thesquiggles: ((baccano!) marry me.)
squigs ([personal profile] thesquiggles) wrote2015-10-29 09:11 pm

[community profile] maskormenace Application | Firo Prochainezo

NAME: Squigs
AGE: 21
JOURNAL: thesquiggles
IM / EMAIL: n/a
PLURK: squigstuff

CHARACTER NAME: Firo Prochainezo
CHARACTER AGE: 22 (physically, eternally 18 and immortal)
SERIES: Baccano! (light novels)
CHRONOLOGY: the end of 1934 - Peter Pan in Chains (after returning from Alcatraz prison)
CLASS: antihero
HOUSING: please randomly place him! He'll move out pretty quick, but I want him to be in one to begin.

BACKGROUND: history write-up / wiki

Firo Prochainezo is a camorrista of a small-scale camorra family in Manhattan, New York, called the Martillos. As an executive, he was put in charge of running one of their (illegal) casinos and spends his days managing the joint and keeping his eyes peeled for anybody who might dare to cheat at their games. He gets along with his Family members, and he has a couple of roommates who are not gangsters but still friends with the Martillos as well. One of them just so happens to be the woman he has a mad crush on, but it'll take another half-century before they marry. But that's all right; fifty years is nothing, because Firo and Ennis and Czeslaw and the others of the Family also happen to be immortal.

Firo is the so-called protagonist of the Baccano series. Though he doesn't show up in every single novel, he shows up the most of all characters and acts as a narrator in many scenes. In the long, never-ending saga, Firo often has his everyday life interrupted by the arrival of new chaotic friends, getting dragged into misadventures with terrorists, getting teased by his friends, and going in circles trying to advance his relationship with Ennis but always getting thrown off by his own embarrassment and her complete cluelessness. Sometimes, like in the first novel of the series, Firo saves a man on a whim, then steals his booze when he wasn't grateful enough, and ends up turning all his buddies immortal because that stolen booze happened to be an alchemist's panacea. Sometimes he's just waiting on friends to arrive on a cross-continental railroad. Other times, he really just wants to hold Ennis' hand.

Firo Prochainezo is a man of simple needs.

As a rule, he prefers and deliberately makes an effort to live his life without complications. Rather than overthink the whys and hows of his life and dive too deeply into talks about philosophies and psychologies, he’d rather live simply, accepting things at face value and worrying more about the important things. Growing up in the New York slums of the early 1900s without family or income, every day was a struggle and his childhood dream was to survive like the jolly Italian men he glimpsed in movies. As long as he has his friends by his side and every day is enjoyable, Firo has no need or greed for anything else.

On the other hand, he will do absolutely anything to hold on to what he has and holds dear. He’s endlessly loyal to the Martillos, the camorra family that he is a part of, and at the core of every decision that he makes is the single, most important question: Will this action of mine bring glory or harm to my Family? There is nothing Firo wouldn’t do for the sake of his Family, as well as his family — Ennis and Czeslaw, who aren’t members of the camorra but his precious roommates. If it’s for their safety, he’ll even cooperate with the government and allow himself to be arrested, and he’ll even discard his own personal honor and commit crimes even he finds despicable. Even if he weren’t immortal — not that he even remembers this fact most of the time — he would not hesitate for a moment to lay down his life to save that of someone who has his loyalty.

When it comes to immortality, he honestly doesn’t get it. He actually has a plethora of knowledge about it from devouring Szilard, but he’d never given deep thought to the concept of dying before, so he fails to grasp the enormity of what it means to have escaped it — for eternity, no less. At the same time, he sees no need to dwell on it, so his biggest opinion on his now immortal body is that he now doesn’t have to worry about getting killed, which surely, should be advantageous for somebody who lives a life of crime. Even then, that doesn’t stop him from being wary when put into uncertain situations, and Ladd the lunatic murder-addict comments that despite being immortal, Firo has the eyes of a man who expects to get killed at any moment.

Simple as he may act, however, Firo isn’t entirely thoughtless. He just has a clear idea of who he is and what he values and doesn’t waste time second-guessing them. He has actually given thought to those values of his, and he sometimes reflects on them and muses on the irony of a scum-of-society gangster having standards.

Having grown up as an underdog, Firo despises people who wields their power selfishly without regard for those below them. He has no hesitations about exploiting or overpowering people if they have the opportunity to fight back, but scums like Szilard who used powerless people like disposable napkins to satisfy his greed are, to him, the lowest of the low. In the same vein, he abhors the idea of taking hostages, and the only time that he even threatened to do so was when Liza Laforet tried to take the Martillo family as hostages in order to get him to cooperate. He also thinks men who make moves on women are the worst, which has its own backstory, and that is the reason why he does not get to marry Ennis until he’s 68, and why he’s already 88 years old by the time the two of them even go on their honeymoon.

But even the self-assured, confident Firo Prochainezo has doubts. While the concept of living forever and not dying doesn’t bother him in the slightest, what does bother him, more than he can ever admit, is the existence of Szilard Quates’ memories inside of him. “Creeped out” is an understatement when it comes to how he feels when, out of the blue, he remembers things that are not a part of his memories but of somebody else’s, preserved in his mind as a part of himself because the men who were devoured by Szilard are now inside of him. The extensive knowledge and understanding of immortality makes him worry all the more about being influenced by Szilard’s memories and becoming more like him. Can personality traits also be inherited? Every time the thought crosses his mind, he forces it back down and tries to ignore the anxiety. So worried that he would come to find pleasure in other’s suffering like Szilard did, he once “experiments” by doing something mean to a couple of his friends and feels terrible immediately after.

Immortality: As an immortal in the world of Baccano, Firo is incapable of staying dead, and he's also incapable of aging. It's completely possible to kill him, but whether you shoot him or burn him or rip his body to shreds and throw the pieces into the ocean, unless you're somehow able to keep said body parts tied down and unable to escape, they will animate and try to come back together around the head. It also comes with more features such as being able to share information and killing other immortals through a hand-vacuum™, but that's only possible between similar immortals.

Dominos: Much to his dismay, Firo's pockets are going to be producing dominos whether he likes it or not. They're not going to be overflowing, but if he sticks in hands in at any point, whether he changes his pants every second of every day he's going to be finding at least one domino piece at his fingertips. Great. But there's one thing they can be useful to him for, too: if he throws them hard enough, they'll explode upon contact in a cloud of charcoal dust and pepper. A taste of home...?

I have an old as balls TDM here.

[Firo Prochainezo did not want to use this phone. (This is a phone?) He was all for trying out new, bizarre things as long as they didn't require too much brain power, and this one was all right in that sense (at least everything was labeled), but he did not want to use something given to him by the government. Why the hell would he? He wasn't cooperating! He went through enough because of the feds last time, and this time there was nothing they could threaten him with. There was absolutely no reason for him to work for them, and he didn't want to use this machine that they gave him, either.

But he couldn't help it. He was curious. And the damn things were too expensive to buy on his own just to try out.

Ugh, whatever, right? It's not like he's registering yet. Ever.

He'd sulked around for weeks. He didn't like asking for help from strangers, and in this world, everybody was a stranger, from the people he had to work with to the guy who was in the house he didn't actually live in (government housing, the worst), but he's homesick. He's miserable. And he's only curious about this phone, really, and he might as well ask since he's at it, right? To nobody in particular...]

isthere a good chinese place around here any city is fine

[... How the hell do you use the question mark on this?!]

He sucks in as much air as his lungs could hold, and when he sighs it out, he releases the tension in his muscles too. His closed eyes slowly open, and his mind is calm as he takes in his surroundings. The people around him are tough and smelly, most of them dressed in tattered clothes and covered in dirt and blood and sweat. A lot of them have their hands wrapped, protecting their knuckles, and some sneer down at him and his button-up, asking if he hadn't gotten lost in the wrong neighborhood.

One of them nearby calls to ask who let a pretty-face schoolgirl join the club and Firo calmly decides that he'll challenge him first. Beat that stupid face in and take some money while he's at it. He's still new, so fighting out of line wouldn't make this any easier, anyway. He wasn't going to take the government's stupid money, and he wasn't interested in civilian jobs. And he wasn't about to go running to some other family, either. Even if they weren't anti-imPorts it was just out of the question. He'd rather cut himself up and have melted silver poured on the pieces than do that.

He'll do what he needed to get back to New York. His New York. But he didn't need to be the government's dog again for that, and he wasn't about to start playing house with these strangers. In the meanwhile, he still needed to earn money. Finding this underground fighting ring was convenient as hell; it's not like he had to worry about any of these injuries sticking, so he could come back to every fight at the top of his game. Not that he'll tell them. Yet.

Aah, the ring is free. Someone's calling to let the newbie -- they're talking about him, he supposes -- have a turn. When he send the big guy who called him girly a look, the oaf sneers again and rises to his feet to lumber to the ring. How convenient. Firo shrugs his jacket off his shoulders and rolls up his sleeves, stepping forward as well.

"I'll show you," he says nonchalantly, throwing the idiot a friendly but cold, cold smile. "You'll be regrettin' what you called me just now, big guy. You want a handicap?"