App for Ilpromenade
PLAYER
✧ NAME: Arcadia
✧ LJ USERNAME: arcadiasilver
✧ CONTACT (EMAIL, AIM, MSN, PLURK, ETC.): ArcadiaSpheres @ Plurk
✧ CURRENT MUSE LIST: Kuchiki Rukia
CHARACTER
✧ NAME: Harry Blackstone Copperfield Dresden
✧ SERIES: The Dresden Files (book)
✧ HISTORY: Here, courtesy of the Dresden Files Wiki
✧ TIMELINE: Immediately after the last page of Changes, the most recent novel.
✧ PERSONALITY:
Harry's been called a lot of things: chauvinistic pig, idiot, thug, meddlesome wizard, busybody, boor, jerk, asshole, pain in the ass, trouble magnet, etc. But don't listen to those people, those are the people who want him dead. ...and some of his friends, too.
One of Harry's most distinguishing quirks (and the one that has nearly gotten him killed over and over and over) is his near pathological inability to not help or harm a woman in distress. It doesn't matter if its the hostess of one of the Fallen - yes, those Fallen - Valkyries in bullet proof vests, a villain that just had a gun pointed at his head, or a girl that is clearly trying to run a scam on him, Harry. Just. Can't. Say. No. Even as Harry readily admits its stupid and foolish, and in aiding these women, he's made himself critically vulnerable many times, there's something inside him that can't stand the idea of turning his back on someone who needs him. And its not just women, its children or any innocent. He wants to use his gifts as a wizard to help people to push back the darkness and chaos that normal human beings can't defend themselves against. The trolls, vampires, and dark wizards of the world had best steer clear of Chicago or Harry Dresden's gonna come knocking on your door. Oh, the irony of a wizard with a White Knight complex.
But don't mistake him for some gung-ho destroyer of evil and proliferator of all that's good and pure. That's Michael's job. Harry is more than aware that he's not a perfect person and a far, far cry from "good". Harry has a darkness inside him that he knows quite well and has nearly fallen prey to. He's done things that have horrified him after the fact, but were ultimately very necessary in the long run. He's been incredibly cruel to enemies who have begged mercy, he's killed, he's struck out at others in anger, he's taken pleasure in striking back at those who've hurt his friends. He's all too aware that, as a wizard - and a powerful one at that - he's got more than enough power to control the world around him. He can bend those around him to his will if he wished. It's one of the great burdens of his magic that he deals with every day. A very, very dark voice that revels in his power and capacity for destruction. And some of the times that he's fallen to this darkness and anger has caused Harry to go sinking into a pit of self-recrimination and disgust. The supreme irony is that, in knowing and acknowledging his own flaws and capacity for evil, Harry ends up being an even better person than those who believe themselves stainless and righteous.
But for as much as Harry has his darkness inside him, the human being Harry, not the wizard, has prevailed over some of the worst enemies he's ever faced. He's turned down the power to save his own life - a hexed belt that turns its wearer into a powerful werewolf - because he'd rather die as a human being than live under the incredibly addicting power of black magic and be a monster. His refusal of great power from the likes of Mab the Winter Queen of Faerie, the knowledge of a necromantic ritual that could literally turn him into a godling, the shade of a Fallen that lived inside his mind for many years is a testament to his will power and his moral standards.
However, if you ask anyone who knows Harry - enemy and ally alike - to name the one thing that distinguishes Chicago's only wizard in the phone book, it would be his mouth. Harry deals with all manner of stress, be it fear, anger, worry, or even just boredom, with snark. Be it gods, spirits, crime lords, vampire royalty, or the biggest and baddest beasts from the Nevernever, Harry firmly believes that the great powers of the world deserve to get their high horses shaken once in a while and he does so with glee and gusto. Mostly to his detriment, mind you. This all goes hand in hand with the fact that big, bad wizard Harry Dresden is a big, fat nerd. He will relay tidbits of wizardly advice in Yoda's voice, have deep and involved debates in the middle of gearing up for an invasion of a vampire lair on who in the party is what character from the Fellowship. He plays his world's version of Dungeons and Dragons for godsake!
✧ ABILITIES/POWERS: Because the list of all the spells and abilities Harry uses through the series would take a tremendous amount of time, I'm going to link a list here.
✧ TIME OF ARRIVAL: Dawn
✧ MASK DESIGN: This!
✧ PLACE OF SOLACE: His basement apartment in Chicago.
SAMPLES
✧ FIRST PERSON:
I'm Harry Blackstone Copperfield Dresden, Chicago's only wizard in the yellow pages.
I'm also dead.
It's almost disappointing, of all the big, bad and ugly things that I've pissed off in my life, the thing that takes me out is a sniper from a distance. I'm a wizard, isn't there some rule that I die taking down a dragon or some big, fiery demon as my hobbit friends look on in fear at my heroic sacrifice? And just before my date with Murphy, too. But what really is getting my newly deceased goat is the fact that, in the middle of the goold ol' light-at-the-end-of-the-tunnel, I wake up in the middle of a room that's not mine with a mask on my face and a...blank mirror in my room. Really, its just this murky, dark mirror that looks like Chucky is going to come out of any second.
No pearly gates or fiery pit? I'm a little insulted. I take out demons and fallen angels and all I get is the afterlife version of a bed and breakfast?
✧ THIRD PERSON:
Maybe its shock, because he barely felt the cold waters of Lake Michigan claim his body as he fell over the side of the Water Beetle. He didn't even feel the high caliber shot go straight through his heart. He was numb and confused the whole way through his death. Cassius' voice screaming DIE ALONE ringing through the last, struggling synapses as the blood loss and asphyxiation shut them down just before the soft whisper of a familiar woman's voice: Hush, now.
He didn't have time to really register who that voice belonged to, because he was currently falling out of a bed and onto a hard, wooden floor. If that weren't enough to confuse him, a slobbery, large tongue swiping at his face and a whine that sounded more in place for a Yorkie rather than his Dogasaurus Rex of a pet was just sending his brain scattering even further for any inkling of sense.
Pulling himself into a sitting position, Harry Dresden reached out and mindlessly petted Mouse's head as he wiped drool from his cheek. Blinking eyes against the stream of morning light drifting in from a window, the wizard wobbled to his feet (leaning on Mouse a little bit) and took a look around himself. Looking down, her looped a finger through the hole in his shirt where the bullet hole that ended his life stood away from the untouched flesh underneath. The cotton was stiff with dried red blood, as was his fleece-lined jacket.
"Stars and stones, I don't think I'm in Chicago anymore."
✧ NAME: Arcadia
✧ LJ USERNAME: arcadiasilver
✧ CONTACT (EMAIL, AIM, MSN, PLURK, ETC.): ArcadiaSpheres @ Plurk
✧ CURRENT MUSE LIST: Kuchiki Rukia
CHARACTER
✧ NAME: Harry Blackstone Copperfield Dresden
✧ SERIES: The Dresden Files (book)
✧ HISTORY: Here, courtesy of the Dresden Files Wiki
✧ TIMELINE: Immediately after the last page of Changes, the most recent novel.
✧ PERSONALITY:
Harry's been called a lot of things: chauvinistic pig, idiot, thug, meddlesome wizard, busybody, boor, jerk, asshole, pain in the ass, trouble magnet, etc. But don't listen to those people, those are the people who want him dead. ...and some of his friends, too.
One of Harry's most distinguishing quirks (and the one that has nearly gotten him killed over and over and over) is his near pathological inability to not help or harm a woman in distress. It doesn't matter if its the hostess of one of the Fallen - yes, those Fallen - Valkyries in bullet proof vests, a villain that just had a gun pointed at his head, or a girl that is clearly trying to run a scam on him, Harry. Just. Can't. Say. No. Even as Harry readily admits its stupid and foolish, and in aiding these women, he's made himself critically vulnerable many times, there's something inside him that can't stand the idea of turning his back on someone who needs him. And its not just women, its children or any innocent. He wants to use his gifts as a wizard to help people to push back the darkness and chaos that normal human beings can't defend themselves against. The trolls, vampires, and dark wizards of the world had best steer clear of Chicago or Harry Dresden's gonna come knocking on your door. Oh, the irony of a wizard with a White Knight complex.
But don't mistake him for some gung-ho destroyer of evil and proliferator of all that's good and pure. That's Michael's job. Harry is more than aware that he's not a perfect person and a far, far cry from "good". Harry has a darkness inside him that he knows quite well and has nearly fallen prey to. He's done things that have horrified him after the fact, but were ultimately very necessary in the long run. He's been incredibly cruel to enemies who have begged mercy, he's killed, he's struck out at others in anger, he's taken pleasure in striking back at those who've hurt his friends. He's all too aware that, as a wizard - and a powerful one at that - he's got more than enough power to control the world around him. He can bend those around him to his will if he wished. It's one of the great burdens of his magic that he deals with every day. A very, very dark voice that revels in his power and capacity for destruction. And some of the times that he's fallen to this darkness and anger has caused Harry to go sinking into a pit of self-recrimination and disgust. The supreme irony is that, in knowing and acknowledging his own flaws and capacity for evil, Harry ends up being an even better person than those who believe themselves stainless and righteous.
But for as much as Harry has his darkness inside him, the human being Harry, not the wizard, has prevailed over some of the worst enemies he's ever faced. He's turned down the power to save his own life - a hexed belt that turns its wearer into a powerful werewolf - because he'd rather die as a human being than live under the incredibly addicting power of black magic and be a monster. His refusal of great power from the likes of Mab the Winter Queen of Faerie, the knowledge of a necromantic ritual that could literally turn him into a godling, the shade of a Fallen that lived inside his mind for many years is a testament to his will power and his moral standards.
However, if you ask anyone who knows Harry - enemy and ally alike - to name the one thing that distinguishes Chicago's only wizard in the phone book, it would be his mouth. Harry deals with all manner of stress, be it fear, anger, worry, or even just boredom, with snark. Be it gods, spirits, crime lords, vampire royalty, or the biggest and baddest beasts from the Nevernever, Harry firmly believes that the great powers of the world deserve to get their high horses shaken once in a while and he does so with glee and gusto. Mostly to his detriment, mind you. This all goes hand in hand with the fact that big, bad wizard Harry Dresden is a big, fat nerd. He will relay tidbits of wizardly advice in Yoda's voice, have deep and involved debates in the middle of gearing up for an invasion of a vampire lair on who in the party is what character from the Fellowship. He plays his world's version of Dungeons and Dragons for godsake!
✧ ABILITIES/POWERS: Because the list of all the spells and abilities Harry uses through the series would take a tremendous amount of time, I'm going to link a list here.
✧ TIME OF ARRIVAL: Dawn
✧ MASK DESIGN: This!
✧ PLACE OF SOLACE: His basement apartment in Chicago.
SAMPLES
✧ FIRST PERSON:
I'm Harry Blackstone Copperfield Dresden, Chicago's only wizard in the yellow pages.
I'm also dead.
It's almost disappointing, of all the big, bad and ugly things that I've pissed off in my life, the thing that takes me out is a sniper from a distance. I'm a wizard, isn't there some rule that I die taking down a dragon or some big, fiery demon as my hobbit friends look on in fear at my heroic sacrifice? And just before my date with Murphy, too. But what really is getting my newly deceased goat is the fact that, in the middle of the goold ol' light-at-the-end-of-the-tunnel, I wake up in the middle of a room that's not mine with a mask on my face and a...blank mirror in my room. Really, its just this murky, dark mirror that looks like Chucky is going to come out of any second.
No pearly gates or fiery pit? I'm a little insulted. I take out demons and fallen angels and all I get is the afterlife version of a bed and breakfast?
✧ THIRD PERSON:
Maybe its shock, because he barely felt the cold waters of Lake Michigan claim his body as he fell over the side of the Water Beetle. He didn't even feel the high caliber shot go straight through his heart. He was numb and confused the whole way through his death. Cassius' voice screaming DIE ALONE ringing through the last, struggling synapses as the blood loss and asphyxiation shut them down just before the soft whisper of a familiar woman's voice: Hush, now.
He didn't have time to really register who that voice belonged to, because he was currently falling out of a bed and onto a hard, wooden floor. If that weren't enough to confuse him, a slobbery, large tongue swiping at his face and a whine that sounded more in place for a Yorkie rather than his Dogasaurus Rex of a pet was just sending his brain scattering even further for any inkling of sense.
Pulling himself into a sitting position, Harry Dresden reached out and mindlessly petted Mouse's head as he wiped drool from his cheek. Blinking eyes against the stream of morning light drifting in from a window, the wizard wobbled to his feet (leaning on Mouse a little bit) and took a look around himself. Looking down, her looped a finger through the hole in his shirt where the bullet hole that ended his life stood away from the untouched flesh underneath. The cotton was stiff with dried red blood, as was his fleece-lined jacket.
"Stars and stones, I don't think I'm in Chicago anymore."