application
OOC:
Name: Gee
Are you over 16?: NO 8( Yes, lmao.
Personal LJ: aseashell
Email: barbedwirerose@hotmail.co.uk
Timezone: GMT
Other contact: AIM: loveslostlabours
Characters already in the game: N/A
How did you find us?: app_this_plz
IC:
Character name: Kyouya Ootori
Fandom: Ouran High School Host Club
Timeline: Post-anime
Age: 17
~*Magical*~ abilities and strengths: Hax intellect skillz or… something. Also the ability to scare small children when he’s woken before he wants to be.
How would they use their abilities?: He could chess you out of hyperspace. No, no not really. Well, yes really, but that isn’t the point. Gaining merit will be the aim of his game: whether monetary or otherwise, he’ll do essentially whatever is intellectually necessary to achieve it. Whether this means snooping around and picking out frauds for a healthy sum, sneak photography of local hot males with photos sold for profit, or even begrudgingly going along with Tamaki’s latest whim to open up a vast and beatific… commoner hot dog stand. This one will not be poor for long.
Appearance: Black-haired, bespectacled and 177.8cm exactly. Kyouya’s face is capable of a range of expressions, from Serene Smile (Never Genuine)™ to I Will Kill You In Your Sleep, he’s not visibly emotionally defunct. Almost always immaculately turned out, unless you happen to get him out of bed before getting him out of bed is due. Then it’s difficult to tell whether or not he’s immaculate: you’re too busy running. (As a general rule though, early in the morning, he’s not.) Lean build, brown eyes, there really isn't anything particularly remarkable to say about him in the looks department.
Background/Personality: Kyouya Ootori was born the third son of the Ootori family, a veritable powerhouse in the field of medicine, with influences not only in Japan but branching widely out across the world. With two elder brothers, both already working at exceptional levels towards maintaining the company once their father retired, Kyouya was left to dutifully trail behind, unable to develop his own strengths and abilities for fear of out-doing his brothers. He was the third son with no prospects for heirship, and that was just the way things were. Happiness didn’t matter. An artist resigned to painting his masterpiece within a ready-built frame was the way Kyouya thought of it. The art might be magnificent, but it could not exceed its commissioned confines.
Young life consisted of staying top of the class, doing as he was told, and doing what was beneficial for the family. Friends were something he neither had nor wanted: instead he had people, and their uses. He was more than happy to accept an invitation to the daughter of the CEO of a big shot entertainment company’s birthday, would graciously sit with the Toyota president’s son for lunch. Kyouya, even as a young boy in middle school, knew how to use people. One factor Kyouya prides himself on is his ability to read other people like a book without them ever being able to do the same to him: like those sunglasses that reflect your face back at you, and don’t let you see what lies behind.
And then came Tamaki Suoh. Worst day of his life, he was convinced a few days later. Tamaki was hyperactive, unwittingly obnoxious, seemingly terribly ignorant and, perhaps worst of all, constantly happy. He had everything: a bastard child drawn instantly into a life of extravagance, automatically the heir to his father’s company with no strings attached. He had everything Kyouya had to work so hard to never achieve. At first, Kyouya could bear it and found himself running around like a crazed beast, trying to pre-empt what the blond prince could possibly want next. He couldn’t read him, couldn’t understand him like he could the shallow whims of the aristocracy. It was infuriating. Eventually, Kyouya snapped. And with that and the chiding he received from the ditzy boy for his own glaringly obvious neglect to care over and above his family, for himself, Kyouya was freed and made his first real friend.
This also acted as the grand unveiling of his True Self. More fool Tamaki.
The Host Club was formed, and Kyouya, newly-appointed Vice President, took its finances into hand. There’s little room for doubt that without this the Host Club would long be a memory caught on the tips of swooning girl’s tongues. Why, you might be inclined to ask? Well, that would be because of Kyouya’s uncanny ability to make a profit out of just about anything. Give him a camera, he’ll make you a movie. Give him a movie, he’ll make you a million. Give him a pencil? God knows, somehow you will find yourself at least 10 credits better off. Kyouya can put on a show; he can smile for the audience, be charming for the clientele, and even manage to uphold civility to the most frivolous of young ladies. Give him a situation that might even in the slightest instance earn him a profit, monetary or otherwise, and he will take your situation, run it through his merit grinder and lap up the sweet nectar that comes out the other end.
If you give him something that’ll help neither him nor the person who’ll give him the great payout of interest, though, the outcome might not be so favourable. Hark, what is this, the sound of a small girl crying after a nasty knocked-kneed nuisance stole her lollipop in the playground? What a shame. I’ll just be moving on, now, I’ve things to do. That girl happens to be the daughter of a local well-moneyed family, though? Well hello there, little girl, take this convenient coca-cola flavoured Chuppa Chup™ I found in my pocket while I wander over there and make sure that cruel little boy realises the errors of his ways. There’s a fine line between goodness and vested interest, and Kyouya likes to think he traverses that line for the cause of personal gain quite comfortably, thank you very much.
Of course, this is not actually the case. The Demon King of the Low Blood Pressure, menace of early risers everywhere, is not quite as cool and calculating as he might like to believe. Not that he’d let anyone know it, but anybody with a keen eye might notice that once every blue moon or so, he develops a tendency toward good deeds. More often than not, they will be very heavily disguised behind veils of Benefit and Merit, but Kyouya will and has been known to do things to aid his friends; either to protect them from outside influence or, in some cases, to protect them from themselves. One example is that of the Kyouya Senpai This Would Be Declared Statutory Rape Were We In Any Other Country but Japan in which Kyouya, half naked and face free of spectacles, mounted Haruhi out of the blue. This occured shortly after she gave the Host Club a scare in her attempt to fight off large male bullies who planned on doing much the same thing to a couple of defenceless girls and was not a display of an overactive libido (something it is doubtful he actually possesses) on Kyouya’s part, but instead an attempt to have Haruhi understand that she is only female, and therefore biologically weaker than at least 30% of the human race. Not only was this a message for Haruhi, to avoid harm at the hands of other less profit-minded men, but also an aid for his best friend, Tamaki, who he knew would never do such a thing himself, and who Haruhi had hurt the most of all due to her rash actions. (This display of warped kindness was however discovered by Haruhi almost immediately, who noted rather bluntly that Kyouya wouldn’t actually sleep with her because it would bring him no merit. This caused him some minor amount of amusement.)
It’s dangerous to make an enemy of Kyouya Ootori.Even without the influence of his family name, he will quickly and easily find a way to dismantle every hope you ever had and rub the remains, pointedly, in your face. A friend, though? Make a friend of Kyouya, and you are one of the safest people around.
Have you read up on how the game works?: But of course. FlamingFerret, missions for money, being a layabout and living off mom (or the rest of your cast, if mom cannot be immediately located), or doing questionable things in order to earn money that is, just as questionably, not yours. I love this goddamn game already.
1st person sample: [tap, tap, tap…
tap, tap, tap…
and then there’s a new face on screen, a pen just visible tapping at the table in the foreground. the face looks calm, composed, and definitely not panicking, and for a while its attention is drawn down and away, ignoring the transmission altogether. then the dark haired, bespectacled young man on the other side of the screen stirs, takes a slow breath in - sounding notably resigned - and raises his head to face the music.]
I am to understand that I am currently residing aboard one SS Thor, a space station travelling through the universe, after my home planet came to be destroyed. [his tone of voice says he isn’t buying any of it, but that he’ll be polite about it anyway in the vain hope this isn’t another of the Host Club’s exasperating ideas of a joke] As plausible as this isn’t, the situation seems unlikely to resolve itself immediately, and as such this acts as good a time as any to make an introduction.
My name is Kyouya Ootori, and providing you are neither Tamaki Suoh, Kaoru Hitachiin or Hikaru Hitachiin, I look forward to getting along well with you in the future.
3rd person sample: It's tough work, being the only intellectual hand in a rabble of extravagant toy boys for the fickle girls of the aristocracy. Rewarding, of course - never a day goes by where he doesn't extract monetary gain from a vast number of doting female individuals - but it has it's challenges. First, there is the constant and considerable threat of bankrupcy that arrives almost daily on the wind of Tamaki's latest wild idea. Then, not to be forgotten, the varying degrees of trouble each and every member seems intent and perfectly capable of landing themselves in.
Something about today, however, topped them all. For today, not only had he woken long before any time he might consider a godly hour, but he was also in outer space. Or so he was told.
'Don't Panic', the first words he found himself looking at after arriving in this strange place, were not what he had wanted to see. 'Don't Panic' was something for young children to be told on the occasion of their first fire drill. 'Don't Panic' was something middle aged women threw at one another after surviving the latest bout of 'Oh Dear, I Lost My Purse'. 'Don't Panic' was not something he needed to be told. Kyouya Ootori, third son of the powerful Ootori family, did not panic.
Gathering himself together hadn't taken too long, a simple matter of finding his way to his allocated accommodation and settling himself inside, and the next half an hour or so had been spent familiarising himself with his surroundings through means of the obnoxious book. Time in which he had carefully avoided glancing at the pointless phrase printed across it's cover, for threat of irritating himself further. Even while tired, this was a simple enough task... uninspiring, but simple enough. Finally, when everything was understood and he felt somewhat more comfortable at least in his knowledge of the situation, he resigned himself to the time having come to announcing his arrival on the good SS Thor.
Kyouya opened up the book again, pen tapping non-commitally at the table. The video feed was switched on. The tapping continued. He sat for a good few moments thinking wistfully of coffee.
Procrastination is something one can only undertake for so long, and for Kyouya that had undoubtedly long been and gone. Taking a deep, resigned breath, Kyouya turned his face and readied his thoughts - it was time to set the ball rolling.
"I am to understand that I am currently residing aboard..."
Questions?:
Did you put your characters name and fandom in the subject: Yes. Yes I did.
Name: Gee
Are you over 16?: NO 8( Yes, lmao.
Personal LJ: aseashell
Email: barbedwirerose@hotmail.co.uk
Timezone: GMT
Other contact: AIM: loveslostlabours
Characters already in the game: N/A
How did you find us?: app_this_plz
IC:
Character name: Kyouya Ootori
Fandom: Ouran High School Host Club
Timeline: Post-anime
Age: 17
~*Magical*~ abilities and strengths: Hax intellect skillz or… something. Also the ability to scare small children when he’s woken before he wants to be.
How would they use their abilities?: He could chess you out of hyperspace. No, no not really. Well, yes really, but that isn’t the point. Gaining merit will be the aim of his game: whether monetary or otherwise, he’ll do essentially whatever is intellectually necessary to achieve it. Whether this means snooping around and picking out frauds for a healthy sum, sneak photography of local hot males with photos sold for profit, or even begrudgingly going along with Tamaki’s latest whim to open up a vast and beatific… commoner hot dog stand. This one will not be poor for long.
Appearance: Black-haired, bespectacled and 177.8cm exactly. Kyouya’s face is capable of a range of expressions, from Serene Smile (Never Genuine)™ to I Will Kill You In Your Sleep, he’s not visibly emotionally defunct. Almost always immaculately turned out, unless you happen to get him out of bed before getting him out of bed is due. Then it’s difficult to tell whether or not he’s immaculate: you’re too busy running. (As a general rule though, early in the morning, he’s not.) Lean build, brown eyes, there really isn't anything particularly remarkable to say about him in the looks department.
Background/Personality: Kyouya Ootori was born the third son of the Ootori family, a veritable powerhouse in the field of medicine, with influences not only in Japan but branching widely out across the world. With two elder brothers, both already working at exceptional levels towards maintaining the company once their father retired, Kyouya was left to dutifully trail behind, unable to develop his own strengths and abilities for fear of out-doing his brothers. He was the third son with no prospects for heirship, and that was just the way things were. Happiness didn’t matter. An artist resigned to painting his masterpiece within a ready-built frame was the way Kyouya thought of it. The art might be magnificent, but it could not exceed its commissioned confines.
Young life consisted of staying top of the class, doing as he was told, and doing what was beneficial for the family. Friends were something he neither had nor wanted: instead he had people, and their uses. He was more than happy to accept an invitation to the daughter of the CEO of a big shot entertainment company’s birthday, would graciously sit with the Toyota president’s son for lunch. Kyouya, even as a young boy in middle school, knew how to use people. One factor Kyouya prides himself on is his ability to read other people like a book without them ever being able to do the same to him: like those sunglasses that reflect your face back at you, and don’t let you see what lies behind.
And then came Tamaki Suoh. Worst day of his life, he was convinced a few days later. Tamaki was hyperactive, unwittingly obnoxious, seemingly terribly ignorant and, perhaps worst of all, constantly happy. He had everything: a bastard child drawn instantly into a life of extravagance, automatically the heir to his father’s company with no strings attached. He had everything Kyouya had to work so hard to never achieve. At first, Kyouya could bear it and found himself running around like a crazed beast, trying to pre-empt what the blond prince could possibly want next. He couldn’t read him, couldn’t understand him like he could the shallow whims of the aristocracy. It was infuriating. Eventually, Kyouya snapped. And with that and the chiding he received from the ditzy boy for his own glaringly obvious neglect to care over and above his family, for himself, Kyouya was freed and made his first real friend.
This also acted as the grand unveiling of his True Self. More fool Tamaki.
The Host Club was formed, and Kyouya, newly-appointed Vice President, took its finances into hand. There’s little room for doubt that without this the Host Club would long be a memory caught on the tips of swooning girl’s tongues. Why, you might be inclined to ask? Well, that would be because of Kyouya’s uncanny ability to make a profit out of just about anything. Give him a camera, he’ll make you a movie. Give him a movie, he’ll make you a million. Give him a pencil? God knows, somehow you will find yourself at least 10 credits better off. Kyouya can put on a show; he can smile for the audience, be charming for the clientele, and even manage to uphold civility to the most frivolous of young ladies. Give him a situation that might even in the slightest instance earn him a profit, monetary or otherwise, and he will take your situation, run it through his merit grinder and lap up the sweet nectar that comes out the other end.
If you give him something that’ll help neither him nor the person who’ll give him the great payout of interest, though, the outcome might not be so favourable. Hark, what is this, the sound of a small girl crying after a nasty knocked-kneed nuisance stole her lollipop in the playground? What a shame. I’ll just be moving on, now, I’ve things to do. That girl happens to be the daughter of a local well-moneyed family, though? Well hello there, little girl, take this convenient coca-cola flavoured Chuppa Chup™ I found in my pocket while I wander over there and make sure that cruel little boy realises the errors of his ways. There’s a fine line between goodness and vested interest, and Kyouya likes to think he traverses that line for the cause of personal gain quite comfortably, thank you very much.
Of course, this is not actually the case. The Demon King of the Low Blood Pressure, menace of early risers everywhere, is not quite as cool and calculating as he might like to believe. Not that he’d let anyone know it, but anybody with a keen eye might notice that once every blue moon or so, he develops a tendency toward good deeds. More often than not, they will be very heavily disguised behind veils of Benefit and Merit, but Kyouya will and has been known to do things to aid his friends; either to protect them from outside influence or, in some cases, to protect them from themselves. One example is that of the Kyouya Senpai This Would Be Declared Statutory Rape Were We In Any Other Country but Japan in which Kyouya, half naked and face free of spectacles, mounted Haruhi out of the blue. This occured shortly after she gave the Host Club a scare in her attempt to fight off large male bullies who planned on doing much the same thing to a couple of defenceless girls and was not a display of an overactive libido (something it is doubtful he actually possesses) on Kyouya’s part, but instead an attempt to have Haruhi understand that she is only female, and therefore biologically weaker than at least 30% of the human race. Not only was this a message for Haruhi, to avoid harm at the hands of other less profit-minded men, but also an aid for his best friend, Tamaki, who he knew would never do such a thing himself, and who Haruhi had hurt the most of all due to her rash actions. (This display of warped kindness was however discovered by Haruhi almost immediately, who noted rather bluntly that Kyouya wouldn’t actually sleep with her because it would bring him no merit. This caused him some minor amount of amusement.)
It’s dangerous to make an enemy of Kyouya Ootori.Even without the influence of his family name, he will quickly and easily find a way to dismantle every hope you ever had and rub the remains, pointedly, in your face. A friend, though? Make a friend of Kyouya, and you are one of the safest people around.
Have you read up on how the game works?: But of course. FlamingFerret, missions for money, being a layabout and living off mom (or the rest of your cast, if mom cannot be immediately located), or doing questionable things in order to earn money that is, just as questionably, not yours. I love this goddamn game already.
1st person sample: [tap, tap, tap…
tap, tap, tap…
and then there’s a new face on screen, a pen just visible tapping at the table in the foreground. the face looks calm, composed, and definitely not panicking, and for a while its attention is drawn down and away, ignoring the transmission altogether. then the dark haired, bespectacled young man on the other side of the screen stirs, takes a slow breath in - sounding notably resigned - and raises his head to face the music.]
I am to understand that I am currently residing aboard one SS Thor, a space station travelling through the universe, after my home planet came to be destroyed. [his tone of voice says he isn’t buying any of it, but that he’ll be polite about it anyway in the vain hope this isn’t another of the Host Club’s exasperating ideas of a joke] As plausible as this isn’t, the situation seems unlikely to resolve itself immediately, and as such this acts as good a time as any to make an introduction.
My name is Kyouya Ootori, and providing you are neither Tamaki Suoh, Kaoru Hitachiin or Hikaru Hitachiin, I look forward to getting along well with you in the future.
3rd person sample: It's tough work, being the only intellectual hand in a rabble of extravagant toy boys for the fickle girls of the aristocracy. Rewarding, of course - never a day goes by where he doesn't extract monetary gain from a vast number of doting female individuals - but it has it's challenges. First, there is the constant and considerable threat of bankrupcy that arrives almost daily on the wind of Tamaki's latest wild idea. Then, not to be forgotten, the varying degrees of trouble each and every member seems intent and perfectly capable of landing themselves in.
Something about today, however, topped them all. For today, not only had he woken long before any time he might consider a godly hour, but he was also in outer space. Or so he was told.
'Don't Panic', the first words he found himself looking at after arriving in this strange place, were not what he had wanted to see. 'Don't Panic' was something for young children to be told on the occasion of their first fire drill. 'Don't Panic' was something middle aged women threw at one another after surviving the latest bout of 'Oh Dear, I Lost My Purse'. 'Don't Panic' was not something he needed to be told. Kyouya Ootori, third son of the powerful Ootori family, did not panic.
Gathering himself together hadn't taken too long, a simple matter of finding his way to his allocated accommodation and settling himself inside, and the next half an hour or so had been spent familiarising himself with his surroundings through means of the obnoxious book. Time in which he had carefully avoided glancing at the pointless phrase printed across it's cover, for threat of irritating himself further. Even while tired, this was a simple enough task... uninspiring, but simple enough. Finally, when everything was understood and he felt somewhat more comfortable at least in his knowledge of the situation, he resigned himself to the time having come to announcing his arrival on the good SS Thor.
Kyouya opened up the book again, pen tapping non-commitally at the table. The video feed was switched on. The tapping continued. He sat for a good few moments thinking wistfully of coffee.
Procrastination is something one can only undertake for so long, and for Kyouya that had undoubtedly long been and gone. Taking a deep, resigned breath, Kyouya turned his face and readied his thoughts - it was time to set the ball rolling.
"I am to understand that I am currently residing aboard..."
Questions?:
Did you put your characters name and fandom in the subject: Yes. Yes I did.