limeswithorange @ 2007-12-06T22:24:00

2007-12-06T22:26:45Z

Name; Svitrigaila Žadvilas Juozapavicius
Nicknames; Burton Jones, his stage name, and the name he most commonly goes by off stage as well. He's also known as Svitty to Liz, Svit to Midge, his parents, and most of his old friends back east, and Strangler to Inka.
Age; 23
Birthday; June 19, 1962
Alumna; Ravenclaw, and he made sure that hat put his brother in there with him too.
Quidditch; Is that code for "doing drugs"? No? Then no.
Bloodline; Muggleborn.
Pets; Lemmy the filth monster, Midge the brother, and Evans, Liz's dog.
Occupation; Keyboardist, vocalist and former bassist for Parasiiti. He gets shuffled around a lot. He also has his hands in just about everything -- producing, activism, trying not to die. One of these days, he wants to write his autobiography, but he's got to get Ani to fall asleep, Bo to stop trying to dismantle all his toys, and Zyg fed first and foremost.
Affiliation; Member of the Order of the Phoenix for about a year now.

Mother; Elanor Juozapavicienė, aka Poe, because her name comes from an Edgar Allan Poe work.
Relationship; He loves his mum, and she could never say or think a bad thing about any of her kids.
Father; "Doc" Juozapavicius.
Relationship; Burton and his dad are close, and Burton still refers to him as Daddy, or Tevelio. He knows his father will never stop loving him, and, though he may get frustrated with him from time to time, as long as Burton isn't trying to destroy himself and those around him, he won't be disappointed in him, either. He's most likely one of the few people who actually understands Burton, too.
Other family; His older half-sister, Natalia Juozapaviciūtė, his younger (by four minutes) twin brother, Midge, and his three children, Baltramiejus (or Boba), his three-year-old son, Ąžuolas (or Ani), his two-year-old son, and Zygimantas, his six-month-old son.
Personal History; Svitrigaila Juozapavicius was born June 19, 1962, to a man they called Doc and a woman they called Poe, in Antakalnis, Vilnius, Lithuanian SSR. He was preceded by Natalia, who was technically his half-sister, and followed immediately by his twin brother, Valentinavyczia. When he and Val tumbled into the world, tiny and red-faced and screaming and and they looked up at their mother and father with those big blue eyes all babies have, there was no way in hell they would have expected these two sweet little things to cause their parents to stress so much, and wreak so much damn havoc in the world. And, though they probably guessed that within the first week of getting them home (which was a week after the premature twins were born), TBC.

Personality*; Burton is crazy. He's a crazy, crazy, crazy, crazy, crazy son of a bitch. Technically, he's been diagnosed with bipolar disorder with psychotic tendencies, and it's likely that's all he really technically has, but a diagnosis like that comes with a whole host of complex problems. It doesn't just mean he's up, he's down, he's excited, he's depressed, he's happy, he's sad, and then sometimes he's kind of stable and sane. Oh, no, yeah, Burton has those crazy days, those manic days and those depressed days, days where he can't sit still and can't stand not moving or being silent or even eating certain foods followed by days in which he is suicidally depressed and so crippled by the weight of his own psyche that he can't even get out of bed, or keep his breakfast down, or bear to even think of himself and where he is in his life, but there's more to it than that. Because there are the panic attacks, and there are the hallucinations from days of no sleep, or of isolation because of paranoid delusions about the other people, or about the imperical intentions of the English and the Americans and the Russians and whose side are you going to be on when they take over the world and you're forced to choose a culture and a language with which to assimilate? And then there are the memories. Yeah, the memories, personified by scars on your body, and tattoos to cover them up, because they're more than just those stupid scars from cutting yourself and trying to kill yourself, they're from pulling the skin from your body in a fidgety fit of panic and anxiety, in an obsessive-compulsive, yet futile, attempt to keep yourself symmetrical in your scars and even in your pain and your blood. The memories of past attacks and what you can end up doing to yourself in such fits of insanity, the guilt trips that come with stupid shit you just so happened to do when you were crazy and self-medicated with opiates to keep you from tearing your skin from your body, or with amphetamines on those down, down, down in the dumps days.

Yeah, he's got those kinds of scars, too. The proof that he is crazy.

I told you so.

And Burton is not only crazy, he is angry. No, not all the time, but he is quick to anger. It is something that he will always partially blame on his mental illnesses, but it's something he will always also have to take responsibility for himself. His temper is quick, and it is fiery, and it is not something to brush off, because he is, more than anything, fucking strong. He's a short guy, a bit stocky, but nothing too threatening. Without the tattoos, and without the eyeliner running because of his intense swearing and vain attempts to control his anger, he actually seems kind of puny, and inviting, and definitely not angry or intimidating in the fucking least. But, you know what? There's something to him. He may have a soft figure, but his fists are harder than yours, and his bite is five times worse than his bark, and guess fucking what? That face ain't pretty, and it ain't exactly his money maker, so don't be shy about landing a few punches in there. Knock out a few more teeth, and maybe they'll give him a prize. He's rough, he's tough, and he's a gruff son of a fucking bitch.

But you can't be angry all the time. Especially not when you're married and a father of three, or when you're the caring and protective twin brother of someone even punier looking than you -- and, as opposed to you, not tougher than he looks -- who has a tendency to sleep around with whoever smiles pretty and bats his or her shiny little eyes. Especially when you're crazy and need a little help from time to time. Burton is protective as fuck and will stand by those who have done him right. You don't need to save his life, but you can say you trust him, or you like him, or you believe in him and his music, or even just not fucking lie to him when he trusts you and lets you into his home, or into his car, or just into his general area, and he will like you, and he will protect you. Just be a good person. That's all he asks. But betray him, or someone he loves, and you're shit to him. You're worse than shit. You're a piece of dog shit that got stuck to his foot and needs to be scraped off on the sidewalk but won't go away so he ends up using a hose or one of his daggers to hose it off or scrape it off, and you need to go away. No, really, if you know what's good for you, you need to fucking go. the fuck. away. Burton hasn't been institutionalized for threatening ire. He's been institutionalized at least once for enacting such ire and then acting upon it. And that time it was completely uncalled for because he was also being paranoid. So. You know. Be careful if you actually do something to him.

More than that, though, Burton is loving. Believe it or not, he's loving and caring and soft and kind when he gets rid of all that anger and insanity built up inside of him. Put him with his wife, or with his children, or with his brother, or with his best friends, or just anyone he really, truly cares about, and he calms right down. He puts his arm around his wife and he tells her that he loves her and he can't live without her. No, not in that crazy, "I WOULD FUCKING DIE WITHOUT YOU, YOU WANT ME TO KILL MYSELF? IF YOU LEAVE ME, I'LL KILL MYSELF. YOU HEAR THAT? FUCKING KILL MYSELF." kind of way, though he probably would kill himself if his wife left him for good and for real, but in that loving "I love you. No, I love you more. Nooo, I love you more. Okay, okay, we love each other the same amount, even though I really feel like I love you more. No, really, I do feel that. I love you more than you could ever know. Now you hang up first. No, you hang up first. We can't hang up at the same time, you know we'll just end up falling asleep on the phone. We can do that. I love you. I can't fall asleep without you breathing." kind of way. It's fucking disgusting. But it's true. Because he's passionate. Most of all, out of everything, he is passionate, and he is passionate about those he loves, and he's passionate about the way they make him feel, and he's passionate about the things he loves and the way they make him feel. Like music, and the way it, they, everything, makes him feel calm, and safe, and secure, and, most of all, more than anything, more than any one thing that he has ever felt or experienced or wanted in this world, more than any treatment he has ever undergone, and despite the best intentions of everyone and anyone that tried to help him over the years, whether they truly knew, or cared about him at all, these people, and these things that surround him and that he loves and that he always wants around him, they make him feel sane. And that's all Burton has ever, ever, ever truly wanted in this world. Fucking sanity. And it will almost always fucking escape him if he tries to pursue it on his own.

Though he doesn't exactly want to be pigeonholed in all extremes, Burton really, truly is a very extreme kind of guy. He is happy, he is sad, but he is not left in such a grey area. He is excited, he is depressed, he loves, he hates. No, he loathes. He fucking despises. And so, when he's excited, when he's active, he's very much so. When he wants to dance, he gets up and he dances, whether or not there is fucking music or he has any kind of drug or alcohol in his system, believe it or not. It's no wonder that he used to be a total raver kid when he was younger. But more than that, when he is loyal, he is fucking loyal to a motherfucking fault. No, not only that, he's compassionate, and he refuses to waiver from what he believes is right. He thinks that the Soviet Union has destroyed the home that he loves so much, Vilnius, a city he has never known free from Communism, but that he feels can be even more beautiful when freed from the grips of Marxism and the USSR, even though he is, by the way, a Soviet citizen, and will never truly defect. He will not defect from the Soviet Union until the Soviet Union falls. He will just dislike it. And he is a humanitarian. Oh, no, he doesn't seem like your typical philanthropist, but isn't that what all punks truly are? They're fighting for the people, they're fighting for the people that are just like them, the ones that don't have a voice and have been kept down and alienated and oppressed, that are not only disliked and ignored by the ruling class, but have been pushed aside, marginalized, despised or just plain forgotten about by people on their own plane of existence. That's what they do. That's what they're supposed to do, at least. And that's what Burton knows. He's just more vociferous about his fights, for the equal rights of Muggleborns, and homosexuals, and foreigners, and freaks, and nerds, and idiots and lovers and haters and anyone who strays from the middle ground and refuses to stick to the norm.

And you know how Burton does this? Oh, it's not very hard to tell, when you meet him and you look at him. I mean, he's either a tattoo artist or a musician with the way he looks, and either a writer or a musician with the way he smokes. So, yeah, he's a musician, and he does this through his music. He voices the concerns of the fellow man, of the regular man, of the downtrodden and forgotten fucking man, through his music. He couldn't always play the instruments that he plays, or read music, or even write the lyrics to the songs that he writes in any language that wasn't Lithuanian and Russian, but he learned. He learned how to speak and read and write in English when he was a child and forced to attend school in another country, a fucking world away, and he learned Swedish and German and other languages, he learned how to read music and play the piano and the guitar and the bass guitar and the drums. He learned because he was determined, and he was smart. Maybe if he was a little more stable and a little more sane, he could use this intelligence and this determination to conquer some aspect of the business world -- advertising, or law, or just start and own a business empire, but he's too unstable and insane for that kind of shit. No one could stand employing someone like Burton Jones, or Svitrigaila Juozapavicius, as he would be forced to be called in an office setting. Oh, he could probably learn to sit down and type 100 words per minute on one of those computers or typewriters, and he could copy and transfer calls and he could come up with the advertising slogans that kids would be saying all around the world, "Got Milk?" or "Cowabunga, dude!" or "Slinky, Slinky, everyone loves a slinky!" He could own that world. If only he could control himself... and could take care of a few of those tattoos. But, no, he can't control himself, and there's no getting rid of those tattoos. Not only is he a little too attached to those tattoos, and a little too artistic and creative to stand such a drab environment (and he really and truly is a very creative person, but he has never considered himself more creative than the next man. Well, maybe a touch more creative, but he's just always assumed that he seems more artistic and creative because that's all he feels his job really requires, and because he has tattoos and a guitar or a microphone, and he's at least getting paid to sing a song and do something that's not really completely necessary to this world), sitting still would drive him up a wall in and of itself. Oh, yeah, it's more than just waiting around for him to have a panic attack and destroy a computer while sitting in his cubicle because he's sane and a ticking fucking time bomb. The act of having a day-to-day fucking job and sitting around and obeying someone else that doesn't know him at all and sure as fuck doesn't give a shit about him, they just want him to cowtow to fucking Capitalism (okay, so maybe he was just a little more used to Communism than he cared to admit), now that would send him up a motherfucking wall, motherfucker.

Ugh, yeah. Is there anything else? Because the most important thing is that Burton motherfucking Jones, that crazy as shit Lithuanian who doesn't give a shit about you sometimes, and loves the crap out of you other days, the half-gay (or... to be honest, probably more than that) nationalist and gung ho Muggleborn, the singer-slash-keyboardist-slash-drummer-slash-songwriter-slash-bassist-slash-vigilante-for-justice, the man who listens to Lithuanian rap and dances to it with his twin brother, who he cares about insanely and passionately and will protect to the ends of this earth and stick with more than anyone and anything, whether he deserves it or not, whether he was completely, totally, 100% wrong or not, the man who will threaten to tear a hole in your throat and pull your tongue through it, then fall asleep with his infant son in his arms and his wife on his shoulder, breathing down his neck, who refuses to follow tradition, but will not buck it just for the sake of bucking it, who acts rashly, but thinks through every action that will affect him in the long run on the right day, who has slept with more men than he can count, but wants nothing more than to raise several perfect little children in a perfect little family with his perfect little wife, the man who has been institutionalized probably at least a dozen or more times, who acts shameless but is too embarrassed to admit to the public that he wants to write his own autobiography and finally sit down and chronologically detail the story of his life, and who is, more than anything, afraid to do anything in this world alone, without the help of his brother, his wife, his parents, his children, his best friends, his bandmates, his new friends, his old friends, his fans, and anyone who might tag along, even his pets -- the most important thing about that man is that he is no one but himself, and he isn't trying to be anyone else. He cannot fit into any kind of pigeonhole that you want to stick him in. Maybe a couple. Maybe hundreds. Some contradict each other, even. But not one.

Burton Jones is no stereotype. He's just complicated.

Height; 5'7"
Weight; About 140.
Eyes; Seem to be hazel.
Hair; Naturally a bright and shiny blond, like his mother's and like the white part of his father's hair, but he dyes it black.
Dress Style; Burton's the type of guy to buy t-shirts for all the bands he loves, but who got into all the cool bands way too late for anything but ironic and faux vintage versions of those shirts to be out on the market -- or, there are no shirts for them. It's not his fault. He's from the Soviet Union, where the 60s started in 1976 and ended in 1983, when the 70s started, and their choices of local music include Foje, Foje, Hiperbole, Foje, and the Red March. But, that's what he has, the lame aged black shirts for Lou Reed, and The Cure, and David Bowie, and a homemade Foje shirt that he loves so much and got signed by Andrius Mamontovas himself. He's got some other shirts that his wife picks up for him, and trousers that look more like pyjama pants and are all horribly patched up from fans ripping at them and children chewing on them, but, in general, he looks like he rolled around in a thrift store and walked out with whatever stuck to him. Accessories are another story, though. Burton is so confident that he can rock whatever he's got on, and mildly effeminate (to put it lightly), that he often wears pink plugs, a necklace full of charms from his wife, bracelets, and isn't afraid to cake on the make up. Though, that might be attributed to the fact that his mother is a make up artist.

Romantic Status; Married to Anastasia Elyashkevich, aka Liz Jones.
Sexual Preference; Technically, he's bisexual, but sexuality is a confusing thing with Burton. Until he met Liz, he identified as a gay man, and he still tends to call himself gay or "mostly gay". A common misconception is that he tried to pray the gay away, or chose to become another sexuality, but, in all honesty, he was always bisexual. He had just never had a strong physical attraction to a female until his wife, and he was outed against his will long before he had managed to figure that out, so he never really experimented to find out how he felt about girls. He just decided he was gay, until he was forced to reevaluate. At that point, falling in love with a woman was just natural to him, and he went with it. He just hopes his fans who regarded him as a hero to the gay community can forgive him, and would stop breaking into his home and watching him sleep. Though that might have been a dream or a hallucination.

Affiliation and reasoning; Burton walks a thin line between good and bad. You know, that "I'll do fucking ANYTHING to be free, even if it means killing you all where you stand" kind of mentality. He could have been a Slytherin, but he's not cunning about it. He's just straightforward and pissed off about being oppressed all his life for everything he can't control, and a few things that he definitely can control. So he's definitely not on the side of the oppressors, he's on the side of the liberators, a member of the Order of the Phoenix and a supporter of the Ashwinder Coalition, and very, very, very anti-Ministry, Death Eaters, and the Dark Side in general.

* Note, this personality was written while less than sane and slightly under the influence. Just... so you know.

Disclaimer; This is a roleplay journal only. The character is original, and not based off any one person or trying to be anyone. Not even Wil Francis, though the similarities can be fucking crazy at times. The world he lives in isn't really mine, though, but I doubt anyone's trolling IJ to sue me.

take me out tonight, where there's music and there's people

limeswithorange @ 2007-12-06T22:24:00