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[personal profile] ijustlivehere
PLAYER
Name: Jei
Age: 23
Personal Journal: jeilovesyou
E-mail: j.mangekyou [at] gmail [dot] com
AIM/MSN/etc: AIM: JaelaCloud

CHARACTER
Name: "Young" Neil Nordegraf
Canon: Scott Pilgrim (comics)
Age: 20
Timeline: Mid-way though volume 4: After Neil's rant about Stephen Stills turning down shows at Sneaky Dee's, but before Lisa Miller's goodbye party.
If playing another character from the same canon, how will you deal with this?: n/a

Personality:
It is important to understand, first and foremost, that Neil views himself as a victim of the world and everyone and everything in it. If something is going wrong in his life, it's never his fault or anything he can fix-- it's something that's happening to him, and it is his heavy burden to suffer through it.

Neil possesses (or, perhaps, is possessed by) a deep and abiding eagerness to please and to be loved. Neil does not and has not ever subscribed to the "Don't Care What Others Think Of You" brand of philosophy-- he cares. A lot. Sometimes to an almost ridiculous extent. Neil is a needy hanger-on, to put it simply. A startling percentage of his actions on any given day are attention- and validation-seeking behaviours. He is not above desperate measures like mimicking his friends and fishing for compliments. He will go to all sorts of extents just for a metaphorical (or, hell, literal) pat on the head.

He is remarkably easy to please, and always inclined to see the best in people and to trust anyone who seems to like (or even just tolerate) him.

When feeling shunned, ignored, or abandoned by his peers, matters can become drastic-- bottled-up feelings can spill over into angry outbursts and generally irritable and aggressive behaviour. On one occasion, Neil even resorted to smoking-- an act that, within Scott Pilgrim canon, is believed to be fundamentally evil.

All of this stems, in large part, from a low sense of self-worth-- because Neil does not think highly of himself, he feels a constant need for affirmation from others. A sense of family-orientedness probably also plays a key role here. This is not necessarily in reference to his actual biological family(though he does have his older sister Steph to thank for most of his friendships), but to the chosen family he and his friends have created-- a family that Neil is more than eager to add to, if he finds the right people.

His sense of self-expression is stunted and limited; few of the staples of his wardrobe (which consists mostly of jeans and t-shirts) were purchased any time after grade seven. Sometimes accessories and other small elements are copied from friends or other objects of admiration, such as celebrities. His style is not likely to be updated any time soon.

It is worth noting, now, that as much as Neil thinks about, and craves the attention of, other people, he is fundamentally an introvert. In social situations, he's likely to take a position outside the spotlight, and often prefers to observe rather than participate. A portable gaming device is his security blanket, and he won't go much of anywhere without one, if he can help it. In a room that contains a computer or game console but is also full of friends, Neil is likely to gravitate towards the electronics and only half-participate in the conversation. "Awkward" is, I believe, the generally recognised term. Too much time alone will drive him crazy, but not enough time alone will drive him crazier still. He takes mandatory Alone Time breaks to recharge. This often involves more gaming, marathoning sci-fi shows, or skimming through his comic book collection. Sometimes, it involves lying on his bed and listening to The Shins until he passes out. Any interruption of Neil's Alone Time is a cause for anxiety.

If it sounds like Neil has the basic mentality of an extremely hormonal thirteen-year-old girl, well... yes. He's remarkably ill-adjusted. But he hopes you will not hold it against him.

Background:

Here.

Abilities:
General badassery when it comes to video games. He spends very little time not gaming, so he's actually better at video games than he is at real life. Other than that, really nothing.


First Person:

[Neil stands with shoulders slumped, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He doesn't look like he belongs here, with his mussed hair and rumpled band t-shirt. He doesn't look like he belongs much of anywhere, really.]

Uh... guys?

[He grips the hem of his t-shirt and tugs down at it, as much as to smooth the wrinkles as to have something to do with his hands. He glances around, and okay, this is definitely not Toronto. At least, no side of the city he's ever made it to. Was this some kind of... thing? A portal, or whatever?]

I think I got off at the wrong...

[He turns back around to where he departed, but the train is already gone. He reaches into his pocket for his phone, but finds something else instead.

As with any new or unfamiliar gadget, obviously the thing to do is to push all the buttons. He works out the video function remarkably quickly, and shuts it off as soon as he does to keep fiddling with the thing. But he comes to a pretty startling conclusion...]


There are no games on this thing. Great.


Third Person:
"Mrrrrrrrngh."

He thrashed around, sleep-weary and bleary-eyed, before finally managing to untangle the offending N64 controller from his leg. He kicked the cord to the floor where it belonged. Last night had been one of those nights. A night when nothing could comfort him but good old-fashioned Ocarina of Time. To this day, nothing could possibly compare, no matter how new or shiny or polygon-free.

"Mrrrrrrrrngh," he groaned again, partially just to hear a voice. There weren't a whole lot of voices to be heard around here anymore. He'd been getting used to waking up to loud noises, though usually it was the sound of Stephen Stills letting the door fall heavily shut behind him on his way out. Stupid Stephen Stills leaving for stupid recording and never even saying good morning, or goodbye, or hell, even hi-- Neil would have settled for a single syllable at this point.

And it wasn't just Stephen, either. Kim was moving, Stupid Scott had Stupid Ramona, and Knives... no, Neil would rather not think about Knives. It would be nice to at least think about her a little less often than every hour of every day. Which he still did, by the way. And if it came down to it, he probably would have even be willing to forgive her; sure, she'd been nasty too, but at least she didn't abandon Neil after years of supposed friendship.

Neil rolled over and retrieved the controller. Might as well take another shot at the water temple, to channel his frustrations towards something productive. He thought maybe he can do it faster this time.

He was putting on the Iron Boots to sink down to a lower level when he heard,

"Kim?"

Oh, hey, a real, human voice! And not Neil's.

"Knives?" Neil winced. He wished people would stop saying that name. Preferably forever.

"Stephen Stills?" That was Scott's stupid voice, being loud and annoying at a stupid hour of the morning. Well, Neil assumed it was morning because he'd just woken up, but it's not like he'd exactly had a normal sleep schedule for the past few weeks.

"...Young Neil?" Yeah, that's cool, Neil thought. Call out everyone else's name before finally settling for me.
"Nobody's here," he answered, and tried to double down his attention on the TV screen. There was a bomb-able passage around here somewhere, and maybe if he found it, Scott would go away. He tried not to pay any mind to the obvious logical fallacies there.

"What? What about band practice?" Scott yelled.

Yeah, what about band practice, Neil wanted to know. Everyone used to be here at least once a week before they all decided that their lives were way too important to show up anymore. "Yeah," Neil called back, "I'm reeeeally the person to ask about that."

Scott's next response came back muffled and garbled, and besides, Neil was a little preoccupied with bombing the cracked wall to get through to the next passage. But he was pretty sure he caught the words "dick" and "Young Neil" right next to each other. And yeah, Scott Pilgrim was one to talk. Why couldn't he just leave, since that's what everyone liked doing so much, anyway?

"I don't know where they went, okay, Scott?" He yelled a little louder this time to try to hammer the point home.

When he turned back to the screen, he had to fight the urge to throw it out the window in rage-- Scott had distracted him, and he forgot to back away from the bomb, and his health was already low, so now...

"And now I'm dead. Great!" This game counted your deaths, too, and Neil had been trying hard to keep his record clean on this save slot.

He flopped back on the bed and tried to think about what people do when their lives royally suck. Drinking worked okay sometimes, but Neil's German blood gifted him with an uncommonly high tolerance, so getting drunk equalled expensive. He needed that money for new game releases and PangYa cookies and stuff... and yeah, school or whatever.

Stupid school could frak off and die, too. It meant that sometimes, even when Stephen was around by some miracle, Neil had class. He would never take summer classes again, no matter if it meant it would take longer to graduate.

Speaking of summer classes, Neil wondered vaguely if he should go over the material for the exam later in the week.

Well, he could do that. Or he could get back to the water temple, as long as there won't be any more idiotic distractions.

By the time Morpha was dead and bathed in blue light, Neil had realised that maybe he made a mistake. If he'd come out of his room and tried to be nice to Scott (even though Scott's an asshole), maybe Scott would have stayed for a little while or something.

But then again, why should it be his job to make people treat him better?

He propped himself up on his elbows and took the controller in hand again. Kakariko village was next-- might as well return to Hyrule, where he was actually needed.
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Neil Nordegraf

April 2014

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