Gakuto App
OOC Info:
Name: Duckie
Journal: boldsirrobin
Email: duckie.nyaATgmailDOTcom
AIM: Duckie Nya
Character Info
Character: Mukahi Gakuto
What do they look like now: Gakuto never actually got any taller after middle-school -- he barely tops 5'3" (160cm) -- a fact he mostly resigned himself to in high-school. Mostly. But don't bring it up. The biggest change to Gakuto's appearance is his hair: it's pink. Cut in a cute bob style -- neck length with side-swept bangs -- that gives him more style options than his 'do in middle-school, the color was pretty much an accident. Originally he had planned to dye his hair purple for a party, but the stylist screwed up royally. And, after a tantrum, and having the woman fired, he decided he liked it, so he kept it. For now, at least. He thinks maybe he'll try electric blue next time.
The regulars jacket he appropriated after middle-school still fits him. He's not sure whether or not that's a good thing.
Their current job: Professional party guest, world touring dilettante. Japan's very own version of Paris Hilton; famous for being rich and willing to flaunt it. 'Supervises' a high fashion make-up brand whenever he feels like putting in a 'hard day's work'; basically he approves new items and colors for the line, and vetoes things that are just too awful to live. Which is... pretty much everything. But, thanks to his input, the brand is one of the most popular in the Japanese fashion industry and the standard for pretty much every runway between Tokyo and Milan.
Current family they may be living with: His pet Papillon, Spike. Spike is fluffy and white, with tan points, and a collar collection larger than most people's entire wardrobes. She's a spoiled rotten princess and knows it. Gakuto insists that the name 'Spike' isn't at all ironic, and that she's quite a good little guard dog.
Apartment size/requested address: Penthouse, top floor
History: After high-school Gakuto attended a prestigious University at his father's prodding, studying for a degree in business. And, much to the surprise of everyone involved, considering how much time he spent in school doing anything but school-work, he actually graduated.
He then proceeded to do absolutely nothing with his degree, instead living off an expensive trust fund and the good graces of an overly indulgent mother. He played tennis whenever he felt like it, but never seriously. He took a few classes on whatever took his interest at the time, World History, geology, flower arranging, silver-smithing, but nothing ever stuck. He did some minor face work for a camera company and thought about becoming a model full-time. But then three seperate agencies told him that he'd be the perfect model for whatever brand, if only he were a little taller... And that's just adding injury to insult, right there.
So, in minor rebellion, and having pretty much nothing better to do with his time, he He adopted the lifestyle of his college peers, partying late into the night and sleeping well into the afternoon. The paparazzi latched onto his name, son of blah blah blah, friendly with all the hottest young stars etc, and made him into the latest media darling. What Gakuto was doing This Week was the subject of headlines all over the country. Was he really dating that pop-star? Had he actually spent a quarter of a million yen on one outfit? Media hounds buzzed around him like flies wherever he went.
And he liked it. Being a minor celebrity was definitely a better option to sitting behind a desk running some company or another, and anyway, the perks were way better.
He started working with the Cerise cosmetics line after his father decided he needed to get a job Or Else. Of course, demoing products and supervising production for a make-up company probably wasn't what dear old dad had in mind. In any given week, Gakuto probably works one or two days; he mostly drops in when he feels like it, and only puts in an actual day of work when the new season line-ups are in the works. Oh, and he attends fashion shows as a company rep, but that doesn't really count as work does it?
Sample IC tag:
At some point in the last hour, the top floor of the complex had become a battlefield. A half a dozen moving men in crisp grey uniforms towed furniture around mine-fields made of carefully labelled boxes, overly-taped boxes scribbled on in red ink, a crate labelled 'FRAGILE', and other bits of stuff that seemed to have sprung up out of nowhere. Standing in the center of the chaos, directing traffic, was Satan. At least, he was Satan as far as the movers were concerned.
Satan was relatively short, with soft pink hair, dressed all in black and red with a fluffy little dog under one arm. He had a voice to rival even the loudest of sports referee -- and he used it.
"No, NO! Don't drop that! What does your company pay you for? What am I paying you -- PUT THAT DOWN!" The tiny Satan flailed his free arm in the direction of a different mover, one who had apparently decided that moving one of the box stacks, to make moving furniture in easier, was a good idea. He was very, very mistaken. Satan -- whose name wasn't actually Satan, but at the moment, who the really cared -- pinched the bridge of his nose and stared at the ceiling, "Who the hell is in charge here?"
Name: Duckie
Journal: boldsirrobin
Email: duckie.nyaATgmailDOTcom
AIM: Duckie Nya
Character Info
Character: Mukahi Gakuto
What do they look like now: Gakuto never actually got any taller after middle-school -- he barely tops 5'3" (160cm) -- a fact he mostly resigned himself to in high-school. Mostly. But don't bring it up. The biggest change to Gakuto's appearance is his hair: it's pink. Cut in a cute bob style -- neck length with side-swept bangs -- that gives him more style options than his 'do in middle-school, the color was pretty much an accident. Originally he had planned to dye his hair purple for a party, but the stylist screwed up royally. And, after a tantrum, and having the woman fired, he decided he liked it, so he kept it. For now, at least. He thinks maybe he'll try electric blue next time.
The regulars jacket he appropriated after middle-school still fits him. He's not sure whether or not that's a good thing.
Their current job: Professional party guest, world touring dilettante. Japan's very own version of Paris Hilton; famous for being rich and willing to flaunt it. 'Supervises' a high fashion make-up brand whenever he feels like putting in a 'hard day's work'; basically he approves new items and colors for the line, and vetoes things that are just too awful to live. Which is... pretty much everything. But, thanks to his input, the brand is one of the most popular in the Japanese fashion industry and the standard for pretty much every runway between Tokyo and Milan.
Current family they may be living with: His pet Papillon, Spike. Spike is fluffy and white, with tan points, and a collar collection larger than most people's entire wardrobes. She's a spoiled rotten princess and knows it. Gakuto insists that the name 'Spike' isn't at all ironic, and that she's quite a good little guard dog.
Apartment size/requested address: Penthouse, top floor
History: After high-school Gakuto attended a prestigious University at his father's prodding, studying for a degree in business. And, much to the surprise of everyone involved, considering how much time he spent in school doing anything but school-work, he actually graduated.
He then proceeded to do absolutely nothing with his degree, instead living off an expensive trust fund and the good graces of an overly indulgent mother. He played tennis whenever he felt like it, but never seriously. He took a few classes on whatever took his interest at the time, World History, geology, flower arranging, silver-smithing, but nothing ever stuck. He did some minor face work for a camera company and thought about becoming a model full-time. But then three seperate agencies told him that he'd be the perfect model for whatever brand, if only he were a little taller... And that's just adding injury to insult, right there.
So, in minor rebellion, and having pretty much nothing better to do with his time, he He adopted the lifestyle of his college peers, partying late into the night and sleeping well into the afternoon. The paparazzi latched onto his name, son of blah blah blah, friendly with all the hottest young stars etc, and made him into the latest media darling. What Gakuto was doing This Week was the subject of headlines all over the country. Was he really dating that pop-star? Had he actually spent a quarter of a million yen on one outfit? Media hounds buzzed around him like flies wherever he went.
And he liked it. Being a minor celebrity was definitely a better option to sitting behind a desk running some company or another, and anyway, the perks were way better.
He started working with the Cerise cosmetics line after his father decided he needed to get a job Or Else. Of course, demoing products and supervising production for a make-up company probably wasn't what dear old dad had in mind. In any given week, Gakuto probably works one or two days; he mostly drops in when he feels like it, and only puts in an actual day of work when the new season line-ups are in the works. Oh, and he attends fashion shows as a company rep, but that doesn't really count as work does it?
Sample IC tag:
At some point in the last hour, the top floor of the complex had become a battlefield. A half a dozen moving men in crisp grey uniforms towed furniture around mine-fields made of carefully labelled boxes, overly-taped boxes scribbled on in red ink, a crate labelled 'FRAGILE', and other bits of stuff that seemed to have sprung up out of nowhere. Standing in the center of the chaos, directing traffic, was Satan. At least, he was Satan as far as the movers were concerned.
Satan was relatively short, with soft pink hair, dressed all in black and red with a fluffy little dog under one arm. He had a voice to rival even the loudest of sports referee -- and he used it.
"No, NO! Don't drop that! What does your company pay you for? What am I paying you -- PUT THAT DOWN!" The tiny Satan flailed his free arm in the direction of a different mover, one who had apparently decided that moving one of the box stacks, to make moving furniture in easier, was a good idea. He was very, very mistaken. Satan -- whose name wasn't actually Satan, but at the moment, who the really cared -- pinched the bridge of his nose and stared at the ceiling, "Who the hell is in charge here?"