Post by DOMINIC HART on Aug 1, 2013 2:39:53 GMT -5
DOMINIC AMBROSE HART
--GENERAL INFO--
i wanna talk about me, wanna talk about i
Name -- Dominic Ambrose Hart
Canon or Original -- Original
Gender -- Male
Age -- 23 years; October 20
Membergroup -- Alliance (Federal Marshal)
Brief History -- Dom was born to Carter and Jenny Hart on Bellerophon, the third child. He has an older sister, an older brother, and a younger sister. He went to all the finest schooling that money could afford; while the Harts weren’t the wealthiest family around, they certainly weren’t the poorest. After all, they did live quite comfortably on a Central Planet. Carter Hart had been an Alliance officer, fighting against the Browncoats during the rebellion, but he was seriously injured during the Battle of Serenity Valley. Since then, he hasn’t been able to fight. Dominic was too young at that point to be part of the military, out in the field, but he was anxiously looking out for his younger sister at school the entire time. As soon as possible, Dominic joined up with the Alliance, though his parents forbid him from enlisting. Instead, he went to law enforcement and signed up to be a federal marshal.
There were many other little events occurring in his life. Dominic had a lot of his time focused on his family, though, he realized, he was losing touch with them as he grew into his own. He found himself turning into an aloof, distant workaholic, dedicated to the cause of the law. In a way. On his twenty-first birthday, he received a letter, written on paper, from his mother, informing him that he had lost all of his money due to incurred family debts. He would receive no true inheritance, and he was now rendered impoverished. From that point on, he threw himself completely into his career.
Before long, he was promoted and even received his own Alliance Patrol Boat, a sweet girl called Huxley. He was still wildly young and inexperienced, however, and botched several of his assignments. While he was out on one, however, he caught word of a pair of fugitive siblings, worth a lot of money. The Tam siblings, specifically the younger one, River. He approached his superiors and requested to have an undercover job, one to find these evasive criminals. Tentatively, they agreed, taking back the ship and giving him a new identity: Colin Grimshaw, a young adventure-loving gun-for-hire, hoping to tag along with smugglers for the excitement, coming from a small hidden village on Jiangyin. He has been, essentially, hopping from ship to ship, hunting for the Tam siblings with all his might. It’s not even about morals anymore, if it ever was. It’s about the money.
--APPEARANCE--
don't be fooled by the mask i wear
Face Claim -- Ryan Bertroche
Eyes -- Hazel
Hair -- Dark brown
Build -- Muscular and athletic. He’s a big guy, standing already at 6’1’’, with broad shoulders.
Other -- None.
--DEMEANOR AND PERSONALITY--
feel it rushing over you, like boiling water
General -- Dominic, in general, is a very stern, demanding man who expects nothing but the best. He gives compliments very rarely, preferring to offer criticism or ideas for improvement, if he comments at all. Mostly, he’ll probably just note it mentally and move along. He is a very reserved young man already, and he prefers to keep up a façade of having everything be alright. Inside, however, he is finding little motivation for his work and a startling lack of a conscious that worries him. He has quite a few mental conversations with himself on the philosophies of morality and the conscious. Sometimes, it distracts him. Mostly, though, not so much.
Dominic is a very focused fellow, hardworking. An overachiever, really, who always spends his time on whatever his current project is, Dominic has found himself not really caring about anyone besides himself. He’s been working alone for a while now, and he has changed so much already. It startles him. What Dominic fears most is himself, truly. He is intelligent, however, and athletic, always enjoying mental or physical stimulation and activity. Dominic cares little for interpersonal relations, however, he is not a prude. He has never experienced love beyond the familial kind, and, from all the reading he has done, he can’t say that he’s exactly disappointed about that. It’s not so important to him. What is important to him, though? Finding out what’s important to him is what’s important to him; for a young man who prides himself on being self-aware, Dominic is very confused about many things, mostly regarding himself.
That isn’t helped by the fact that he is an undercover agent hunting fugitives – for money. Colin Grimshaw, his persona, is an excitable young fellow with a craving for adventure. He is enthusiastic and overcompensates for a lot, always trying to prove himself. Of course, most of it still is Dominic himself, though maybe with more facial expressions. He’s calculating and strategic with everything he does, and he always makes moves that he feels will help him best. If that means moving quickly without much thought, then he’ll do that. How is that possible, though, thoughtfulness in thoughtlessness? It’s difficult. Dominic hasn’t exactly mastered it yet. He is still very green, very inexperienced, and he has a lot to learn, both about himself and the ‘verse.
Weaknesses --
Emotional disconnect – Dom has difficulty connecting to others or himself emotionally; he doesn’t fully understand it, so he’d rather push it away.
Blunt – He has a habit of being brutally honest
Obsessively neat – While he doesn’t have medical OCD, Dom is meticulous in all of his physical matters, always trying to make sure everything is neat and tidy. Dust specks beware! He tends to let his focus stray from what really matters.
Lying – Currently, Dom’s life is a lie. The foundations of all relationships he might form at the moment is a lie.
Morality – Dom was brought up to be a good boy, but, really, the world changed him just by having him live in it. He is conflicted, sometimes, by what he sees the Alliance do and how he feels about it. He feels that it must be perfectly just in everything, if not always perfectly democratic, but he’s found that the poor never seem to get what they deserve as he’s been traveling around with them, mostly. He doesn’t like conflict within himself, and would rather just choose straight away.
Alcohol – Believe it or not, Dom is a total lightweight. One drink would get him rather tipsy, two drinks and he’s gone.
Strengths --
Intelligent
Quick thinking, mentally flexible
Adept liar
Hand-to-hand combat
Ranged combat
Confident
Secrets --
Colin Grimshaw – His true identity, of course, is Dominic Hart.
Fear – Dominic is afraid of a lot of things, mostly non-physical and many within himself. In a way, he fears himself and he fears what he could become and what he believes. That’s why he has a tendency to keep all of this rather secret.
--EVERYTHING ELSE--
reading between the lines
Roleplay Sample -- (Stolen from my site, Tanner Hill – it’s kinda a derpy post, but it’s what I could find on me ^^’)
Angela glanced at the clock on the wall as she slipped out the front door. Six-forty-five. A little late, but, hey, it was fine. Her daughter was still asleep, and it was still cool enough for Angela to get in a nice, early morning jog. School hadn't started yet this year, but she was excited to see the new students, to see who all would walk -- more often trudge -- into her classroom, usually not ready to learn but going to have to anyway. The elevator played its usual painful tuneless jazz, and while Angela enjoyed jazz, this was the sort of synthetic crap that left babies bawling. Okay, maybe that was an exaggeration, but Angela would cringe every time she heard it -- if she weren't laughing so hard internally.
Angela walked briskly to Riverwoode Park. It was gorgeous, with all of the trees full of vibrant life and covered in verdant leaves. Angela noticed a couple of other people out, some with dogs, some alone, some in couples, all different ages, all sizes. There probably was a metanth or two among them. Even the songbirds were suspect. It wasn't that Angela lived her entire life in suspicion, of course. She was in no true danger from mentaths. She was, however, alert to their presence in everyday life and she knew that if she discovered one, she must report it and then await further instruction. Her job wasn't to hunt them down, take them out, whatever. Her job, mainly, was just to get people to join Vigilance.
Following the main sidewalk, Angela began her jog, her ponytail bouncing behind her black hat. She did her best to jog toward the west, or at the very least not the east, but the path twisted and turned, going up and down slight slopes and alongside shallow parts of the Wowokan, and sometimes the sun would glare at her, indignant in its failure to blind her completely, thanks to her sunglasses. Her entire outfit, really, was chosen to combat the sun and its effects. While the shadows of the plethora of trees happened to keep most of the park rather cool, along with the presence of the river, there were still times in the dead of summer that heat was a menace. Today seemed as if it would be hot, though it was still only, what, maybe eight o'clock? Angela took long jogs, especially on the weekdays. They were relaxing.
As a few more people started coming into the park, Angela decided to take a break. She trotted on down to a park bench near the shore of the river, beneath the shade of a great aspen. Sweat sparkled on her face and wet her shirt so that it clung to her well-toned body. After all, an agent has to stay in shape. Not only was the jog cathartic, but also it allowed her to keep up with all the other agents who had the luxury of time to train in Vigilance's headquarters. Luxury. Ha. Not a word common in Angela's vocabulary, not a word common in her life. Considering the jobs she had, it might seem that Angela should be upper-middle class at least, but this was hardly so. She was middle class, solid through and through. Her benefits did cover dental at least, though, so perhaps she was fortunate there.
Angela walked briskly to Riverwoode Park. It was gorgeous, with all of the trees full of vibrant life and covered in verdant leaves. Angela noticed a couple of other people out, some with dogs, some alone, some in couples, all different ages, all sizes. There probably was a metanth or two among them. Even the songbirds were suspect. It wasn't that Angela lived her entire life in suspicion, of course. She was in no true danger from mentaths. She was, however, alert to their presence in everyday life and she knew that if she discovered one, she must report it and then await further instruction. Her job wasn't to hunt them down, take them out, whatever. Her job, mainly, was just to get people to join Vigilance.
Following the main sidewalk, Angela began her jog, her ponytail bouncing behind her black hat. She did her best to jog toward the west, or at the very least not the east, but the path twisted and turned, going up and down slight slopes and alongside shallow parts of the Wowokan, and sometimes the sun would glare at her, indignant in its failure to blind her completely, thanks to her sunglasses. Her entire outfit, really, was chosen to combat the sun and its effects. While the shadows of the plethora of trees happened to keep most of the park rather cool, along with the presence of the river, there were still times in the dead of summer that heat was a menace. Today seemed as if it would be hot, though it was still only, what, maybe eight o'clock? Angela took long jogs, especially on the weekdays. They were relaxing.
As a few more people started coming into the park, Angela decided to take a break. She trotted on down to a park bench near the shore of the river, beneath the shade of a great aspen. Sweat sparkled on her face and wet her shirt so that it clung to her well-toned body. After all, an agent has to stay in shape. Not only was the jog cathartic, but also it allowed her to keep up with all the other agents who had the luxury of time to train in Vigilance's headquarters. Luxury. Ha. Not a word common in Angela's vocabulary, not a word common in her life. Considering the jobs she had, it might seem that Angela should be upper-middle class at least, but this was hardly so. She was middle class, solid through and through. Her benefits did cover dental at least, though, so perhaps she was fortunate there.
