you've got your (exitvoid) application
Jul. 25th, 2012 06:59 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
poleblicdisturbanceplayer.
NAME/HANDLE: Greer
PERSONAL JOURNAL:zhopa
ARE YOU 16 OR OVER?: Yes.
CONTACT:
(e-mail: kukuhead@live.com (please pm or private plurk me your email first, though! Everything I don't know goes to junk mail)
aim: hurghleburlebutz
plurk:![[plurk.com profile]](https://plurk.com/favicon.ico)
zhopa etc)
OTHER CHARACTERS: n/a
NAME/HANDLE: Greer
PERSONAL JOURNAL:
zhopa ARE YOU 16 OR OVER?: Yes.
CONTACT:
(e-mail: kukuhead@live.com (please pm or private plurk me your email first, though! Everything I don't know goes to junk mail)
aim: hurghleburlebutz
plurk:
OTHER CHARACTERS: n/a
character.
CHARACTER NAME: Stefan Bekowsky
SERIES: L.A. Noire and history more specific to him
CANON POINT: After the Naked City DLC
AGE: 26
APPEARANCE:
PREVIOUS GAME HISTORY: n/a
PERSONALITY:
When you first meet Bekowsky in-game, another random detective proclaims "I hope you like work, because Bekowsky sure doesn't." This statement is half-true. Bekowsky, to a fellow detective who he only sees at the station, would certainly think he didn't do any work because he probably doesn't. It's canon that he'll avoid arresting small-time criminals to avoid the paperwork, after all. That doesn't mean he doesn't do his job. In fact, compared to the rest of the partners received in L.A. Noire, it wouldn't be outlandish to claim that Bekowsky, next to the main character, is the most enthusiastic about his job. He sincerely believe in his job and what it entails (saving people, stopping them from being stupid, righting injustices, etc.) These traits are outlined in his enthusiasm to stopping the criminals in the more major cases, such as Fallen Idol, where they have to catch a child molester. His moral compass of right and wrong is very much based on the L.A. and US government systems of law, AKA taking offense to things people normally find offensive, such as murder, rape, and abuse. However, when presented with the evidence that such events have taken place, he is seemingly unphased by it, likely due to the nature of his job. As a detective, he's doubtlessly seen murders, rapes and abuse cases where he still knows the act is wrong, but is acclimated to the sight of them so that he doesn't react too much when he sees the aftermath of the actions.
Bekowsky shares the similar casual sexism and racism that was common amongst people in the 1940's. While this does not excuse the behavior, it's more something that he was brought up with and can be changed, as seen by his friendly relations with the hispanic Enrique Gonzalez, a patrol officer Phelps and Bekowsky run into in the Fallen Idol case. Additionally, it should be kept in mind that, as a cop, Stefan has to deal with the worst part of every social grouping. So while in-game we see him use racial slurs (specifically towards hispanics, likely due to his canon participation in the Zoot Suit Riots and the largely unfavorable perception of hispanics in 1940's L.A.) it's only ever really used with people who are suspects or associated with a case (not that that makes it any better). Unless you're Japanese, in which case the widespread ignorance that was abundant in the 1940's towards Japan and Japanese culture comes shining through.
Bekowsky is also jaded, showing a bitterness towards people (salesmen in particular) most likely due to the exposure he's had to them in his career. Yet out of all the murderers, thieves and cons the people to evoke the most virulent reaction are smoothtalkers–people who either believe the lies they're saying or are just good at them. This is probably due to the fact that out of all the characters in the game, Bekowsky is the most sincere in what he says. This sincerity, exhibited in many cases (Slip of the Tongue, for example, while talking to the female suspect), clashes with the false sincerity of many of the people and is ranted about in three of the four traffic cases.
Despite all of that, he is a good guy. Out of all the partners in L.A. Noire he's the most talkative and friendly. When first meeting him, he appears to have a casual friendship with people throughout the station, cheerily chatting with them while introducing himself to Cole. He's also loyal, particularly to his partners, as shown when he defends Cole (even though it's not necessary) from two gangsters (who are actually just incited by Bekowsky to shoot their car). He's a good, well-meaning guy who would defend anyone he thinks is an equally good person. Which seems to be a lot of people.
ABILITIES:
He's decent with a .38 revolver and a good driver but that's about it besides the standard detective skills. He's a pretty average guy.
POSSESSIONS:
A brown plaid suit, probably made from tweed A green and yellow plaid tie White dress shirt Brown dress pants Brown fedora A .38 revolver with full rounds or whatever. Cigarette case with 2/3rds of the cigarettes gone (he's a casual smoker) Lighter Brown leather wallet with twenty dollars inside
samples.
JOURNAL ENTRY SAMPLE:
[A fairly average manwith an abnormally large forehead in a fedora looms over the… compass. Quizzical. Frustrated. His right ear reddened from some strain (attempting to pull that strange ear-device out–he was convinced the commies had put it there).]
You know, I was in the middle of a case and they don't take too kindly to detectives skipping out on those.
Now, I don't know if someone's got a grudge against me or what but let me just inform you: Cops? We're not good for ransom. And I don't even look like a movie star. Come on. [He makes arches an eyebrow and gives the camera a look. You can do better.]
But seeings as how I'm not the only one on this little cruise and seeing as how we seem to have an abundance of time… [He waves the compass towards the missing life boats and hoists himself up onto the crates.] … how about a round of introductions?
[It's a bit awkward asking that because he's talking to a compass but… Well. He was also kidnapped onto a ship for no reason.]
I'll go first. [He digs into his suit pocket and pulls out a case of cigarettes and a lighter. He lights a cigarette and places it between his lips, giving a half-smile at the camera.] Stefan Bekowski, homicide.
[Shut up, he's trying to look cool.]
THIRD-PERSON SAMPLE:
Bekowsky hadn't found out until the day after it had happened. Guy's first partner and he hadn't found out until the day after it had happened. It'd be shameful if it hadn't been how the majority of the force found out. The fact that he wasn't alone in receiving the news comforted him, but not by much.
He hadn't taken the day off to grieve. Neither had Rusty. Too much paperwork to slog through-an act of will usually, now becoming a trial from God. Rusty seemed to notice, mutter a few words to him. Thickly veiled attempts at comfort-or so he thought. Bekowsky had shrugged it off. Insisted he was fine, Rusty. It wasn't the first time a partner had died. Except it was. Rusty knew but also knew better than to care.
The rest of the day passed with paper in his fingertips, writing dusty files for the future. It was mind-numbing work. Moreso than the news-something that was surprisingly easy to ignore after he had already heard it.
It wasn't until he slid into his car that something felt amiss. A shift in the air that didn't quite feel natural. He sat in the driver's seat, hands on his thighs, brow furrowed. Curious, he glanced at the passenger's seat, frown quirking further downward. He tried to shrug it off and placed his hands on the wheel, gripping it tightly, then loosely, confirming its presence in his hands. It did nothing to ease his feeling of unease.
So he turned on the radio and it crackled to life with such eager ferocity that he couldn't help but smile, leaning back in his seat. The unease faded and, still smiling, he pressed down on the gas, slowly easing out of the station parking lot. Peeking out from the driveway, he glanced to his left, saw the intersection where he had once been in an accident.
Phelps had been driving. Christ, why did he ever let Phelps drive? Or at the very least, why hadn't anyone warned him Phelps was a menace on the road?
He probably should have talked to his patrol partner to learn that, in hindsight.
The radio changed from an ad to a song Cole had once proclaimed as "good". As if marking the paltry thing with his seal of holy judgment. Bekowsky snorted and smiled. The song wasn't even something he figured the guy would like. A fast-paced rhythm with mind-numbingly catchy lyrics, even though it was hard to make out the words. Who'd have thought a stiff like Phelps would like something like that?
Then again, Cole had been full of surprises. His seriousness, now that was expected-but the genuinity of his words was near astonishing. Add that to the fact he was probably one of the few straight cops in Los Angeles and you had a straight up freak as a partner. The town was a city of secrets-it was rare to find someone who actually told the truth. Or as much of it as he could.
Say what you will about Phelps, Bekowsky had once told his fellow detectives, but he's a damn good cop. The detectives had only laughed-teased him and asked if he had a crush on the guy.
Bekowsky merely snorted and called them idiots.
He pressed the brakes and slowed the car to a halt at a red light Cole would have run through.
"What a maniac." But he smiled, despite the words. Pressing forward as the light changed, he skillfully wove through traffic, driving past all to familiar locations. Places where he and Phelps had caught petty criminals, found clues. He saw people that reminded him of lectures. "Treat everyone with respect."
"Unless they don't deserve it." He muttered, turning a sharp corner. One Phelps would have missed by a longshot. "Damn hypocrite."
Despite the months they were partnered together, Stefan and Cole had never been close. Cole wasn't exactly easy to get close to and Bekowsky wasn't sure he wanted to try. He was satisfied with their talks, their inane arguments in the car, the shared brainstorming about whatever case they were on. They were friends without knowing each other, and that had been fine by him.
Now, he wasn't so sure.
He passed a truck carrying bales of hay-weird for downtown L.A.-and continued on, occasionally glancing at the passenger's seat.
Phelps had insisted on driving for their time as partners. Bekowsky never knew why, and at first he never objected. After four trips to the mechanic he had changed that decision, though he still indulged Cole. Crashes and cases always made interesting stories.
He'd have a place to tell the ones involving Cole now.
The unease resettled around him but now he knew the source. The passenger seat where Cole would sit, lecturing him on his communist ideals or something similar. He twisted his hands on the wheel, lips thinning and eyes refocusing on the road.
He drove past a billboard with a painted man, broad-chinned and smiling, loudly proclaiming something about life being too short. Bekowsky found it oddly true.
CHARACTER NAME: Stefan Bekowsky
SERIES: L.A. Noire and history more specific to him
CANON POINT: After the Naked City DLC
AGE: 26
APPEARANCE:
PREVIOUS GAME HISTORY: n/a
PERSONALITY:
When you first meet Bekowsky in-game, another random detective proclaims "I hope you like work, because Bekowsky sure doesn't." This statement is half-true. Bekowsky, to a fellow detective who he only sees at the station, would certainly think he didn't do any work because he probably doesn't. It's canon that he'll avoid arresting small-time criminals to avoid the paperwork, after all. That doesn't mean he doesn't do his job. In fact, compared to the rest of the partners received in L.A. Noire, it wouldn't be outlandish to claim that Bekowsky, next to the main character, is the most enthusiastic about his job. He sincerely believe in his job and what it entails (saving people, stopping them from being stupid, righting injustices, etc.) These traits are outlined in his enthusiasm to stopping the criminals in the more major cases, such as Fallen Idol, where they have to catch a child molester. His moral compass of right and wrong is very much based on the L.A. and US government systems of law, AKA taking offense to things people normally find offensive, such as murder, rape, and abuse. However, when presented with the evidence that such events have taken place, he is seemingly unphased by it, likely due to the nature of his job. As a detective, he's doubtlessly seen murders, rapes and abuse cases where he still knows the act is wrong, but is acclimated to the sight of them so that he doesn't react too much when he sees the aftermath of the actions.
Bekowsky shares the similar casual sexism and racism that was common amongst people in the 1940's. While this does not excuse the behavior, it's more something that he was brought up with and can be changed, as seen by his friendly relations with the hispanic Enrique Gonzalez, a patrol officer Phelps and Bekowsky run into in the Fallen Idol case. Additionally, it should be kept in mind that, as a cop, Stefan has to deal with the worst part of every social grouping. So while in-game we see him use racial slurs (specifically towards hispanics, likely due to his canon participation in the Zoot Suit Riots and the largely unfavorable perception of hispanics in 1940's L.A.) it's only ever really used with people who are suspects or associated with a case (not that that makes it any better). Unless you're Japanese, in which case the widespread ignorance that was abundant in the 1940's towards Japan and Japanese culture comes shining through.
Bekowsky is also jaded, showing a bitterness towards people (salesmen in particular) most likely due to the exposure he's had to them in his career. Yet out of all the murderers, thieves and cons the people to evoke the most virulent reaction are smoothtalkers–people who either believe the lies they're saying or are just good at them. This is probably due to the fact that out of all the characters in the game, Bekowsky is the most sincere in what he says. This sincerity, exhibited in many cases (Slip of the Tongue, for example, while talking to the female suspect), clashes with the false sincerity of many of the people and is ranted about in three of the four traffic cases.
Despite all of that, he is a good guy. Out of all the partners in L.A. Noire he's the most talkative and friendly. When first meeting him, he appears to have a casual friendship with people throughout the station, cheerily chatting with them while introducing himself to Cole. He's also loyal, particularly to his partners, as shown when he defends Cole (even though it's not necessary) from two gangsters (who are actually just incited by Bekowsky to shoot their car). He's a good, well-meaning guy who would defend anyone he thinks is an equally good person. Which seems to be a lot of people.
ABILITIES:
He's decent with a .38 revolver and a good driver but that's about it besides the standard detective skills. He's a pretty average guy.
POSSESSIONS:
A brown plaid suit, probably made from tweed A green and yellow plaid tie White dress shirt Brown dress pants Brown fedora A .38 revolver with full rounds or whatever. Cigarette case with 2/3rds of the cigarettes gone (he's a casual smoker) Lighter Brown leather wallet with twenty dollars inside
samples.
JOURNAL ENTRY SAMPLE:
[A fairly average man
You know, I was in the middle of a case and they don't take too kindly to detectives skipping out on those.
Now, I don't know if someone's got a grudge against me or what but let me just inform you: Cops? We're not good for ransom. And I don't even look like a movie star. Come on. [He makes arches an eyebrow and gives the camera a look. You can do better.]
But seeings as how I'm not the only one on this little cruise and seeing as how we seem to have an abundance of time… [He waves the compass towards the missing life boats and hoists himself up onto the crates.] … how about a round of introductions?
[It's a bit awkward asking that because he's talking to a compass but… Well. He was also kidnapped onto a ship for no reason.]
I'll go first. [He digs into his suit pocket and pulls out a case of cigarettes and a lighter. He lights a cigarette and places it between his lips, giving a half-smile at the camera.] Stefan Bekowski, homicide.
[Shut up, he's trying to look cool.]
THIRD-PERSON SAMPLE:
Bekowsky hadn't found out until the day after it had happened. Guy's first partner and he hadn't found out until the day after it had happened. It'd be shameful if it hadn't been how the majority of the force found out. The fact that he wasn't alone in receiving the news comforted him, but not by much.
He hadn't taken the day off to grieve. Neither had Rusty. Too much paperwork to slog through-an act of will usually, now becoming a trial from God. Rusty seemed to notice, mutter a few words to him. Thickly veiled attempts at comfort-or so he thought. Bekowsky had shrugged it off. Insisted he was fine, Rusty. It wasn't the first time a partner had died. Except it was. Rusty knew but also knew better than to care.
The rest of the day passed with paper in his fingertips, writing dusty files for the future. It was mind-numbing work. Moreso than the news-something that was surprisingly easy to ignore after he had already heard it.
It wasn't until he slid into his car that something felt amiss. A shift in the air that didn't quite feel natural. He sat in the driver's seat, hands on his thighs, brow furrowed. Curious, he glanced at the passenger's seat, frown quirking further downward. He tried to shrug it off and placed his hands on the wheel, gripping it tightly, then loosely, confirming its presence in his hands. It did nothing to ease his feeling of unease.
So he turned on the radio and it crackled to life with such eager ferocity that he couldn't help but smile, leaning back in his seat. The unease faded and, still smiling, he pressed down on the gas, slowly easing out of the station parking lot. Peeking out from the driveway, he glanced to his left, saw the intersection where he had once been in an accident.
Phelps had been driving. Christ, why did he ever let Phelps drive? Or at the very least, why hadn't anyone warned him Phelps was a menace on the road?
He probably should have talked to his patrol partner to learn that, in hindsight.
The radio changed from an ad to a song Cole had once proclaimed as "good". As if marking the paltry thing with his seal of holy judgment. Bekowsky snorted and smiled. The song wasn't even something he figured the guy would like. A fast-paced rhythm with mind-numbingly catchy lyrics, even though it was hard to make out the words. Who'd have thought a stiff like Phelps would like something like that?
Then again, Cole had been full of surprises. His seriousness, now that was expected-but the genuinity of his words was near astonishing. Add that to the fact he was probably one of the few straight cops in Los Angeles and you had a straight up freak as a partner. The town was a city of secrets-it was rare to find someone who actually told the truth. Or as much of it as he could.
Say what you will about Phelps, Bekowsky had once told his fellow detectives, but he's a damn good cop. The detectives had only laughed-teased him and asked if he had a crush on the guy.
Bekowsky merely snorted and called them idiots.
He pressed the brakes and slowed the car to a halt at a red light Cole would have run through.
"What a maniac." But he smiled, despite the words. Pressing forward as the light changed, he skillfully wove through traffic, driving past all to familiar locations. Places where he and Phelps had caught petty criminals, found clues. He saw people that reminded him of lectures. "Treat everyone with respect."
"Unless they don't deserve it." He muttered, turning a sharp corner. One Phelps would have missed by a longshot. "Damn hypocrite."
Despite the months they were partnered together, Stefan and Cole had never been close. Cole wasn't exactly easy to get close to and Bekowsky wasn't sure he wanted to try. He was satisfied with their talks, their inane arguments in the car, the shared brainstorming about whatever case they were on. They were friends without knowing each other, and that had been fine by him.
Now, he wasn't so sure.
He passed a truck carrying bales of hay-weird for downtown L.A.-and continued on, occasionally glancing at the passenger's seat.
Phelps had insisted on driving for their time as partners. Bekowsky never knew why, and at first he never objected. After four trips to the mechanic he had changed that decision, though he still indulged Cole. Crashes and cases always made interesting stories.
He'd have a place to tell the ones involving Cole now.
The unease resettled around him but now he knew the source. The passenger seat where Cole would sit, lecturing him on his communist ideals or something similar. He twisted his hands on the wheel, lips thinning and eyes refocusing on the road.
He drove past a billboard with a painted man, broad-chinned and smiling, loudly proclaiming something about life being too short. Bekowsky found it oddly true.
