Post by fox on Jun 27, 2010 12:32:20 GMT -5
...ridley craiftin fox *
*Is it so wrong to want everything? *
[/size]*Is it so wrong to want everything? *
...basics*
name Ridley Craiftin Fox
nickname As a child, he was occasionally given the nickname “Riddle.” Though he would still stand for this nickname, he’s been called just “Fox” far more often in his life – sometimes almost as often as his real first name. Early in his school days, his teachers mistook his name for “Reynard” for some reason or another, so he was “Reynard” for most of his third year of school.
age Twenty-four
gender Male
grade N/A
hometown Drogheda, Ireland
sexuality Quite openly bisexual
personification The Fox (from The Fox and the Crow, an Aesop fable)
face claim Ewan McGregor
...appearance*
hair color Reddish brown
eye color Green
build Shorter than most men, but not necessarily stocky; there’s a sort of grace about him. He has quick, clever fingers, as well.
height 5’7”
clothing style It depends on the day and what mischief he’s up to. His outfit is far from consistent, but he’s usually wearing something subtly odd that stands out from the norm, like stripey socks.
distinctive traits He does quite like those stripey socks, and 95% of the time he has a sly smile on his face.
...personal*
personality Ridley is undeniably one of the craftiest men around. He’s sly, quick with his hands, an excellent actor, and above all, he’s greedy. Perhaps this is what led him into his profession of con artistry – for that is what he does for a living, and he’s very, very good at it. He is no conventional street rat, either; so successful is he that he can afford his own living arrangements without the assistance of a partner. He takes great personal offense to being called a “con man” and will only accept the term “con artist” to describe his profession, as he believes that his methods are of a higher quality than the norm.
Ridley always wants more of everything. When he has eaten his share, he wants more food (for his fast metabolism keeps him rather skinny, to a point). When he has read his own book, he wants to read someone else’s. When he has enough money, he wants even more of it. When he has his own lover, he wants someone else’s. And Ridley feels no remorse towards causing harm in the wake of his gluttony – though he probably wouldn’t go to the extent of causing physical pain, he either does not sense or does not acknowledge the emotional damage he has caused others through his trickery and lies. In fact, Ridley has never truly loved or cared for anyone, as much as he’s lied through his teeth to make others believe he has. Ridley, in truth, does not know what it feels like to care about someone. He knows what it’s supposed to feel like, and he knows perfectly well the actions and words to use in order to portray caring, but the sensation itself is an utterly foreign entity to him. Humans are like circus animals or pets to him, something amusing he can profit from and throw peanuts at.
Ridley’s twisted perception of humanity causes him to believe that no creature has ever existed that is on the same level as him. However, though he is rather arrogant, he does not believe this in a purely conceited way. Ridley is very detached from others due to his general lack of sympathy – he views humans almost as an entirely different species, and are therefore not comparable to him. However, he is fairly vain, so that is also a factor in his opinion. In general, when he’s not playing up a facade of courtesy, he is actually rather ill-mannered. He acknowledges the norms of society, but does not follow them unless he needs to. If left to his own devices, he just does whatever he wants.
Extremely manipulative and utterly sly, Ridley knows exactly how to get someone to do what he wants. He is unquestionably charming and knows more than one would think he’d know about psychology and sociology – the way humans work. He is highly intelligent and well-educated, which is what really makes him such a monster in his field – Ridley knows what he’s doing. Over the years, various members of law enforcement have pursued him, but he has never been caught. He believes in “every man for himself,” and, if he does take a partner in a con, he will not defend them in any manner if they are caught – in fact, he may frame or incriminate them (or exaggerate their misdeeds) in order to assure that he gets away.
Possessing a sort of boyish charm and an irrepressible playfulness, when he’s not in the midst of an act, Ridley can be excitable and almost childish. He is optimistic and confident, a mood he rarely shifts from. However, this side of him is almost never seen, as he now moves constantly from con to con, always keeping up the level, unperturbed pretense of invulnerability. He’s not entirely sure he wants anyone to know he has feelings, so he rarely shares them, instead playing the cool intellectual who can pull on any new persona at the drop of a pin...and his focus, once he does, is undoubtedly superb.
past Ridley was born in Drogheda, Ireland on the cold morning of February the 28th. How he could have possibly ended up with such boars for parents as he had is incomprehensible, for he was a very bright child, if a rebellious one. His parents were not necessarily abusive, but were generally uncaring, so Ridley often acted out for attention. He put on different characters to annoy his parents and became very fleet-footed as he dodged the occasional beer can pitched his way.
From a young age, he liked to wear his clothes backwards just for fun and conned playground children out of their lunch money or favorite toys on a regular basis, often making absurd promises that would never come to pass, though his peers were too young to understand this. He frequently got in trouble with the authorities in his school, and, by middle school, became the ringleader of a small group of delinquents he called the Study Group. They often pretended to be “studying” when, in fact, they were roaming about the streets of Dublin causing havoc and mayhem, from vandalization to thievery to fraud (this was Ridley’s favorite, and would probably have been his only endeavor if not for the rowdier members of his party). By later on in their career, however, some of his friends were getting more serious and drawing away from him to become independent criminals...but the more they did, the more likely their chances seemed to be of getting arrested. A little over a year after the formation of the Study Group, Ridley was the last man standing. He had testified against the majority of his partners when they were on the stand, as well.
Tired of being neglected by his inattentive parents and eager for adventure, Ridley ran away from home at age thirteen and hopped a train to Dublin. He carried with him only a small duffel bag full of clothes, a blanket, some compiled cash (including some stolen from his parents), and his favorite toothbrush. Surely life by himself could not be too hard, right?
Wrong.
Ridley discovered quickly that the city was not a forgiving place. He was soon forced to steal in order to eat and ran out of clean clothes. He slept in cold alleys and had to dodge the other homeless residents of Dublin, keeping out of sight during the day and springing from shadow to shadow at night. As it was now a method of survival and not just a hobby, con artistry became Ridley’s main source of income, and though he did not attend school for the several years that enclosed this period, he did sneak books from the library, including textbooks for what would have been his grade in school. For the longest time, he wasn’t even sure if his parents noticed he was gone, and he found that, though life was difficult, he was happier making his own living in the streets than sulking in the house all day, waiting for his parents to let him go out and play.
At age fifteen, after living in the Dublin streets for nearly three years, Ridley was finally caught with several others stealing from an electronics supply store (to his credit, he had been caught in a street fight earlier that day and was nursing a bullet wound in his shoulder and a badly twisted ankle). By this point, he had almost entirely forgotten his old life and adopted the alias “Fox,” but one cannot erase birth records; it was soon found out just who Fox was, and he was sent home after once again successfully pinning the majority of the charges on his accomplices (despite having led the operation himself).
Back in Drogheda, Ridley’s parents were angrier with him than ever, though it seemed that they had nearly forgotten him in his absence. They now paid even less attention to him than they had before. After unwillingly staying back a year to catch up in school (he was still rather behind, despite his library visits), he passed his Junior Certificate Examination (which he had missed) and his Leaving Certificate Examination (which he had not), graduated from his community secondary school, and, as soon as his budget allowed, hopped a plane to America. He didn’t have much intention of going to college – he didn’t have the money or the grades, and his parents didn’t seem willing to pay for it – but what he did know was that he was a very good con artist, and he could make a better living in America than in Ireland. Though he was almost forced to return to the streets on several occasions, Ridley has traveled the States conning various Americans out of their money for around four years now, and has only recently settled in NYC.
present Currently, Ridley lives comfortably as he delights in the profits of his trade. He has rented an apartment in New York City and has decided to settle there until he is forced to move (for he can never stay in one place for too long). He has very little intention to stop conning, as it’s one of only three things he considers himself very good at (the other two being acting and “flowery speech,” as he calls it). Very proud of where he’s gotten himself, he doesn’t really mind that he never furthered his education, but he still does read when he gets the chance, and is very knowledgeable despite his absence of a degree.
Ridley does not know if he will ever find someone he truly cares about. He has only recently realized how little he has ever cared for anyone and the truth of his utter disregard for others’ feelings – though he has always been fantastic at reading emotions, he has never heeded them. Though he is not sure how he feels about this, he optimistically reflects that it really has nothing to do with him and he shouldn’t be too concerned with it. Right now, his work is his priority. Along with the realization of his lack of empathy, he's also discovered that he finds men and women equally attractive, something that he was vaguely aware of before but never put a name to.
family
Clare Fox – 52, mother, estranged
Dominic Fox – 56, father, estranged
likes
Tricking others
Riddles
Getting what he wants
Himself
Cheese
Knowledge (the more you know!)
Comedy (he loves to laugh)
Music
Technology (it fascinates him)
Foxes (he has a multitude of fox memorabilia to commemorate his namesake)
Coffee
Sunny days
Sweet or sugary things
Easy money
A good challenge (conflicting with his last like, Ridley not only enjoys easy cons, but also new tests for his skills)
dislikes
Intelligent people (they are hard to trick)
Word searches (he’s never had the eye for them)
Sour foods
Crows (they naturally dislike him, as well)
Hunting (especially fox hunting)
Apple juice (it looks like pee and it doesn’t taste much better)
Sitcoms
People who think they are funny but aren’t
Overcast or rainy days
Not having things he wants
Lemonade
Losing
His parents
The Irish school system
Churches (he has many unsavory memories of being cramped into a hard wooden pew every Sunday to listen to some crusty-looking old guy talk about a book he’d never read)
other notes Ridley’s favorite band is The Cranberries (Death Cab For Cutie is a close second), and he listens to them often in his free time. He also speaks with a distinct Irish accent, though his speech is usually articulate.
...literature*
book title The Fox and the Crow (Aesop’s Fables)
backstory In this fable, a fox (referred to as Master Reynard) sees a crow settle into a tree, holding a piece of cheese. The fox reflects that this cheese should be his, because he is a fox, and approaches the crow. He flatters her endlessly, saying that she is lovely, the loveliest of birds. Surely, says the fox, her voice must be beautiful, so he asks that she sing so he can “greet her as the Queen of Birds.” As the bird opens its beak to caw, the piece of cheese drops to the ground and is snapped up by the fox, who then smugly tells the crow that the cheese was all he was after, and that she should never trust a flatterer.
...roleplayer*
name Zelda.
age LET’S DO THE TIME WARP
gender Female
rp experience SEE ALEXANDER FORTESCUE
how you found ouac SEE ALEXANDER FORTESCUE
rp sample It just seemed to be DeSoto’s style to go wandering aimlessly about the way he did, especially on days like this, days when he had better things to do. He had all sorts of papers to take care of, different calls to make, places to go, people to see...but did he? Of course not. That would contradict everything that made him DeSoto Lavergne.
If nothing else, he reflected, there was only one of him in the world. He didn’t know if this was good or bad, but it was true.
They said ‘the truth will set you free,’ so maybe it was a good thing after all. Then again, he’d never held himself in high enough esteem to believe he was important – no, that would be arrogant of him, and he was raised better than that. Rather, he thought to himself, he seemed to continue to exist in spite of the world’s clear desire not to want him there, and that was what singled him out from the rest of the populace. He wasn’t sure if that made him ungrateful or just perseverant. Still, whatever he might have been, he’d decided long ago that he existed for the sake of existing, without pride and without distress, rather than because he had a reason to exist. DeSoto wasn’t one to rely solely on intuition, but sometimes things weren’t all about logic, and he could acknowledge that.
He supposed this rather lighthearted take on the world’s goings-on was why he chose to neglect all his duties that morning and take a stroll, his eyes as big and murky green and wondering as they had been when he first came to this city. It never ceased to amaze him. Cities were so...balanced, the perfect combination of the bustle of life and, simultaneously, a complete lack of it. Humans hurried past him on the sidewalks, drove their cars, sat in their cubicles in the towering office buildings he passed, and chatted online in the recesses of their apartments as he walked under the shadows of their complexes. But at the same time, he sometimes saw not a single tree for blocks. There was no grass. The vegetation he did see was straining to stay alive, or else nourished to taunting extremes in enclosed window displays or flower boxes. There were no cornfields or dairy farms. That was all gone.
But maybe he was overthinking things. (It wouldn’t be the first time.) And now he was nearly to that coffee shop he liked so much, so he decided he ought to stop thinking so deeply before he ran himself into a telephone pole.
He pushed open the door with ease, carrying himself with a distinct poise that seemed to stem from his good posture and neat-yet-casual attire – a blue button-up shirt, dark pants, nondescript shoes. His hair was an indecisive shade, hovering somewhere between honey brown and honey blonde, and his murky gray-green eyes seemed to have a starry quality to them, as if he regularly filled them with night sky. He was a little over six feet tall, his figure slim but not skinny, and that distinct Louisiana brand of Southern drawl became considerably more obvious as he leaned subtly over the counter and exchanged a few words with an employee. His voice was quiet and courteous; DeSoto was a man of few words and many thoughts, a quality that had proved a bit disadvantageous throughout his life in the scheme of the social scene.
As he waited for his order, he turned to observe the shop, making up names and life stories for the more and less interesting characters he came across, his most reliable cure for boredom.