Thomas Fitzgerald

[thomas peter fitzgerald]

THOMAS ● PETER ● FITZGERALD

| B A S I C S |
Name Thomas Peter Fitzgerald
Nicknames Tom, Tommy
PB Tom Hiddleston
Age 28
Sex male; bisexual (heart compromised)
Occupation University Professor (see last paragraph of history for specifics)
Hometown London, England

| P E R S O N A L I T Y |

Opinionated - Studious
Overall, the most distinguishing feature of all in relation to Tom would be his generally opinionated, very studious atmosphere and temperament. He has been known on occasion to impose himself and his strong views upon others and can easily be considered a bit of an arrogant snob. He takes great concern in his studies however and often will spend far more time than any other student would on a particular subject matter in order to prefect it.

Polite
Tom would best be know for his general way of politeness and manners in any given situation which may be perceived by some to be a mask. Despite his arrogance and intellectual snobbery, Tom is a decent young man who does not give in to the typical crudeness often associated with his house and the jibes they call out to the others. He has a charming, sometimes easily deceitful nature and he does try his best to get along with others: at least those he deems worthy enough.

Sensitivity
The sensitivity levels found within Tom’s person would surprise anyone who really didn’t know the young man well. Though Tom’s never been one to really brood over his misfortunes, the few of them he does have, he never forgets past pains and injuries to his inner self nor does he attempt to. He cares for his past and those in it much more than one might think possible and sometimes, on a bad day, it can become enough to set him out of sorts. He is very begrudging and if managed to be pissed off enough, it is unlikely he will sit on the sidelines and let such things pass.

Sense
Tom happens to be a very intuitive person. He can usually tell right off the bat how someone is and whether or not he will be able to stand them within a week or so but has been found to be extremely tolerant of people in general.

Selfish
Perhaps.

Determined
Tom can be a very stubborn and determined young man when he wants to be. He is always cautious when making important decisions in his life, decisions about things that are vital to his security and the welfare of those he cares about, and spends a long time on them. That said, he has amazing persistence and follows through on everything with excessive energy and rarely gives up on a task once he’s decided on it. Sometimes, most of the time, this ability to stick to his ideals turns to stubbornness and obstinacy. He will often find himself refusing to accept another's opinions or suggestions, even though the advice is reasonable and the person offering it has nothing but good intentions, and he will never back down from a challenge.

Temperamental
Tom can have a wild, raging temper when provoked. He can go on for days and even months at a time holding a grudge just as hotly as the day you said something to initiate it. He has a quick tongue, and lashes out mercilessly if driven to the edge though he will rarely be found, even in the most heated of discussions, to raise his voice very high. This said again, he is curiously hard to provoke to this point and will often take several comments lightly or let several irksome things roll off before coming to the bursting point and once near, its apparent to even the dullest of idiots.

Rubber-banded
Despite all else, Tom is a very emotionally attached character, though it might come as a surprise. His personality is as complex and impossible to decipher as a rubber band ball. Now some of you might say “oh wow, complicated” in which case he would be someone you might attempt to befriend and still be clueless about years later. Others of you though might say “rubber band ball, hah, it’s all strategy and observation.” In this case, you might be one of the few people to have the sense and awareness needed to really get to know the real Tom.

Arrogant, studious, intelligent, and driven are all words someone who knows Tom in passing might spring forth to express his character, a classmate perhaps. Clumsy, awkward, jovial and polite are the words someone who really knows him might share in an attempt to describe Mr. Fitzgerald. Impatient, inexpressive and cordial are the words he would use in order to illustrate himself, but, who is he to say?

All parts of him - the arrogant, the clumsy, the impatient - tie into Tom’s true personality in different areas. Overall he has two sides much like an amnesiac who has been fed information about himself opposite the truth of his real personality. When he was first born, Tom was often a very optimistic, albeit slightly shy boy with an evident inclination towards his studies even from a young age. He was quiet but friendly and never one to dampen any sort of situation even if there were risks of getting into trouble. He was always for the adventure mischievously enough even though anyone who looked at him once might just smile, wave and keep on going never to see the true opportunist inside, behind the awkward little boy who sat around reading all day. This side of him came soon became overpowering and as nobody ever seemed to really pay all too much attention to him, Tom turned his energies into studying and becoming a well rounded adolescent.

Overall a very interesting little one, the main aspects of Tom’s personality that are constant in his true heart, sometimes manage to shine through in a moment of perhaps childish clumsiness. Such aspects include the boy’s impossible obstinacy, persistence, optimism and determination. Stubbourn when decided, there isn’t a thing in the world that can sway Tom once his mind has been set and he’s been driven to something. Similarly, his optimism is hard to dampen and his impatience with life to ignore.

Intelligent, stubbourn, clumsy, inexperienced and optimistic are the words any true rubber band master would use to describe Tom. It all comes down to observation and trust. Not many know the truth even after having it spread out before them like this. Do you?

Talents & Skills: (I just kinda snuck his strengths in here)
- prompt
Tom is rarely tardy on his own accord and becomes very frustrated with anyone that makes him late. He always has a habit of arriving as early as is tolerable or considered acceptable and will not take kindly to being delayed, even by those he cares for. In accordance, he also does not like when guests or classmates are late to a lecture hall or do not extend to him the same courtesy of arriving on time that he does with everyone else.

- very cautious
Tom is a very, very cautious young man. He has always been very careful with those whom he associates himself and rarely makes superficial ties or promises to people he has no intention of ever seeing, or remembering again. He has always been very cautious with what he tells others as well, especially when it comes to terms of his personal life. He is not a rambler and will never become one, even when inebriated or not fully stable in the mind. Rather, instead he may become very clueless and has been dubbed an 'emotional drunk,' despite this rather uncharacteristic tendency.

- finds beauty in simple things
Mr. Fitzgerald is very appreciative of nature in turn. He enjoys taking early morning strolls and will not hesitance to admire a flower along his way. He is even more apt to remembering, in some cases, the colour and name of a flower he sees than the people he meets on any given day.

- often truthful
Tom does not like immaturity in the sense of lies and will often bring himself above this idiocy and tell the truth, not matter the occasion- unless of course it is something of grave matter or deeply personal.

- optimistic
Optimism is a thing Tom likes to think of himself of being very appreciative of. He much prefers to see the glass half full and is not easily discouraged, sometimes leading to impossible obstinacy and a stubbourn streak to become apparent in his character.

- intelligent
Above all, Tom is a very well learned young man, superior to many even of his own age and class, particularly in literature. He does tend to spend a great deal of time studying and writing and has been known by very few, maybe just himself and his sister, to even compose poetry every once in awhile. Nobody as of yet has been able to claim reading it though.

- witty
As a young intellectual, Tom has managed to accumulate sufficient knowledge of literature which at times aids him in respect of retorts but he does, by nature, have a very witty, sometimes even abruptly superior and snarky character.

Weaknesses:
- terrible at expressing himself emotionally
Tom has never been apt at expression. He is very much more likely to attempt never to allow himself to be found in a situation where it is required of him to be expressive as opposed to even shyly declaring himself. Of course, lest the need arise he may make a feeble attempt, very curtly with the deepest of blushes no matter the form of expression, but he will not like it nor is he likely to be clear or at all understood.

- easily flustered
There is not much to attribute to the fact that Tom is easily flustered. He is, and his reaction to any sort of emotion expression is always the same. Abrupt.

- can hold grudges strongly unless convinced to do otherwise
Tom does tend to have extraordinarily stubborn tendencies as mentioned and, in accordance with that, he can be resentful and discriminative if he first feels slighted. He is not one to give in easily upon serious matters but when it comes to childish disputes he will not hesitate to submit if he feels it is right.

Likes:
- literature
Literature is one of the most important aspects in Tom's life. He enjoys all sorts of classics but especially the writings of the Greeks, including but not at all limited to the Sophocles and the Symposium. Literature has been his one, if not only escape ever since he was a boy and the only real place he could truly find himself in a way that society may or may not deem acceptable.

- philosophy
Though Tom is in no manner any great dialectician, and in fact, has a rather reserved character, he has always held a particular interest in philosophy. From the earliest of his days Tom's interest in the unnatural inclination of humankind was apparent but only to him as he found himself questioning most of the morality codes in his society. He is an adamant blood puritan, or at least, his family has been by name for decades but Tom… acts the part more then he truly believes it.

- Greece
Tom has always wished to visit Greece, to sit in the seats of the Colosseum, and he has. He wishes to someday return, much to the discomfort of Mrs. Fitzgerald but he enjoys Greece very much nonetheless.

- various genre’s of music
------------ Jazz
------------ Contemporary
------------ Classical *****
Music is the other half of Tom's life, aside from literature and his studies. He is a rather gifted piano player himself and finds enjoyment of the utmost kind in playing. He does though believe that a movement of ample feeling must only be played once in order for it to fully sink in but can often times be convinced to play again by the right audience. He has always enjoyed listening to music just as much as creating it and can often be found at such places like an Opera house or the sort for an evening on the town.

- the countryside
Born and raised in on a countryside estate, Tom has always had a deep appreciation for the country. He enjoys its quiet stillness that stimulates the senses and he finds his mind clearer when he is outside of the city. He has never been one for the hustle and bustle of city life despite adapting and he will often find himself reminiscing faintly or imagining himself back home.

- mountains
Though he's never been near any mountains in any sense really, Tom has always seen this aspect of nature to be one of momentous beauty. He has a deep appreciation for art in particular that displays mountains and he finds them to have an enchanting atmosphere in a sense.

- summer weather
In his travels, Tom adapted a love for summer weather as the climate in Greece extremely pleased him. He prefers the feeling of the sun on his back any day as opposed to the nasty, sticky rain drops that soak even the most amiable to the bone.

- swimming/large, seemingly endless, bodies of water
Though not an avid swimmer, Tom has always loved the water and is much more inclined towards outdoor sports of a nautical nature as opposed to any other sports. He is not adverse to various sports, and rather enjoys them, not to mention is not a bad participant, but he adores swimming far more and is entranced by large, seemingly endless bodies of water.

- chipmunks
For some reason, these furry little creatures seem to charm him. Perhaps it is just one of those odd things in life that humans tend to accumulate but he does have a particular inclination to these furry animals.

- fireplaces
Who does not enjoy a comfortable fireplace in the dead of winter? Tom certainly does. He grew up in a large comfortable estate and is in his right used to the typical accommodations of his home, fireplaces being one of them.

- snow
Another one of those odd like accumulations, Tom prefers snow to rain. He really prefers anything to rain, but snow has a certain charm that he finds beautiful as it coats everything in a delicate blanket of white. Along with the wintertime, snow brings happiness and holidays and time with family that he much enjoys, although perhaps not with his own family so much.

- various instruments
----------------- flutes
----------------- scacciapensier
----------------- zampogna
----------------- pianoforte -- his instrument of choice
----------------- chitarra battente
Of all the instruments in the world, Tom adores manly those of Italian origin, though he is pleasantly inclined towards any instrument. He himself is rather skilled with the piano and if persuaded to play, could charm any audience.

- thick woolen socks
Fuzzy, comfortable socks are hard to find. In addition to a fireplace, Tom enjoy his socks in the winter very much and is not one to go barefoot almost ever. His favourite socks are the thick, plaid woollen ones and he would be most pleased to receive them as a gift, more than one might imagine.

- acorns
Silly little things they are, Tom enjoys them none the less. They are odd seeds, different from the norm, like him, and he very much appreciates acorns in a sense that nobody else may ever fathom.

- raspberry jam
Tom adores raspberries and jam. Together, they are one of his favourite foods, or rather, toppings. He could put raspberry jam on anything and be happy. As a boy he used to try and literally put it on everything, from salty foods to already sickeningly sweet things. Today he has a bit more tact and a sense of what to add jam to but still, his boundaries may vary from the normal human.

- being tickled
Hm. Maybe.

Dislikes:
- milk
Simply and plainly, he is lactose intolerant-- or wishes to be. Tom finds milk to be vile and revolting, despite being necessary and he will not often drink it unless it is presented to him.

- mischief
To an extent, Tom dislikes mischief. He can himself be quite mischievous, as none might ever deem possible, especially when he is in a doting, loving, very silly mood-- but immature, stupid mischief he does not like. Children are an exception but when grown men act like toddlers and stupidity is presented behind the excuse of being mischief, he does not take kindly.

- salmon
A nasty food. Tom has no particular inclination towards fish, salmon in particular, though he does enjoy other forms of seafood.

- nicknames
A source of constant irritation, especially when it comes to the female population, Tom hates nicknames. Though he does not often receive them, he will ask not to be called anything but Tom or Fitzgerald in the presence of most, if not all, he knows. It would have to be an exceptional circumstance for him to ignore or allow himself to be dubbed under any form of a nickname although it has been known to occur. His sister often calls him Tommy and others have been known to get away with Tom every so often.

- germs/ sneezing people/ being sneezed on or near-- illness
Not quite to the spastic level, Tom dislikes germs for the sole reason of their spreading illness. He is prone to colds often and does not appreciate being sneezed on at all.

- bees/spiders/creepy-crawlies
Bugs irritate Tom. He does not know why but they do.

- squirrels
Unlike chipmunks, squirrels do not appeal to Tom in the least. He thinks they very much look like rats with bushy tails and will not glance twice upon sighting one on travels or passing an image, even a glorified artistic work, of a squirrel. They are just not at all interesting or special.

- stinging nettles/poison ivy/mushrooms
As in most of Europe, stinging nettle plants are very common, especially around his home estate, and Tom has always disliked them. Poison ivy as well, his one allergy, is something he tries to avoid drastically. Mushrooms too, he finds to be nasty, both in the wild and on his dinner plate. Overall hiking off a trail is simply not appealing and Tom will rarely be found exerting himself in such an activity if not on a broomstick.

- cloudy days
Cloudy days, despite being an Englishman from head to toe all his life, depress Tom. He finds himself much more attracted to the warmer climates of the tropics and dislikes rain with a passion.

- bone cracking [e.g - knuckles, back, neck]
A pet peeve of his, Tom finds cracking of body parts to be very vexing. He despises the nasty swimming feeling his stomach gets when he hears the sound and will often frown, without comment, and turn away to try and find a distraction.

- bendy straws
Stupid muggle contraptions.

- bananas!
Nasty fruits.

- mice/rats
Like squirrels, these animals hold no interest for Tom whatsoever. They are dirty, vile creatures fit only for the worst parts of London, in the slums and down back alleys. He despises seeing them and even a glimpse of the tail will set his stomach on edge.

- waking up late
Tom is a prompt young man, and as such, he does not like being late.

- physical contact
To an extent, Tom dislikes physical contact. Hugs or touches of any sort from strangers he has a keen aversion to but with someone he cares about he is far more lenient in terms of contact though he'd never, ever be persuaded to even so much as admit it.

- stupidity in general
Tom has little tolerance for stupidity and immaturity in men his own age or older. He finds it absolutely childish and will turn a blind eye to it, ignoring the irksome truth that not everyone is as intellectually adept as he is.

- losing things
Tom is a very orderly person and detests losing things. If someone on accident moves something of his he will not be very happy and more often than not, depending, he may snap at them, especially if it makes him tardy for class.

- not getting everything done in the allotted time frame and wasting time

- boredom
Like any young man his age, Tom likes to be on the go. A moment of boredom, even fleetingly, is distasteful to him and he will often find something to do just so as to not sit idly.

- being ticked
Hn, perhaps. The world may never know.

| H I S T O R Y |
Thomas Peter Fitzgerald was born February 15th in the city of London, England. He and his family lived outside of the city for the majority of the youths childhood, only once leaving the countryside for a year abroad - spent in the industrial city of Helsinki, Finland-- in which great technological advancements were made under the Børslien trade department headed by Dr. Aleksander Børslien, in close collaboration with Thomas Fitzgerald Sr., Tom’s father. During this year aboard, Tom learned both German and basic Finnish in addition to basic computer skills and had a slight ‘toe-dipping’ as one might say, in experience with different worlds all combined into one. In other words, this was his first real experience in contact with a multitude of living styles and class distinction; he was eleven at the time his mother and their family were relocated.

The lodgings in which the Fitzgerald family kept in Helsinki where in the very heart of the technological advancement sector of the city, an area which was highly populous with men and women of various races and differing social classes that came for the sole purpose of interchanging information, systems or performance rates or to advance the technology from their own countries. It was here, after a particularly unsatisfactory half-conversation with an impatient technician, where the first sparks of a curiosity in computers and its doings eluded Tom’s imagination and failed to intrigue the already hyper-aware, literature infatuated side of the young boy much to his father’s disappointment.

Lieutenant Nichols, one Mrs. Margaret Nichols Fitzgerald, was called to active duty soon after the family’s return to England and would not see her son again. She was killed in the malfunction of a submarine onboard the Paladin a year or so after departure. Tom was thirteen at the time.

Living on a small estate along the coast, Tom grew up with a love for all things nautical due to his father’s obsession with the sea. Often, whenever his father had a free chance, the two of them would go for walks together along the beach while his mother and sister stayed home. Throughout his youngest years before school, Tom had adopted the nickname ‘jæger’ meaning ‘hunter’ which a very close family friend had irrevocably placed upon him without meaning to that was soon adopted by Mr. Fitzgerald Sr. The bond between father and son was strong and often throughout his years at school, the two would go hunting along the estate; Tom had an excellent hand when given a rifle. Overall, his childhood consisted of a fairly normal, if not boring upbringing for a boy his age and his days consisted mostly of playing around and getting into trouble with another boy his age, his best friend, Kylar Børslien.

The Børslien family hailed from Oslo, Norway where Kylar and his sisters, Aria and Heidi were born. Their father, Aleksander Børslien was the dedicated founder of the Børslien Trade Company, under which Mr. Fitzgerald worked in dealings with mostly trade and communications between countries and the international relations between Norway and Britain. The three Børslien children were a very common sight around the Fitzgerald manor throughout Tom’s childhood and the two families were practically inseparable. For a long while it was assumed that Tom would marry either Heidi or Aria and many a joking tease was expressed to the disdain of the youngsters. Alas, the circumstances that would befall both families would not allow it. The year they both turned seventeen, Kylar was killed. It was a flying accident of the simplest kind yet it took from Tom his best friend. Tom would never again be the same, rambunctious youngster he was once, though Kylar’s death helped shape him into the gentleman he is today.

Finally the time came when Tom was to enter the university. His days at the academy remotely changed and helped shape the rather immature, clumsy but very sharp adolescent and he graduated as one of the top in his class in both computer operations and linguistic communications, just as his father wished, in addition to mastering his AP literature courses. From there, he went on to get his masters degree, specializing in computer science and is taking the last of his classes in the evenings now to receive his Ph.D.

Tom currently teaches college level computing under the informational technological sciences sector at the local university in addition to hosting a number of language courses focusing particularly on German history and literature, and in his free time he hosts a literature club at the university. His heart currently lies with Aria Børslien.

| E X T R A S |

IMPORTANT PEOPLE:

name: Thomas Fitzgerald Sr; father
age: 52
occupation: International relations between Britain and Norway; co-founder of the Børslien Technological Trade Company

name: Margaret Nichols Fitzgerald; mother
age: deceased at age 42
occupation: militant; army nurse.

name: Mary-Jane Fitzgerald; sister
age: 24
occupation: editor

name: Aleksander Børslien
age: 53
occupation: head of his own compay

name: Cathrine Børslien
age: 51
occupation: CEO of the Børslien Trade Company

name: Aria Børslien
age: 30
occupation: veterinarian

name: Heidi Børslien
age: 29
occupation: currently abroad, studying medically

PET: Loki; black cat
Loki is extraordinarily lazy but when provoked he can be rather vicious. Preferring to lounge about and do nothing, this cat has been known on occasion to sneak into the kitchen and steal scraps. Mischievous when not being lethargic, he is a notorious thief and has on occasion been found to horde stolen socks.

APPEARANCE: Tom is a typical young gentleman with nothing particularly odd about him in terms of looks. He has an angular face with defined cheekbones and is fairly straight-laced and clean when it comes to his appearance. His eyes, to begin, are a striking shade of cerulean blue. They are large, round and on sunny days when he is excited, highlights of green can be seen in his pupils. His hair is an interesting mass of brown and blonde locks which bounces around messily atop his head day in and day out, rarely carefully monitored.

Technically blonde, his hair may seem darker or lighter depending on the light. It is often curled in some areas and simply prefers to stick up in every other direction-- a thing really with its own personality. Plenty of times it has gotten in the way and needed a quick, frustrated flicking aside and sometimes it has gotten to be so aggravating that he has thought of chopping it all off. He never would though. Curly and far too messy for his liking, hair is a thing of indecision with Tom. More often than not, the young man has come to the adaptation of gelling it back or to the side although for the typical school day occurrence, he does not bother. He has been known to often change hair colour as well, to say-- black.

His nose is a thing of disregard to Tom and his mouth, in correspondence is relatively even but not as amazing as one might think. With thin lips and a melodic, soothing voice, Tom is able to effectively convey an image that is a mirror representation to his true inner personality. The beauty of that image and personality though can at times questionable but generally it amounts to a very gentle sound, sometimes even a quiet monotone. (His smile is another matter altogether. Though his eyes are often said to be the most dazzling thing about him, his smile has to be the most charming but that’s up for the viewer to decided ultimately.)

In height, Tom as is generally an average young man, if not on the smaller side. He stands semi-proudly at 168 cm, around 5'5" and, with a fast metabolism and really no inclination to shovel food, he weighs only 143 lbs. Body, style, height and build are all relatively simple when it comes to Mr. Fitzgerald. He’s not the smallest gentleman you'd ever meet nor is he nearly the most thick framed or bulky. He’s simply average and slightly more on the smaller side due to his apt preference for literature and his studies as opposed to sports.

With naturally British skin tones, Tom has found that his face is quite pale during the mid-winter months and his complexion can at times fluctuate from an almost complete chalky white colour to a more pallid colour with something akin to a light blush, never even coming remotely close to the nice olive tan some acquire say, in places such as Greece. Though Tom is generally not one to burn easily in the summer, he finds little reason to worry or fret at all when it comes to his complexion. With only a few dimples to express himself in accent to a smile, his cheeks are often the only real dead give away when it comes to emotions. Turning pink and red at the slightest provocations whether it be in anger or embarrassment, Tom's cheekbones easily betray the poor young man’s most inner turmoils. With few, if any, freckles dotting his cheeks and around his nose, the man overall can’t and is generally not one to find fault in himself in any way of complaining about his face or body and doesn’t heed or let teasing offend him much either.

DISTINGUISHING FEATURES:
The most distinguishing of features for Tom is obviously, his quiet voice but he also bruises easily and has little in terms of a guarded expression. Varying in shades depending on his mood, his eyes can be exceedingly expressive if you know him well enough to tell which mood he’s in. You have to be observant for this though and not many people pick up on the fact very often. In addition, his nose is fairly small and distinguished, nothing special; a button sort of. His lips are thin and his mouth little - not something that often helps in the way of singing.

TYPICAL DRESS STYLE:
A proper English gentleman with little outside influence, Tom's sense of dressing himself consists of mostly proper waistcoats and jackets, typical of the British in the early 20th century. Though one might not care to notice, he has always been particular with his sense of style sometimes to the extent of being considered uptight and most of his clothes might only appear to have been matched by his maid. In reality, Tom double checks everything and thinks through his clothing, albeit sometimes more thoroughly than others, before ever donning a single garment. If required to dress for a more formal occasion, Tom often will become even more particular with his clothing even though in the end he may only sport a simple suit jacket with his waistcoat and necktie. Still, he is impossibly meticulous with clothing and is very diligent before going out.

He is rarely seen with any type of coat or frock even slightly resembling a Norfolk jacket, as he has a keen aversion to them, and even more rarely with any sort of what he considers tacky plaid patterns. (The occasional dark coloured pattern though is not entirely unlikely.)

As for colour, Tom's wardrobe has a tendency to range from very dark things in various greens and blues, maybe even a rouge red, to lighter tans and caramels. He does not like bright things and tends to stray from them, feeling more comfortable in his generally brown and black accented wardrobe. He does often times though like to venture out in a simple, casual waistcoat vest that, though going on a slightly different track in comparison to his usual style, is sometimes worn in the attempt to either look more laid back or to give someone who might think him high and mighty a more favourable impression.



| S K I L L S |

The S.H.E.I.L.D facilities building was not particularly heavily guarded and Loki found it unnaturally easy to slip past the little reinforcement it did have as a barricade to enter the premises. Under the rouse of a female agent, average in height, blonde and rather keenly pretty, he’d had little to no trouble managing his way. Even more so he’d actually been escorted in and the only rather difficult aspect of the entire escapade was escaping the welcoming committee and survived sneaking out towards the research departments where he soon managed to access the records through a simple mind-control of one of the other agents, now laying unconscious on the floor beside him. As he stood before the consol, Loki was quick and efficient in his hacking. He scoped out the many files scanning for information primarily on the leader of these acclaimed Avengers and managed to come across numerous tabs. As they flickered before his eyes, Loki searched for something yet unfamiliar. There was little he already didn’t known about the captain but in searching through he did finally come across a particularly intriguing category. The file was titled ‘winter solider’ and upon it Loki was soon engrossed.

Name: James Buchanan Barnes
Alias: Bucky/Winter Solider (assistant to Captain America)
Height: 5'9"
Weight: 260 lbs.
Citizenship: U.S.A.
Place of Birth:
Shelbyville, Indiana

Early Life
Born in 1925, James Barnes lost both parents early in life; mother died when he was a child and father died in an accident while in basic training at Camp Lehigh shortly before Christmas in 1937.

Here Loki paused. He’d seen a file under the name ‘winter solider’ previously. Searching through the database once more for any such information he came across a vague article concerning a Russian assassin under the same alias. Scanning both in comparison Loki soon put two and two together, an idea sparking in his already scheming mind. Perhaps he ought to pay this solider a visit. He seemed a worthwhile asset in taking down Captain America. As he scanned the last of the known information on the winter solider project, Loki gathered himself and exited the premises.

Some time later, the God of Mischief found himself standing in the heart of the motherland, Russia. As he looked about himself, Loki took in his surroundings and noted the aged, rather antediluvian structures that had long since been abandoned here. Beside him, quivering and silent was the figure of an elderly Russian man the god had… picked up, along the way to guide him. Ushering him forth with a gentle, delicate sweep of his hand, Loki smiled darkly and followed as the other shuffled forward. The trickster had come across the man not but an hour ago as he’d been on a scouting of the area where the acclaimed ‘sidekick’ was last seen. The man had been shuffling about and upon questioning had revealed to have significant knowledge of the proceedings concerning the winter soldier project back when it was still under effect. Seizing him by the scruff so to speak, Loki had been able to teleport them to the proper location and now followed in silence as the terrified man led the way to his own demise.

As the two made their way into the building of choice, Loki took in the strange appearance of this isolated sector of Midguard. It was so very frigid and unnaturally cold here. Haunted by the ghosts of a tortured past the corridors held an eerie spirit to them, unlit in their entirety. The old man shuffled along and rounded a corner into a hall at the end of which there was a door that seemed to be radiating a frigidity like nothing human. “I-it is there,” the old man said, his voice clipped and terrified. Loki peered at the door and with a gracious smile turned to the elder man. “Why I thank you, mortal,” he replied, a sinister, twisted grin stretching over his once so delicate features. The elder man was quick to bow, a squeaked “my king” slipping from his lips. Loki cocked his head to the side and sighed, almost wistfully. “How quaint, you succumbed all on your own. An intelligent figure for a mortal. It is such a shame I have no further use of you,” he muttered more to himself than to the elder man. A petrified look crossed the other’s face before, in a single fluid movement Loki flicked his wrist and turned his back. A sickening guttural gasp resonated around the darkened ice corridor as the click of footsteps continued and the sliding of a lifeless body was deposited to the ground. Loki neither looked back nor toke note of the blood pooling from the small dagger wound in the man’s chest at the foot of the entryway. His eyes were steeled on the prize ahead and he approached the door, a gleeful excitement building in his chest.

Inside the dark, rank depths of the ice blackened cavern, Loki could have smiled. Just like home. The sarcastic spite in his thoughts could have been sharpened like a blade and thrown with clear precision whence it pierced the heart of his dear brother until all but blood dribbled out of his warm, treacherous being. Thor and his deception of Asgard, deception of the realms-- deception of him, Loki -- the immortal God of Mischief; the only being worthwhile in all the realms to remain in confidence with now. Thor was the true traitor, not Loki. He was the one responsible for the havoc reeking upon the mortal race. He chose them, her, over his own brother. But, Loki could not blame him. For, after all, they were no longer blood relations. They never were. The spite slithering through his thoughts could have curdled milk and choked the life from a statue. He resented Thor, it was no secret. Loki would revel in the day he could twist an ice encrusted spear into the heart of his foul brother and watch him die, those traitorous eyes flickering out into cold lifelessness - the same lifelessness Loki had felt since that day and throughout his lifetime. The internecine path he’d chosen to mark between himself and Thor by conquering Midguard was strengthened by these thoughts and his resolve stood firm as Loki shut the door on all feelings of such nature with a thunderous clap. He had business to administer.

In silence the god entered the room further. He gazed, unimpressed at the large containment structure before him behind which the evident form of the acclaimed winter solider remained, lifeless and blue. A light quirk flickered over his lips as Loki lifted a hand and laid his palm flat against the frozen surface. With a gentle finger he delineated the curved profile of the mortal behind which his newly formulated stratagem stood as a base. He certainly was not what the Asguardian had been expecting but of course, to put much of any sort of expectation to these vile vermin was a mistake. In silence, Loki no sooner lifted his tracing finger as he took a step back and with a flick of his wrist brought forth the floating, archaic cube that had undergone so many an exploit with him since and been the source of chaotic, slaughter and hunting. As the cube glowed bright, Loki felt the now familiar tingling sensation of a thousand pins prickling against his skin, burning him as frostbite crawled up and over his flesh, deteriorating any last traces of Asguardian humanity he may have had and spreading the blue colour of the frost giants across his skin as it seeped into his pores and poisoned his unstable DNA until he was almost entirely of the monstrous race. As the transformation took place, the cube’s power was directed straight at the winter solider as he was outlined and carved like an ice sculpture out of his casing. Throughout the process, Loki could feel the coursing of power as it sped through every last nerve and cell in his frozen body. As each last spark and glimmer surged he could feel the heightened sense of supremacy and control roaring within him, a possession of rage and domination prickling at him until Loki felt the ecstatic high given off at having such a thing at his command. The slightest of finger snaps and he could make even the largest creature bow before him, forced under his control doomed to do whatever whim the God fancied to ask of it. Like an ogre on a rampage, the flood of emotions swirling within the trickster at that moment had to be capped for fear of his monster surfacing, that rage driven malicious spirit of spite. The deepest source of Loki’s qualms and his hatred for everything he’d ever suffered all fixed up to a solid creature and roaring within him, teeth razor sharp and his heart solidified against any single merciful though. He was steeled. As the sculpture wobbled and tilted forward, freed of it’s casing, Loki returned the cube to the oblivion from whence it came and watched as the statuette he’d created fell to the ground before him. It cracked and splintered but did not shatter all the while it took for feeling and the regulation of oxygen to return to the god.

As he gazed down upon the now iconic model of the still frozen being, Loki lifted another effortless hand and held it over the ice mold as a heating lamp. He muttered a few syllables in a native tongue unfamiliar to mortal distinction and a bright, blinding ray of gold erupted from his person encasing the statuette and slowly burning away at the ice that held the solider prisoner. It bled from his upheld hand like rays of sunlight trapped and channeled through his fingertips as it effectively melted away the ice until nothing but the lifeless corpse of what had once been a bionic moral lay limp on the ground. With a light kick, Loki turned him over to face upwards and studied the tortured, expressionless face. The winter solider was at that moment in time entirely stultified but he would not remain such for long.

Firstly, Loki knew he had to reprogram the mechanisms that worked inside both the hardware and internal ware of the being so that he would remain loyal and have the utmost fealty only to the God of Mischief himself and whatever task which Loki would provide he complete. If the proper manner was to be taken against the acclaimed Avengers, then the need to dissemble would arise and Loki could not risk his own, though inevitable capture this early in the rouse. No, first he needed the solider to mark the leader and then, with that done he could take on his dearly beloved brother. The recalcitrant attitude they all held was really beginning to tire him but the rest would fall in turn, nothing but flies in comparison to the power Loki held in a single fingertip. These covert operations where known only to himself and they would remain such, even as the coalescence of the winter solider and himself was brought about via the confused web of chicanery he would undoubtedly need to weave.

As the upturned face of the mortal, dead and rotting, gazed at him -- Loki knelt by the side of the corpse and raised a hand to its forehead. Once again he called upon his own unique magical prowess and with a few muttered words was able to bring about a glowing white which would prompt the other to life while still in a susceptible state so as to be washed of all free-will and programmed to whatever the god required. As his eyelids fluttered, neither opening nor remaining fully closed, Loki’s piercing gaze fell upon him and he concentrated as the internal thoughts, memories and contradictions of this mortal’s previous lives floated about his own mind like a confused frenzy of tiny daggers thrown with a little practiced hand. As the recurring themes of loyalty to the motherland surfaced, Loki rewrote them to be an unquestioned fealty to none other than himself. He prompted the being to awaken throughout the process and finally spoke with more of a higher demand than a questioned proposition. “Winter Solider, you are no more. An agent of the higher being, your king, you will now serve.”

| P L A Y E R |

Name chloe
Age 18
Gender female
How you found us proboards support
Who else do you play? none

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[βεε ღ]

Hi! I looove your app, but I have two issues with it and they both relate to his age.

1. I know your pb is only like 30, but he really looks too old to be a 24 year old. You can solve this easily, however, becausseeee:

2. Professors have to have at least a masters, usually a doctorate in their subject. If you add this to his history, it'll add a few years to his age :]]

Other than that, looks good and I can't wait for him!

[thomas peter fitzgerald]

Wha! You're so right, I'm so sorry. XDDDD I never adjusted his age or that of the others once I gave him an actual profession. xD;;;;; Sorry about that, brain derp. All fixed~! <33

[βεε ღ]

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