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[ ooc ] james bond directory
Jun. 24th, 2020 04:08 pm|
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[ ooc ] permissions
Jun. 26th, 2014 12:29 pmbasic stats.
name: James Bond
age: 16
sex: Male
race: Human
weight: 150 lb
height: 5'8"
appearance: here
permissions.
1. triggers:
James has some pretty serious abandonment issues, mostly due to his never having had any sort of real closure from his parents' deaths. One morning he had two parents, and by the evening on that same day, they were taken from him. He never had a chance to process this or say goodbye or anything. His issues continue far into his later life.
Kincade, the Skyfall's gamekeeper, described James as having gone into hiding in the entrance-way to the on-site chapel for a couple of days, refusing to speak to anyone or see anyone. When he did leave, he was a 'different man' than the one that went in.
James does not like talking about his childhood, or anything else really about his past. He can describe some things factually, but try to dig into his emotions, and James closes up quite icily.
2. medical info:
100% human. No genetic modifications whatsoever. He is incredibly athletic with a clean bill of health. He runs, swims, climbs, dives, and is an active participant and leader of the judo team at his school.
No food allergies to speak of. He is mildly allergic to cats (but he 'grows' out of it in his later years).
3. physical contact:
If you're a pretty female specimen, then by all means, James is not going to shy away. If you're an adult trying to give the boy a hug or a pat or anything like that ... well, don't expect to be responded to with anything but disdain, disgust or the cold shoulder.
Having been forced to grow up on his own, anyone trying to baby him will not be responded to kindly. One thing James can't stand is sympathy or pity. He doesn't take well to these things because he feels as though he's being viewed as weak, pathetic, or as a child. He's quite prickly in this way.
4. romance/sexual relations:
Again, if you're pretty, around his age, and female, then there's a good chance James will try to cozy up to you in some way. As I'm playing him when he's 16 years old, nothing explicit is going to happen. But snogging, and a bit of ftb action may be possible, but I won't write smut.
He is also not going to be a terribly good boyfriend either. He gets bored easily, is incredibly flirtatious, and equally as distant. He'll dote on whoever he's got a crush on, but he won't let anyone in ... because that only leads to the possibility of future pain. (See 1. Triggers)
5. canon-puncturing:
Depending on the situation, and depending on the pup in conversation with James, canon-puncturing may be possible. Please speak to me about it and we'll see if we can work something out. Canon-puncturing for the sake of trolling is not something I'm likely to okay, but if it serves the plot or builds CR, then let's talk.
6. threadcrashing:
If it's cool with all parties involved, I am totally fine with it.
7. extra:
NA
name: James Bond
age: 16
sex: Male
race: Human
weight: 150 lb
height: 5'8"
appearance: here
permissions.
1. triggers:
James has some pretty serious abandonment issues, mostly due to his never having had any sort of real closure from his parents' deaths. One morning he had two parents, and by the evening on that same day, they were taken from him. He never had a chance to process this or say goodbye or anything. His issues continue far into his later life.
Kincade, the Skyfall's gamekeeper, described James as having gone into hiding in the entrance-way to the on-site chapel for a couple of days, refusing to speak to anyone or see anyone. When he did leave, he was a 'different man' than the one that went in.
James does not like talking about his childhood, or anything else really about his past. He can describe some things factually, but try to dig into his emotions, and James closes up quite icily.
2. medical info:
100% human. No genetic modifications whatsoever. He is incredibly athletic with a clean bill of health. He runs, swims, climbs, dives, and is an active participant and leader of the judo team at his school.
No food allergies to speak of. He is mildly allergic to cats (but he 'grows' out of it in his later years).
3. physical contact:
If you're a pretty female specimen, then by all means, James is not going to shy away. If you're an adult trying to give the boy a hug or a pat or anything like that ... well, don't expect to be responded to with anything but disdain, disgust or the cold shoulder.
Having been forced to grow up on his own, anyone trying to baby him will not be responded to kindly. One thing James can't stand is sympathy or pity. He doesn't take well to these things because he feels as though he's being viewed as weak, pathetic, or as a child. He's quite prickly in this way.
4. romance/sexual relations:
Again, if you're pretty, around his age, and female, then there's a good chance James will try to cozy up to you in some way. As I'm playing him when he's 16 years old, nothing explicit is going to happen. But snogging, and a bit of ftb action may be possible, but I won't write smut.
He is also not going to be a terribly good boyfriend either. He gets bored easily, is incredibly flirtatious, and equally as distant. He'll dote on whoever he's got a crush on, but he won't let anyone in ... because that only leads to the possibility of future pain. (See 1. Triggers)
5. canon-puncturing:
Depending on the situation, and depending on the pup in conversation with James, canon-puncturing may be possible. Please speak to me about it and we'll see if we can work something out. Canon-puncturing for the sake of trolling is not something I'm likely to okay, but if it serves the plot or builds CR, then let's talk.
6. threadcrashing:
If it's cool with all parties involved, I am totally fine with it.
7. extra:
NA
[ ten forward ] first entrance
Jun. 20th, 2014 11:37 amThere is no time for preamble.
One moment James Bond, sixteen, Secondary 4, is in Scotland, about to board a train ... and the next, he practically stumbles into the USS Enterprise, thinking he'd been about to climb down a step instead of nothing at all.
It's a strange feeling, having the breeze against your skin and then suddenly not. And it's stranger still to be surrounded by laughter and shouting, a group of ten raucous teenage boys excited to be out of Fettes and headed towards some place different, some place where freedom awaits - Paris - and then suddenly, as though he'd gone deaf, nothing but the low hum of whatever is generating the lights and air in this place and monotonous chatter.
So one can imagine the perplexed look on James' face when he finds that a) the air is still; b) it is impossibly quiet in comparison; and c) this is absolutely, definitely not Paris. Or Scotland. Or a train.
Still, there's no reason to panic. His heart may be beating a hundred miles per minute and he feels like shouting just to dispel the rising something-that-is-like-fear-but-isn't-fear, but he simply straightens, flicks off invisible lint from his blazer and observes his surroundings with the sort of concentration one might have when they're committing everything to memory.
And then he cheerfully takes the nearest empty seat he can find.
It might be at your table.
"Ah, hello."
One moment James Bond, sixteen, Secondary 4, is in Scotland, about to board a train ... and the next, he practically stumbles into the USS Enterprise, thinking he'd been about to climb down a step instead of nothing at all.
It's a strange feeling, having the breeze against your skin and then suddenly not. And it's stranger still to be surrounded by laughter and shouting, a group of ten raucous teenage boys excited to be out of Fettes and headed towards some place different, some place where freedom awaits - Paris - and then suddenly, as though he'd gone deaf, nothing but the low hum of whatever is generating the lights and air in this place and monotonous chatter.
So one can imagine the perplexed look on James' face when he finds that a) the air is still; b) it is impossibly quiet in comparison; and c) this is absolutely, definitely not Paris. Or Scotland. Or a train.
Still, there's no reason to panic. His heart may be beating a hundred miles per minute and he feels like shouting just to dispel the rising something-that-is-like-fear-but-isn't-fear, but he simply straightens, flicks off invisible lint from his blazer and observes his surroundings with the sort of concentration one might have when they're committing everything to memory.
And then he cheerfully takes the nearest empty seat he can find.
It might be at your table.
"Ah, hello."
a moment with aunt charmian
Jun. 4th, 2014 07:16 pm"Your aunt left a message. Told you to give her a call when you came back."
James looks up, then closes the door behind him. Making his way over to his side of the room, he gives his roommate a nod of acknowledgment.
"Did she say anything?" he asks.
His roommate, Quentin Jones, is currently lying in bed, the upper half of his body propped up against the pillows, with what looks like 'Rugby World' before him. He shakes his head, then resumes reading.
James isn't so much relieved, but he's glad anyway that Aunt Charmian is private about her matters as he is. There's no reason, after all, for James' roommate to be a part of his affairs, whatever those affairs may be.
He hadn't heard from his aunt since he'd returned to Kent for the summer while Fettes was closed. They didn't speak much, and it didn't seem to bother either of them. He was certain Aunt Charmian considered him something of a burden - both financially and mentally. He was just another responsibility to her, what with being the only surviving son of his now-deceased father. And he didn't want to get to know her; there simply was no productive outcome. He hardly sees her as it is, and when they lived together for those few months a year, he would spend most of his days out: hiking, swimming, walking, wandering.
James turns back to his bed, pulls off his t-shirt, and with it wipes the sweat from his brow. He'd been running, as he always did around this time of the evening - right before dinner, and right after the college's designated 'homework period', which he very rarely followed. There were only a few routines in his life that he was dedicated to and running was one of them.
He grabs a fresh shirt from the pile of clean laundry sitting by his bed. It's a little rumpled but it's clean, and that's the best anyone outside the dorms is going to get tonight.
Without a word, he leaves his room and makes his way to the phones.
It takes several rings before his aunt picks up.
"Hello? Who is this? This is Charmian speaking."
The sound of her voice is familiar but tinny. It is also taut and almost a little impatient, like whoever this is, they'd better have something valuable to say or she will be cross and isn't afraid to let that be known.
James half-wonders how Aunt Charmian and his dad got along as children. His father always spoke of his sister as someone to be respected, an 'incredibly clever and incredibly intelligent' woman with 'a good head on her shoulders'. It's likely his father left out the bit where his aunt was also 'incredibly in need of some loosening up - and maybe a boyfriend.'
"It's me."
There's the briefest moment of consideration before Charmian lets out a breath.
"James."
James doesn't respond.
"You know I don't like to bother you while you're at school," his aunt went on, "but I need to know your upcoming plans this holiday."
"Holiday?"
"Christmas, James. Christmas."
"Oh. What about it?"
"Are you coming back to Kent?"
"I didn't really consider it."
"Well," Charmian starts, "a few of my friends and I have decided it would be the opportune time to see each other. We were planning on a trip to the Alps but I need to know if you will be returning to Pett Bottom come the holidays."
For a moment, neither of them are speaking and all James can hear is the sound of her breathing.
It really wasn't like he had given Christmas any consideration. What with school, and rugby, and all the rest of it, it simply wasn't a priority for him. And did he really expect his aunt wait around for him to come back to Pett Bottom so they could not speak to each other for a couple of weeks?
Of course not.
"Do what you want," James says. "It shouldn't be a problem, finding something to do this holiday."
Whatever (and wherever) that something is.
The sound of relief is quite clear in his aunt's voice. One might dare to say that the tightness in her tone lessens. Well, fractionally anyway.
"Wonderful. I am happy to hear that. Do take care of yourself, James. And as always, if you require anything the school cannot provide for you -"
"Yes," James interrupts. "Thank you, aunt."
"Have a good holiday."
"You too."
"Bye, then."
"Bye."
The line clicks silent. James returns the phone to the receiver.
Well, that's that, then.
James looks up, then closes the door behind him. Making his way over to his side of the room, he gives his roommate a nod of acknowledgment.
"Did she say anything?" he asks.
His roommate, Quentin Jones, is currently lying in bed, the upper half of his body propped up against the pillows, with what looks like 'Rugby World' before him. He shakes his head, then resumes reading.
James isn't so much relieved, but he's glad anyway that Aunt Charmian is private about her matters as he is. There's no reason, after all, for James' roommate to be a part of his affairs, whatever those affairs may be.
He hadn't heard from his aunt since he'd returned to Kent for the summer while Fettes was closed. They didn't speak much, and it didn't seem to bother either of them. He was certain Aunt Charmian considered him something of a burden - both financially and mentally. He was just another responsibility to her, what with being the only surviving son of his now-deceased father. And he didn't want to get to know her; there simply was no productive outcome. He hardly sees her as it is, and when they lived together for those few months a year, he would spend most of his days out: hiking, swimming, walking, wandering.
James turns back to his bed, pulls off his t-shirt, and with it wipes the sweat from his brow. He'd been running, as he always did around this time of the evening - right before dinner, and right after the college's designated 'homework period', which he very rarely followed. There were only a few routines in his life that he was dedicated to and running was one of them.
He grabs a fresh shirt from the pile of clean laundry sitting by his bed. It's a little rumpled but it's clean, and that's the best anyone outside the dorms is going to get tonight.
Without a word, he leaves his room and makes his way to the phones.
It takes several rings before his aunt picks up.
"Hello? Who is this? This is Charmian speaking."
The sound of her voice is familiar but tinny. It is also taut and almost a little impatient, like whoever this is, they'd better have something valuable to say or she will be cross and isn't afraid to let that be known.
James half-wonders how Aunt Charmian and his dad got along as children. His father always spoke of his sister as someone to be respected, an 'incredibly clever and incredibly intelligent' woman with 'a good head on her shoulders'. It's likely his father left out the bit where his aunt was also 'incredibly in need of some loosening up - and maybe a boyfriend.'
"It's me."
There's the briefest moment of consideration before Charmian lets out a breath.
"James."
James doesn't respond.
"You know I don't like to bother you while you're at school," his aunt went on, "but I need to know your upcoming plans this holiday."
"Holiday?"
"Christmas, James. Christmas."
"Oh. What about it?"
"Are you coming back to Kent?"
"I didn't really consider it."
"Well," Charmian starts, "a few of my friends and I have decided it would be the opportune time to see each other. We were planning on a trip to the Alps but I need to know if you will be returning to Pett Bottom come the holidays."
For a moment, neither of them are speaking and all James can hear is the sound of her breathing.
It really wasn't like he had given Christmas any consideration. What with school, and rugby, and all the rest of it, it simply wasn't a priority for him. And did he really expect his aunt wait around for him to come back to Pett Bottom so they could not speak to each other for a couple of weeks?
Of course not.
"Do what you want," James says. "It shouldn't be a problem, finding something to do this holiday."
Whatever (and wherever) that something is.
The sound of relief is quite clear in his aunt's voice. One might dare to say that the tightness in her tone lessens. Well, fractionally anyway.
"Wonderful. I am happy to hear that. Do take care of yourself, James. And as always, if you require anything the school cannot provide for you -"
"Yes," James interrupts. "Thank you, aunt."
"Have a good holiday."
"You too."
"Bye, then."
"Bye."
The line clicks silent. James returns the phone to the receiver.
Well, that's that, then.
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