Post by Alfredo Linguini on Dec 31, 2008 3:50:29 GMT -5
Worlds of Disney
<<Alfredo Linguini>>
Username: themark
Movie(s) your character is in: Ratatouille
<<Alfredo Linguini>>
Username: themark
Movie(s) your character is in: Ratatouille
Character's Personality [ + Appearance ]:
A modest lifestyle builds a modest person. Because he wasn't raised like a kid who got everything on his christmas list, or any list, Alfredo has always been grateful for anything that came his way. He doesn't take even the simplest things for granted. A lot of it he owed to his mother who had brought him up to be the charming thoughtful gentleman he was. And it had completely been her intention. She had consciously made sure she was teaching him all the things she wanted him to be, characteristics that would benefit him in his future.
Yet at the same time it did result in him being a bit of a doormat. He didn't have too many problems at school, he did a pretty good job of making a foolish display of himself just fine on his own. But he had made a few friends that weren't so much friends with him because of him but only for the aspect that he would do most things they asked of him. He knew right from wrong yes, he had a good head on his shoulders, but at the same time he would get caught up in someone's request and he always thought he was automatically obligated to do as requested. Which made him a great help around the house for his mother at least. He wasn't the kind of son that would whine about doing such things when there were games to be played or tv to be watched.
People would say they would see a lot of Renata in her only son. The eyes especially, the shade of hazel was identical, as was their horizon inspired hair. She'd kept it rather long on him for many years, as it would get to puffed when it was short. But when he was in high school he had to keep it cut for athletics. Hah, athletics. Could you imagine? He did survive, at least. The couch would say, "Linguini, as long as you're not last, you don't fail the class." To him it was better than something like a quiet, shut away, isolated study hall. Or having to answer phones as an office aid, or watch the gross messes that went on in the nurses office. No he didn't have the stomach for that one. The class wasn't so bad. He was alright at soccer. Go figure, he could hardly do a lap around the track without hurting himself but when it came to kicking a ball around a field, well he wasn't exactly horrible. Not that he was exactly great.
And there was a lot of his father in him too. His mother didn't say this very often, but it had been said. Linguini didn't ask questions. He was able to tell his mother was uncomfortable about the subject. He'd never had too many questions about his father. Long ago he was told that his dad was a sweet man but it wasn't love, but Renata loved Alfredo. He knew that they had some facial features that made her mother double take at him more the older he got. He wasn't even a chubby baby. There was no point in time that he had any extra bulk on him. Whether it was fat or muscle. His mother told him he was lucky since she was heavy as a kid and his father definitely made her think he might have had weight issues. But the older Linguini got the slimmer and more stretched out he became.
Alfredo had plenty of insecurities but many not so many that were on the surface of his own consciousness but everyone around him saw it. Renata was always asking him about things like that, like how he felt about his appearance. And although in high school that's what boys and girls pondered on plenty, it wasn't something he was worried about. He didn't fear things like failure, as he was a guy with few goals. And this was because he was a person with few skills and drive. If he started something he tried to finish it, but if it was an option sometimes he would either turn away completely or try, fail, but be mostly unmoved by it. Maybe he did, just a little. Over the years things would get to him. He could never find the right words to express how he'd feel towards something. And he wasn't great at carrying conversations. He was definitely the listener.
An insecurity that Fred didn't have was that typical masculine need to stand high on something, to tower over others, or prove himself to be better, let alone best. Not that he had a lot to show off with. Still, he'd really been a nice and honest guy all in all through out his life. He fabricated now and then, mainly in time of pressure if something went wrong. He'd stumble all over his messy words trying to find a better reason for being late to class than 'I got lost'.
Character's History:
Renata wasn't a woman easily discouraged from anything and certainly wasn't one to stay caged in her home Palermo of Sicily. After two years of extra study, only at the age of twenty, she pursued her longing to see beyond her island. The only traveling she had done as a girl was with her family to the states. There lived two of her mother's sisters one of which, Letizia, that resided with her husband and family of three in Manhattan, New York. Renata had visited this city more than once, but few times. Even so she'd fallen in love with it. She was such a passionate person, her heart had more love than it could contain some times. She wasn't one to be called fickle but she always was such a romantic. It wasn't too much of a challenge for a young chef in France to sweep her off her feet. Paris was the third city over the span of five years that Rena had explored. She'd had little contact with her parents through the time as it was a tad upsetting that she would choose something like hopping from place to place because she was claustrophobic. Like any parents they would have much preferred her to stay in school and build a career along with a family and a home for herself. Instead she was running around who knows where to their knowledge, and doing who knows what.
What would be Auguste. He was pretty much everything she thought about while she was staying in France. Eventually she was staying at his place, hardly able to bring in enough money to keep up with hotels and wasn't always staying in the nicest of places. Auguste owned a business and establishment he'd started himself and was a proud rising artist in his field. It was all very attractive to his Italian flame. She was lovely herself, thin and fit being small in stature. She admired Auguste's gorgeous blue eyes while he got lost in her bronzed. Maybe he was unsure if he was in love or not but Renata was so taken with him. Their relationship was often a topic of jest to the staff of the Gusteau kitchen. And then suddenly she was gone. They all immediately noticed the change in their friend and boss who hadn't even told them Renata and him had said goodbye days after she'd left the country. America was in her sights and she was determined to move on and away from the man who couldn't return her love for him. When all was done and she would no longer be able to see the lights of Paris every night her bitterness faded. She missed him, but she became a little more sensible about things. What they had was so short lived and it wasn't the most conventional of relationships to begin with. The longer she was able to stay in New York and not whimper for France matched the growing confidence in her that said she had gotten too caught up in a guy and took things to heart when it was obvious they were merely a 'thing' and not something particularly special.
And there were others. Being the loving person she was she had no problem getting her eyes stuck onto American men. Yet she did have one in your face turn off that wasn't easy to hide. And that was the innocent, unborn life growing inside of her. There was never a doubt in her mind or in her heart that the father of her first and only child lived thousands of miles away. But she would not concern him or involve him with this. They weren't ever in contact after she left, and she didn't want to get in contact. She didn't need the distraction of someone that wasn't part of her life anymore while trying to raise the someone who would be her everything in life. Renata named her son quite practically but the story was only slightly romantic. Though most part cheesy. And any friend in the city made point to let her know she was just asking for her child to be the center of attention for school bullies.
Fred was the only child that Renata ever had or ever wanted. He had been such an easy kid to raise. Through all his early years he'd been taught to be respectful and charming and was hardly ever a brat. As he reached his preteen years he learned fast that his mother wouldn't put up with any spoiled behavior. And he couldn't afford to be spoiled. Literally. Alfredo had been raised just eight blocks or so from the theatre district but before they'd settled in their small apartment, age eleven at the time, they were living out of duffle bags, going from place to place. Anyone who needed a house sitter or temperately rent payer for the month while the owners were out - that's where they'd be. They were a broken sort of family but loved each other and most likely spent close to every night's dinner together. Which was more than always the cheapest slices of NY pizza they could find. No toppings, and really no warmth half the time. Renata couldn't cook for her son if she wanted to, it was a skill she'd never picked up. Chinese take out and pizza was fine with her, and good enough for Alfred. There wasn't must distance between one monthly home and the next, Renata's attempted to stay as close to her son's school as possible. The school where he was always known only as Linguini. It'd started by the teachers and the students picked it up. It was a nice school but not a nice city. Renata didn't like him in those crowds alone, the subways and the corners here and there, it was frightening to any mother. When she felt it was time and they were finically secure enough to do so the two Linguini's were actually able to unpack. They had their own place, it was quite nice. In the end they were quite a ways from Alfredo's school, but she figured out a way to map out their mornings so they could travel together before splitting last minute, her to work and him to learning.
It is easy to assume that such a city would strengthen any boy. It was such a tough town, so many years there should have built a real fighter and surviver. But instead maybe this was the dud it produced, as Alfredo would go through life not one person expecting him to be from such a place. At seventeen he joined his mother with going to Europe. She'd tried to stay in the city she loved and had fantasized about as a child as long as she could. But she loved to travel, and her son knew this. He did do a little pushing to get them off to leave here and get themselves there. Where ever there may be. They made stops at many places but all in all their longest stop was in France. This would end up to be Renata's last home. She wasn't so keen on being here so long let alone staying. It was when her son mentioned he'd want to and he was actually hoping to find his own place here in the capital. That was it, the deal breaker. She could have easily wished him well and let him start his life. But she wanted to be near him. Her son was the only family she really cared about deeply and she loved him more than she ever loved anyone else in her life, anyone.
Cramped and small as anything, but it was home, Alfredo found a place in central Paris. He had no mattress but a couch, an unused stove top but plenty of left over take out in his fridge, just the way mama taught him. His mother was up north side of the city and al though they weren't always sharing dinners they talked often. There were options here, lots of choices to make. How was he going to start his life? On his own and all. It was a challenge he hadn't exactly plotted out in his head ahead of time, but that was just like him. And even though things weren't so well thought through the change of environment was nice. It was a completely different world but he knew it was the world his mother once loved and now he could love it for himself besides half told stories. He was living it himself and he was glad to be here, even if he didn't know what he was going to do here. He was only playing half his rent for a while, it was hard to find paying work. Linguini had looked into school but could never afford it. And he was happy to be out of school. Sure, it'd be nice to do the college thing but he was in no hurry to keep going to classes that would have him lost. If he had a desire to go back to school later he would. But a degree wasn't on his mind at that time. Mainly he had no skill to polish, no interest to educate. He was missing a fire to feed and that's why he didn't make too many friends in the city. He wasn't an interesting person. He had little to say and especially not in French. How did he think he was going to survive in a place like this without knowing more than twelve words of French?
Because of that lacking of skills he didn't even know where to look when it came to making money and filling his time. The places he applied weren't always so kind when turning him away. He probably got as much as two jobs out of seven that he would go out for. His interview skills were weak, he didn't have the foundation to build himself a resume and even less to put on one. For three years he hadn't kept one job longer than four months. That was quite a triumph for him. A victory, a rich one. Though his wallet wasn't very full, ironically. His mother was proud of everything he did and that was quite the motivator. It was definitely the biggest help he could ever get. She was the supporting backbone to him all his years. Her death was hard on him. She'd been ill for almost a full two years, Linguini was overlapping with jobs at this point. He was still paying for his own apartment though he was hardly there. He slept over at his mother's place and took care of her. He was barely twenty two when she really started to slip away. She was so young, it was a horrible awakening to life and how condensed time can be. At the same time it could be said without guilt that the end was a relief. She had been suffering, but no more. After two weeks things were still depressing but Linguini had only taken one day off work to mourn. No one around him mistook this in a bad light as they knew he was desperate for money and they knew he was close to his mum. Alfredo wasn't one to share emotion if it was the gloomy sorts. It definitely wasn't invisible, his momma's boy grief. But some admired the way he could put his own emotions behind him and not want to bring others down. He didn't want to be responsible for discomfort in anyone and he didn't talk about his upsetting personal matters with others at his places of employment.
He was an easy enough guy to get along with. Some were turned off by him, his lack of confidence seen as unattractive. But others loved his modesty and how unmistakably pure it was. Still a social life wasn't a priority. Alfredo was the kind of guy who needed sleep to function but he was hardly able to get a healthy amount of hours each night. And it had nothing to do with how he always seemed to fall asleep with either a light and music or a television on through the night. He'd been that way since he was very young, it was a habit he'd been exposed to and now he was still carrying it with him. He didn't like silence at night. Even with white noise from out his window he need real distractions. His mind raced so much during the day he really did need something to hold his attention and keep him calm so he could get as much sleep as he could get. He didn't have to wake up so early enough to catch public transportation. He got along either by bicycle or skates, which was also how he managed back in New York.
Only after five weeks of Renata's passing did Linguini think of the letter again. This was because he was laid off and didn't see many other options in view. She'd left for him a note of sorts to be given to a man he'd never hard of, at a restaurant he would never be able to afford the bread. And it was the very place that one knew her and he'd never heard stories either. But they seemed to recall his mother and it was a bit discouraging to have to hear things from strangers. Like that the previous owner who had recently passed as well and his mother had a fling of sorts decades ago. His mother wanted him to be able to get money and used her connection to get him a job. He tried not to see this as pathetic or begging. Though those were two things he was pretty familiar with. Even so it didn't seem right. But anything he could do to not be evicted would be best. And so he was taking out garbage. Again. For the who knows how many time. This was something he didn't need experience for though he had plenty. But something that had never happened to him before was an instant promotion. He'd never received any kind of promotion before anywhere. Now only if he know he was doing! With some unconventional help he made it around okay. It's quite a story but all in all he was cooking food. He'd always been afraid to cook anything and his mother wasn't a fan of such actions either. Linguini's fridge was littered with left over chinese take out. He didn't know how to cook for himself. This was the best he could do when it came to eating. There was a girl he worked with, one that was so strong and willed and completely feminist, it was scary and yet refreshing. She was a new help all together but a great one. Even though she was also a bit of a distraction around work. She was gorgeous and even with her aggressive out spoken ways were frightening, it was also attractive to him. He'd never felt like this about anyone and then there she was, making him melt into his converse. There were plenty of girls that got Linguini sick inside and light headed all the same, cheeks flushed, and heart fluttering but it was nothing compared to the way he'd feel when Colette's eyes shot their lasers into him. So though he wasn't sure at first whether she hated him or if he had a chance, something crazy happened and they were actually sort of... really doing this. This whole, boy girl things. Originally she'd just been a girl in the kitchen, and then his mentor, but now something completely different. She was great at this cooking thing. And with her and another secret friend's help he was actually able to survive at this job.
Then things were getting difficult - well actually he was doing things in the kitchen that was getting praised. Even though they weren't technically his works, not his creations. He would have never guessed that one day his life would be relying on something like a rat. But this animal was brilliant. He couldn't understand it. It was amazing though, and it was actually working out. But his boss wasn't exactly too taken with the praise Linguini was receiving indeed it was slightly obvious. And then another miracles happened. It came in the form of papers crumpled in his tiny chef friend's mouth. He and Colette looked over these documents in the privacy of Gusteau's old office. Gusteau, who according to the letter in Alfredo's mother's hand writing that he'd never otherwise dare to read, was Alfredo's father. And what's more was that being kin meant that he would inherit the restaurant.
It had all been quite an adventure. The money was excellent tough, and the second he got the chance Linguini moved in the a new place. He actually had his own bed now, and the view from his window was three times as amazing as before. There were ups and downs, it was pretty frightening to be owning this place. He seemed to have community support, the people who'd fall in love with the new tastes he'd brought to their tables at Gusteau's. And the media seemed like it was a big deal. That was an awkward part, interviews and such. Because Linguini was just an awkward person. And then there was the pressures. If they didn't get a good review from the cut throat critic that came to the restaurant everything could be over.
Miracles after miracles, Linguini was not accustomed to such good luck. But amazingly everything had kind of worked out. And there was honest behind it. Not only Colette knew the truth, the only chef who was their working that night standing beside Alfredo, but Ego, the critic from hell, he now knew that the whole operation had been run by a rodent. A rat was the mastermind. At first they were filled with worry by his response, or lack of one. Both Colette and Alfredo had gotten little sleep that night, staring at their own apartment ceilings or out the window, wondering how everything came down on them like this. But then it was stable castle of their hard work that couldn't be knocked down, proven by the review printed in the paper that morning. The relief, and the happiness, it was so overwhelming. And just like everything else, here and gone, there was a down side. That night their had been two witnesses of rodents being active in the kitchen area, one being a health inspector. Gusteu's was shut down. But there was light. Anton Ego, who had been fired and his reputation destroyed, made the gracious offer of financing a new place for Alfredo, and of course with the help of Colette and even the little chef. Even though he'd started being dead awful and then was relying on a small animal, Alfredo did have some cooking skills of his own, also with the help of Colette. He'd been able to learn a lot and now wasn't quite so terrible. Though even at his own place he was more of a waiter regularly than he was a cook. La Ratatouille was opened on the north west side of town where they attracted plenty of business, including friends from the streets and sewers who were served by the little chef.
Characters Likes:
Roller skating
Soccer
Chocolate dipped Oreos
Movie marathons
Fiction Novels
Vintage Hats
Character's Dislikes:
Heights
Blood
Pressure/Stress
Horror Flicks
Darkness and Silence
Cold Showers
Roleplay
There were many things about Linguini that could be described as spontaneous. This decision, these actions, this was definitely spontaneous. It was refreshing to be on American land again, but honestly he hadn't gone much farther than his childhood state of New York, never going any where near Florida. The weather was new to him, but he knew he'd adjust just fine. It was already a bit rainy earlier today. So he couldn't be blamed for the bottom half of his cuffed denims to be as wet at the were. Their were unavoidable puddles everywhere.
Looking at the gates, this was not as he'd imagined it. It was beautiful, of course. The magic was all there, large and tall and almost glowing, even though the after taste fog of an out of sight storm. There were no crowds. Lines waiting to get in were non existent here. That didn't seem right. But it was, because this is what it was now. It wasn't a place for crowds of people with a few extra hundreds to spend their days at a park. It was a home, and though the thrills and fun were still resident here, so were hundreds of colourful folks who had met here to be around those like them. It was weird, and strange, and he still wasn't so sure he'd made the right decisions coming here.
This was the Magic Kingdom. It just seemed like the best place to start. Though there were many options as to where he could have been, to get his first glances at this new home. But he never did well with choices. This just seemed right. Though wrong. Well part of it was right, this topic. Previous thoughts were wrong. To say those things felt wrong. It was empty and kind of creepy, that was wrong. Starting here at Magic Kingdom, this seemed right.
He could predict that once he actually went inside he'd see plenty of people. Perhaps. It was just strange and sort of off that it wasn't this big cheesy tourist trap it was always said to be. Not anymore, anyway. Slowly coming towards the entrance, one foot in front of the other, step by step, by hesitation, by step. Linguini's free hand rubbed at the collar of his open shirt. Under which was a long sleeve bottom layer that was only a slight contrast in colour to the top layer shirt. Neither were tucked in and the hem of his dark t-shirt was unfolded with hanging thread. This was a result of it getting caught on his luggage that he dragged with him on that same side of the body.
With luck he'd be able to open, well 'relocate', his restaurant to be open for the others who were here in this fantasy world. That was the plan. Well, dream. It was a possibility. Maybe...? Or not. These were details, important or not, that he hadn't organized, planned, or thought through too well. Stepping back suddenly he stared down at the wet clothes that damped his skin cold. At least he was inside now. He couldn't help but swallow the lump in his throat quite audibly. And even though this was nothing, staring at the traveling heads yards in front of him, and the tall sights that boarded up the sky line he thought out loud to himself, "I hope I know what I'm getting into."
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Do you like the site so far? That's why I joined :]
Anything you need us to know or any questions? I'd like to say my apologies for the length, as it probably means this won't be too quickly accepted for the time that it requires to be read. I felt that all the details were important for anyone who would be glancing over this to see all the sides of the character and not just from a movie. I also want to stay canon and at the same time I just expanded on the knowledge of the character, all that we can know, and really broadened up his past and him as a person.
Do you like the site so far? That's why I joined :]
Anything you need us to know or any questions? I'd like to say my apologies for the length, as it probably means this won't be too quickly accepted for the time that it requires to be read. I felt that all the details were important for anyone who would be glancing over this to see all the sides of the character and not just from a movie. I also want to stay canon and at the same time I just expanded on the knowledge of the character, all that we can know, and really broadened up his past and him as a person.