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♦ VALENTINE DOUGLAS KEATS ♦ VAL – — he’s amazing. absolutely full of himself, but amazing

Born Under the Temptation ••• Moises & Val

Despite the dedication that the Aeviternity required of him, life had been simply a game. Sleeping around, breaking hearts, testing waters – all these had simply been a part of it. They were enjoyment to the ride, the waves that kept the surfboard afloat. If he could handle going to work though he’d woken up in a bed that was not his own, then he was fine. If he could handle breaking another girl’s heart and living with it, then he was okay. There’d never been questions, disagreements. This was life! And it was the way it was! Moises Guerrero was to enjoy his life, even when others said that this was no way to live, even when others were getting their acts together and he was getting left behind. As far as he was concerned, he was okay. He had the Aeviternity. He had his causes, his reasons to fight. He was fine.

At thirty years, Moises’ life had come to the unknown routine of going to work, going to the bar, and going back home. At thirty years, his life had become some sort of a sim game in play. There was the waking up in the morning, the eating breakfast, the going to work. There was the doing what needed to be done, the doing what must be accomplished. Moises Guerrero’s life had never strayed from this – not when he was younger, and not now. Since he was but a mere fifteen year old, he’d known of his purpose with the Aeviternity! He’d known of what he must do, of his cause, of his actions to follow! He’d known – oh, he’d known – and he never strayed from the path set before him, if only because it was the only one he knew, the only one he cared about. This was what he was made for. This was what he was called to do.

This was what he knew how to do, and there’d never been questions about it. At least not until his best friend Peter announced his engagement to a girl he claimed was the love of his life.

If anyone asked Moises, the answer would be a stern no. If anyone brought any of the questions that ran through his mind, the answer would simply be that he did not think of such things, that he did not entertain such thoughts. If anyone at all – and anyone meant including Peter Park, best friend and confidant – asked what he was going to do with his life, Moises would answer the one answer he knew to say: the same thing he’d been doing. He would dedicate himself to the cause of the Aeviternity, sleep around because it so pleasured him, drink until the sun came up, and continue doing what he’d been doing all this time. As far as anyone was concerned, there was no question in him.

At least that was the case to anyone but him.

The questions did roam his head now. The questions of life and of the future and of whether this was all there was to it came upon him. It didn’t come upon him like a huge wave, though; it came in tiny bouts, in increasing order, bigger and bigger each time. Proof of this was the fact that now faced Moises: he was sitting alone by the counter of his usual bar instead of aiming to pick up girls like he usually did. Proof of this was the fact that now faced him: that he was sitting there, questioning himself and all that he’d ever done, and all that he’d ever continue to do, instead of doing all of these things.

Let it be known: Moises never thought of such things. He did not allow himself to go so far. But he thought now. He let himself go now. He let himself do what he never thought he’d do. ( And some would think it was about time, at the age of thirty. Others would think he was long past due. ) His clouded mind could not handle all of it, yet still, he thought. And, still, he ordered another shot of alcohol to help him think.

vallistics-blog

A person could only take so many episodes of reality television. They could only take so many sittings through America’s Got Talent; only so many episodes in which the pretty female judge with the obnoxious accent said “this was not the act for her” and only so many hours of watching people either be sent through to a second round, or sent home in tears. so many comments of “That was intriguing!” and “That was brilliant!” And, of course, there was only so long a man could stand listening to a restless dog whine about the lack of energy in the house. As if it was Valentine Keats’ problem! Really, it definitely was not his issue to deal with.

It wasn’t.

His problem was the way his thoughts overlooked all these aspects of the show, the show he normally loved watching. The way he avoided throwing a pillow at his screen every time one of the two accented judges would complain and say a perfectly decent act was not something she wished to see again. His heart wasn’t into the program, as it usually was - No, this time his heart was locked up, giving way to his brain. It was a funny exchange, this trade of consciousness. For a man who always did what his passion led him to do, Valentine Keats often found himself surrendering to the exact opposite.

Which was how he, somehow, wound up leaning against the counter of a bar he had never previously been to, talking to a bartender he had never even seen before, drinking the drinks he so often poured himself in his own home. It wasn’t as though something had happened to the bar in his penthouse - No, that was perfectly undamaged, and fully stocked. What was wrong with the setting was that it was too empty to properly sulk in his own self-critiquing. One needed to be sure that they were surrounded by people to remind themselves that they are not alone in this big city of Boston - well, at least that’s what Valentine needed the people for.

“Thank you,” he nodded, taking a glass of Grey Goose being handed to him by the stoic bartender. This man handling Val’s drinks was less amiable than he was accustomed to, and his gaze wandered to the end of the bar where a second tender stood. That one looked much happier. Sighing, Valentine dismissed the observation and finally let his gaze drift across the room as he turned to lean against the bar’s counter.

What a boring crowd.

It seemed the New Yorker hadn’t been the only one to drag his sorrows to a drinking establishment, and he almost laughed at the fact that so many in the room with him looked as though they had seen better days. But he didn’t. He respected their struggles as he respected his own, and he kept his mouth shut. To keep from letting a word slip, he refocused on his drink and turned to once more face the bar.

He almost made it, too. He almost turned all the way, to look at his unfriendly bartender. That wouldn’t have been a very nice view, he thought, but all faces were pretty faces to a man who was already verging the line between sober and completely wrecked. One wouldn’t assume this of Valentine Keats, if they saw him cut his turn short once his eyes landed on a man sitting to his right. One would not have guessed that Valentine Keats was already bordering the line between rational decisions and actions from a whim. Not with the way he perked up so steadily at the sight of a face even more appealing than the worker’s (well, perhaps not face - more like profile), his shoulders straightened and head lifted to display more confidence than should have ever been possible. A confidence that traced the edge of pure arrogance.

“You look like the point in the movie where the guy realizes that everything before that exact moment has been wrong,” he mused, the ghost of a smirk painting his expression as he moved closer to the man that looked as though the weight of the world could have been treating him a bit more delicately.

And Valentine Keats really was drunk at this point, it was clear as day. You see…he so rarely made a point of aiming that specific smirk at another man.

#p #p: moises guerrero #para: born under the temptation #alcohol tw

#ooc #to do list

ceadless

Tipsy Turtles • Lucy & Val

“Solo un po ‘più vicino…” she muttered as she neared the small creatures, chewing on her bottom lip as she scooped one of them up into her hand and quickly purified the water around the rest of them with the other. Weren’t they supposed to be sluggish little things? How were they swimming so quickly into danger? Didn’t they know what was happening?

She almost wished that her powers went beyond that of simply cleansing the water around them and could actually begin communicating with them. It’d be much easier to alert them of the dangers ahead had she been able to do that. Ah, well at least this way it would be –

“Oh no, piccola tartaruga,” she cried out as the lone turtle she rescued promptly kicked himself off of her hand and splashed back into the water. She attempted to plunge in after him, but caught herself on the edge of the pier and settled for dangling most of her forearms into the water. She pouted gently at the retreating creature, moving to swirl her arms and begin cleaning the muck closest to her. If they weren’t going to listen to her, then she’d just have to hurry and purify the water around the dock. She still had plenty of time since it was the middle of the night, but she had to be cautious – anyone who came down far enough would surely see her and think she was doing something suspicious.

“Can you please.. er.. stay in one place? This will be done sooner if you could, please. We do not want you being in .. what you call.. the dirty,” she replied in her best English to the reunited family who continued on their way towards the waste. Maybe they hadn’t understood with her being Italian, but she had a funny feeling that had nothing to do with it. “.. Please?”

vallistics-blog

The hiss was what finally broke Valentine’s slowly dwindling patience.

“Will you shut up already, you ridiculous weasel?!” The exclamation was delivered in a heated whisper as Valentine jerked his head to nudge the small creature perched across his shoulders. The movement shifted his footsteps to the side, and he was met with a following complaint from his mink.

( I’m a mink, not a weasel! ) The statement could have only been heard as a chorus of chatter from the furred companion, had it been any other person listening to the animal’s vocalizations. But her handler had abilities that allowed him further understanding of her points, and it merely received a vaguely irritated sigh. Normally, Valentine loved animals. He absolutely adored them, and was ecstatic at the fact that he could communicate with them. But with his current friend, there was never a time in which Valentine didn’t wish he could somehow put this rodent on mute.

“Part of the weasel family, you absolute block of cheese,” the human retorted, a spark of laughter leaving his lips and flitting into the biting night air. “You really can be thick, Rocky. It’s amazing how you even managed to realize you’d be able to help me with this.” The teasing was spoken out loud, and as though Valentine was directing it to a close friend and not…a weasel. This was the case, however. Rocky was a close friend; someone Valentine knew he could depend on despite the constant bickering. The small semi-aquatic animal had grown on her zookeeper, which was the exact reason why she had been the one Valentine agreed on bringing along to the harbor.

( Well you didn’t realize it at all until I brought it up, so who’s the block of cheese between the two of us? ) The mink had a point, and Val knew it. He kept quiet, which was normally how he would have seemed had he conversed with his animal in public. But, being alone, Valentine took the chance to use his voice. He knew the critter would believe herself victorious at his lack of speech following her statement, but really…the human had nothing else to say to this monster.

He distracted himself from the bag on his shoulder by focusing on the animals surrounding them as they made their way down the dock, which was, as he soon realized, a grave mistake. The surrounding animals were all either panicked, boiling angry, or as confused as a dog that caught its own tail. The dark sky above his head made it difficult to see where the calls of these creatures came from, but he could tell that they surrounded him. The previously light air to his steps quickly diminished as the cries and calls filled his ears, bringing his footsteps to a halt as they got louder than he could bear. At that point, as he stood on the docks, trying to keep from covering his ears, what had been understandable pleas for help became indistinct noises in his head.

He had heard of the spill, which was why he had broken away from his usual day to seek out his mink so she could help him aid the harbor animals. But he hadn’t realized just how many animals needed his help. The sound of them became a dull buzz to his hearing, so overwhelming that its volume decreased to a steady drone. A steady drone that was nearly deafening.

Had he not been so set on helping these poor creatures - so set on somehow getting them to safety - he would have left. The disturbance from the surrounding noise, getting increasingly similar to white noise, was giving him a headache. A large one.

After a moment of standing, Valentine finally managed to filter out the unnecessary static, and slowly continued his movements down the harbor. The jumbled sounds remained in his hearing, though they were similar to background noise. What caught his attention as he neared the end of the docks was a voice, an actual voice belonging to a person, pleading with someone. In an attempt to clarify this voice, Val shushed. He shushed the animals around him and, unknown to him in the immediate moment, the white noise ceased.

As he reached the end of the dock, he spotted a woman reaching into the water. Why she would be doing so, he had no idea. But he did know that she was attempting to communicate with a small bale of turtles. “You know, they respond better to a calmer tone,” he called, without thinking, as he felt Rocky scurry down his arm and along the wooden surface, slinking into the shadows at the revelation of a stranger.

#p #p: luciana de luca #para: tipsy turtles #y do u insist on making me write #jk ily #im cryin val gave a mink the silent treatment

xcthcrcal-deactivated20150719

peace frog || alice && val ;

Praise the Gods above, her shift was finally over. Tonight had been extra tiresome night considering the selfless brunette had so kindly covered her coworker’s shift. A few extra hours of helping others didn’t seem so bad, but goodness gracious how wrong she had been to think that. The continuous buzzing of bedridden patients had her running up and down the white halls of the hospital, causing her to be a lot more tired than she normally would be. The woman had bags under her eyes from how sleepy she was, but sleep was for the weak and there were patients to be taken care of. Whether it was because they were hungry, uncomfortable or just wanted company, by the time it was six in the morning, Alice was already burned out and weak in the knees.

Walking down the semi-empty hall in blue scrubs, white sneakers and her hair tied up, Alice couldn’t help but notice there was shouting at the end of the hall. Why was there shouting and why on Earth hadn’t any of the nurses gone to check what was going on? Her shift was finally over, she was practically dragging her feet from how dead she felt, but helping one last person before heading home wouldn’t hurt so much. Turning around and walking towards the direction of the argument, Alice wasn’t completely shocked to see old man Jenkins shouting at an innocent individual for whatever terrible reason they had. Then again, she didn’t know what had happened, but it was safe to assume the older man was overreacting. Jenkins yelling at strangers was nothing short of a surprise, even she knew not to pay much attention to the cranky old man.

“Oh, Mr. Jenkins! Goodness gracious, stop it. Why are you out of bed?”

She says in her best nurse voice, kind and patient as she steps in between the two individuals. She offers the person they were shouting at an apologetic smile as she carefully directs them away from the senile old man. Once they were far away from one another, Alice walks back to the man and carefully links her arms with his to walk him back into his room. An exchange of not so silent murmurs are heard as they walk away, mostly in his part as a way to justify his anger. With a hum of shallow agreement, Alice closes the door behind her to put the man back to bed. After a minute or two, she exits the room and allows a sigh to escape her lips.

“Agh, I’m so sorry.. He’s.. well, he’s old. Are you alright?”

vallistics-blog

His intentions hadn’t been to upset anyone. They had been the complete opposite, in fact! All Val had planned on doing was walk into the building, talk over a deal with those who ran it, and then leave the building. It was his luck, however, that he couldn’t be like Elvis. He hadn’t left the building- he hadn’t even been able to find any point of authority to speak to about his next charity movement because he had gotten lost. So really, it wasn’t as though he wanted to make his leave at that exact point in time. He just wanted to get away from this man yelling nonsense about recognition at him.

“Sir- Sir, I told you! I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Valentine offered in exchange for the old man’s ranting. He was calm in the situation, though the first thing he wanted to do as soon as he broke free was immediately laugh about the scenario. There was no reason to irritate the man any further, however, so Val decided it was best to take another attempt at warding off his assailant’s verbal attack. “I’m sorry if I did anything wrong, but I really have to go.”

It was exactly then, after Val’s last futile defense against the old man, that a nurse came to his rescue. He couldn’t have bee any more obvious in his relief as he sighed out a quick thank you and pushed his hand through his hair, shifting golden locks away from his face. As soon as the kind nurse was back out in the hall, Valentine slipped into an explanation, relaxed smile replacing the weary expression on his face before it could be seen.

“No apology needed. I’m good. I’m here looking to talk about a business transaction and I got lost on my way around. He saw me walking down the hall and recognized me from his television I think,” he said this part as if it were entirely normal for the old man to have known his face. “And started telling me that people didn’t end up stealing a zoo that often back in his day - whenever that was. I told him I had no idea what he was talking about and then he started going on about Dartmoor Zoo.”

#p #p: alice kyle-simmons #para: peace frog #hope you dont mind i replied to this!!#hello~#this is valentine he's kind of famous and kind of full of himself bc of it haha #love him pls

lindevi

Breaking News: Local Aeviternity Rally

“Thanks,” Sinead smiled, handing the bartender her card to start a tab. Thank god for beer, she thought, bringing the pint to her lips and enjoying the strength of a Belgian quadrupel. She checked her phone despite knowing it wasn’t blinking, and then set it on the counter in front of her. With a sigh, she threaded a hand through her long red hair and took another sip before looking around the bar.

A mix of Celtics and Red Sox paraphernalia, the usual vintage Fenway photographs and World Series memorial plaques. Unfamiliar faces—some friendly, others less so. Just relax, she told herself. You’re off the clock, for as long as that lasts, anyway. She wasn’t technically on call the way her lieutenant was, but if there was a major break in one of her cases, they’d file the overtime paperwork to get her in.

She peered up at the televisions across the bar. The Sox were down to the Astros, and she hoped they’d pull ahead before the last inning. But the local news station intrigued her more.

Protesters chanted, waving signs: “Get off our streets!” and “God hates Metas!” and “Registration NOW!”. An Aeviternity rally, in Rose Kennedy Greenway? The diversity of the crowd struck her. If there was one thing humans could unite over, this would be it. She wondered if the national stations would start carrying the story soon.

The camera panned across to a BPD cop facing off against an angry protester, and Sinead felt a twinge of anger and worry for her colleagues. If she’d still been on her beat, she’d probably have been there, too. Hopefully the protests wouldn’t turn violent.

She drank a little more, and set the mug back down. “What do you think?” she asked the patron to her right, gesturing to the screen.

vallistics-blog

The chatter of the bar reached Valentine’s ears even as he sent his mind outside the establishment’s walls, in search of an animal to focus on. Of course he would still be able to hear it. What was he thinking? Bars were bars. If he truly had wanted peace, he could have remained in his home. His cold, empty residence.

A quiet huff escaped him as he hunched forward, hair mostly hidden by a white beanie as he kept his head ducked, blue gaze remaining on the wooden counter in front of him. He didn’t dare look around the bar, not willing to risk someone recognizing his face. The bartender already had, and they had thankfully realized that attention was the last thing he wanted...surprisingly. Valentine was no stranger to needing large quantities of spotlight, but some people mistook this for wanting it all hours of the day. This was no such case for the blond tapping his fingers against an untouched glass of bourbon.

He had managed to sneak away from his assistant and her prattling about his business (as if he didn’t already know he had more plans than an architect), in search of a much needed break from the week’s wave of tasks and plans. Now he sat in this bar, unaware of the various screens playing different programs around him. It wasn’t until the woman next to him spoke that he lifted his head and glanced from her to the screen, brow immediately furrowing as he caught the words “The crowd has really gotten wild as we can see in this shot!”. His eyes scanned the screen as he watched a group of peaceful protesters be shoved back by police batons, and his grip subtly tightened around his glass.

Despite the sudden rush of bewilderment that met him, he returned his glance to the woman and gave her a slight nod in replace of the unspoken hello. “It’s fuckin’ shit, that’s what I think,” he said, the words unusual on his tongue. He wasn’t accustomed to speaking to people during a period of his bad days. “They’re rallying for nothing, and— And those protesters haven’t even been...rowdy or anything, yet they’re being treated like r— ” rats. He almost said rats. A quick cover saved him and he shook his head. “Rubbish! This is going to end up in some huge crisis, and that’s going to end up hurting our environment! We’ll be living in smog and radiation!” Breaking his miniature rant, Valentine lifted his glass to his lips and downed the liquor in one go, ignoring the sting of it all rushing down his throat. As soon as it was gone, he set the empty glass back on the counter (it landed with a thud louder than it should have), and he gave a slight hiss. “That’s what I think,” his tone, which had gradually grown in intensity as he spoke, returned to its initial calmness as he ducked his head again.

That outburst definitely had not been planned.

#p #p: sinead kelley #para: aeviternity rally #hello!!#alcohol tw

BACKGROUND QUESTIONS: CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT SHEET #2

WHO ARE/WERE THEIR PARENTS: Heidi and Rodney Sullivan Keats (Sr.) Both deceased.

DID THEY LIVE WITH THEIR PARENTS? IF NOT, WHO WERE THE PEOPLE WHO RAISED THEM? DESCRIBE THOSE PEOPLE: Valentine grew up with his parents and was raised under a loving, albeit preoccupied, pair of hands. After his father passed of health problems and his mother of an accident, he was taken under the wing of his elder siblings Rodney and Landon, the twins of the family.

WHAT DID THEIR PARENT OR GUARDIAN DO FOR A LIVING?: His mother Heidi was a fashion designer and consultant for a small company run by her sister, and his father was a Police Chief.

DID THEY GET ALONG WITH THEIR PARENT(S)/GUARDIANS(?): Fairly well, yes. Out of six children, Valentine never got the best chances to bond one-on-one with his parents. Though there were often times the family would spend together, in which Valentine found the opportunities to keep close to his parents.

SIBLING(S): Rodney Sullivan “Sully” Keats Jr. and Landon Aria Keats (37, twins), Heiden Asher Keats (33), Gabriella “Sunshine” Keats (28), Tobias “Tobi” Mallory Keats (20)

DID THEY GET ALONG WITH THEIR SIBLING(S)?: Yes, for the most part. Sully never agreed with Val’s plans of starting his own business, and was extremely displeased when Valentine took after their brother and decided to travel. Heiden always had been a role-model to Valentine, and the blond wished from an early age to be as interesting as his older sibling. Landon and Sunshine both strongly supported Valentine’s dreams, and it often led to disagreements between Sunshine and Sully, two of the three more stubborn people in the family (the third being Heiden). Valentine and his younger siblings Sunshine and Tobi share a connection stronger than with the older three, but it is often disturbed by the distance buffering them.

ETHNICITY: Caucasian (English and Australian)

WHAT LANGUAGE(S) DID THEY GROW UP SPEAKING?: English

RELATIONSHIP WITH THEIR FAMILY: The Keats family is already big enough, not including the vast number of siblings their own parents had. Valentine himself was exceptionally sociable when it came to family gatherings, and enjoyed them. He is close to a large number of his cousins and grew up as close to them as he was with his siblings. A few of his aunts and uncles are more close-minded than he likes, but most of them are on his good side and he on theirs.

DESCRIBE THEIR PARENT(S)/GUARDIAN (S) OPINION OF THEM: Valentine’s parents were extremely proud of how ambitious their son had become, though Sully wasn’t exactly on the same boat. Being the natural worrier of the family, there were many times in which he attempted to pull Val back to Earth and ask when he would get real about his life. Currently, Sully is reluctant to say that he is proud of his younger brother - but everyone knows that he is.

DO THEY KEEP IN TOUCH WITH THEIR FAMILY MEMBERS?: Yes, Valentine tries to speak to his siblings as often as he can. With Sully and Landon taking after their father and becoming police officers together, Heiden being so busy with his career as a professor and a summer journalist, Sunshine being so occupied with her job as a registered nurse, and Tobi studying at NYU, it’s often difficult to maneuver around such busy schedules. But a group as tightly knit as this one can’t keep quiet to each other for very long.

WHAT SOCIAL CLASS WERE THEY BORN INTO?: Upper Middle-class.

WHAT IS THE NAME OF THEIR HOMETOWN?: Queens borough, New York, New York.

WHAT TYPE OF HOME DID THEY LIVE IN?: A penthouse with a view of the Charles River, right by the Harbor.

#safeactivities2 #death tw #not really mentioned but u know #to be safe #headcanon #task

#ooc

fuckyeah-char-dev

type three: the achiever

type three THE ACHIEVER

➜ HEALTHY - Self-assured and energetic, with high self-esteem: they believe in themselves and their own value. Adaptable, desirable, often physically attractive and popular. Ambitious to improve themselves, to be “the best they can be” — often become outstanding, a human ideal, embodying widely admired cultural qualities. Others are motivated to be like them in some positive way.

AT THEIR BEST - Self-accepting, inner-directed, and authentic, everything they seem to be. Modest and charitable, self-deprecatory sense of humor and a fullness of heart emerge. Gentle and benevolent

➜ AVERAGE - Highly concerned with their performance, doing their job well, being superior, and rising above others. Compare self with others in search for status and success. Become careerists, social climbers, invested in exclusivity and being a “winner.” Become image-conscious, highly concerned with how they are perceived. Begin to package themselves according to the expectations of others and what they need to do to be successful. Pragmatic and efficient, but also premeditated, losing touch with their own feelings beneath a smooth façade. Problems with intimacy, credibility, and “phoniness” emerge. Want to impress others with their superiority: constantly promoting themselves, making themselves sound better than they really are. Narcissistic, with grandiose, inflated notions about themselves and their talents. Exhibitionistic and seductive, as if saying “Look at me!” Arrogance and contempt for others is a defence against feeling jealous of others and their success.

➜ UNHEALTHY - Fearing failure and humiliation, they can be exploitative and opportunistic, covetous of the success of others, and willing to do “whatever it takes” to preserve the illusion of their superiority. Devious and deceptive so that their mistakes and wrong-doings will not be exposed. Untrustworthy, maliciously betraying or sabotaging people to triumph over them. Delusionally jealous of others. Become vindictive, attempting to ruin others’ happiness. Relentless, obsessive about destroying whatever reminds them of their own shortcomings and failures. Psychopathic.

Keep reading

#enneagram #headcanon

fuckyeah-char-dev

chaotic good

Chaotic Good is known as the “Beatific,” “Rebel,” or “Cynic” alignment. A Chaotic Good character favors change for a greater good, disdains bureaucratic organizations that get in the way of social improvement, and places a high value on personal freedom, not only for oneself, but for others as well. They always intend to do the right thing, but their methods are generally disorganized and often out of alignment with the rest of society. They may create conflict in a team if they feel they are being pushed around, and often view extensive organization and planning as pointless, preferring to improvise. While they do not have evil intentions, they may do bad things (even though they will not enjoy doing these things) to people who are, in their opinion, bad people, if it benefits the greater good. Chaotic good is the best alignment you can be because it combines a good heart with a free spirit. Chaotic good can be a dangerous alignment because it disrupts the order of society and punishes those who do well for themselves.

TRAIT STRUCTURE

unpredictable.

independent.

free spirited.

cheerful.

optimistic.

easy going.

carefree.

helpful.

kind.

merciful.

respectful of personal liberties.

anarchistic.

#moral alignment #headcanon

fuckyeah-char-dev

ENTP: the Originator

ENTPs are logical, innovative, curious and downright inventive. They see possibilities for improvement everywhere and possess the ability to understand complex concepts. ENTPs are introspective and carefree nonconformists. They often neglect the more common areas of life while pursuing new solutions. ENTPs can be good conversationalists and exciting company.

STRENGTHS

Enthusiastic, upbeat, and popular.

Can be very charming.

Excellent communication skills.

Extremely interested in self-improvement and growth in their relationships.

Laid-back and flexible, usually easy to get along with.

Big idea-people, always working on a grand scheme or idea.

Usually good at making money, although not so good at managing it.

Take their commitments and relationships very seriously.

Able to move on with their lives after leaving a relationship.

WEAKNESSES

Always excited by anything new, they may change partners frequently.