Post by MYCROFT HOLMES on Sept 26, 2011 11:07:16 GMT -5
Mycroft Arthur Holmes
"The Law."
OOC: Luna. This is really just a redo of Mike's app since he needed a lift.
Canon: Sherlock Holmes series
Face-claim: Aidan Gillen
Social Status: Elite
Occupation: Lawyer
Age: Thirty-six
Appearance: Growing up, Mycroft was the "fat" kid. He wasn't good at sports and ended up putting on more weight than most of the other kids because of it. As he grew up, he worked harder to get off most of his weight and succeeded, becoming rather lean by the time he graduated college. Due to extreme dieting, Mycroft doesn't have a lot of muscle; he has skinny limbs and a somewhat flat torso with a little extra skin. Mycroft has messy black hair that has substantially grown grey, more-so at the temples.
Mycroft walks with his back straight and hands at his sides. He's smooth on his feet with barely any bounce in his step. Mostly, he is expressionless, unless something really strikes him funny or offends him. In the court room, he is the complete opposite; Mycroft walks comfortably with lazy strides with his hands in his pockets, using many facial expressions to help him win the case. On work days, Mycroft wears sharp suits, while on off days, he spends the day in a t-shirt and his "lazy day" jeans. When talking, Mycroft has a soft British accent that was washed with traces of Brooklyn from living there for years.
Overall Personality: Mycroft has the right to be cocky. He excelled throughout school, skipping grades and graduating college when he was seventeen a degree in law. He is extremely smart and is able to gather and remember information like a human computer. Mycroft lacks ambition; when faced with a problem, he tends to find the simplest solution rather than going out of his way to figure it out. While all of his answers prove to be right, he never verifies.
Mycroft is very keen on keeping a routine, having each day planned out the same as the last. He lacks the energy to change it, mostly because change leaves him feeling bothered and awkward after. Privacy is a big thing for him; only a handful of people know the general vicinity of where he lives, while one or two people actually know the address. He likes having his own space, and greatly dislikes when he is bothered.
Likes, dislikes: Mycroft likes good alcohol, clean sheets, the arts, and his own privacy. He dislikes messes, the smell of gasoline, meaningless and mundane tasks, and the fact he has a mild case of asthma.
Goals, fears: The only goals he has are his goals to win whatever case he's assigned in the law firm. He is very much afraid of blood and dead bodies.
Overall History: Mycroft doesn't remember his childhood. Most of the things that happened to him in the past have been blocked out; not that it was bad, it just wasn't too important to him. Vaguely he remembers the birth of his younger brother, Sherlock, and he remembers bits and pieces of when he was growing up. When it comes down to it, he remembers from his eleventh year in high school, through graduation, through college, and up to now.
After his graduation from the University of London at seventeen, Mycroft moved to Cambridge, Massachusetts in the United States, attending a few classes at Harvard to expand his knowledge further. A year or so after moving to the States, he moved from Massachusetts to New York, where he joined a law firm, worked his way up the ranks, and made Senior Partner.
His younger brother Sherlock moved to New York not long after Mycroft did, but he did not know this until he noticed that familiar face walking down the street under the office building. Since then, while Mycroft avoided his brother, they have made a few connections with each other, going as far as having dinner once or twice. The relationship between Mycroft and Sherlock is mostly sibling rivalry. Sherlock tries to be the best as what he does, only Mycroft surpasses him in most everything. They argue and fight constantly, which is why Mycroft tends to stray away from his younger brother to avoid the confrontations.
Most Influential Event: The birth of his brother Sherlock gave him responsibilities early on in life, ones that he decided to take on himself.
Sample Writing:
Mycroft shoved his hands in his pockets, leaning his hips forward ever-so-slightly and haunching his shoulders a bit. Once they popped, he relaxed and resumed his gazing outside. People were fascinating. He always made sure to take the time out of his day to watch as they busied around the New York street below him. Why people were lured in to this city was beyond him. It was large and over-crowded. Everyone ran in to everyone on the streets. Someone who was claustrophobic would have a heart attack out there, he decided with a smile. He didn't hate New York. He was just entirely and utterly fascinated by it. That, and the location provided for wide business opportunities, which was a plus in itself.
His smile flipped quickly with the sound of his opening door.
"Mr. Hughes, what did I tell you about entering without knocking?" Mycroft asked easily with a fair amount of irritation lacing his voice, not bothering to turn around and actually face the man. "Yes, I know that your wife is expecting soon, but you have a job to do. She'll last for about two more weeks, so you have some time. Maybe if you stop asking me all of these silly questions, you wouldn't be so far behind on your work. So how about you turn yourself around, walk out of my office, close the door behind you, and return to your desk? I mean, puh-lease, you are my assistant for a reason. And if you finish your work today, I'd suggest you get some of the other work for tomorrow and the next day knocked out, too. After all, you do want to be there for the birth of your daughter, right?" Mycroft paused for a second. "And no, that tie does not match."
When Mycroft turned around, the man called 'Mr. Hughes' was standing there, the green tie clashing with his dark grey pinstripe suit, and his mouth wide open. Mycroft smiled gently again.
"How did you..."
"Good bye, Mr. Hughes."
His smile flipped quickly with the sound of his opening door.
"Mr. Hughes, what did I tell you about entering without knocking?" Mycroft asked easily with a fair amount of irritation lacing his voice, not bothering to turn around and actually face the man. "Yes, I know that your wife is expecting soon, but you have a job to do. She'll last for about two more weeks, so you have some time. Maybe if you stop asking me all of these silly questions, you wouldn't be so far behind on your work. So how about you turn yourself around, walk out of my office, close the door behind you, and return to your desk? I mean, puh-lease, you are my assistant for a reason. And if you finish your work today, I'd suggest you get some of the other work for tomorrow and the next day knocked out, too. After all, you do want to be there for the birth of your daughter, right?" Mycroft paused for a second. "And no, that tie does not match."
When Mycroft turned around, the man called 'Mr. Hughes' was standing there, the green tie clashing with his dark grey pinstripe suit, and his mouth wide open. Mycroft smiled gently again.
"How did you..."
"Good bye, Mr. Hughes."
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