As he watched, the guard backed off quickly, and instead, it was Arthur who turned to him. Alfred flinched at the harsh question and fought with his instinct to draw himself up, and made a dissatisfied noise before slouching a bit into the darkness. Though he was loathe to admit it, the moody blond looked way more intimidating than the actual guard did, and as he rounded on him, Alfred felt a bit worried for a confrontation. This was one of the first months at the camp for Alfred, and he didn't want to risk a trip to the cooler, especially with an authority figure- no matter how harmless seeming- standing right there.
He turned from the door slightly and kicked at the floor, halfheartedly listening to their continuing conversation. If he didn't know any better, he would have thought they were bartering. But with tea bags? Subconciously, he wrinkled his nose a bit. Back when he would save up from his labour for weeks, his favourite beverage was coffee and however much sugar he could afford.
Search found 5 matches for Alfred F. Jones
Bad Dreams [open] - Thu Dec 15, 2011 10:28 pm
Bad Dreams [open] - Thu Dec 15, 2011 12:31 pm
His eyes snapped to the blonde and winced at his tone, quickly glancing over to see a guard he'd perhaps noticed around the camp before. He seemed really young, a bit spacey too, and Alfred often wondered how he came to be so far into Germany when he was obviously not a native.
But at the other prisoner's words, a fierce blush coloured his cheeks, and he did his best to glare. This blonde couldn't have been that much older than him, maybe a year or two at best in his opinion. With both of their eyes fixed on him now, Alfred started regretting actually standing up- he could have spied just as well in bed...- and as well as a bit conscious of his sleep attire, or lack thereof. But now that he knew the mystery person was a guard, it confused him even more; why would they be talking to each other?
He took a breath and said, "I-I'm not a kid! I just have a baby face- wait, I mean I just look young ok? You can't be much older than me anyways." He coughed a bit into his fist and continued, "I was just curious, and I was worried when heard something about shooting and enemy..." Here, his tone turned accusatory, and glanced at the guard suspiciously. "Besides, why are you talking to his guy?"
Hello everyone! - Wed Dec 14, 2011 11:34 pm
I nearly forgot to do this, but hello! I'm 16, living in the midwest part of the United States, and in high school (the winter break is almost upon us!). I've been in this fandom for more than a year now, but it's nice to be in a roleplay that's more serious in general, and I look forward to RPing with everyone here!
Bad Dreams [open] - Wed Dec 14, 2011 11:12 pm
(( I hope it's alright for me to jump in X| haha you could always just ignore Al ))
Rolling away from a sudden brightness, Alfred grunted softly and shifted further into his pillow; it couldn't be near morning yet... Letting himself relax, his half-focused mind started drifting off again, but not before snatches of conversation was heard. Wishing they would just either shut up or go away, but not nearly awake enough to do something about it, he set to ignoring the voices resolutely.
Suddenly though, he realised the words had an odd, familiar quality, almost as if he was back home. Blinking some of the sleep from his eyes, he shifted heavily, and realized they were speaking in english. Finally turning to face what he now saw was the opened door, Alfred could just make out a mop of blonde in the moonlight, belonging to someone he vaguely remembered seeing in this block. The other person was hidden by the doorway though.
'Must be a friend from another part of the camp,' he thought, 'maybe a lover even...'
But before he could speculate further, the tail end of the words from the mystery person registered in his brain. Jerking slightly, Alfred tensed, and slowly rose from his bunk. Thankfully, he had a bottom one, but he still nearly woke the person above him when he hit his head on the underside of the bed. He made a small pained sound and moved towards the center of the room. Debating whether or not to sneak or not, he decided against it- if the person DIDN'T want to shoot them, then that must translate to safe- and awkwardly shuffled slightly to make his presence known.
Alfred F. Jones - Wed Dec 14, 2011 2:01 am
Name: Alfred F. Jones
Age: 19
Nationality: American
Prisoner/Guard: Prisoner
The time they've been in the camp: a couple months
Appearance:
A sunny boy, Alfred is gold and tan and bright all over. Years down in the Tennessee farm means his blonde hair has a healthy sheen and arms are as toned as they come. From days of hard labour, his hands are large and calloused, but warm. Back in the old town, he was quite the charmer, with his baby face and bright blue eyes, but of course, he's still barely a man, and for all his physical fitness, he hardly has the fuzz to match.
Standing at an average height of 5 foot 9, he has a pair of slightly unnecessary corrective lenses, and before the service, some pretty long hair with a cowlick on the hairline that just wouldn't go away. Suffice to say, that was taken care of on the first day there. Being in the service should have also taken care of his messiness too, but it's not uncommon to see his bed unintentionally haphazardly made, or even himself haphazardly dressed. Common attire was a pair of ragged jeans and a button up. Thankfully there's ample opportunity in the camp during summer to just forego a shirt. His vision is really good enough to pass the test for piloting, but he bought a pair of glasses anyways, and mainly has them just as a precaution.
Personality:
A generally cheerful person, he likes to think himself optimistic, not naive. When circumstances don't swing his way, he tries to push on, but inside, he's always busy planning for ways to improve the situation. When the market crash happened while he was just 6, it matured him real fast, and he's learned to keep a strong face for his two younger brothers. He could be calf deep in cow manure, and still have an infectious smile on his face, never failing to elicit a chuckle and lighten the mood. Before the depression, he was a bit spoiled, and developed something of a sweet tooth, but with the family's finances the way it is, he's become frugal in his choices. With both parents constantly out trying to make ends meet, Alfred grew to be self reliant and relatively independent. He leaves the cooking to his older brother though.
In the service, he was known equally for both his bravery and foolishness. His strong sense of justice led to some testy situations, but if he had stayed a bit longer, perhaps he could have really been something great. In a ways, his life in Tennessee really prepared him well for the military; from a young age, he learned respect for the guns in deer season, and for the same reason, he can have a cautious air when need be. The rest of the time though, he’s loud and brash, and gets on people’s nerves, though his naturally likeable aura saves him from harm. He’s also got no complaints for the harsh military life; waking up at the crack of dawn to milk the cows happens to translate nicely to waking with the sun for roll call.
History:
Born into a good farming family down deep in the Tennessee valley in the midst of the roaring twenties, his childhood stories were made of the glorious tales of his father in world war one. He was the second of four, and took care of his brothers well. He went to the catholic school like everyone else, and dreamt of battles. Life was good, but they were soon hit hard by the depression, and he let his grades drop to help out at the farm. Thankfully, his father never did turn to drink like so many of their friends, and through the dark years before the war, the family managed to stay together. Recently though, Roosevelt and his administration have been doing their jobs, and when WWII broke out, the oldest was drafted near the start, and though it took away some help, the checks sent home were more than enough. His dad just missed the age limit, and sulked a bit because of it. As soon as Alfred turned 17 his parents tearfully - but proudly- sent him off to enlist in the USAAF.
They refused to train him for a pilot at just 17, so he became an aircraft mechanic. Lucky for him, the very next year America joined the allies. Now severely short of personnel, they sent him in the first shipment to Great Britain on January 26 of 1942, and was slated to receive training with the RAF. He transferred from the landing site in Northern Ireland to a more southern base, closer to the action. Not so lucky for him, on a minor, inadvertent skirmish early in the year, Alfred was captured in occupied France, and transported to the small camp soon after. He's just settling in, but finds that as far as POW camps go, this one wasn't so bad; the rural setting and job opportunities fit his experiences, and helped stave off the boredom- with so little guards and even prisoners, his flamboyant personality was a bit suppressed. The food was good enough- certainly better than in some of his memories as a teenager- and the housing adequate. Perhaps the one thing he doesn’t want to think about too much is the cooler. Maybe it was the solitude or silence that got to him, since he never really had a quiet life, but he hopes there won’t be a chance to go down there.
RP Sample: (I hope it's alright that it's unrelated to this AU?)
First day and he was already late; rushing through the motions, he barely had the uniform on before running out the door. Thankfully, the post wasn't too far, and they just needed to be there at attendance time. He waved hello's to friends he passed- getting a variety of responses- and managed to sign in on time, just outside the gates. Reaching the entrance, Alfred jogged lightly up to the restaurant off to the side; he hadn't had breakfast that morning, and during the job orientation he'd vaguely heard about something like a self-serve center in it. Poking his head in the door of the place, he looked around the slightly darkened registry area. Walking in tentatively, he stood awkwardly while deciding whether to shout out or not. Suddenly, he realized there was the sound of a gurgling coffee machine and almost breathed out in relief. He walked towards the room and looked in to see a pale-haired young man perhaps around the same age as himself preparing toast. Alfred grinned and stepped into the room.
"Hey there! My name's Alfred, how're you doin'?"
Name: Just use some variation of my character's name and I'll respond! :)
Timezone/Country: GMT-5/United States of America
Age: 16
A little about yourself: I like RPing America, but I don't do it often, and slightly awkwardly, I also RP Germany. As far as experience goes... I guess I'm intermediate? I do hope I can improve on this and writing in general. But beyond that, I'm in high school now, and I enjoy drawing.
Anything Else?: red!
