Skills: Victor is a horticulturist. He specializes in growing and preparing rare flowers for weddings, divorces, funerals; you name it. He loves his work and spends most of his time in his gardens - both the interior ones inside of his shop, and the exterior ones fenced in and on top of the roof, where he grows his own food. He loves the hobby so much that he occasionally wonders around town planting flowers or checking out the 'health' of wildflowers. In short, you might describe him as a floromaniac.
Business isn't great in town, but he has achieved enough level of fame to sell flowers and plant oils to out-of-state customers, and this is apparently enough to get by. He has a fairly good knowledge of various associated disciplines - herbology, plant chemistry, and cuisine - but could not be expected to teach or help others learn such skills, and often makes mistakes that a novice with an education would avoid. As such, he is careful not to overplay his own knowledge and tends to listen when with an expert in the field.
Finally, he enjoys taking nature hikes and rambles, and is capable of identifying most edible mushrooms, berries, roots, and flowers and has some skill as a nature photographer... Though not quite so much as to be worthy of display at a gallery.
Appearance: Victor has perpetual rings under his eyes from his unusual hours of operation, slouches frequently, and coughs almost as much. His teeth are white save for the telltale pockmarks of a pipe smoker, and hekeeps on the shaving leaderboards cuts his sandy blond hair short and keeps his face relatively trim.
Standing at about 5'7, he doesn't seem to be particularly fit. Though he walks frequently and swims just as much, poor eating habits and long nights seem to have taken a toll on his physique. Though not overweight, his body might be described as soft if one is being generous and lazy if one is being accurate. He prefers thrift-store clothes because they're cheap, and is usually dressed in things slightly too large for him; only making him look more uncomfortable in his own skin.
His eyes are a mild blue that seem to focus past people whenever they are addressing him, and he favors drab colors that don't draw much attention to himself. He only seems to light up when talking about his work or the world around him, in which case he becomes animated and gestures wildly to accentuate his points - these fits of activity fade rapidly however, returning Victor to his quiet detachment.
Personality: Victor has been described as aloof and removed, but that's not quite it. Whenever he is talking to people, it's more as if he's caught in the headlights and simply staying still because he knows of no other option. He makes every effort to appear rugged and cool, but it becomes clear he's uncomfortable the longer such conversations progress.
When he does open up to people, his detatchedness becomes more natural and it becomes apparent that he relives memories quite frequently. It's very easy for him to see someone and recall something that happened years ago as if it were today, burying him in an ocean of recollection. His unfocused expressions are a result of him often being somewhere else entirely; and if one patiently reminds him where he is at the moment, he contributes far more naturally and organically.
This core of his personality seems to be a little shy, somewhat deadpan and with a great deal of kindness for others, but can easily be overlooked due to how easy it is to conflate his earlier brusqueness with lack of empathy.
People who like flowers, insects, and nature are going to score points with him - people who follow their 'passions', whatever those are, doubly so. He tends to favor pragmatism in day to day life, but believes there is a time where you have to start doing what you love - though when that time is...
History: Worked as a florist in Vancouver while he was getting a degree in Agricultural Chemistry. Dropped out of school and lived in Edmonton for a few years, before moving from place to place every other year; lived in most parts of Western Canada and the United States. Upon receiving a letter that his mother was undergoing chemotherapy, moved to Greenvale to be close to his parents - he tries to see them at least once every month, making the commute to Walla Walla as he does so.
His family is pretty set; a quick background search indicates that Vandebosch the Sr. apparently made some money on the stock market, and the four Vandebosch siblings - despite each having an image of carelessness - have been quietly sending their earnings back home and saving up. Although it's doubtful this rainy-day fund could be accessed solely by Victor, rumor has it that it's gotten pretty big - and that some of it is stored in silver bars, of which each Vandebosch sibling carries one as a reminder of family ties. Of course, that's pretty unlikely.
'Black Tulip' is named for a legendarily hard, likely impossible to cultivate strain of tulip; apparently, he got the idea from '... a friend' in Canada. Given how frequently he relives the story to acquaintances and the obvious emotion there, it's likely a certain lady he lived with for some time in his Canadian days; who was also seven years his senior. Vandebosch has remained tight-lipped on names, so her whereabouts today are rather hard to find out.
And the store itself? Open irregular hours - as Vandebosch says, it's open when it's open. He usually is in the store from sundown to sunrise, and takes callers then - if he isn't at the A&G getting a bite to eat. It's much harder to get ahold of him during the daytime, as he is either likely to be sleeping or roaming the countryside. Canny patrons will call in advance and get a set time - Victor is pretty punctual and is less likely to miss a set date.
A fan of old-time shaving, he has a good redwood-handled razor that he calls his own. Supposedly, if anyone shaves more flawlessly than he, he's staked the razor proper as a bet. Of course, that'll never happen - not like it'd have any use besides shaving, anyway. That'd be as likely as a guitar being used to bludgeon possible-monster-analogues to death!
He also enjoys smoking a pipe, usually loaded with the foulest and most bitter tobacco he can find. He believes it makes him look more rugged and sophisticated, though at the moment it seems more like it's edging him towards and early tracheotomy. If forced to smoke cigarettes, he prefers them unfiltered.
RP Sample:
"You know, pizza is the best food the world has to offer. Some people consider it a garbage food." The room was silent, the intended audience having nothing to contribute in return as the only sounds - of chewing and the occasional misty hiss of water against soil - hung still in the musty shop air.
"That isn't true of course; good pizza is like good mulch. Composed of a lot of things you wouldn't normally like, but in the end nice and healthy for you. And you can have it at any time, so you don't have to think about eating at all - it's just kind of there. Another responsibility avoided, you know?" Victor addressed the icelandic poppies warmly, perhaps expecting a response. Being poppies of course, they said nothing in return.
So Victor sang to his uncommunicative audience - a certain rock song by a certain artist who was certainly popular... A few decades back. He forgot the words halfway through and switched to humming, then whistling as the doorbell rang; indicating that someone had decided to browse for flowers at one after midnight. "Right, be right with you - welcome to the Black Tulip!"
-
More for posterity than anything else(or is it?). You'll definitely see me around the chatbox, at least!
Name: Victor Vandebosch. Slur the last bit together, it's one word and it's okay if you mumble.
Age: 37 and a summer's day.
Gender: Male
Place of Residence: Lives out of his shop - the 'Black Tulip' north of Riverside Street.
Type of Car: Victor is inordinately proud of his Lada Niva; the words he uses to describe it are 'rugged' 'beautiful' and 'efficient' while others might use more pejorative terms. He supposedly bought it from a friend in Canada a few years back - a look of deep sorrow that crosses his face when he relives the memory, as he is wont to do every other night, suggests there was more than the simple exchanging of money at the time.
Nevertheless Lebedeva - as he calls the car - is pretty effective at long drives in harsh terrain, and perfect for journeys between Greenvale and Walla Walla.
Occupation/Skills: Victor is a horticulturist. He specializes in growing and preparing rare flowers for weddings, divorces, funerals; you name it. He loves his work and spends most of his time in his gardens - both the interior ones inside of his shop, and the exterior ones fenced in and on top of the roof, where he grows his own food. He loves the hobby so much that he occasionally wonders around town planting flowers or checking out the 'health' of wildflowers. In short, you might describe him as a floromaniac.
Business isn't great in town, but he has achieved enough level of fame to sell flowers and plant oils to out-of-state customers, and this is apparently enough to get by. He has a fairly good knowledge of various associated disciplines - herbology, plant chemistry, and cuisine - but could not be expected to teach or help others learn such skills, and often makes mistakes that a novice with an education would avoid. As such, he is careful not to overplay his own knowledge and tends to listen when with an expert in the field.
Finally, he enjoys taking nature hikes and rambles, and is capable of identifying most edible mushrooms, berries, roots, and flowers and has some skill as a nature photographer... Though not quite so much as to be worthy of display at a gallery.
Appearance: Victor has perpetual rings under his eyes from his unusual hours of operation, slouches frequently, and coughs almost as much. His teeth are white save for the telltale pockmarks of a pipe smoker, and he
Standing at about 5'7, he doesn't seem to be particularly fit. Though he walks frequently and swims just as much, poor eating habits and long nights seem to have taken a toll on his physique. Though not overweight, his body might be described as soft if one is being generous and lazy if one is being accurate. He prefers thrift-store clothes because they're cheap, and is usually dressed in things slightly too large for him; only making him look more uncomfortable in his own skin.
His eyes are a mild blue that seem to focus past people whenever they are addressing him, and he favors drab colors that don't draw much attention to himself. He only seems to light up when talking about his work or the world around him, in which case he becomes animated and gestures wildly to accentuate his points - these fits of activity fade rapidly however, returning Victor to his quiet detachment.
Personality: Victor has been described as aloof and removed, but that's not quite it. Whenever he is talking to people, it's more as if he's caught in the headlights and simply staying still because he knows of no other option. He makes every effort to appear rugged and cool, but it becomes clear he's uncomfortable the longer such conversations progress.
When he does open up to people, his detatchedness becomes more natural and it becomes apparent that he relives memories quite frequently. It's very easy for him to see someone and recall something that happened years ago as if it were today, burying him in an ocean of recollection. His unfocused expressions are a result of him often being somewhere else entirely; and if one patiently reminds him where he is at the moment, he contributes far more naturally and organically.
This core of his personality seems to be a little shy, somewhat deadpan and with a great deal of kindness for others, but can easily be overlooked due to how easy it is to conflate his earlier brusqueness with lack of empathy.
People who like flowers, insects, and nature are going to score points with him - people who follow their 'passions', whatever those are, doubly so. He tends to favor pragmatism in day to day life, but believes there is a time where you have to start doing what you love - though when that time is...
History: Worked as a florist in Vancouver while he was getting a degree in Agricultural Chemistry. Dropped out of school and lived in Edmonton for a few years, before moving from place to place every other year; lived in most parts of Western Canada and the United States. Upon receiving a letter that his mother was undergoing chemotherapy, moved to Greenvale to be close to his parents - he tries to see them at least once every month, making the commute to Walla Walla as he does so.
His family is pretty set; a quick background search indicates that Vandebosch the Sr. apparently made some money on the stock market, and the four Vandebosch siblings - despite each having an image of carelessness - have been quietly sending their earnings back home and saving up. Although it's doubtful this rainy-day fund could be accessed solely by Victor, rumor has it that it's gotten pretty big - and that some of it is stored in silver bars, of which each Vandebosch sibling carries one as a reminder of family ties. Of course, that's pretty unlikely.
'Black Tulip' is named for a legendarily hard, likely impossible to cultivate strain of tulip; apparently, he got the idea from '... a friend' in Canada. Given how frequently he relives the story to acquaintances and the obvious emotion there, it's likely a certain lady he lived with for some time in his Canadian days; who was also seven years his senior. Vandebosch has remained tight-lipped on names, so her whereabouts today are rather hard to find out.
And the store itself? Open irregular hours - as Vandebosch says, it's open when it's open. He usually is in the store from sundown to sunrise, and takes callers then - if he isn't at the A&G getting a bite to eat. It's much harder to get ahold of him during the daytime, as he is either likely to be sleeping or roaming the countryside. Canny patrons will call in advance and get a set time - Victor is pretty punctual and is less likely to miss a set date.
A fan of old-time shaving, he has a good redwood-handled razor that he calls his own. Supposedly, if anyone shaves more flawlessly than he, he's staked the razor proper as a bet. Of course, that'll never happen - not like it'd have any use besides shaving, anyway. That'd be as likely as a guitar being used to bludgeon possible-monster-analogues to death!
He also enjoys smoking a pipe, usually loaded with the foulest and most bitter tobacco he can find. He believes it makes him look more rugged and sophisticated, though at the moment it seems more like it's edging him towards and early tracheotomy. If forced to smoke cigarettes, he prefers them unfiltered.
RP Sample:
"You know, pizza is the best food the world has to offer. Some people consider it a garbage food." The room was silent, the intended audience having nothing to contribute in return as the only sounds - of chewing and the occasional misty hiss of water against soil - hung still in the musty shop air.
"That isn't true of course; good pizza is like good mulch. Composed of a lot of things you wouldn't normally like, but in the end nice and healthy for you. And you can have it at any time, so you don't have to think about eating at all - it's just kind of there. Another responsibility avoided, you know?" Victor addressed the icelandic poppies warmly, perhaps expecting a response. Being poppies of course, they said nothing in return.
So Victor sang to his uncommunicative audience - a certain rock song by a certain artist who was certainly popular... A few decades back. He forgot the words halfway through and switched to humming, then whistling as the doorbell rang; indicating that someone had decided to browse for flowers at one after midnight. "Right, be right with you - welcome to the Black Tulip!"
-
More for posterity than anything else(or is it?). You'll definitely see me around the chatbox, at least!