Ian Rockefeller

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Personal Information

• Name: Ian Alexander Rockefeller
  
• Gender: Male
  
• Age: 24
  
  • Date of Birth: May 18, 1990
    
  • Place of Birth: Los Angeles, CA
    
  
  
• Ethnicity: Caucasian
  
• Height: 6’1”
  
• Weight: 150
  
• Eye Color: Dark blue
  
• Hair Color: Naturally black, bangs bleached
  

Physical Appearance
Standing at 6 feet, 1 inch, Ian is quite average and of average, if lean, build, which is nearly always covered completely by a mix of black and white clothing. Equally comfortable in street clothes or a suit, Ian will alternate between sharp suits and leather jackets based on his mood and agenda for the day. No matter what clothes he wears, he’s always in his customary dark shades, even indoors, and he never takes out his snakebites and other piercings regardless of how formal a meeting he has. Beneath his shades, he has dark sapphire eyes, though few ever actually see them except perhaps people who are very close to him. His hair is shaggy, relatively short, and naturally black, though he’s dyed his bangs a gray-white to match his taste and love for black and white. If only the world could have such perfect contrast.

Personality
Few people who meet Ian would label him as outgoing, even though he tends to prefer being around people to being alone. He gives off an anti-social aura by rarely speaking and often smoking while looking otherwise completely bored, but he is very conscious of those around them and their feelings. Despite his sometimes seemingly cold demeanor, Ian understands people at a fundamental level and is surprisingly good at offering advice and listening to troubles. His words may sometimes come across as callous and inconsiderate, but he often means well beneath that and tries to only offer advice that rings true. Because of this, he is sometimes said to be an extraordinary though unconventional counselor.

Ian is also often seen with a cigarette hanging from his lips. He claims that he only smokes when he’s bored, but he tends to be bored most of the time. The smell gets to him from time to time but he’s more addicted than he thinks because he finds himself always going back to the cigarettes before much time has passed.

Unlike some, and perhaps unlike his appearance would suggest, Ian has very concise control over his own body and his own emotions. Getting angry is something he will almost never do and if he does get upset, he usually turns his negative emotions inward or onto inanimate objects. Patience is a virtue that Ian surprisingly possesses a wealth of.

Despite looking or even sometimes acting stuck up, Ian cares little for status or background and he will easily and readily befriend any who try to get past his chilly exterior. In his life, he doesn’t have too terribly many people who are close to him, but he is loyal to the end to those who are. Leading isn’t something he prefers to do and he would generally only take the reins in a situation where there are absolutely no other options.

In general, Ian’s attitude can be summed up with easy-going and distant yet thoughtful.

As a side note, Ian is pansexual and liberal about his body, but if he were to enter a relationship, would be extremely faithful.

History
Having been born in Los Angeles, Ian is used to always being surrounded by the hustle and bustle of the city. At times, he’s thought of traveling and even moving elsewhere, but he’s never ended up going far. For someone like him, Los Angeles has everything, most importantly his friends, and they’d held him in place and kept him grounded.

Since his birth, Ian has lived with his father, his mother having died during childbirth due to an oversight by the nurses which resulted in overmedicating her. Ever since then, he’s never held much love for hospitals, preferring to tough out any injuries he sustains so long as they aren’t life threatening. Thankfully, his father made plenty of money to more than support them both, giving Ian a comfortable, if lonely life, as he was gone all the time working as an important lawyer in some high profile cases.

Due to the lack of supervision, Ian started going out later and later, until he was in high school and sometimes wouldn’t come home at all during the night. His father either never noticed or intentionally ignored it, letting Ian do as he pleased with zero restrictions. Because of this, Ian’s high school days were dark and he ended up falling in with a crowd that stayed up way too late nearly every night, drinking and doing drugs.

It was during these sessions that Ian had some of his first tastes as a counselor and found that people in their drugged states would open up to him easily, seeking assistance and advice, and Ian got better and better at it until he almost exclusively spent each night seeing strings of people and just talking to them, ignoring the partying that was going on around him.

He also took up smoking during this time and while he says he just does it because there’s nothing else to do, there’s no doubt that he’s hopelessly addicted himself. At least it isn’t anything worse than that.

Only near the end of his high school years did Ian’s father start to take notice of what his son was doing, and only once he realized that Ian’s grades were too abysmal for him to get into a good college like his father wanted. The first night that Ian’s father had looked over years of Ian’s report cards to find a huge mess of C’s and D’s, he beat Ian for the very first and very last time, dragging out everything that Ian had thought his father was overlooking at that past few years and using his words as daggers to stab all of Ian’s mistakes back into him.

Utterly shocked, Ian had closed himself off more to his father and started charging those who could afford to pay for his services as a counselor while still keeping himself available for those who couldn’t afford it. This was all done in back alleys and in places where few respectable people would be seen, so his lack of a degree didn’t bite him and he gained more and more business by word of mouth alone. Once he graduated from high school, he left a fat stack of cash on the kitchen table and left, hoping his father would take that as a sign that he would be fine, even without a college degree backing him up.

From there, Ian stayed in a variety of apartments filled to the brim with two to three times their capacity, ignoring his father’s offers to set him up with his own place, help with rent, whatever he needed. Ian forgave his father for his actions, but he wanted to stay close to the people he devoted himself to helping and understanding even if he could afford bigger and better things for himself.

Like this he stayed for several years and he even got some news coverage for his ‘remarkable’ services, although the press was disappointed to find him tight-lipped on what his life and therapy sessions were like.

At the age of twenty-two, Ian knew he couldn’t live in the slums any longer and he used some of his rather considerable savings to get himself set up in a moderately nice apartment and buy some suits for himself. Some of those he’d helped in the past had gotten their footholds in proper society but still wanted to see him and so he set up a proper business for more formal meetings and began seeing more important people while still diving into the slums at night.

His father, lacking any dependents, lovers, friends, or really anyone, had eventually decided to call it quits on Los Angeles, moving to Fresno to try to start a new life with a much smaller firm that would require significantly less time. He’d been begging Ian to come and visit for a while now, but his son had so far been too busy.

Example Post
The low vibrations of bass pumped way too loud, vibrating everything, including the floor, the lights, the band posters slathered liberally over the walls, and even Ian Rockefeller’s own body, emanating up through his feet and into the very core of his being, making him feel as though his heart was beating in time. The feeling must have been tenfold for the people surrounding him who were plastered out of their minds, gyrating against one another as the music blared throughout the rundown warehouse-turned-club, filling every inch of the dim space with noise and life.

Against one of the over-sized posters was where Ian leaned, cigarette hanging carelessly from his lips as he breathed in and out the acrid scent of burning nicotine, hands shoved deep in the pockets of the well-trimmed black and white suit he wore, standing out starkly against people in their torn jeans and copious amounts of body glitter. Silently, Ian sucked on his cigarette and watched those bodies grinding together as glow sticks bounced and ecstasy traded hands. Yeah, the night was still young but he could already imagine the line he’d be seeing later. Breathing deeply, Ian pushed off from the wall and headed down along the side of the crowd, nice shoes sticking to the floor that was covered with who knew what with each step.

At the back of the warehouse, Ian hung a tight left, making his way down a deserted hallway as a light trail of smoke curled over his shoulder from the cigarette he continued to puff lazily. Eventually, he came upon a dingy room that was complete with a desk. At one point, the foreman of the warehouse must have called this his office. These days, it functioned as well as Ian’s office and he kicked some dusty old beer bottles out of his way and took a seat at the old chair which had half-disintegrated cushion dust leaking from a slash along the side. Leaning back in the creaking chair, Ian propped his legs upon the desk, crunching some errant shards of glass beneath his fine shoes as he sucked on his cigarette and waited.

As expected, it wasn't long at all until a girl slipped into his makeshift ‘office’. She was a young thing, absolutely tiny, and so bony that Ian wasn’t sure if it was just her skeleton that he was seeing under her emaciated frame or her organs as well. To top it all off, her face was dirty and her belly shirt and miniskirt were no doubt meant to attract attention to the body she hardly had.

Snuffing out his cigarette on the edge of the desk, Ian leaned back and folded his arms over his chest, saying nothing but gazing at her and silently inviting her into the room. Nervously, she glanced around and even behind her shoulder, but she slowly crept into the room, letting the door swing shut behind her.

“U-um,” she started, mousy, afraid, someone he’d never seen before. She must have been watching him out on the floor to see when he’d move back to his ‘meeting space’ to come here so quickly. “My name is Mika.” She still hovered near the door and didn’t offer a hand to shake, but that was absolutely fine with Ian.

“Ian Rockefeller,” he greeted, making no moves of his own.

Slowly, she seemed to calm down a little and she moved more into the room, eventually taking a seat in one of the folding chairs on the opposite side of Ian’s desk. “I heard from Kyle – Kyle Langbert – that you…”

He nodded, just waiting for now, waiting and getting a feel for her.

At first, she was quiet, waiting for some kind of prompt, some kind of pseudo-psychiatric bullshit, but when none of that came, she slowly began speaking, staring down at her hands as she described her life, how she felt backed into a corner, how she struggled to pay the debts she had in addition to taking care of herself, how she worried constantly, but she was so unhealthy that she hadn’t gotten her period now in months, but she couldn’t be pregnant, right?

Quietly, Ian listened to all of it, never once interrupting her as she let out the torrent of fears and worries that she had weighing her down, probably for years. Things were hard, nigh impossible, in her position, but she wasn’t the first difficult case Ian had ever seen and once she was finally done speaking, shivering and holding herself with arms wrapped around her barely clad shoulders, that was when Ian spoke, first describing the resources available to her, including a free sexual health clinic and a soup kitchen. Neither place was very great, but with the status of her body, she had to start small. He told her to start eating, whatever her pride said about using a soup kitchen, but otherwise didn't comment too harshly upon her situation. Starting small was all people pushed to nearly the edge could do. From there, they could begin taking bigger steps.

From there, he entered into some casual small talk with her, easing her worries with side matters until she was smiling again. A good mood could do wonders even if it didn't directly solve any problems on it's own. Finally, he told her to meet him again in one to two weeks, although she could certainly come sooner if she ever wanted to talk. Ian definitely wouldn't mind getting to know her better.

Holding out his pack of cigarettes out to her, he offered her one and when she declined, he brought the pack back to his lips, grabbing one of the butts between his teeth and pulling it out of the wrapping. Leaning back, he lit it as she disappeared from the room, wishing the best for her.

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• Player Name: Farina
  
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