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Feb. 13th, 2012 01:20 am[name/nick]: Wei
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wei_jiangling
[other characters played]: Judith :: Tales of Vesperia ::lovelydragoon
[e-mail]: jiang1ling2 [at] gmail
[AIM/messenger]: AIM: weijiangling
[series]: Something Wicked This Way Comes (book)
[character]: Jim Nightshade
A. [character history/background]: Link
B. [character abilities]: None in particular. He's a normal human 13 year old boy. A particularly observant one, very capable of climbing trees and running fast and hiding quietly, and practiced in getting himself in and out of trouble, but a normal human 13 year old boy nonetheless.
C. [character personality]: Jim is 13 year old boy, bordering on 14, but with a certain kind of maturity that surpasses his years. He's naturally curious, and the type of person who can’t just ignore something once it's bitten his interest. He's the sort of boy who would see a sign saying "Do Not Enter" and the first thing he would try to do is climb over the fence or peek inside the door. Not that he isn’t cautious--he is, when it matters, including the instinct to make up a fake name the first time someone in the carnival asks him for one--but the temptation of knowing just that little bit more (or even better, experiencing that little bit more) is, for the most part, too strong for him to resist. The carnival holds its allure even though it's dangerous, and the window left open where inside adults do strange and adult things draws him back to watch from the nearby climbing tree despite the protests of his considerably more squeamish best friend. He likes books as well; one more way of digging into those dark and mysterious things that draw his attention. At the library, Will’s father comments that Jim "wears a black hat" with regards to what he reads, meaning that he's inclined to darker choices, more likely to pull Machiavelli off the shelf than Gandhi.
That curious quality is what gets him in trouble through the course of the story, but it's also the source of his particular type of maturity. It's summed up nicely in this quote from the book: "The trouble with Jim was he looked at the world and could not look away. And when you never look away all your life, by the time you’re thirteen you have done twenty years taking in the laundry of the world." He can come across as a regular old mischievous 13 year old boy, but the truth is that he has very little childhood left in him.
That, more than anything, is probably why the carnival caught so much of his attention. The main attraction of the carnival is a carousel that made a person older or younger if they rode on it, depending on which way it's spinning. From the first time he sees it in action, Jim is fascinated and wants to ride it. Not much, just a few years forward, but he wants it nonetheless. He knows perfectly well that he’s only 13 and that's as it should be, and that the temptation of the carousel is a particularly dangerous one, but even so, that desire gnaws at him until he finally caves despite his better judgment. Perhaps he's just as aware that he exists beyond his years, and perhaps he'd feel more comfortable being 16 or so, regardless of what other, less positive effects a sudden change like that might have on his life.
But for all his ability to charge bravely (sometimes stupidly) forward into uncharted waters, he would be more than a bit lost without his friend Will. The two of them have known each other their entire lives, born two minutes apart and friends ever since. Jim occasionally gets annoyed with Will for his tendency to be more practical and less adventurous, but regardless of any arguments, he knows Will will be there for him no matter what, and he depends on that support. He seems very sure of himself nearly all of the time, but he isn't always as confident as whatever image he might project. Sometimes he's afraid. Sometimes he really isn't sure his adventuresome decisions are the right ones, or that he would be able to get through whatever trouble he might get himself into if he was only in it alone. Will is the only one who gets to see his moments of weakness. It would take a lot of time and effort for anyone else to earn that trust.
[canon chronology]: Chapter 30
[journal post]: Someone told me how this thing works, kind of like a telephone, but it talks to everyone else who’s got one. I hope she was right, and I hope it's working like it's supposed to.
She also said people here come and go, no rhyme or reason to it, and there's no way I can go home on purpose. But if anyone else knows anything different, I'd like you to tell me. I got to get home. I can't say why--my mom'll worry if nothing else, that's enough reason, isn't it?--but I can't just get stuck here like this.
[There's something urgent, desperate in his voice as he repeats:] I got to get home.
[third person rp sample]: After what felt like hours after he and Will had climbed back down off the roof and back to their own rooms, Jim was still awake. It hadn't been long, at least not nearly as long as it felt, but on another night he would have been asleep by now. On another night, he wouldn't be worrying the sleep away.
He glanced at the lightning rod he'd taken off his roof, discarded in the corner of his room. Why did I take it down, he wondered again. Why couldn't I just leave it alone? But he knew the answer. He never could leave anything alone. He had to know. He had to see what would happen. He had to uncover the secrets. Had to know about the storm the lightning rod salesman mentioned, had to know about the carnival and the rides that change people's ages, had to see what really would happen if lightning struck his house or if he got himself lost in that maze of mirrors. He was a cat slowly dying of curiosity.
I'm a fool, he thought again.
And the lightning rod still sat uselessly in the corner. Even now, he wouldn't put it up again. No, especially now. Especially with the witch still out there, waiting for another chance to mark his roof with her hideous paint. He wouldn't risk drawing her attention, not now. Not when Will had already gone back to bed and he didn’t have anyone to help him get the paint off a second time. No, it would sit in the corner, not doing its job.
He laid still a while, staring at the ceiling. It was hard to relax, with all the things that had gone on the past couple days. He wasn't one to be scared of things, not usually. But now... now was different. Now, for all he knew, that witch was headed back here to remake the mark they'd gotten rid of. For all he knew, he'd be dead and gone or worse by morning. (But maybe, just maybe, he'd get to ride that carou--no. He didn't want to anymore. He didn't.)
He climbed out of bed and went over to the abandoned lightning rod, picked it up and looked at it again. Every symbol ever made that meant protection to someone or another. He never would have believed it would have done anything, even with what the man had said. Silly superstitious stuff. Maybe he still didn't believe it now. But it couldn't have hurt, he figured. He could have left it up and maybe the witch never would have found him at all. And maybe she still would have, but it was too late to know, now. He took it back to his bed with him, held it up and still looked at it for a while, traced his fingers over a few of the strange carvings, and then finally closed his eyes.
He fell asleep with the strange contraption close beside him, some infinitely small consolation against the witch and anything else that lurked in the night.
PB: Giuseppe Cristiano
[personal LJ name]:
wei_jiangling[other characters played]: Judith :: Tales of Vesperia ::
lovelydragoon[e-mail]: jiang1ling2 [at] gmail
[AIM/messenger]: AIM: weijiangling
[series]: Something Wicked This Way Comes (book)
[character]: Jim Nightshade
A. [character history/background]: Link
B. [character abilities]: None in particular. He's a normal human 13 year old boy. A particularly observant one, very capable of climbing trees and running fast and hiding quietly, and practiced in getting himself in and out of trouble, but a normal human 13 year old boy nonetheless.
C. [character personality]: Jim is 13 year old boy, bordering on 14, but with a certain kind of maturity that surpasses his years. He's naturally curious, and the type of person who can’t just ignore something once it's bitten his interest. He's the sort of boy who would see a sign saying "Do Not Enter" and the first thing he would try to do is climb over the fence or peek inside the door. Not that he isn’t cautious--he is, when it matters, including the instinct to make up a fake name the first time someone in the carnival asks him for one--but the temptation of knowing just that little bit more (or even better, experiencing that little bit more) is, for the most part, too strong for him to resist. The carnival holds its allure even though it's dangerous, and the window left open where inside adults do strange and adult things draws him back to watch from the nearby climbing tree despite the protests of his considerably more squeamish best friend. He likes books as well; one more way of digging into those dark and mysterious things that draw his attention. At the library, Will’s father comments that Jim "wears a black hat" with regards to what he reads, meaning that he's inclined to darker choices, more likely to pull Machiavelli off the shelf than Gandhi.
That curious quality is what gets him in trouble through the course of the story, but it's also the source of his particular type of maturity. It's summed up nicely in this quote from the book: "The trouble with Jim was he looked at the world and could not look away. And when you never look away all your life, by the time you’re thirteen you have done twenty years taking in the laundry of the world." He can come across as a regular old mischievous 13 year old boy, but the truth is that he has very little childhood left in him.
That, more than anything, is probably why the carnival caught so much of his attention. The main attraction of the carnival is a carousel that made a person older or younger if they rode on it, depending on which way it's spinning. From the first time he sees it in action, Jim is fascinated and wants to ride it. Not much, just a few years forward, but he wants it nonetheless. He knows perfectly well that he’s only 13 and that's as it should be, and that the temptation of the carousel is a particularly dangerous one, but even so, that desire gnaws at him until he finally caves despite his better judgment. Perhaps he's just as aware that he exists beyond his years, and perhaps he'd feel more comfortable being 16 or so, regardless of what other, less positive effects a sudden change like that might have on his life.
But for all his ability to charge bravely (sometimes stupidly) forward into uncharted waters, he would be more than a bit lost without his friend Will. The two of them have known each other their entire lives, born two minutes apart and friends ever since. Jim occasionally gets annoyed with Will for his tendency to be more practical and less adventurous, but regardless of any arguments, he knows Will will be there for him no matter what, and he depends on that support. He seems very sure of himself nearly all of the time, but he isn't always as confident as whatever image he might project. Sometimes he's afraid. Sometimes he really isn't sure his adventuresome decisions are the right ones, or that he would be able to get through whatever trouble he might get himself into if he was only in it alone. Will is the only one who gets to see his moments of weakness. It would take a lot of time and effort for anyone else to earn that trust.
[canon chronology]: Chapter 30
[journal post]: Someone told me how this thing works, kind of like a telephone, but it talks to everyone else who’s got one. I hope she was right, and I hope it's working like it's supposed to.
She also said people here come and go, no rhyme or reason to it, and there's no way I can go home on purpose. But if anyone else knows anything different, I'd like you to tell me. I got to get home. I can't say why--my mom'll worry if nothing else, that's enough reason, isn't it?--but I can't just get stuck here like this.
[There's something urgent, desperate in his voice as he repeats:] I got to get home.
[third person rp sample]: After what felt like hours after he and Will had climbed back down off the roof and back to their own rooms, Jim was still awake. It hadn't been long, at least not nearly as long as it felt, but on another night he would have been asleep by now. On another night, he wouldn't be worrying the sleep away.
He glanced at the lightning rod he'd taken off his roof, discarded in the corner of his room. Why did I take it down, he wondered again. Why couldn't I just leave it alone? But he knew the answer. He never could leave anything alone. He had to know. He had to see what would happen. He had to uncover the secrets. Had to know about the storm the lightning rod salesman mentioned, had to know about the carnival and the rides that change people's ages, had to see what really would happen if lightning struck his house or if he got himself lost in that maze of mirrors. He was a cat slowly dying of curiosity.
I'm a fool, he thought again.
And the lightning rod still sat uselessly in the corner. Even now, he wouldn't put it up again. No, especially now. Especially with the witch still out there, waiting for another chance to mark his roof with her hideous paint. He wouldn't risk drawing her attention, not now. Not when Will had already gone back to bed and he didn’t have anyone to help him get the paint off a second time. No, it would sit in the corner, not doing its job.
He laid still a while, staring at the ceiling. It was hard to relax, with all the things that had gone on the past couple days. He wasn't one to be scared of things, not usually. But now... now was different. Now, for all he knew, that witch was headed back here to remake the mark they'd gotten rid of. For all he knew, he'd be dead and gone or worse by morning. (But maybe, just maybe, he'd get to ride that carou--no. He didn't want to anymore. He didn't.)
He climbed out of bed and went over to the abandoned lightning rod, picked it up and looked at it again. Every symbol ever made that meant protection to someone or another. He never would have believed it would have done anything, even with what the man had said. Silly superstitious stuff. Maybe he still didn't believe it now. But it couldn't have hurt, he figured. He could have left it up and maybe the witch never would have found him at all. And maybe she still would have, but it was too late to know, now. He took it back to his bed with him, held it up and still looked at it for a while, traced his fingers over a few of the strange carvings, and then finally closed his eyes.
He fell asleep with the strange contraption close beside him, some infinitely small consolation against the witch and anything else that lurked in the night.
PB: Giuseppe Cristiano
