Post by billybob on Aug 2, 2011 20:48:59 GMT -5
JULIAN MATÍAS CASTILLO-SOTO
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► FULL NAME: Julian Matìas Castillo-Soto (introduces himself as Julian Castillo).
► NICKNAMES: Jules, Julie, Castillo, Juan, Jose, Chihuahua.
► PLAY BY: Johnny Depp.
► SEX: Male.
► AGE & DOB: January 25th, 1927
► NATIONALITY: Spanish.
► SEXUALITY: Heterosexual.
► MARITAL STATUS: Single. (hey, ladies~)
► OCCUPATION: Manager of the Royal Shakespeare Company.
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► HEIGHT: 5’10”
► WEIGHT: 149 lbs.
► BUILD: Very muscular, but a little on the skinny side.
► SKIN TONE: A nice, healthy olive that tans easily.
► DISTINGUISHING FEATURES:HIS FACEHe has some piercings (three in his left ear, one in his right), and more than a few tattoos that he’s accumulated over the years.
► LIKES: spicy foods, anything with a kick; women, fast and hard; theater, the love of his life; business, even though one can never truly enjoy it; wide-brim hats, a love passed down by his father; interesting people, no matter what kind of ‘interesting’; sweet foods, especially cream-filled pastries; soft colors, nothing distractingly bold or bright; cats, or anything overly fluffy; people, plain and simple
► DISLIKES: rain, it always seems to ruin the best of plans; beaches, because you can never, ever get the sand out of everything; talkative people, though he’s probably one of them; horses, or basically anything with hooves; dull foods, which he’s found plenty of in good ol’ London; rude people, those that go out of their way to cause damage; pain, in any of its forms
► OVERALL PERSONALITY: The first thing you probably noticed when you looked at Julian was his face. Don’t worry, admitting it won’t hurt his feelings; in fact, it’d probably make his day a little bit brighter. Julian is an attractive man, one that knows he’s attractive, and likes to flaunt the fact. That said, he won’t go throwing it in your face. He’ll be subtle about it, flick his hair a couple of times, give you that dazzling smile he’s so well known for. He’s a charmer, that one, and he’s not ashamed of it in the slightest. Coming from a background with little money, he knows how to use what’s given to him; every little advantage, anything that’ll get him one step ahead of everyone else, he will exploit to the fullest. He’s not a mean guy, not at all. It’s just, he knows who to really look out for in this world, and that person is yourself.
When he’s not in a crowd, though, stunning people with his rugged Spanish charm, he’s... not that much different, actually. He’s not the kind of man that uses duplicity to trick people into thinking he’s something he’s not; honesty is his middle name
Like any person, though, he has his ups and downs, but, unlike other people, when he crashes, he crashes hard. He has random fits of depression, not bad ‘I want to kill myself nothing is fun anymore’ kind of depressions, but ‘why is this ice cream so cold i hate the world’ kind of depressions. They’re usually caused by incredibly silly things, like his cat scratching up the couch or his favorite socks disappearing. He’s the king of melodramatics, there’s no denying it. Any little thing can send him flying, so if you’re skittish and easily frightened, it’s best you don’t interact with him. Surprisingly, though, he does have moments of quiet, though they’re usually the calm before the storm. He’s an insightful kind of fellow, and does know when to quit, even though most would think otherwise. He does his best not to be annoying, though it doesn’t always work, and he only has the best intentions at heart
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► HOMETOWN: London, England
► CURRENT RESIDENCE:
► FAMILY: Adelina Soto-Rivera, mother, housewife
Lorenzo Castillo-Mendez, father, retired
Horacio Castillo-Soto, brother, poet
Marisol Castillo-Soto, sister, deceased
► HISTORY: Julian was born in London to immigrant Spanish parents, one fluent in English and ready to take on the world, the other stumbling along and perfectly happy to stay at home for the rest of his life. He grew up in a small house in the outskirts of a big city, something that would be called the slums to practically anyone, but, to him, it was paradise. A lot of the other families were like his own; travelling to a new land, hoping to find possibilities they hadn’t seen in their other one. Not all of them were Spanish, though. Irish was prominent, along with French and quite a few Slavic natives. All around him was culture, and he thrived in it. The first of three, he took his title as big brother very seriously and made sure that his siblings were protected at all times, holding their hands whenever they ventured outside and helping them skimp out on chores when the need arose. His parents were very forgiving of this; his mother was much of the same nature, jittery and happy, a creative woman that allowed any of her children’s fancies the upmost attention. She could sew, braid, draw, write, practically anything but cook. His father was the master chef, a man that controlled the kitchen with an iron fist, but gave the best rewards when his demands were met. He was a quiet man, strong, always there when one of them scraped a knee or hit their head. While their mother skittered around in the background, his father took care of business, making sure everything ran smoothly.
Their family was never rich, though they were never exactly poor. Money was tight, but Papa always knew how to stretch those last few cents, and Mama was a master of distractions. After Julian finished school he went immediately into the workforce, gaining a couple of jobs to help support his parents while they raised their younger siblings. He picked up quite a few things from his parents; how to talk to people when you wanted something, frugality, to always be optimistic no matter what the cause. His younger sister died when he was nineteen, of pneumonia. She was only eleven, and the loss hit him hard, though it hit his parents and his brothers the hardest. While his world crumbled down around him, he stood strong, supporting his family in their time of need. He never allowed himself to crack once in their presence, and it was only at her funeral that he cried. None of them could afford for him to be weak. His work was what supported all of them.
After Horacio graduated, though, and neither of them needed to be supported so, the need for money lessened, and Julian wandered, allowing his interests to take him farther and farther away from his family. Theatre had always been something he’d wanted to pursue, and he allowed himself that indulgence, trying out for a part but ultimately being rejected. It was only after a scathing remark from one of the other hopefuls that he realized this wasn’t what he was meant to do. Becoming a manager, though, had come completely out of left field. He’d always been good with business, his father having made sure to explain every aspect he understood of it to his oldest son, but having it become his life had never occurred to him. He’d taken the job on a whim, just to see what would happen. And he was picked.
The moment he was boosted to manager status, his life was chaos. He was young, only twenty seven, and the prejudice against his age, along with the huge workload, was hard. After a couple of weeks, though, things began to settle down, and he transitioned into the part, becoming the perfect advertiser, accountant, and supervisor.
Will had been an unexpected bonus to the post. He came in quite a few years after Julian had already settled in, and, even though the manager was friendly with all of his cast and crew, he and Will struck it off unexpectedly well. Now, even though they’ve only known each other for a few years, he’s already become a big part of Julian’s life. Not by choice, not really; Jules just has a habit of drifting back to the people he finds interesting.
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► ALIAS: CHARLIE GNARLY MARLEY. or just charlie. c:
► OTHER CHARACTERS: Mr. Nadie Nada IV.
► WHERE YOU FOUND US: CAUTION.
► ROLE-PLAY EXAMPLE: What Azazel did when he was alone was open to interpretation; Angel liked to think that, in his spare time, the demon-like mutant teleported across the world, kicking puppies of all shapes and sizes. Riptide was fairly sure he spent the entire time whacking off. Emma knew, but she liked to keep petty information like that to herself, to taunt the others with. What went on behind Azazel's locked door was a topic that frequented many a bored conversation, and if they'd known what he was really doing they would never have believed it. He spent the whole time sitting on the floor.
It wasn't really just sitting; it was a relaxation technique he'd learned, something that was meant to clear your mind and relax your body. Emma loved to mess with him while he was in this state, his mind wonderfully open and so susceptible to being probed. She could be a bitch sometimes, that woman, and because of her he changed his schedule, only doing the technique on particularly rough days, or days when Emma was gone. It was in the middle of this meditation-like state that Jean caught him, her voice startling him out of his trance. God, that woman always managed to find the worst times to call him. The interruption was completely welcomed, though, because the day wasn't an Emma's-gone-let's-party day, but rather a Emma's-going-to-murder-us-all day, and Jean was just a perfect excuse to escape. His clothes weren't really suited for traveling around the world, just a button up shirt and a pair of slacks, but when did he ever care about appearances? Exactly. He was gone before Emma ever had the chance to catch him.
Whenever Jean called for him, there was usually a reason behind it. She was tired and in need of some amusement, or she'd ended up in Africa when she'd really wanted to go to Asia and had no idea what went wrong. Every now and then, though, she'd call him just so she could test him, see how far she could push him before he snapped. As he materialized in what he'd come to recognize as her room, he knew this was going to be one of those times. What in the world was she wearing? It was ridiculous, but all of a sudden he found he could care less about what was practical. His tail whipped about behind him as he drank in the woman's appearance, a smirk forming on his lips as he decided that, yes, he did like what he saw.
"Red, I'm bored. Come find me?"
Ah, that nickname. It was so simple, so silly and yet so endearing. She wasn't the first to call him that and probably wouldn't be the last, but he still enjoyed it oh so much. His smirk widened into a grin as he watched that scantily clad body disappear, cleanly, leaving behind nothing. But there was always something. He moved forward, taking just a split second to acknowledge that faint pull, the residue of her departure that made it so easy to follow. It was a flaw, something that would probably need to be fixed, but for this little diversion, it was completely harmless. He wondered what would happen to the game Jean had created after they'd eradicated the residue. He would miss it. But for now, he let his mind follow the tug that led him to where she was, where that skimpy little get up awaited. The pursuit would probably not end in anything; more often than not he was simply left frustrated, watching and wishing as she disappeared. He always followed, though.
As he materialized into this new place, his first realization was that it was really fucking cold. The second was that Jean was standing not too far away, obviously not affected in the slightest and looking way too smug for his liking. Damn her and her mutation to hell. He moved closer to her and let out a barking laugh, amused as much as he was pissed. "Oh, my little Imbirʹ. Your wardrobe may improve but your choice in places does not." His accent was thick, his voice wavering in the cold. Where were they, even? It did not matter. He moved a little closer to her, smiling a smile that still managed to look put together and very suave, even in the below zero temperature. "Let us go somewhere better, yes?" He cupped the side of her face with his hand, feeling her soft skin under his rough hand, and almost instantly they were standing on a beach, their feet burrowing into the snow-white sand. The drastic change from cold to hot left him feeling ill, but he ignored it, instead taking the chance to move ever closer, tilting Jean's head up so that they were merely inches apart. His tail wrapped lazily across her waist as he placed his other hand on her hip, and he smiled again, sharp teeth on full display. "Better?"
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