OCEANA / oliver gunn (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
fuckingcool) wrote2014-07-27 09:56 pm
fuckingcool) wrote2014-07-27 09:56 pm
beep boop
OUT of CHARACTER
Name: Jo
Other characters: Anna of Arendelle
IN CHARACTER
Name: Oliver Gunn / Oceana
Fandom: Hunger Games OC
Canon point/AU: Current game timeline
Journal:fuckingcool
PB: Adore Delano / Danny Noriega
History: Oliver was born and raised in the Capitol, never wanting for anything, in blissful ignorance of the suffering beyond the walls of his city. His parents, Cassia and Belsasar, weren't exactly the most attentive parents: they'd often drag him along to parties and then leave him to his own devices. This meant that Oliver had to find ways to entertain himself, and though he wasn't quite an outcast, he usually found that his interactions with other Capitolite children were stilted; there was a gap there that he couldn't quite bridge, couldn't quite figure out what was different between them. He was an outgoing kid, and though men in the Capitol have different ideas of masculinity, he was always just a bit too feminine for the tastes of many, learning to sing and dance at a young age and realizing as he hit puberty that he would never be as tough or boyish as the male Career tributes he loved to watch every year. As a teenager, he preferred digging through his mother's closet to cruising for girls, and idolized the stylists who, in the off-seasons, were the fashion sensations of the Capitol. Around age fifteen, Oliver began to grow his hair out a bit longer, wear his clothes a bit tighter and more androgynous, and wear makeup that was more feminine than the norm, and it was shocking to realize that he could often pass for a girl without quite meaning to, with his round face, wide eyes and full lips. He'd already started to identify himself as gay, but this revelation combined with a chance encounter at a drag show were what made him realize that he wanted to become a drag queen.
At sixteen, Oliver saw his first drag queen; she was performing onstage at a ritzy club, strutting her stuff in a sequined dress and seven-inch heels with her face beat to perfection. He was enamored; here was someone who could dress up like a woman and get paid for it. After that, he started attending shows whenever possible, talking to queens afterwards and getting up the courage to ask for help getting into drag. Finally, one of the queens took pity on him, and it was the infamous Trés Jolie that put him into drag for the first time. Oliver took on the name Oceana and, wobbling on too-tall heels and wearing the rattiest wigs imaginable, started his career as a drag queen. At first, Oceana was awkward; a seventeen year-old with wobbly knees and a hog body lip-syncing in divey venues before the pros came onstage. But practice makes perfect, and she soon found her own niche as a punk-rock queen with big hair, ripped tights and tight corsets. She was charming and trashy and most importantly, the bitch could sing and dance like nobody's business. By the time Oliver was old enough to drink, he was selling out clubs as Oceana along some of the Capitol's finest queens.
But while Cassia and Belsasar were happy for their little boy, they also wanted more for him, and encouraged him to broaden his horizons. So he learned to sew; he made his own drag costumes, and did custom tailoring alterations here and there before a chance opening led to a new job as an assistant stylist for the District 9. This opened his eyes to how many opportunities he didn't want to miss out on. Being a Stylist meant that he met new people, attended the best parties, cozied up to the Capitol's upper echelon both as himself and as Oceana, and garnered more attention to further his drag career. And after three years, his district's lead stylist made a bad publicity move and was done away with, and even though Oliver was shocked and scared, he reluctantly took up the mantle, finding himself taking ever more care now with what he said. Having Jolie around helped; if the both of them were a little mouthy, it wasn't as bad--or so Oliver thought.
Presentation: Outwardly, Oceana strives to be the baddest bitch on the block. Feelings are too messy; she doesn't bother with them, because vulnerability only leads to getting hurt, and she's not about that life, no gawd. She's brash and outspoken, but also very charming, because she knows that you catch more flies with honey than with a shitty attitude.
On the other hand, she's more than aware of how vulnerable being a gay man in a dress makes her, so part of her feels the need to overcompensate for that by being useful to other people. Through her job as a stylist, through her performances that entertain her fellow Capitolites, and through her ability to socialize like no other, Oceana makes sure that she's seen as a productive member of society, out of a fear that she might otherwise be ostracized. Oliver is ever the charmer in and out of drag, managing to be so besides a tendency to be crude and a bit brash. His mouthiness is tongue-in-cheek; he knows all too well that stylists are easily replaced, and that a word in the wrong eat could mean his life, so he keeps things light-hearted for the most part, but it's easy for his temper or his cockiness to get the better of him and for him to say the wrong thing. Oliver is also incredibly prone to dramatics, employing copious curse words to get his point across when he's upset or feels slighted in some way.
Oliver and Oceana are both gigantic flirts, and though he's very, very gay and leans toward beefcake types, he'll also flirt with women in a friendly way. He's a giver, and confidence is important to him, so it's a way of giving others a bit of confidence, too. That and, well, he's jealous of anyone who doesn't need fake boobs and hips.
Motivations: Inwardly, Oliver is far more vulnerable than he otherwise lets on. His childhood as an insecure little gay kid who stuck out like a sore thumb means that he masks his insecurity with plenty of outward confidence, and a killer wig. So while he may not appear to give a fuck what anyone thinks, he spends a lot of time worrying that he'll be ostracized for being something of a freak show compared to most citizens. Before becoming a stylist, Oliver didn't give a single fuck about the moral implications of the Hunger Games; he didn't really need to think about it; it didn't affect his life aside from being fun and exciting to watch. But after working with tributes in close proximity, he began to change his tune, realizing that these kids--and now adults--being thrown into the arena were actual people. He's not so stupid that he doesn't swallow his qualms, but he also has a problem with letting his mouth run a little too loose. He's silly, and being young and hot-blooded means that he feels invincible to something as stupid as being overheard. He also uses his drag persona as an excuse; if Oceana is overheard mouthing off, it's the character's views, not his (if anyone asks).
Oliver can be pretty selfish, finding it difficult to think about others in favor of covering his own ass, but he has his moments of generosity--mostly emotional. He sees potential in other people very easily, and usually finds himself helping them discover their own potential, even if it's just turning a tribute from drab to fab before they're sent to their death. If he can make someone feel a little better about themselves, he feels a little less terrible for taking part in all this. It's probably bad to get attached to his tributes the way he does, but he does it anyway, because, well, fuck it. They're people, too.
Setting: Oceana is a Capitol OC, so N/A I think?
SAMPLES
First Person Thread:[Well, this is awkward.
Oliver hates being put on the spot; ask him to prepare a toast for a party? That's cool. He can roll with that. But with no time to prepare, words tend to tumble out that he doesn't quite intend to, and that can be dangerous. So when the feed goes to expectant silence, he has to scramble for something witty to say.]
Uh, yeah. I mean, I think it's pretty cool, or whatever. Endless Games means more fun for us. [Okay, so it's a rocky start, but finally the ball is rolling. He can fake it from here, because he's got an idea, and all he needs to do is throw in his own signature dramatics to make it believable.]
More parties, right? More bomb-ass broadcasts, more interviews and stuff. And, hey. more work for me to do. They're gonna keep my ass locked up in a sewing room day and in day out, but this could be my big break, right? [He laughs, sounding more confident by the second.]
Yeah. On second though, fuck all y'all. I'm gonna be making bank, so fuck yeah, this is a great idea. I'll see your sorry asses on television.
[Oh, hell yeah. He nailed it.
He needs a drink.]
Prose:
"Okay, okay, geez--"
Oceana stumbles into the room on too-tall heels, feeling exceptionally vulnerable thanks to her outfit choice for the day: a sequined aqua bustier and matching hot-pants with a sheer skirt falling all the way to the floor. Not exactly workout clothes. But that's not even the worst of it; she knows exactly why she's here. She's been far too liberal with her words, and not nearly cautious enough, and now they're going to send her pansy ass off to the arena to fight it out, and die. And whether or not they decide to bring her back is probably down to what she does right now. He looks up from the middle of the floor, at the stony faces of the Gamemakers.
"Uh, hey. So I guess we all know why I'm here. Awkward, right? But look, all that shit I said, about the Capitol and the Games and President Snow being a total closet flamer, that was all Oceana. You know? It was just a persona. Oceana's a facade, she's not real, she's not really Oliver." She draws a deep, shuddering breath, feeling nauseous all of a sudden.
"So, okay, I can't fight to save my life. But what I can do is make Tributes look like fucking rock stars. So let's not do this, alright? Let me go back and I swear to Snow's hairy ballsack I'll shut up and do my job. Pinkie promise."
Another shaky breath. Will it be enough to convince them?
What is your character scored: 2. Enough said.
Additional information:
Hunger Games AU and OC: What district is your character from? How do they feel about home?
Oliver is a Capitolite, born and bred. He grew up loving everything about his home, not sparing a thought to the outside, and even now when he's beginning to have his doubts, he still loves it and takes full advantage of the parties, luxury, and wealth that he's entitled to as a citizen.
Name: Jo
Other characters: Anna of Arendelle
IN CHARACTER
Name: Oliver Gunn / Oceana
Fandom: Hunger Games OC
Canon point/AU: Current game timeline
Journal:
fuckingcoolPB: Adore Delano / Danny Noriega
History: Oliver was born and raised in the Capitol, never wanting for anything, in blissful ignorance of the suffering beyond the walls of his city. His parents, Cassia and Belsasar, weren't exactly the most attentive parents: they'd often drag him along to parties and then leave him to his own devices. This meant that Oliver had to find ways to entertain himself, and though he wasn't quite an outcast, he usually found that his interactions with other Capitolite children were stilted; there was a gap there that he couldn't quite bridge, couldn't quite figure out what was different between them. He was an outgoing kid, and though men in the Capitol have different ideas of masculinity, he was always just a bit too feminine for the tastes of many, learning to sing and dance at a young age and realizing as he hit puberty that he would never be as tough or boyish as the male Career tributes he loved to watch every year. As a teenager, he preferred digging through his mother's closet to cruising for girls, and idolized the stylists who, in the off-seasons, were the fashion sensations of the Capitol. Around age fifteen, Oliver began to grow his hair out a bit longer, wear his clothes a bit tighter and more androgynous, and wear makeup that was more feminine than the norm, and it was shocking to realize that he could often pass for a girl without quite meaning to, with his round face, wide eyes and full lips. He'd already started to identify himself as gay, but this revelation combined with a chance encounter at a drag show were what made him realize that he wanted to become a drag queen.
At sixteen, Oliver saw his first drag queen; she was performing onstage at a ritzy club, strutting her stuff in a sequined dress and seven-inch heels with her face beat to perfection. He was enamored; here was someone who could dress up like a woman and get paid for it. After that, he started attending shows whenever possible, talking to queens afterwards and getting up the courage to ask for help getting into drag. Finally, one of the queens took pity on him, and it was the infamous Trés Jolie that put him into drag for the first time. Oliver took on the name Oceana and, wobbling on too-tall heels and wearing the rattiest wigs imaginable, started his career as a drag queen. At first, Oceana was awkward; a seventeen year-old with wobbly knees and a hog body lip-syncing in divey venues before the pros came onstage. But practice makes perfect, and she soon found her own niche as a punk-rock queen with big hair, ripped tights and tight corsets. She was charming and trashy and most importantly, the bitch could sing and dance like nobody's business. By the time Oliver was old enough to drink, he was selling out clubs as Oceana along some of the Capitol's finest queens.
But while Cassia and Belsasar were happy for their little boy, they also wanted more for him, and encouraged him to broaden his horizons. So he learned to sew; he made his own drag costumes, and did custom tailoring alterations here and there before a chance opening led to a new job as an assistant stylist for the District 9. This opened his eyes to how many opportunities he didn't want to miss out on. Being a Stylist meant that he met new people, attended the best parties, cozied up to the Capitol's upper echelon both as himself and as Oceana, and garnered more attention to further his drag career. And after three years, his district's lead stylist made a bad publicity move and was done away with, and even though Oliver was shocked and scared, he reluctantly took up the mantle, finding himself taking ever more care now with what he said. Having Jolie around helped; if the both of them were a little mouthy, it wasn't as bad--or so Oliver thought.
Presentation: Outwardly, Oceana strives to be the baddest bitch on the block. Feelings are too messy; she doesn't bother with them, because vulnerability only leads to getting hurt, and she's not about that life, no gawd. She's brash and outspoken, but also very charming, because she knows that you catch more flies with honey than with a shitty attitude.
On the other hand, she's more than aware of how vulnerable being a gay man in a dress makes her, so part of her feels the need to overcompensate for that by being useful to other people. Through her job as a stylist, through her performances that entertain her fellow Capitolites, and through her ability to socialize like no other, Oceana makes sure that she's seen as a productive member of society, out of a fear that she might otherwise be ostracized. Oliver is ever the charmer in and out of drag, managing to be so besides a tendency to be crude and a bit brash. His mouthiness is tongue-in-cheek; he knows all too well that stylists are easily replaced, and that a word in the wrong eat could mean his life, so he keeps things light-hearted for the most part, but it's easy for his temper or his cockiness to get the better of him and for him to say the wrong thing. Oliver is also incredibly prone to dramatics, employing copious curse words to get his point across when he's upset or feels slighted in some way.
Oliver and Oceana are both gigantic flirts, and though he's very, very gay and leans toward beefcake types, he'll also flirt with women in a friendly way. He's a giver, and confidence is important to him, so it's a way of giving others a bit of confidence, too. That and, well, he's jealous of anyone who doesn't need fake boobs and hips.
Motivations: Inwardly, Oliver is far more vulnerable than he otherwise lets on. His childhood as an insecure little gay kid who stuck out like a sore thumb means that he masks his insecurity with plenty of outward confidence, and a killer wig. So while he may not appear to give a fuck what anyone thinks, he spends a lot of time worrying that he'll be ostracized for being something of a freak show compared to most citizens. Before becoming a stylist, Oliver didn't give a single fuck about the moral implications of the Hunger Games; he didn't really need to think about it; it didn't affect his life aside from being fun and exciting to watch. But after working with tributes in close proximity, he began to change his tune, realizing that these kids--and now adults--being thrown into the arena were actual people. He's not so stupid that he doesn't swallow his qualms, but he also has a problem with letting his mouth run a little too loose. He's silly, and being young and hot-blooded means that he feels invincible to something as stupid as being overheard. He also uses his drag persona as an excuse; if Oceana is overheard mouthing off, it's the character's views, not his (if anyone asks).
Oliver can be pretty selfish, finding it difficult to think about others in favor of covering his own ass, but he has his moments of generosity--mostly emotional. He sees potential in other people very easily, and usually finds himself helping them discover their own potential, even if it's just turning a tribute from drab to fab before they're sent to their death. If he can make someone feel a little better about themselves, he feels a little less terrible for taking part in all this. It's probably bad to get attached to his tributes the way he does, but he does it anyway, because, well, fuck it. They're people, too.
Setting: Oceana is a Capitol OC, so N/A I think?
SAMPLES
First Person Thread:[Well, this is awkward.
Oliver hates being put on the spot; ask him to prepare a toast for a party? That's cool. He can roll with that. But with no time to prepare, words tend to tumble out that he doesn't quite intend to, and that can be dangerous. So when the feed goes to expectant silence, he has to scramble for something witty to say.]
Uh, yeah. I mean, I think it's pretty cool, or whatever. Endless Games means more fun for us. [Okay, so it's a rocky start, but finally the ball is rolling. He can fake it from here, because he's got an idea, and all he needs to do is throw in his own signature dramatics to make it believable.]
More parties, right? More bomb-ass broadcasts, more interviews and stuff. And, hey. more work for me to do. They're gonna keep my ass locked up in a sewing room day and in day out, but this could be my big break, right? [He laughs, sounding more confident by the second.]
Yeah. On second though, fuck all y'all. I'm gonna be making bank, so fuck yeah, this is a great idea. I'll see your sorry asses on television.
[Oh, hell yeah. He nailed it.
He needs a drink.]
Prose:
"Okay, okay, geez--"
Oceana stumbles into the room on too-tall heels, feeling exceptionally vulnerable thanks to her outfit choice for the day: a sequined aqua bustier and matching hot-pants with a sheer skirt falling all the way to the floor. Not exactly workout clothes. But that's not even the worst of it; she knows exactly why she's here. She's been far too liberal with her words, and not nearly cautious enough, and now they're going to send her pansy ass off to the arena to fight it out, and die. And whether or not they decide to bring her back is probably down to what she does right now. He looks up from the middle of the floor, at the stony faces of the Gamemakers.
"Uh, hey. So I guess we all know why I'm here. Awkward, right? But look, all that shit I said, about the Capitol and the Games and President Snow being a total closet flamer, that was all Oceana. You know? It was just a persona. Oceana's a facade, she's not real, she's not really Oliver." She draws a deep, shuddering breath, feeling nauseous all of a sudden.
"So, okay, I can't fight to save my life. But what I can do is make Tributes look like fucking rock stars. So let's not do this, alright? Let me go back and I swear to Snow's hairy ballsack I'll shut up and do my job. Pinkie promise."
Another shaky breath. Will it be enough to convince them?
What is your character scored: 2. Enough said.
Additional information:
Hunger Games AU and OC: What district is your character from? How do they feel about home?
Oliver is a Capitolite, born and bred. He grew up loving everything about his home, not sparing a thought to the outside, and even now when he's beginning to have his doubts, he still loves it and takes full advantage of the parties, luxury, and wealth that he's entitled to as a citizen.