HOME | DD
Swissis — Yves app
Published: 2017-03-05 04:18:31 +0000 UTC; Views: 1081; Favourites: 15; Downloads: 1
Redirect to original
Description
Profile
Basic Info:
Name: Landreneau, Yves
Age: 22
Year: Second
Nationality: American [Creole]
Division: Navy
Subdivision: Support
Custom Item: Vapor Trace Detector, Bees
VTD: The "Handheld vacuum full of bees" according to Yves. Although he's not entirely wrong, the device is a little more sophisticated than he makes it sound. It uses between three and fifteen bees strapped into tiny harnesses inside to detect traces of explosives/narcotics, depending on the bees' training. A camera on the inside displays the bees' movements on the screen mounted at the top of the VTD, and on Yves' left gauntlet. It can also display the bees' activity in a chart format. When the bees stick out their tongues, the vapour they were trained to detect is present.
Bees: Honeybees trained by Yves to detect a range of smells most fitting to the mission. They go inside the VTD.
Stats:
Height: 5'9” ; 175.4 cm
Weight: 161 lbs ; 73 kg
Abilities | Talents:
- Bee keeping/training: His specialty. He's been taking care of bees since he was very young, and learned how to train them from his father, who did research in the field at Tulane. Nowadays he's an adept bee trainer in his own right, and works with them for the SD.
- Music: Yves wanted to be a jazz musician for a couple years in his youth, but even after giving up that dream continued to play for fun. And because he needed to fill a class slot in highschool. He can play the double bass and saxophone, and knows his way around the piano. He's also not too bad at singing.
- Mechanical Repairs: He's self taught and prefers to learn as he goes, so it's a bit of a gamble, but one way or another he can usually figure out how to make things work. He's best with cars and motorbikes, although he's done a bit of work on boats in the past.
- Louisiana French: Growing up in a Creole family, they spoke Louisiana French just as often as English. It's not exactly widely spoken out of Louisiana so he hasn't found much use for it, but it's there.
Hobbies:- Apiculture: The bees are his friends, and he spends the majority of his free time tending the hives and testing/training the ones selected for missions.
- Jazz: His childhood dream was to become a jazz musician, and although he doesn't plan on ever doing it professionally at this stage in his life, he does like playing old jazz songs.
- Fashion: Suits and nice button downs are all well and good, but there's no fun in looking like everyone else. Yves likes the bizarre high fashion you see on runways. Ironically, he's found that the best places to get that type of stuff are extremely high end boutiques, and secondhand thriftstores. He usually shops at the latter.
- Auto repair: Learning how to repair anything and everything was a neccessity given the state of his first bike. It eventually became a hobby, and over the years a plethora of needy neighbours and family members expanded these skills to cars and eventually boats.
Background
History:
All things considered, Yves had a nice childhood. Even if his mother had trouble holding down a job with her delicate health, his father's position at Tulane permitted them a comfortable life in Carrollton. He was a bright, if somewhat unruly, student, and since a young age helped his father take care of the bee hives in their back yard. He'd always loved his father's research, even if everyone at school laughed when he told them his father trained bees. Although the bees were his favourite by far, he was interested in all the insects his father kept and studied, and his mother was hardpressed to stop them from discussing and bringing random bugs into the house on a constant basis.
Aside from the bees, his life was largely ordinary. He attended school regularly, fooled around with his friends, helped his dad with work, paid obligatory visists to eccentric aunts and uncles. He started working when he was sixteen so he could buy himself a motorcycle despite his parents' very strong safety-based objections. The ancient pile of rattling parts that he got off Craigslist at the end of the summer became his pride and joy, even if it required weekly repairs just so it wouldn't fall apart. With the aid of the internet, books, and a retired mechanic on the street corner, Yves came to understand the machine bit by bit, and before long could be found in the garages and front yards of his neighbours, attending to any and all problems their vehicles presented with.
It was around this time that his parents began fighting. Funding cuts to his father's department and his mother's worsening health were a source of constant conflict. Even as their income decreased the medical bills increased, and doctors were giving increasingly grim projections. Bit by bit, they all grew distant from each other. Yves hated seeing his mother in pain and knowing there was nothing he could do, he hated noticing the way his father looked at her, the way he never seemed to be hearing what he was saying. The year Yves graduated high school, his father left to a melittology conference in India. They saw him to the airport, made him promise to take pictures and bring back souveniers. He'd gone to many conferences before, this was the usual routine.
Two weeks later, they hadn't heard a word. No one had. Dr. Landreneau never returned. Yves chose to believe that his father had died, somewhere far away and thinking of them. He didn't want to accept his mother's theory that they had become a burden to him, and he'd simply left. There was no time to mourn though. With their only source of income gone, Yves started desperately searching for job. They sold their Carrollton house and moved to an old family property on Port Street. His mother's health continued to decline, and the medical bills continued to rise. Two, three jobs at a time, Yves gave up totally on any hopes of going to college. What time he wasn't devoting to working, he spent taking care of his gradually worsening mother. Apparently as desperate as he was, she turned to religion for hope. Coming from a family that had practiced voodoo for generations, she'd dismissed it long ago, but with death looming began investing the little money they had in consultations and rituals. This often being the same money Yves had partitioned off for food and bills, this sparked countless fights between them.
Of course, it was not long after a particularly nasty confrontation between the two of them that his mother passed away. Maybe it was the stress, maybe a conscious effort to spite him, or maybe she'd just lost the will to keep fighting. Yves still doesn't know. All he knew at that moment was that he'd been abandoned by both of his parents. The realization sent him into crisis mode. He dropped everything, took his bike, and left. No word to employers, not even stopping by his house, leaving his mother's body for the hospital to deal with.
Only when his bike ran out of gas on the outskirts of Jackson, Mississippi did he realize what an idiot he was. He'd left with nothing but his bike, his phone, and the twenty or so dollars in his pockets. As he sat on the curb contemplating what to do, he realized that he couldn't go back. He would never be able to bring himself to step foot in that house again. So, he made up his mind. If death could come so abruptly, he was going to live. Even if it would kill him, he would make damn well sure he'd enjoy what time he had left. He called one of his closest friends, told him not to ask any questions, and asked him to send him some money.
He knew he'd never pay it back, but he'd decided that no matter what he did, he would have no regrets. He was nineteen years old. He hitchhiked to Jackson, found a dealer, found a party, and started his new life. This pattern continued for nearly a year. He was likeable and charismatic, and easily made connections wherever he went. His income he made by buying drugs on the street and selling them at higher prices at the parties he found himself constantly at, and when that didn't cover his increasingly ambitious expenses, there was never a shortage of shady people with shady money just waiting to sucker someone into a loan. Of course, he never had any intention of paying them back, nor did the dealers who's goods he resold at a higher price much appreciate his presence.
Yves rarely spent more than a couple days in one town, roving up the East Coast to stay ahead of the lengthening list of people who wanted his head. And the more people you piss off, the bigger chance that at least one of them will have the sort of far reaching connections that would make running useless. Yves stumbled across one of these people. In his near permanent state of inebriation, by whatever drug was on the menu that particular day, the paranoia of being hunted grew into an all consuming terror. It got to the point where he could barely function. One night in his hotel room, in the middle of a trip gone wrong and with his paranoia at an all time high, he panicked and pulled a gun on the server he'd called himself only minutes ago.
Yves was almost relieved once he finally made sense of his surroundings and realized he was in police custody. His lifestyle had become just that--a lifestyle. He got drunk and high and went to clubs and parties not because he enjoyed it, but because that was simply what he did. He didn't know how to stop. He'd accepted that there were no other options. At least in prison he could finally get clean--only one thing troubled him. He knew for a fact someone he'd pissed off would have connections on the inside. He wasn't ready to spend the next couple years watching his back. Clever and charismatic as he was--or could be, rather--physically he wouldn't be a match for 90% of the prison population. So when he was offered the alternative of attending the Northshore Commandos, he leapt at the opportunity without hesitation.
There were no downsides as far as he could see. He would finally be able to get a higher education, get his life back in order, and maybe even do some good in the world for once. He'd always admired his grandfather, who'd served in the Navy, and had a great respect for the military. Enrolling at the Academy, he chose to follow in his father's footsteps and major in Entomology. Of course, it did not take him long to gravitate back to beekeeping. The announcement of the Special Division was as much of a shock to him as to everyone else, but after the surprise wore off, Yves realized he didn't mind as much as he first thought. There was nothing left for him out there, and he'd already gotten all his living out of the way. Shady as the whole thing is, he sees this as a chance at redemption. And an opportunity to put his bee training skills to good use.
TL;DR:
Born in New Orleans, has a pretty nice childhood, learns beekeeping from his dad. Mom and dad start fighting as she gets more and more ill, dad goes to a conferance in India and never comes back. Yves takes care of mom until she dies, he has a bit of a crisis and leaves town with nothing. Decides that he's going to live his life to the fullest before he inevitably dies, basically spends the next year partying and selling drugs/taking out shady loans to get by. Makes lots of people angry, becomes paranoid, accidentally almost shoots a hotel worker. He gets arrested, and to clean up his act enrolls in c0s where he devotes his time to training bees to identify bombs and drugs.
Personality
[+] Charismatic - Yves generally has an easy time getting along with people. He's good at making people feel like he's listening even when he's not actually, and acting like he cares. Because with few exceptions, he does. Everyone has something interesting to talk about if you look closely enough, and he thinks everyone deserves to be heard if they feel like talking.
[+] Open - Yves doesn't really hide anything. Want to know about his parents? He'll tell you. Want to know about his arrest? No problem. The past is the past, he sees no reason to be shy about it. 99% of the time the things people hide aren't actually worth hiding, in his opinion.
[+] Creative - In both the artistic and practical sense, Yves is fairly good at coming up with ideas on the fly. Maybe they aren't always the best or most sensible, but ask him for one and he'll give you five in as many minutes. This has manifested mostly in his various repair projects. He has found uses for ducttape most people would never even consider.
[=] Independent - Yves has grown to rely on himself over the years. While he doesn't mind accepting help when it's offered, he rarely seeks it out unless absolutely necessary.
[=] Carefree - Yves is very good at ignoring problems. Unless it's an immediate and unavoidable threat, he'd much rather just chill and pretend like nothing is wrong. There's no point in worrying.
[=] Thrillseeking - He loves excitement, and will go to great lengths to get an adrenaline rush. If he can't get drugs, he'll get by on what he can get. Every once in a while he will do something fantastically stupid because of this.
[-] Reckless - One of the few things left over from his 'I might die any day' phase, if Yves wants to do something, he's just going to do it. This especially applies to thrillseeking behavior and dares.
[-] Vain - In his own way, Yves cares very much about his appearances. On occasion he may look somewhat like a mess, but it's an artistic, controlled mess. If he doesn't look good, it's because he intentionally didn't want to. It's a critical distinction.
Likes x Dislikes
+ Insects
++ Bees
+ Jewelry
+ High Fashion
+ Thrift stores
+ Parties
+ Jazz music
+ Working on cars/boats
+ Drinking
+ Potentially life threatening activities
sky diving, bugie jumping, running of the bulls, etc.
-- Unnecessary drama
-- Complaining
-- Snakes
-- Physical confrontation
-- Omlettes, scrambled eggs, boiled eggs, any form of cooked egg
-- When people intentionally step on bugs
*Mosquitoes are fine to kill though
Extra
Trivia:- He claims not to believe in Voodoo, but is very superstitious. He won't walk under ladders or where black cats have crossed or any of that.
- He does actually need glasses, but he only has one pair of perscription glasses. He has many pairs of fashion glasses under which he wears contacts.
- For a while after getting arrested he totally swore off drugs and alcohol and parties, but that feeling's long gone. Put some illegal substances within his reach and he probably won't have the self control to resist.
- Although training bees is his focus, he is alsoin the midst of explosive ordnance disposal training.
- His mother had sickle cell anemia
- He's a simple man. Keep your science and hacking away from him.
- He's decent with a gun, although he would never be able to shoot someone
- Majoring in Entomology
- Voice/Faceclaim: Prince thanks Pan
Relationships
[Family]
Dr. Pierre Landreneau [Father] - Professor of Entomology at Tulane University - Deceased
Marguerite Landreneau [Mother] - Deceased
[Special Division]
Clarence Felton [Air Force Medic] - 25
He sat down next to me during lunch one day and asked if I wanted to talk about my dead parents. I had no fucking clue who he was, or how he knew about my family, or why he cared. Turns out he's also in the SD. Air Force, of course. Not gonna lie, guy kind of creeps me out.
Admin
Roleplay Media: Discord is the platform I'm most comfortable with, although I can do gdocs too. Notes are okay, but I have a really bad habit of forgetting to ever reply to them.
Roleplay Preferences: Lit's my go-to, and headcanons are always fun. Script I have nothing against, but I'm really, really bad at it.
User ToS: I'm down with rping almost anything, although I don't do shipping. If a relationship develops in the course of rp I have no objections, but that's not too common with me u v u;;
App Design Credits c) Zephyras-Lied , kenketsu , PrincessElaina
Related content
Comments: 6
dang all those zeros
go big or go home
Also I wish his vc was Jerry Seinfield
voice of the best bee ever
👍: 0 ⏩: 0
