Irving, Jordan Charles

[Jordan Charles Irving]

JORDAN CHARLES IRVING

FULL NAME: Jordan Charles Irving
NICKNAMES: Jay, Jordy
AGE: twenty nine
GENDER: male
SEXUALITY: Straight
STATUS: Single
GROUP: Citizen
GRADE: N/A
MAJOR: N/A.
JOB OCCUPATION: Professional poker player and owns an architecture firm

HAIR: Short, occasionally choppy and varying shades brown hair.
EYES: Blue.
SCARS/BIRTHMARKS: None he remembers the stories behind.
TATTOOS: None.
PIERCINGS: None.
PLAY-BY: Tom Hiddleston! <3

LIKES: Charity work, cars, strong coffee, card games, cold pizza, cleaning, a cold beer, intelligent women, a good fight, his insomnia, green grapes, classic novels, night clubs, pulling all-nighters, sour key candies, the rain, yelling at people, winning, beating the odds, music, pretty girls, feisty women, sitting in front of a fire, puzzles, whiskey, billiards.
DISLIKES: cold coffee, sleeping through the night, thinking about “home”, books turned to movies, soap operas, guns, ignorant people, someone not rising to the bait, falling asleep on the couch, swimming, oatmeal cookies, crime shows, leaky faucets, tofu, vodka, seafood.
FEARS: heights, settling down, pissing off the wrong person (doesn’t stop him thought)
SECRETS: At twenty one, Jordan changed his name from Marten to mat that of Harris; Irving.
PERSONALITY: Jordan is an arrogant asshole these days; plain and simple. He brings it completely on himself though, and laughs when he gets the reaction he wants. He’s a fighter, ready to throw a punch for any reason at all. While he baits people to get in his face, he rarely rises to the challenges thrown his way, unless it’s a bet. That’ll get him every single time. Jordan is a confident man and terribly conniving, but in his line of work, he has to be and keep clear-headed to use that intelligence he hides well to think about his next moves before he plays them. Despite his misgivings, this often scary, serious looking man has a heart of gold; it’s just buried down real deep. And it only shows itself for the kids and the charitable work he does for them. He’s often temperamental, turning his emotions on and off like a flick of a switch. One minute he’s laidback, carefree and so easy-going that it’s difficult to believe he’s the same person who’ll throw a punch because he overheard something he didn’t like. He’s an imsomniac who spends those sleepless nights either hunting down a card game in the city or going through the office paperwork that needs his John Hancock. And when he’s out, looking for a good time, he’s a huge flirt and so charming. You won’t hear those same, old tired lines pass his lips. He isn’t exactly distrustful but he doesn’t trust too many people either. This brazen man is just looking for someone he can trust completely and share his life with; even if he isn’t sure he’d be any good with monogamy!

MOTHER: Unknown
FATHER: Unknown
SIBLINGS: None.
OTHERS: Harris Irving, deceased at sixty-two.
PETS: Bear, Husky/German shepherd mix and Oskar, cat!
HOMETOWN: Brooklyn, New York.
HISTORY: The beginning of Jordan’s life is as blank as the pages of a new sketchbook. Jordan was left at the fire station with a note that said “Take care of him”, with his full name and date of birth; nothing more. The guys around the station couldn’t figure out why or how a parent could just give up their two month old son so easily but there Jordan was. It was a Saturday night when it all happened so the guys took care of this small baby until Monday morning when the childrens protective services office opened for proper hours, even though they could have called the night he showed up. Of course, Jordan didn’t know any of this and was never told either. As far as he knows, his life started at three, his earliest memory. He’d never been adopted, but he did go through a dozen foster homes before he was twelve and decided it was time to move on. Through all those years, nothing ever really happened. He was alone in a house full of people and then one night, he left and never went back.

He was on the streets for only two weeks, stealing food to survive and sleeping in dirty alleys, hidden away well. One night, he’d been getting his little hiding spot ready for him to bunker down for the night when a door beside him opened. It had scared the living hell our of him and the noise he’d made alerted the guy who’d caused the scare to him. Instantly he was mad at Jordan for running away from home; assuming he’d had a home and a family that must have been worried sick about him. He’d grabbed Jordan’s arm, wholly intending to return the child to his home when Jordan finally found the words to tell him there was no one looking for him. Instead of his original plan, the man introduced himself to Jordan and took him to an all night diner down the block where Jordan had his first hot meal in weeks. He devoured everything on his plate while Harris sat back with a coffee and watched. He was an architect with a penchant for gambling; especially at the poker tables.

His wife had died of cancer several years beforehand and the house was too quiet with just him and the dogs, Shakespeare and Voltaire. So he made a fairly one-sided deal. Jordan could live with him, he would take care of everything and all Jordan had to do was a small list of chores and go to school everyday; he wasn’t allowed to miss a day unless he was sick. Obviously, Jordan was skeptical but the idea of a warm bed and a hot shower, clean clothes was hard to pass up. Still, he was going to until the waitress that had been serving them told him he could trust Harris, that she’d known him a long time and that he was a good man; he was just lonely. While Harris had been off to the washroom, Melissa, the waitress, told Jordan Harris’ life story and that sealed it for the twelve year old boy. They were the same; they both needed another person in their lives. So Jordan agreed.

Harris paid for Jordan to attend an exceptional private school, paid for tutors and filled the house with video games and the like when the latest came out. He provided Jordan with a life he could have only dreamed of before that night. Jordan made friends, had girlfriends and did the usual teenage things through the following years by day and by night was up, restless. At first, he spent those hours doing his homework and the chores he’d been given. Harris had noticed of course, but he’d thought it was just because it was a new place. When it continued for three months with Jordan getting little to no sleep at all for days on end, Harris took him to the doctors who diagnosed Jordan with insomnia. She prescribed medication but they left Jordan drowsy the next day; zombie like and that just wouldn’t do.

So Harris offered to teach Jordan how to play pool and poker. He himself was quite skilled with a cue stick thanks to the training he’d had with his job. Poker, however was another tale. He wasn’t the greatest poker player around, it was obvious to Jordan why as well. The man had no poker face. Jordan had an excellent one though, years of lying to everyone around him gave him the ability. He quickly surpassed Harris in skill and when Jordan turned eighteen, Harris took him to one of the underground poker games he frequented. A few hours later, the pair walked out of the building flush. Harris had doubled his money, surprisingly enough but Jordan made twice that. And he continued that streak to every place they went. Turned out, Harris was a good teacher and Jordan had an innate skill at reading people. He didn’t so much get cocky as he got arrogant with his skill. He felt unstoppable and those traits started to show themselves in other parts of his life as well.

When he was old enough, Jordan entered a tournament that was on the up and up; a proper, professional tournament. He won it all and he started making a name for himself. Harris couldn’t have been happier for the boy he’d taken in. But Harris was hiding something from Jordan. He’d grown to love the boy as though he were his son and in a way he was. So he was having a hard time telling Jordan the truth; he was sick. A man who’d never touched a cigarette in his life had lung cancer. And it was too far advanced to get rid of it. It was official; he was a lost cause. All the while, Jordan was oblivious to this, he just kept playing poker all over the world.

He came home from a tournament overseas earlier than planned and excited to tell Harris about the game but as the taxi pulled up to the brownstone, Jordan watching disbelieving as paramedics took Harris out of their home on a stretcher. On auto-pilot, Jordan tossed money at the driver, grabbed his small and thankfully only bag and ran from the car, tripping over his feet on the way. The cop that was there tried holding him back but Jordan yelled that was his dad and the cop let him through reluctantly. The paramedics filled him in on the way to hospital and that was how Jordan finally found out. When Harris woke up in hospital some time later, Jordan was right there, his eyes red and puffy from crying. He’d found a home and now the only person to ever care about him wasn’t going to make it a week. Harris told Jordan everything; how he was so proud of Jordan that he didn’t want to burst his bubble with the news. He told him how he’d spoken to the lawyer and upon his death, everything Harris owned went to Jordan; how secretly, he’d gone and properly adopted Jordan when he’d been fourteen because he’d wanted the boy to have a future and a family. He revealed how he tried in vain to find his biological parents but came up empty. He told him about the savings account set up for college or university whenever he was ready. And finally, he told him not to cry because he was finally going to be with his wife again and how much she would have loved Jordan.

Jordan spent the next four days, three hours and fifty-two minutes in hospital next to Harris’ bedside, only going home long enough to shower, change and feed the dogs. All the while Jordan’s girlfriend at the time got increasingly annoyed that he wasn’t paying her any attention. He finally gave into the building grief and yelled at her to go away; he never wanted to see her ever again. Jordan buried Harris three days later, next to his wife. The following September Jordan was enrolled at NYU and spent the next four years working towards a degree. He spent his days as a student, his nights as a poker player. Degree in hand, Jordan left school and didn’t look back. He framed the piece of paper, put it right there next to Harris’ on the wall and then threw himself into the business Harris had started. It was a pretty big firm but thanks to school, Jordan knew what he was looking at.

However Jordan’s heart wasn’t really in it so he slowly spent less time at the office and only really went in when papers needed his signature or something needed approval. Slowly, over time, Jordan turned into the man he is now. But he did return to the business, it just took a few years and too many fights with strangers. He wasn’t so much angry at the world as he was lost. So he filled his time with poker tournaments, becoming a proper professional and spent his sleepless nights at the office doing what needed to be done there. After a few more years, he spent more and more time at the office, while still trolling for poker games. At twenty-nine, Jordan is still trying to figure life out in-between poker games, the architecture firm and drinking at night clubs, though the latter is getting boring.

YOUR ALIAS: Cali.
RULE WORDS: I has them!
WHERE YOU FOUND US: In a bottle on the beach.
SAMPLE:

Um, maybe next time!

[Cali]