Rudolph Glint

28

Male

It started off small, just a few lessons here and there for a budding teenager. It felt like an obvious choice joining band, or choir, or whatever he could get his hands on. A creative spark burned too bright in Rudolph's chest and he sought to sate it. In feeding it, he only fanned the flames of this spark and turned what little curiosity he had into a full blown passion.

At first, it had only started out as an intense love for the piano. Rudolph took every lesson he had to heart and flourished this newfound talent until his hands crapped after hours, upon hours of constant playing. Eventually, his parents confined him to play in the basement, where they bought him a few pads to keep the acoustics fresh and contained to only his corner of the basement. Having a kid play until three in the morning became a detriment to their sleep schedules, so they adjusted. Once Rudolph exposed himself to the glories of Ella Fitzgerald, a number of musicals, and a few more jazz legends, his sights turned instead to the smokey parlor pianos of the 40s. That crooning, hazy vocals of jazz and blues spoke to him like no other medium did. His register hit low notes like honey fermented in whiskey - a gentle baritone that rumbled deep in his chest, milky like the stars above.

This carried him from simple, high school orchestra to booking small gigs across a few small time pubs through Chicago (a town he loved and lived in since birth). The lack of any college credentials didn't matter to him - he had the chops to sing, and the talent to play. If people liked him, they'd book him. That positive thinking kept his head above water in the cold, unfeeling windy city. All throughout his early twenties, money came in tight and only ever in streaks of luck. Of course, knowing Rudolph, he turned that situation brighter and fully embraced the starving artist life. Mostly, it felt a little delusional, thinking that he'd eventually make it big. But, the will to keep fighting brought him a little closer to the fame he sought.

Throughout his years, Rudolph continued along his passion, occasionally picking up a few tricks and trades here and there. He found a knack for tap dance, but also found out he kinda sucked at freestyle - his legs required guidance to move. Trumpets and any horn instruments were a no go and he lacked a falsetto that sounded pleasing; it instead sounding like the various cats in the alley by his apartment whenever they, er, mounted each other. After watching 'Puttin' on the Ritz' a thousand times, he figured out the exact steps and perfected the performance enough to change it to fit one of his shows. He memorized all of the Little Mermaid, turned a few classics into jazz performances and eventually Rudolph did find a steady form of income. People liked what he did and, while he wouldn't be making any records soon, at least he got a steady supply of gigs around town that remained consistent.

That feeling of security came with his success and it allowed him to find time socializing. Socializing turned into dating and that turned into a whole other mess. Unfortunately, not many people staid long enough for Rudolph to find the romance he craved. A lot of his time dating consisted of one night stands in which he found himself on the receiving end of a total lack of second dates. It became trying, then, to go out when his friends insisted, "I can feel it; this is the one!" and that positive attitude quickly turned sour. No one liked him for who he was or what he did. Any time he talked about his passion, he'd get a blank stare and a series of nods that came with dull entertainment. Just the fact that he considered that an inevitable made it increasingly difficult to step into the dating game again. Eventually, he just succumbed to being alone for who knew how long. He had his music and he was still young, so fame could be right around the corner if America somehow fancied jazz and blues again. Hell, maybe he could become the next Liberace or some shit or Jazz's version of Adele. Fuck if he knew.

Driven, just so incredibly driven that it's hard to stop. For Rudolph, there's a set goal he wishes to achieve and a number of goals to get there. Most of all, there's always a chance, whether he makes it himself or luck takes him there; he's learned not to look a gift horse in the mouth. Tough times seem both common place and a distant thought to Rudolph. It's that determination and the burning love he has for what he does that keeps his eyes open and his chin up. Without that, Rudolph couldn't have possibly made it to where he's sitting right now. Things aren't the best, but damn are they still great. And Rudolph has felt that before. That crippling fear that he's simply not good at anything and he'll end up stuck hating whatever he chose to do. It's not the fear that drives him, but damn isn't it a good reason to list. "Don't want to become a potato," sounds about right.

Most of what makes Rudolph comes down to his optimism, though it's lacked that same fire in recent years. That only concerns his outlook on finding love, though. The trick is finding Rudolph without some kind of smile, an expression that dominates his face 9 times out of 10 and one that brightens the glow in his eyes and is responsible for the evident laugh lines already forming on his jowls. Any time things look bleak, Rudolph's mind likes to turn out the endless possibilities and focus only on what could go right - how a situation can turn around, again. Even in the face of adversity, Rudolph refuses to yield and he finds he owes a helluva lot to that stubborn optimism. Only caution and wariness benefit from negativity, any other time it does a person no good to let those thoughts eat at them.

As a person who fancies socializing (and who can get a little caught up in his work to the point he requires third party interference) and who thrives on crowds, Rudolph finds comfort in large groups. However, he finds himself most alive in a group of people he knows best and who know him in return. It's there that Rudolph can talk endlessly about his interests, what fuels him, what gives him life and people who want to listen to that tend to be the kind he gravitates toward. More so, Rudolph adores finding out what makes people happy because it's always nice to know he's not the only one to find something he's not only good at, but loves to do. Like his own single minded drive, though, Rudolph finds it best to focus on a single person. Multitasking, even juggling relationships, proves a difficult job for Rudolph and he finds that's a big reason as to why he can't seem to find a match in the dating scene. His own passion tends to run a wedge between himself and that other person and Rudolph always finds himself choosing his job over them.

Nonetheless, even in defeat, Rudolph still has his eyes open. He may not actively seek love, but he wouldn't be opposed if it somehow found him.

That's a very hard thing to narrow down. For Rudolph, it all centers on whether or not his partner can listen and if he can return that on an even basis. Or on a scale that's around the size of even - close enough. Because if there's something Rudolph hates more it's that dull, glazed look people tend to get when he talks, especially if it's about something he loves. He understands interests differ, but he's not looking for someone who finds his interests boring.

More or less, he's also looking for an individual who can live with sharing that 'most important thing in the world' role with his job. There's nothing wrong with a clingy person, it's just if that clinginess interferes with what he loves to do. Not only that, but maybe a person that can even usurp that position in his life, that can draw his attention toward them without forcing it. It's gotta feel organic, it's gotta feel real. If it's love, it's going to be the most important thing in his life, no matter what. That feeling has to click, but it's subtle, so it's probably something he'll notice along the way. But once you've got him, for sure, you've got him for life.

Not his idea. Not his idea, at all. However, his sister (a model who somehow got a following on Instagram that she can use against him; her Instagram, contrary to popular belief, is mainly her hobby in photograph - she's always loved taking pictures, and aspires to be a photographer one day. Also it's mostly of her cat 'King Arthur' who she found out was a lady, but deemed too late to change the name) pushed him toward the show in hopes that maybe it could be a last ditch effort? He reminds her endlessly that he's only 28 and has a lot of time to find someone he can fall in love with. Of course, like any sibling relationship, the rules of a dare state that one cannot chicken out, unless they would like to suffer the agony of eating the grossest sandwich ever made (as in: let dad fix you a turkey sandwhich and see if you can survive past the first bite). That's not something he's willing to risk and so he took the dare, but only because he values his life and because 77% of Lydia's followers said yes to the poll.

Nothin' much. He's got a tattoo on his shoulder of a koi fish slowly churning upstream. It looks dull, but when the light hits it just right, the koi has a wonderful shine to it. He got his belly button pierced on a dare, but the nose piercing was all his fault as an edgy teenager who wanted one rebellious act before graduating high school. He also owns a bird named 'Undertaker' because he assigned roles he had in his high school plays to a six-sided die and rolled. He almost cheated and rolled again, but couldn't find it in himself to do that, so he named his one pet after having been the undertaker in 'Porgy and Bess.'