Post by callum lamontagne on Aug 16, 2010 14:33:22 GMT -8
callum ajax lamontagne
[/i] once, regardless of danger or risks.
name: Birthe
age: Twenty-four (yeah...still 23...)
gender: Female
writing experience: About seven years RP-ing, and many more just writing!
how’d you find us?: Pamela lured me over.
a favorite book: Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad.
other character(s): Caden Baynham
name: Callum Ajax Lamontagne
age: 24 years
citizen? upper or lower schooling?: Upper schooling.
previous residence: England until he was seven, when the family moved to New York City, United States.
eye color: Brown.
hair color: Dark brown, verging on black.
height: 6'
distinguishing features: Gauge in his left earlobe, left cartilage pierced once, left tragus pierced once, right lobe pierced twice. Pierced lip, right side. Pierced nipple, left. Pierced nose, left side. Koi fish tattoo on his left upper arm/shoulder. Black star tattoo on his left lower arm, outside-left. Tattoo of roses on his left inner arm. White star tattoo on his back, left shoulder. D in script on his neck. Tribal-like tattoo on his chest, just above his right nipple. Another rose tattoo on the back of his right calf.
four good personality traits
four bad personality traits
three quirks
is sometimes intentionally absurd.[/ul]
important people
history
It was England, the sun was out, and from the moment his father saw Callum and Phineas side-by-side in the hospital, he was convinced that Callum's twin brother would be the problem. They were the first children he and his wife had produced, and while his wife rested in her hospital bed after the long and difficult birth of the two boys who had not given up without a fight, he started making plans. Phineas was kicking and twisting in his bed, unruly and dissatisfied with his situation, while Callum lay calmly and gurgled his first sounds; it became clear to him that Phineas would be the source of any headaches his wife would suffer, and thus, it was Phineas that would require most of his attention. His darling wife would have the easy twin, the quiet one, the easily satisfied, because it would be clear to anyone who knew the couple that if there was overwhelming energy in their children, it would come from their father, and it would be their father's job to contain it. And so from the first day, the twins were divided, despite the bond of twins that existed between them: Callum was primarily under the care of their mother, and Phineas was primarily under the care of their father, despite being, for the most part, in the same house, and even in the same room.
For the longest time, it even seemed that his father had been right in his assumptions: Callum was a quiet child, easily occupied with his own toys and his own thoughts, happily seated at his mother's feet by the sofa, or in the middle of the kitchen floor while she cooked, and reluctantly straying very far from her, should the need arise. He acted as though he was alone, much of the time, engulfed in whatever little project he was occupied with at any time, but demanding the opportunity to break out of his little world from time to time to hold his toy of choice up to his mother and tell her to look, to take in his progress and give him her approval. It was all he needed, and he carried on, studying his toys as much as he played with them, and as he grew, starting to take them apart, destroying both his own toys and his brother's in a growing quest to understand, to see what his belongings were made up of, and how their parts fit together. And occasionally, eating a part or two - children will be children, after all.
There was, in time, a plethora of toys to choose from. His parents' reproduction didn't stop at Phineas and Callum, not at all; seven children would follow, and the next four followed one after the other, divided over a period of three years, with the first child arriving when the twins were two. The first little girl in the household was an odd creation, to Callum, and he was fiercely jealous of the attention she received from his doting mother - attention he would rather have for himself, and was used to receiving the brunt of. He became difficult for a while, throwing little tantrums when he was forced to sit with daddy instead of mommy, and objecting strongly when his mother went off to tend to little Vivienne, and left him behind. She found a way to involve him, however, in time, by bringing him with her when she cared for his younger siblings - first Vivienne, then the second pair of twins, Francis and Isabelle (Francis was of utmost interest; a like creation in this growing group of alien beings known as girls), and then Aaron when Callum was five - and allowing him to help in what little ways he could. He was not entirely satisfied, but content, nonetheless, and as he grew older, became more and more content. Eventually, his father became more interesting, as well as his twin, and he strayed more and more from his mother to be with them. But as time passed and Callum grew, not even they could interest him as much as his own explorations could, especially following the family's move from England to the US, to the unexplored territory that was New York City.
It started becoming pronounced around the time Tiberius was born. Callum was eight, and enjoying a higher freedom of movement; he could be alone in a room, without demands of parental supervision at all times, and was free to move almost wherever he wanted in the house, excluding his father's basement studio. He had been in school for two years, and his inquisitive, bright mind had been apparent from day one: He was a quick study, and an interested pupil, who functioned like a sponge in classroom settings, and always had just one more question. At home, he was the same, but a newfound independence also began presenting; he would rather go on tours of exploration on his own (or bringing Phineas with him, or little Vivienne, who trailed after her older brothers like a shadow), and discover what the world had to offer. He longed for exploration outside the realms of the house, and further outside the realms of the backyard, or even the street they lived in. At one point, he managed to sneak away while her mother was caring for one of the younger children, and his father was drying Isabelle's tears after a chance encounter with an unexpected step, and crept out the front door, down the steps and the walkway, and started down the street. Years later, his parents would still express their gratitude and relief that a friend of the family should happen by for a visit just as he'd reached the end of the block, and was around to scoop the reluctant boy up and carry him back to the house. His parents' scolding and stern punishment was of little significance next to what he had really lost: The chance to explore. Perhaps it was then the seed was planted, with his father's calm words after the dust had settled: One day, when you're old enough, you can go wherever you like, and we won't stop you.
His curiosity grew along with his adventurous streak, and the tendencies to take apart his toys and puzzles evolved into a tendency to pilfer household appliances as he got older, and take those apart instead. Their components fascinated him, and he wondered how they were put together, and how they worked; how are TV signals transmitted, how does light appear, how does sound reach him, how does a microwave heat food? He was curious to know it all, and believed that if he only looked close enough, the answer would make itself apparent to him. The result? Appliances turned into wrecks, with integral parts in their creation scattered across the house, having been discarded arbitrarily as soon as Callum realized that the answer to his question was not evident in the parts themselves, and it even resulted in near-disaster. He was nine, he had a fork, he had a toaster, and he lacked the common sense to disconnect the power chord. His mother arrived in the nick of time to pry the device and fork out of his hands and hold him tight while sounding heaving sobs at the thought of how the situation might have ended. Much to Callum's discontent, she would give neither toaster nor fork back after the near tragedy, something that struck him as wildly unfair then, but as he grew older, began to make sense.
When he reached eleven, the last addition to the Lamontagne household burst into existence - a term Callum himself employed to explain the situation - and Callum began to feel the pressing closeness of the people around him. He shared his space when he wanted to, retreated to his own when he felt like it, and was both active in the household and passive, close, and distant. He adored his siblings, especially Jackson, the youngest (Phineas, of course, was in a special position, ranked higher than the rest), but found them, at times, to be too many. He never had any problem making himself heard in the household: Far from the loudest one, but not nearly the quietest, he enjoyed bursts of productivity and tomfoolery that were followed and preceded by periods of silence that could be deceptive to the less trained eye. His father had been wrong: If anyone could be blamed for any gray hairs that his mother might develop, it was Callum. His antics grew larger, more absurd and more pronounced: Taking apart the car's engine and spreading the parts out on the front lawn, quietly encouraging his younger siblings to perform whatever activity their nonsensical childhood minds could think up, climbing flag-poles, climbing traffic lights, climbing walls and breaking into empty homes, all carried out by a boy who seemed, at first sight, harmless, calm, controlled, far from a problem with his charming smile and eloquent speech (at least for a boy his age). But he was acting out, without even meaning to; his natural independence and stubbornness presented more and more every day, along with his adventurous streak and growing curiosity. At home, he was introduced to the cello by a father who had hoped to instill musicality into his children, and who also hoped that the instrument would calm Callum down like the violin had calmed him down, in his day. He enjoyed the instrument, enjoyed figuring it out and the ability to create he was handed along with it, but it could never compete with numbers, with devices, with engines, miniscule electronic parts and calculation.
In school, he did well. His work was handed in on time and got top marks, and he excelled in maths and sciences, showing great promise in anything analytical. But as he grew into his pre-teens, his desire to know grew to include human beings and society, too. He learned that society has rules, and the best way to understand how these rules really work is to challenge them, and as it happens, this turned out to also be the most entertaining way of seeing how they function. He was a social being, and he grew to be driven by something of an adoration of his fellow man. He discovered romance, and with it girls, and later boys, and one girl in particular - Dana - who would determine his romantic life for years to come. Not because she was so special to him, and not because their love was an exceptional one, but because she opened the door to multiple relationships. A believer in polygamy and a girl who already boasted two boyfriends and four girlfriends when Callum became one of her special someone's, she opened Callum to the idea that a human being didn't have to surrender their heart exclusively to one person. Better to share it with several, and with a natural interest in his fellow man and attractions that ranged from the coy to the arrogant, from hesitation to confidence, he found no difficulty in doing this. For every time he announced that he was in love, three other loves would pop up. He became involved in his girlfriend's circle of someone’s at first, until it expanded beyond that, to where his denouncement of monogamy could be a problem, and was a problem. He discovered the golden rule of multiple relationships: Honesty, staying mainly with the like-minded (a rule that was difficult to follow, if not impossible), but never learned to shield his heart or reign in emotions. He felt genuine caring for each person he was with, profound interest and even clearly loved them, but could not fully embrace the idea of the single relationship.
He graduated high school with honors, and decided on a whim to turn down every yes he'd gotten from every college that wanted him. Instead, he would explore, see the world, travel; access to a trust fund had been granted to him upon his eighteenth birthday, and with that money, a world of doors was opened up for him. He packed a bag and caught a flight out, barely informing his family of his departure before he was gone, back-packing through Europe, venturing into Asia, settling for short amounts of time in smaller towns or bigger cities, crashing on the couches of random people he got to know, travelling light and living lighter. 'A girl in every city' came to apply to him; he'd later claim that he'd never loved as much as he did in those more than two years he spent on the road. But eventually, his interest in constantly moving diminished, his thirst for experience was satisfied, if not stilled, and he longed for the family he'd only communicated with through post cards and phone calls for the past two years (and perhaps more than anyone, he missed his brother, Phineas). He ended in China and caught a plane back, and placed his last on-the-road call home from a pub down the road, hoping that his father, who had always seemed positive to this experience, would answer, rather than his mother, to whom he knew he'd have some apologizing to do. He was out of luck: She answered the phone, and in a hesitant tone, he uttered the first "mommy" he'd uttered since he was a child, in the informal greeting, Hi mommy, I'm home... The pet-name did him no favours.
Things were strained for a while. He came to realize that in his two years of experience and delight, he'd left his mother in perpetual panic, concerned about her son's well-being and whereabouts, and now that he was home, her relief at his safety transformed quickly into hurt and disappointment at the way he had left so suddenly and kept her in concern, manifesting into something akin to anger. She had lived her worry for two years and five months, and with him back in the house, she was forced to relive the experience every time she overheard him sharing his stories with inquisitive siblings and his enthusiastic father. He learned to keep his sharing behind closed doors, and learned to tone it down around his youngest siblings (completely leaving out stories akin to the one where he spent three days hidden away in a Turkish basement after he'd sweet-talked the wrong man's wife - the woman's brother, who explained that it was his sister's style to be sweet-talked by visiting out-of-towners, was amused by the situation, and gave Callum a place to hide until the husband and his friends gave up their preliminary search, and Callum could sneak undetected out of town), and eventually, he stopped telling the stories altogether. He began the careful job of reassembling relationships he'd left in his wake before he went on his travels, paying close attention to the slowly mending relationship with his mother. He would stay at home, he decided - she'd always wanted her children in her house until they finished their education - find work until he figured out what his next step would be, and try his hand at stationary living.
It was difficult to adjust to the crowded, bustling state of his home with constant interference from siblings with seemingly no concept of personal space, and to the state of repetition that his days now started to offer him. He found work at a garage, having early discovered a fascination with cars, specifically their engines, demanded the right to pay his parents for room and board (a small indication of independence), and looked into education again, planning for a future of engineering. He enjoyed the time with his family, enjoyed playing music with his father again, spending time with his twin, looking after his youngest siblings, and although he and his mother voiced frequent disagreements, he enjoyed having her back in his life, too. But it was undeniable that the life in his New York home was not the life he'd grown accustomed to and come to love in his two years away. He began to feel boxed in and crowded, and discovered small ways of escaping. He'd go on smaller trips during the day, on days off work or in the afternoon, exploring the city he'd lived in most of his life, he'd find people in different situations than him and become a part of their lives, as they became a part of his. He found Caliban in the Bronx in his third month back home, and for a while, he was his second home. It took him a day to start loving him, and several months to realize how destructive his love was for him. He was still seeing other people; two girlfriends, and no inhibitions in his interactions with people who interested him, and Caliban's insecurities flared in the quietest way possible, time and time again. He became a leading importance in Callum's life, taking precedent over most others, and becoming equal to his family - the family he never introduced him to. He brought him with him as he explored, taking advantage of Caliban's tendency to go along with anything he suggested, and occasionally, they'd disappear together, for a day, for a weekend, maybe for a week, on their little trips. He spent less and less time with his others, and focused on Caliban, his mystery and his delight. Their dreams were similar, but at the same time, vastly different, and after seven months, their impending demise became apparent.
He'd become restless, anxious to move again, and an opportunity presented itself in the nick of time: A group of friends were going to France, would he like to come with? It was exactly what he needed, a longer stint of time away from home, more space to explore - although he'd visited France already on his travels, he'd only seen the Southern and Eastern parts of the country, so far, and had always enjoyed the birth-country of his ancestors - and he hoped Caliban would come with him. The answer was a resounding no from the anxious boy whose only travels outside his home in New York had been with Callum, and an overseas expedition of unknown duration (no longer than a month, Callum assured him) was something quite different from tours of the surrounding states and areas. Callum still went, assuring his significant other that he'd be home soon, and they'd be together again, but it was the peak of misfortune that he should then discover Saint-Michel on his second week of French exploration. He was in love again, this time with the beauty of the place, its location, its vibe, its feel, its everything, and it was to his great joy and satisfaction that there was even an educational institution in the town: Académie d'Ouvrard. He'd been looking into higher education for a while, his intention always having been to settle somewhere and get his degree in some field of engineering (electrical was appealing, but so was mechanical), and so it seemed that his encounter with Académie d'Ouvrard was nothing short of Fate. He rushed back to the States, eager to start the application process and announce to his loved ones that he'd found the location where his foreseeable future rested.
Certain members of his family were worried that they might never see him again, now that he'd fallen so in love with an overseas location - they didn't know how many other overseas locations Callum had fallen deeply in love with, yet successfully moved on from - and had even found a cause to stay put there for a few years. Still, there was excitement because of his excitement, and relief that at least this time, he was informing them in advance. Then there was Caliban. At the end of the application process, he knew, should Callum get accepted - and Callum's previous academic achievements made it likely that he would - he would be leaving him, and they would no longer be. Again, Callum asked him to come with him, already knowing that Caliban couldn't possibly leave the only family he had - his aunt - in New York, and sail across the seas with him. The answer was a quieter no, but they decided to stay together until the answer from the Academy was back, and then until Callum had to go. Getting on the plane would mark the end of their time together.
He promised himself entirely to Caliban for the remainder of his time in New York. He gave up on his others, and even his family saw less of him than Caliban did for the longest time. When his acceptance letter finally arrived, he stayed closer still, attempting to comfort, but achieving the exact opposite. His mood had been darkening since the day he told him he was leaving, his childhood disorder - the one that had instilled a desire to protect in Callum since the day he discovered it - becoming more and more apparent the closer their parting day came, and when there was only a week left, Callum saw a very different person in Caliban than he'd seen the first day he met him. He'd shattered him with selfishness; their time together hadn't been a love for the ages, but a period of destruction for the one person he'd meant to shield from harm. Wishing to cause him no further pain, he left him then, one week ahead of time, and spent the rest of the time in the company of his family, alone. A week later, four years and three months since the last time he'd done so, he left them, too, got on a plane and set off for France, feeling none of the sweetness he'd thought he'd be experiencing when the time came, but instead, an overwhelming bitterness at what he was leaving behind.
if you could be anywhere, where would you be? "For now, right here. But in a moment, it'll be anywhere else - really, you shouldn't plan these things. Just go. You'll land in the right place. That being said - I'd love a whack at North Korea."
character’s play-by: Max Barreau
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allegmagne
arcséne
juliette bennet, more tbd