Post by Raivis Galante on Aug 12, 2011 20:10:01 GMT -5
IC
Character Name: Raivis Galante
Nationality: Latvian
Gender: male
Birthday: 11/18
Age: 19. And has yet to hit puberty.
Education:
Occupation: Barista at his parents' coffee shop by day and wannabe novelist/ poet at any other moment
Family:
Hometown: New York, New York, United States
Starting Town: New York, New York, United States
Brief History: During the 1980s in Latvia, Aija Avotiņš fled the country by herself; the Soviet Union was winding down, like allowing public access of records locked away for decades but was still very much in existence. She knew things were in the process of getting better but she could not stand the oppression she had grown up with any longer. New York City seemed the place of dreams. She worked day in and day out waitressing at admittably seedy dives until the day she met Niklauvs Galante. Their hands brushed when both of them made a grab for a CD of The Cure in a discount music store and from then on it was 'just like heaven'. She found out that his family had escaped from Latvia a generation previously and very shortly, they fell in love. After finding out that Aija was pregnant with his child, the couple had a shotgun wedding. They were determined that their child, their little Raivis, was going to grow up with all the luxuries of middle class America. Scrapping together their money, they pooled enough together to afford a modestly sized space with a small apartment above it. They converted the first floor to a coffee shop and the Galante family lives in the apartment to this day.
Raivis' childhood was unremarkable aside from the sheer amount of doting his parents did on him. Teddy bears, books and lots and lots of hugs were lavished upon him. All he had to do in exchange was help clean up the coffee shop downstairs. The boy really did not enjoy going to preschool and in fact, started bawling and clinging to his father's leg when he tried to drop him off. Raivis did not hate the other kids, he just frankly was terrified of them. When an overly amorous little girl tackled him and forced apple juice-sticky kisses upon his face as soon as his father left, the boy burst into an inconsolable state of tears and hiccups and had to be picked up early.
The majority of his school experiences past that were not much better. In fact, once he hit middle school, they became much worse. In elementary school, the majority of the students are quite little and Raivis' petite frame did not stand out in the slightest but upon 6th grade, when his peers were hitting their growth spurts and Raivis was still the size of a third to fourth grader, he got unwanted attention. Teasing plagued him day in and day out. It didn't escalate to all out bullying but being unfortunately a sensitive flower of a boy, he retreated into a shell of his former smiley self.
He had friends though. Better even, he had books. Books where he could escape and forget about whatever calamity had happened, books where he could pretend he was a daring sleuth or adventurer and books where he could fantasize about grand romances. He was only 12 when he fell in love with love itself. It inspired songs, wars and best yet, beautiful poetry.
If something could churn out such intoxicating words, it had to be the best thing on Earth.
Fast forward to high school. Raivis had far exhausted the romance section of of the library and had moved on to dime store romances novels of the type great aunts would leave laying around. Cheap, quite scandalous in regards to contents and utterly enthralling.
School itself had gone from being a chore to near tortuous to Raivis despite his teacher's pet-like appearance. He still had the few friends he had in middle school but as a boy entering high school at 4'5", life was rather tough. Physical education was the worst. Scratch that, changing after physical education was the worst. He was subjugated to seeing all the muscle, body hair and masculine odors his classmates had developed when he himself was near hairless and his body clung desperately onto the the baby fat that kept it soft while still being scrawny. The one thing he looked forward to was English. It was the only class he excelled in and he lived for it.
Not only did he appreciate the written word as an art form, his imaginative mind was able to create stories and bend it to his will. 5th period freshman English class after receiving high praise from his teacher, Raivis decided that he was going to become a writer.
Raivis knew it was going to happen. It was inevitable. he had graduated from cleaning around his parents' coffee shop to becoming a part time barista. He worked endlessly to afford the one thing that he needed to be the next great novelist; a typewriter. He felt as if it was his duty to use one as did all the great modern writers did before him. Once he had saved up enough, he ran over to the pawn shop across the street, shoved all his money on the counter and lugged it home like one would an overweight but precious infant.
He had the typewriter {whom he named Emma} for all of one week during sophmore year before an..incident..occurred. Raivis had brought Emma to school to show his teacher, who, incidentally, he was harboring a major crush on. The typewriter was quite heavy for him to be carrying around but, up until the end of the day, Raivis was doing quite well. Until a much larger student, not seeing Raivis, had bumped into him, causing the Latvian to drop Emma, Emma to break near in half, Raivis to go into a blind rage and wake up at home two days later.
Some students say that Raivis actually managed to punch the guy in the groin so hard, he was rendered infertile, others say that Raivis spat in his eye and started speaking in tongues but everyone agreed that Raivis had no chance in that fight.
So embarrassed and stressed out from in {not to mention scared shitless}, Raivis dropped out of school with the permission of his parents and continued his education safe at home under his parents supervision.
Currently, he has completed high school though school work at home and is now the official barista of the Galante family coffee shop. He is also doing correspondence with the Creative Writing program at NYU.
Personality:Quiet, meek and always keen to avoid conflicts, to the very core Raivis is a gentle soul. He has non-existing self esteem but, despite that, he is an optimist. It takes him a significantly sizable amount of time to warm up to people but once he does, he is the epitome of loyalty and, to be honest, fairly clingy. Yes, the boy will have a near panic attack if stranger brushes by him but at the same time, once he trusts someone, he will near hang on them like an extra limb.
Despite Raivis' natural inclination to be a pushover, he also has the magical ability to say the exact wrong thing at very often the worst time possible. It's nearly an art form!
Another essential part of his personality is his realist nature versus his inner romanticism. Raivis very well knows one cannot survive of mere dreams and fairy dust alone but, oh how he yearns for someone to whisk him off into the sunset and for them to live happily ever after forever more! Often, he in the middle of doing tediously practical things such as actually doing his job as a barista, he finds himself drifting into elaborate day dreams. Of course, more often than not, this leads to minor accidents. The romance novels and poetry he reads clearly do not help the situation.
Another unfortunate trait of the romantic side of him is how easily Raivis' heart is set all aflutter by simple asks of kindness. At any given time, he harbors at least one minor crush who, when confronted by them, he is rendered completely incapable of basic human functions.
Despite all this silliness, the young man isn't all sugar and sunshine. He is very well aware of his cutesy appearance and, though he is ashamed of his feminine, young features, he absolutely will use them to his advantage if presented the opportunity. Also, on the rare occasion he is pushed to the edge of reason, he will lash out viciously. Which mostly results in him trying to stab someone with a flower and end up crying and hurting himself.
Raivis' timidity is chronic to the point of which, if in a dark alley, he will develop a fear of his own shadow and proceed to give himself a near heart attack every time he sees it.
Appearance:
Fashion Style:Rather slapdash. The way he dresses is not to be ironic, he is simply on a tight budget and has a pretty poor sense of style. Raivis does indeed care what he looks like, he just does not 'get' how style works. His usual attempts at being stylish amount to his collection of over sized sweat shirts paired with cargo pants-type shorts or jeans.
One thing he is keenly aware of is texture. Anything scratchy, starchy or itchy outright disturbs him to the point when he cannot focus and may, in extreme cases, get hives. The fabric of worn out tee shirts, cashmere sweaters and the fuzz of old denim comforts him.
He tends to avoid tight clothing as it makes his look even smaller than he already is. The only exception to that rule? Anything worn below the belt and above the ankle. Raivis wears girl's skinny jeans. Why? They simply fit him and the baby fat he still has around his hips, tummy and thighs better. Also, they are generally made of softer material and are far less likely to fall down.
One thing that stands out from his usual lack of fashion sense is his shoes. His old fashioned white and tan saddle shoes are his pride and joy. They were found at a sidewalk sale and he and them have been absolutely inseparable ever since. He also has a fondness of work boots. Probably due to the fact they have a slight heel to them.
No matter what the season, Raivis dresses in layers in a fruitless attempt to make himself look bigger. It more than backfires, it makes him appear even tinier. In winter, he is never seen without a rather knobby scarf but incredibly soft scarf{a home-ec project of his back in middle school}. Raivis is also rather fond of hats.
Upon formal occasions, wardrobe wise-he pulls out all the stops. Bye pulling out all the stops, what is meant is 'he ends up dressing like a six year old girl's ideal of a fairy tale prince'. The vests, waistcoats and trousers far better suit a coloring book than the wardrobe of a teenaged boy.
As for preferred color palette, he is rather entranced with dark, rich reds, creams, chocolatey browns and the occasional robin's egg blue.
Usual outfit 1:
Outfit 2:
Working minus a brown apron:
Formal {the right}:
Goals:
[/li][li] Have his first novel published before he reaches 21.
[/li][li] Gain confidence in himself[/font][/li][/ul]
Secret:
Other:
RP Sample: From a Mafitalia AU
OOC
Name: Chauncy
Age: 20
Contact Info: Skype: thecowardlydandelion
AIM: wictorwictor2
Website: forallthehufflepuffs.tumblr.com
Other:
And I hope that you'll know
That nature is so
This same rain that draws you near me
Falls on rivers and land
And forests and sand
Makes the beautiful world that you see
In the morning
Everything's fine in the morning
The rain will be gone in the morning
But I'll still be here in the morning
Character Name: Raivis Galante
Nationality: Latvian
Gender: male
Birthday: 11/18
Age: 19. And has yet to hit puberty.
Education:
- Standard public school education from grades pre-k through 10th, homeschooled until 12th due to social issues.
- Creative Writing program at NYU
Occupation: Barista at his parents' coffee shop by day and wannabe novelist/ poet at any other moment
Family:
- Aija Galante-mother
- Niklavs Galante-father
- -ask if you want to join the family!-
Hometown: New York, New York, United States
Starting Town: New York, New York, United States
Brief History: During the 1980s in Latvia, Aija Avotiņš fled the country by herself; the Soviet Union was winding down, like allowing public access of records locked away for decades but was still very much in existence. She knew things were in the process of getting better but she could not stand the oppression she had grown up with any longer. New York City seemed the place of dreams. She worked day in and day out waitressing at admittably seedy dives until the day she met Niklauvs Galante. Their hands brushed when both of them made a grab for a CD of The Cure in a discount music store and from then on it was 'just like heaven'. She found out that his family had escaped from Latvia a generation previously and very shortly, they fell in love. After finding out that Aija was pregnant with his child, the couple had a shotgun wedding. They were determined that their child, their little Raivis, was going to grow up with all the luxuries of middle class America. Scrapping together their money, they pooled enough together to afford a modestly sized space with a small apartment above it. They converted the first floor to a coffee shop and the Galante family lives in the apartment to this day.
Raivis' childhood was unremarkable aside from the sheer amount of doting his parents did on him. Teddy bears, books and lots and lots of hugs were lavished upon him. All he had to do in exchange was help clean up the coffee shop downstairs. The boy really did not enjoy going to preschool and in fact, started bawling and clinging to his father's leg when he tried to drop him off. Raivis did not hate the other kids, he just frankly was terrified of them. When an overly amorous little girl tackled him and forced apple juice-sticky kisses upon his face as soon as his father left, the boy burst into an inconsolable state of tears and hiccups and had to be picked up early.
The majority of his school experiences past that were not much better. In fact, once he hit middle school, they became much worse. In elementary school, the majority of the students are quite little and Raivis' petite frame did not stand out in the slightest but upon 6th grade, when his peers were hitting their growth spurts and Raivis was still the size of a third to fourth grader, he got unwanted attention. Teasing plagued him day in and day out. It didn't escalate to all out bullying but being unfortunately a sensitive flower of a boy, he retreated into a shell of his former smiley self.
He had friends though. Better even, he had books. Books where he could escape and forget about whatever calamity had happened, books where he could pretend he was a daring sleuth or adventurer and books where he could fantasize about grand romances. He was only 12 when he fell in love with love itself. It inspired songs, wars and best yet, beautiful poetry.
If something could churn out such intoxicating words, it had to be the best thing on Earth.
Fast forward to high school. Raivis had far exhausted the romance section of of the library and had moved on to dime store romances novels of the type great aunts would leave laying around. Cheap, quite scandalous in regards to contents and utterly enthralling.
School itself had gone from being a chore to near tortuous to Raivis despite his teacher's pet-like appearance. He still had the few friends he had in middle school but as a boy entering high school at 4'5", life was rather tough. Physical education was the worst. Scratch that, changing after physical education was the worst. He was subjugated to seeing all the muscle, body hair and masculine odors his classmates had developed when he himself was near hairless and his body clung desperately onto the the baby fat that kept it soft while still being scrawny. The one thing he looked forward to was English. It was the only class he excelled in and he lived for it.
Not only did he appreciate the written word as an art form, his imaginative mind was able to create stories and bend it to his will. 5th period freshman English class after receiving high praise from his teacher, Raivis decided that he was going to become a writer.
Raivis knew it was going to happen. It was inevitable. he had graduated from cleaning around his parents' coffee shop to becoming a part time barista. He worked endlessly to afford the one thing that he needed to be the next great novelist; a typewriter. He felt as if it was his duty to use one as did all the great modern writers did before him. Once he had saved up enough, he ran over to the pawn shop across the street, shoved all his money on the counter and lugged it home like one would an overweight but precious infant.
He had the typewriter {whom he named Emma} for all of one week during sophmore year before an..incident..occurred. Raivis had brought Emma to school to show his teacher, who, incidentally, he was harboring a major crush on. The typewriter was quite heavy for him to be carrying around but, up until the end of the day, Raivis was doing quite well. Until a much larger student, not seeing Raivis, had bumped into him, causing the Latvian to drop Emma, Emma to break near in half, Raivis to go into a blind rage and wake up at home two days later.
Some students say that Raivis actually managed to punch the guy in the groin so hard, he was rendered infertile, others say that Raivis spat in his eye and started speaking in tongues but everyone agreed that Raivis had no chance in that fight.
So embarrassed and stressed out from in {not to mention scared shitless}, Raivis dropped out of school with the permission of his parents and continued his education safe at home under his parents supervision.
Currently, he has completed high school though school work at home and is now the official barista of the Galante family coffee shop. He is also doing correspondence with the Creative Writing program at NYU.
Personality:Quiet, meek and always keen to avoid conflicts, to the very core Raivis is a gentle soul. He has non-existing self esteem but, despite that, he is an optimist. It takes him a significantly sizable amount of time to warm up to people but once he does, he is the epitome of loyalty and, to be honest, fairly clingy. Yes, the boy will have a near panic attack if stranger brushes by him but at the same time, once he trusts someone, he will near hang on them like an extra limb.
Despite Raivis' natural inclination to be a pushover, he also has the magical ability to say the exact wrong thing at very often the worst time possible. It's nearly an art form!
Another essential part of his personality is his realist nature versus his inner romanticism. Raivis very well knows one cannot survive of mere dreams and fairy dust alone but, oh how he yearns for someone to whisk him off into the sunset and for them to live happily ever after forever more! Often, he in the middle of doing tediously practical things such as actually doing his job as a barista, he finds himself drifting into elaborate day dreams. Of course, more often than not, this leads to minor accidents. The romance novels and poetry he reads clearly do not help the situation.
Another unfortunate trait of the romantic side of him is how easily Raivis' heart is set all aflutter by simple asks of kindness. At any given time, he harbors at least one minor crush who, when confronted by them, he is rendered completely incapable of basic human functions.
Despite all this silliness, the young man isn't all sugar and sunshine. He is very well aware of his cutesy appearance and, though he is ashamed of his feminine, young features, he absolutely will use them to his advantage if presented the opportunity. Also, on the rare occasion he is pushed to the edge of reason, he will lash out viciously. Which mostly results in him trying to stab someone with a flower and end up crying and hurting himself.
Raivis' timidity is chronic to the point of which, if in a dark alley, he will develop a fear of his own shadow and proceed to give himself a near heart attack every time he sees it.
Appearance:
- Hair-
Close cut, curly and dirty blond {or, if you wish to be poetic, the color of maple syrup mixed with honey}. His hair is quite fine and rather messy no matter how many attempts there are to tame it. The one thing he keeps hearing is how very soft it is, like a kitten's fur. - Eyes-
Violet. It's one of the few things he likes about his appearance due to it being an ever so slightly romantic trait. His eyelashes are nearly white and quite full. They would be quite a bit fuller if he did not have the habit of pulling at them. Raivis' eyebrows are small but otherwise unremarkable in any way. - Skin-
Very near milk pale from lack of sun exposure and prone to burning. - Height and Weight-
Raivis stands at 5'2"{157.48} on a good day and weighs anywhere from 92 lbs {41.73 kg} to 117 lbs {53.07 kg} depending on his stress level. However meager his height seems, especially compared to the average Latvian man, he has grown tremendously since he was 15 where he was a meager 4'5"{140 cm}. He still has stubborn baby fat residing on his cheeks, tummy, hips and thighs. - Others-
☼On the rare occasions he smiles, dimples are revealed.
☼His feet are quite big for his height, leading him to many a moment of clumsiness.
☼ Although his feet are larger, his hands are tiny with calloused palms and short, ink stained fingers.
☼His lips are constantly in a state of being bitten and chewed upon and his lower lip is a bit disproportionally small compared to his rather plump upper lip.
☼In regards to noses, his is a bit upturned and the perfect size for his small face.
Fashion Style:Rather slapdash. The way he dresses is not to be ironic, he is simply on a tight budget and has a pretty poor sense of style. Raivis does indeed care what he looks like, he just does not 'get' how style works. His usual attempts at being stylish amount to his collection of over sized sweat shirts paired with cargo pants-type shorts or jeans.
One thing he is keenly aware of is texture. Anything scratchy, starchy or itchy outright disturbs him to the point when he cannot focus and may, in extreme cases, get hives. The fabric of worn out tee shirts, cashmere sweaters and the fuzz of old denim comforts him.
He tends to avoid tight clothing as it makes his look even smaller than he already is. The only exception to that rule? Anything worn below the belt and above the ankle. Raivis wears girl's skinny jeans. Why? They simply fit him and the baby fat he still has around his hips, tummy and thighs better. Also, they are generally made of softer material and are far less likely to fall down.
One thing that stands out from his usual lack of fashion sense is his shoes. His old fashioned white and tan saddle shoes are his pride and joy. They were found at a sidewalk sale and he and them have been absolutely inseparable ever since. He also has a fondness of work boots. Probably due to the fact they have a slight heel to them.
No matter what the season, Raivis dresses in layers in a fruitless attempt to make himself look bigger. It more than backfires, it makes him appear even tinier. In winter, he is never seen without a rather knobby scarf but incredibly soft scarf{a home-ec project of his back in middle school}. Raivis is also rather fond of hats.
Upon formal occasions, wardrobe wise-he pulls out all the stops. Bye pulling out all the stops, what is meant is 'he ends up dressing like a six year old girl's ideal of a fairy tale prince'. The vests, waistcoats and trousers far better suit a coloring book than the wardrobe of a teenaged boy.
As for preferred color palette, he is rather entranced with dark, rich reds, creams, chocolatey browns and the occasional robin's egg blue.
Usual outfit 1:
Outfit 2:
Working minus a brown apron:
Formal {the right}:
Goals:
- Help his parents put the St*rb*cks across the street out of business
[/li][li] Have his first novel published before he reaches 21.
[/li][li] Gain confidence in himself[/font][/li][/ul]
Secret:
- Shy as he is, play a folk-ish tune and he will dance and sing along with his high tenor voice. It’s far too hard for him to resist. He is quite good at it too.
- Raivis is far more manipulative than meets the eye. He knows his appearance lulls people into a sense of security and he is wise enough to take advantage of that when needed.
- 'Raivis' is Latvian for 'Steve'. No one should ever know.
- He's afraid of farm animals, especially sheep.
- He spent months fantasizing about how the pretty librarian at his former high school would one day be so dazzled by his choices in literature that she'd write her number in the back inside cover of Sense and Sensibility, which she would casually hand to him, blushing.
Other:
- He has absolutely impeccable handwriting. Raivis takes secret pride in every flourish his pen makes.
- Raivis has the alcohol tolerance of a man twice his weight. There has never been a person he's encountered that could out drink him. {On the rare occasion he does become drunk, the Latvian accent he picked up from his mother and paternal grandparents rears its head. Trilled 'r's, difficulties with 'w's and excessively extended vowels galore!}
- While he is of the rare breed of people that texts with perfect grammar, due to his shaking from over-caffeination, he tends to make strange typos.
- At any given moment, he has three dime store romance novels with him.
RP Sample: From a Mafitalia AU
Raivis didn't usually make a habit of wandering the streets alone at night-in fact, it seemed like a rather awful idea but...well, someone had to do the grocery shopping right? All the other members of the Russian House were busy and the Latvian really didn't want to bother them with the fact that their bread, eggs, potatoes and vodka supplies were reaching critical levels.
He hummed a little tune to himself as he walked around, arms filled with grocery bags (for some reason, it wasn't thought a wise decision for Raivis to learn how to drive...) nearly having s heart attack every time a stray cat wandered across his path.
Calm down, Raivis... no need to be so jumpy...it isn't like walking around with a gallon of milk and snack foods is illegal.. Still, it was hard to shake that feeling of paranoia. Trying to bury himself in the safety of his red hoodie, handlessly, he hummed a little louder.
After singing a certain nursery rhyme to himself a good twenty times, it had very well lost its calming effect. Instead, it took on a feel of background music for a slasher film. A shiver ran down his spine at the very thought of it.
'Raivis Galante, you are perfectly safe-nothing's lurking in the shadows waiting to gobble you up..'
Of course, his inner voice would be far more soothing it he didn't hear steps coming from a rather close range and a crinkle of a bag in the wind.
Hugging the groceries tight, he looked around frantically and, much to his horror, saw something. Something much larger than a stray cat and something lurking around in the shadows.
His legs wobbled and his eyes started to well up- certainly that something was a strong person with a bad temper and a long knife....
"Whomever y- you are, please d-don't hurt me..," Raivis' voice came out weak and high- pitched- he didn't want his life to end on the streets holding onto a shopping bag full of lentils!
He hummed a little tune to himself as he walked around, arms filled with grocery bags (for some reason, it wasn't thought a wise decision for Raivis to learn how to drive...) nearly having s heart attack every time a stray cat wandered across his path.
Calm down, Raivis... no need to be so jumpy...it isn't like walking around with a gallon of milk and snack foods is illegal.. Still, it was hard to shake that feeling of paranoia. Trying to bury himself in the safety of his red hoodie, handlessly, he hummed a little louder.
After singing a certain nursery rhyme to himself a good twenty times, it had very well lost its calming effect. Instead, it took on a feel of background music for a slasher film. A shiver ran down his spine at the very thought of it.
'Raivis Galante, you are perfectly safe-nothing's lurking in the shadows waiting to gobble you up..'
Of course, his inner voice would be far more soothing it he didn't hear steps coming from a rather close range and a crinkle of a bag in the wind.
Hugging the groceries tight, he looked around frantically and, much to his horror, saw something. Something much larger than a stray cat and something lurking around in the shadows.
His legs wobbled and his eyes started to well up- certainly that something was a strong person with a bad temper and a long knife....
"Whomever y- you are, please d-don't hurt me..," Raivis' voice came out weak and high- pitched- he didn't want his life to end on the streets holding onto a shopping bag full of lentils!
OOC
Name: Chauncy
Age: 20
Contact Info: Skype: thecowardlydandelion
AIM: wictorwictor2
Website: forallthehufflepuffs.tumblr.com
Other:
And I hope that you'll know
That nature is so
This same rain that draws you near me
Falls on rivers and land
And forests and sand
Makes the beautiful world that you see
In the morning
Everything's fine in the morning
The rain will be gone in the morning
But I'll still be here in the morning