[OOC- Application Repost]
[series]: Ouran High School Host Club
[character]: Ootori Kyouya
[character history / background]: Handy-dandy wiki?
[character abilities]: If something needs to be done and the means are there, Kyouya will find and use them. It's very simple, his abilities lie in people and finding resources relating to them and around them.
[character personality]: Let's start with the first layer, the one most people will see. Even at the age of seventeen, Kyouya is an exceptional businessman. He will come across as cool, calm, level-headed, intelligent and confident in a strangely passive manner; the Japanese will never say something is flat-out impossible... That's far too blunt, too impolite. No, not impossible, it would simply be very... difficult, sir. Perhaps we can negotiate something more plausible, hm?
And he will smile, bow, present himself as approachable, take the hand offered in friendship... if it will suit his goals in the long run. Otherwise the smile will remain but he will regretfully decline, however there are very pressing matters he needs to attend to, please accept his most sincere apologies.
A little deeper, will he really do anything to get what he wants? Yes, of course. Even at the expense of those considered to be in his own clique? Yes, debatably even more so than usual. Within the utter insanity someone has to keep a level head and keep up with the amounts being spent on such extravagant events. Money does not grow on trees, after all. Does it all come down to money? ...yes, of course.
Arguably a puppeteer and the 'mother' of the group, usually his word is final when he steps in to give it. For the most part though, let the kids have their fun if the price is reasonable and perhaps he'll be tempted to play along as well at a reasonable distance. It'll be... interesting, after all. But wait, interest doesn't relate to money, does it? Of course it does. Everything leads to money, does it not? ♥
Deeper still, do you ever feel like he's analysing you? Picking you apart under his gaze for a whole second after you greet him? Ever a sense that he can pick up on your subtle hints or your cleverly hidden jibes? He is. A single glance can be enough sometimes, but he knows, he sees through it all so easily. He'll adjust his glasses and the smile is back. Return the favour? Oh, no, sir. Regrettably, that isn't the way he likes to work. That's the way he likes it. Distance. He can see you, you can't see him. He likes it like that and it will remain as such. So why... How did--? Never mind. Minor detail. Nothing important. The perception of the fool, perhaps? Again, he likes it that way.
Is there more depth? Always. He has a temper. Growling under the charming smile he could be snarling, suppressing the want to drive a fist into someone's face, he could be enraged and he'd give very little away to suggest as much, but even the Japanese are human and have feelings. Yet, only one person will receive that aggression head on and that was hard earned, fool's luck. How did he--? Doesn't matter. Irrelevant detail.
It's all for the money, for interest, for them, for entertainment, to grow, to live. And it's all his fault. Damn foreigners don't understand a thing... Perhaps a different outlook is healthy, in moderation. Stupidity, however, even in moderation, is tiresome.
[point in timeline you're picking your character from]: Post anime, maybe intermixing minor manga details along the way. Only little things, though.
[journal post]:
While the concept of recording one's daily events does seem somewhat trivial, I can clearly see that it could be rather beneficial what kind of network isn't beneficial in the right hands, after all and should be utilised to its full potential. To not do so would be an insult, would it not?
There is a profitable side to every situation, no matter how obscure or bleak it may seem. When you are given grapes you make wine, so it is said. Thus, when presented with a network of such quality you take advantage of what it can provide you with mingle with the community via it.
It seems utterly exploitable charming.
[third person / log sample]:
So easy. It had been so easy for him to waltz in and break each and every one of Kyoua's defences one by one. It was like opening the buttons of a shirt.
Pop, pop, pop.
It left a section exposed, cold to the air that made Kyouya want to recoil, snarl defensively, tell him to stay away, don't go any deeper, don't find more without even trying. That was what caused his blood to boil, to churn under his skin. It was so effortless, so easy. Pop. He had no idea just how difficult that should have been.
Time, effort, exchange, talk, negotiation, dissection, a chess game. It should have taken all of that and more, none of them were cheap. And it took none of that for him.
Furious. He'd left Kyouya furious. Papers had been strewn about the place, clothing, a fist met a pillow over and over and each time it failed to look any less like his face, that smiling, laughing, foolish face. If he was a schemer like himself, if they had played out a good game, if Kyouya's king had been cornered, it would have been a win he would have given over, albeit begrudgingly.
But no. No, not for him. He most likely didn't even know the rules of chess. He was an idiot. That was what infuriated him. An idiot had slid through carefully placed wall, between the many nets and he'd smashed the angelic mask, he'd drawn out the demon and he did it all while giggling. And...
Pop.
He couldn't afford temptation. Dreamers crashed and burnt. Kyouya had to be a realist. So why did everything look so small from up there sometimes? When did he submit himself before he even knew it? He had to break from it. From what? Break from the freedom and be tied down again? Never. Never, and yet... He had to hover in the middle somewhere between his feet on the ground and soaring high.
There should be hate, hands about his throat, screw the collected façade, Kyouya should have hated him for daring to give him wings.
Yet there he still was. Still the fool, still melodramatic, still blind to reality, still spinning and spinning without a care of who he crashed into and pulled along with him. Stop, stop, enough had to be enough. Too much. There had to be nausea from such recklessness. And yet there was none at all and he didn't let go.
Someone had to make sure the idiot didn't get too dizzy and hurt himself.
Snap. The file closed.
Click. The pen retracted.
Maybe it wasn't so bad. He'd made a demon cry, after all. Maybe he owed him something... Maybe. Don't push it.
[character]: Ootori Kyouya
[character history / background]: Handy-dandy wiki?
[character abilities]: If something needs to be done and the means are there, Kyouya will find and use them. It's very simple, his abilities lie in people and finding resources relating to them and around them.
[character personality]: Let's start with the first layer, the one most people will see. Even at the age of seventeen, Kyouya is an exceptional businessman. He will come across as cool, calm, level-headed, intelligent and confident in a strangely passive manner; the Japanese will never say something is flat-out impossible... That's far too blunt, too impolite. No, not impossible, it would simply be very... difficult, sir. Perhaps we can negotiate something more plausible, hm?
And he will smile, bow, present himself as approachable, take the hand offered in friendship... if it will suit his goals in the long run. Otherwise the smile will remain but he will regretfully decline, however there are very pressing matters he needs to attend to, please accept his most sincere apologies.
A little deeper, will he really do anything to get what he wants? Yes, of course. Even at the expense of those considered to be in his own clique? Yes, debatably even more so than usual. Within the utter insanity someone has to keep a level head and keep up with the amounts being spent on such extravagant events. Money does not grow on trees, after all. Does it all come down to money? ...yes, of course.
Arguably a puppeteer and the 'mother' of the group, usually his word is final when he steps in to give it. For the most part though, let the kids have their fun if the price is reasonable and perhaps he'll be tempted to play along as well at a reasonable distance. It'll be... interesting, after all. But wait, interest doesn't relate to money, does it? Of course it does. Everything leads to money, does it not? ♥
Deeper still, do you ever feel like he's analysing you? Picking you apart under his gaze for a whole second after you greet him? Ever a sense that he can pick up on your subtle hints or your cleverly hidden jibes? He is. A single glance can be enough sometimes, but he knows, he sees through it all so easily. He'll adjust his glasses and the smile is back. Return the favour? Oh, no, sir. Regrettably, that isn't the way he likes to work. That's the way he likes it. Distance. He can see you, you can't see him. He likes it like that and it will remain as such. So why... How did--? Never mind. Minor detail. Nothing important. The perception of the fool, perhaps? Again, he likes it that way.
Is there more depth? Always. He has a temper. Growling under the charming smile he could be snarling, suppressing the want to drive a fist into someone's face, he could be enraged and he'd give very little away to suggest as much, but even the Japanese are human and have feelings. Yet, only one person will receive that aggression head on and that was hard earned, fool's luck. How did he--? Doesn't matter. Irrelevant detail.
It's all for the money, for interest, for them, for entertainment, to grow, to live. And it's all his fault. Damn foreigners don't understand a thing... Perhaps a different outlook is healthy, in moderation. Stupidity, however, even in moderation, is tiresome.
[point in timeline you're picking your character from]: Post anime, maybe intermixing minor manga details along the way. Only little things, though.
[journal post]:
While the concept of recording one's daily events does seem somewhat trivial, I can clearly see that it could be rather beneficial what kind of network isn't beneficial in the right hands, after all and should be utilised to its full potential. To not do so would be an insult, would it not?
There is a profitable side to every situation, no matter how obscure or bleak it may seem. When you are given grapes you make wine, so it is said. Thus, when presented with a network of such quality you take advantage of what it can provide you with mingle with the community via it.
It seems utterly exploitable charming.
[third person / log sample]:
So easy. It had been so easy for him to waltz in and break each and every one of Kyoua's defences one by one. It was like opening the buttons of a shirt.
Pop, pop, pop.
It left a section exposed, cold to the air that made Kyouya want to recoil, snarl defensively, tell him to stay away, don't go any deeper, don't find more without even trying. That was what caused his blood to boil, to churn under his skin. It was so effortless, so easy. Pop. He had no idea just how difficult that should have been.
Time, effort, exchange, talk, negotiation, dissection, a chess game. It should have taken all of that and more, none of them were cheap. And it took none of that for him.
Furious. He'd left Kyouya furious. Papers had been strewn about the place, clothing, a fist met a pillow over and over and each time it failed to look any less like his face, that smiling, laughing, foolish face. If he was a schemer like himself, if they had played out a good game, if Kyouya's king had been cornered, it would have been a win he would have given over, albeit begrudgingly.
But no. No, not for him. He most likely didn't even know the rules of chess. He was an idiot. That was what infuriated him. An idiot had slid through carefully placed wall, between the many nets and he'd smashed the angelic mask, he'd drawn out the demon and he did it all while giggling. And...
Pop.
He couldn't afford temptation. Dreamers crashed and burnt. Kyouya had to be a realist. So why did everything look so small from up there sometimes? When did he submit himself before he even knew it? He had to break from it. From what? Break from the freedom and be tied down again? Never. Never, and yet... He had to hover in the middle somewhere between his feet on the ground and soaring high.
There should be hate, hands about his throat, screw the collected façade, Kyouya should have hated him for daring to give him wings.
Yet there he still was. Still the fool, still melodramatic, still blind to reality, still spinning and spinning without a care of who he crashed into and pulled along with him. Stop, stop, enough had to be enough. Too much. There had to be nausea from such recklessness. And yet there was none at all and he didn't let go.
Someone had to make sure the idiot didn't get too dizzy and hurt himself.
Snap. The file closed.
Click. The pen retracted.
Maybe it wasn't so bad. He'd made a demon cry, after all. Maybe he owed him something... Maybe. Don't push it.