Player Name: Heather Personal Journal:calluna E-mail: heather[.]roleplays[@]gmail[.]com AIM/MSN: thefirstnotes @ AIM Timezone: EST Current Characters in Route: None! FRESH MEAT RIGHT HERE.
Character Name: Harry Truman Series: Twin Peaks Timeline: The middle of 2x16 Canon Resource Links:
(Further elaborations on all of this can be found in the Strengths/Weaknesses section!)
“There's a sort of evil out there. Something very, very strange in these old woods. Call it what you want. A darkness, a presence. It takes many forms but... it’s been out there for as long as anyone can remember. And we've always been here to fight it.”
Harry is a lot of things, but the bulk of his identity is wrapped up in one label: Sheriff. He’s everything a small town like Twin Peaks (ignore the sign; as of the 1990 census, the population is 5,120.1, not 51,201) could want from its head law enforcement officer: vigilance, affability, reliability, and directness. He knows what needs to get done, he knows how to get it done, and he will—nine times out of ten—get it done with time left to relax with a few doughnuts and a nice cup of coffee. It’s rare that something stands in his way for long during an investigation; if there’s an obstacle, he’ll either find his way around it or find his way through it.
He is fiercely protective of Twin Peaks and its inhabitants. This attitude is half born from duty and half born from the fact that he’s a lifelong resident—unless you count the four years he spent up at Washington State College, which he doesn’t, given all the time he spent home on weekends. His dream from childhood was to serve his community; in 1983, he attained the rank of Sheriff. Harry’s loyalty to the town is admirable, though not without its dangers. Once you cross the line with him, it’s tough to get back on his good side. Hank Jennings can tell you an awful lot about that.
He's a down-to-earth kind of guy, practical in his methods but still unique in his approach. He's careful where others might be reckless, patient where others might demand. That may be his small-town mentality speaking. They're all in this together, right? So there's no sense in pushing anyone to the point of alienation. This philosophy of his, as well as his good sense of judgment re: other people, best shines through when looking at the highlighted staff of the Twin Peaks Sheriff Department: Lucy Moran, receptionist, talks too much; Andy Brennan, deputy, a few bullets short of a full around; Tommy "Hawk" Hill, deputy, occasionally annoyingly esoteric. Harry shows, time and again, that he's more than willing to give them all the chance he feels they deserve to prove themselves. Time and again, they do.
The first glance we receive of Harry reveals his sturdy, quiet nature. Instead of panicking and bolting for the door when Pete Martell calls up with the news that he’s discovered a dead body, Harry takes the time to grab his coat, hat, and calmly deliver a number of necessary orders to Lucy before he’s out the door. He shows no signs of rushing until he’s in his truck, at which point he floors it—thus exposing one of the few cracks he does have: his deep sense of personal investment in Twin Peaks. You’d think that such a thing is necessary for someone in Harry’s position, and it sure as hell is, but Harry is a curious mix of stoic (maybe even laid-back) and emotional; sometimes, he doesn’t seem to have the tightest grip on the former.
The last look at Harry before he shows up in Johto shows Sheriff Truman, partner to Special Agent Dale Cooper. Harry’s always been adaptable and accommodating, but there was something about Cooper that made Harry yield (possibly a bit uncharacteristically) to Coop’s expertise almost immediately. Through his work with Agent Cooper, Harry’s best traits have grown even stronger—his sense of perception is more honed, his outlook on things more broad and less rigid, his intuition more reliable. Harry’s grown under Cooper’s guidance, though that probably wasn’t intended (but when Coop’s involved, who the hell knows). On the flipside, Harry’s also a little more jaded, a little more cynical. Through his work with Cooper, Harry has come to realize that the evil presence rumored to lurk in Ghostwood National Forest is less an urban legend that sends chills down one’s spine and more a reality that can kill.
Strengths/Weaknesses:
"Harry, you're all right." – Dale Cooper
+ Lawman → As the sheriff, Harry’s got a number of l337 sk1llz pertaining to the physical. He’s a damn good shot, has a mean right hook (and an equally mean left one), and has a somewhat intimidating physical presence. He’s a big dude: 6’1” and muscled, still the portrait of the quarterback he was in high school. His expertise as a law enforcement officer also includes knowledge of local, state, and national laws (not that those will do him any good), a working knowledge of how to Take Someone Down in a Number of Creative Ways, and an impressive familiarity with firearms.
He knows Twin Peaks like the back of his hand, and even then he’d say he knew Twin Peaks even better than that. He’s an expert on the local flora and fauna, which has—maybe not so surprisingly—served him well in doing his job. As far as the residents go, he’s an expert on them, too, and isn’t above using their own psychology against them if need be. Usually, though, he uses that power For Good—after all, it's part of his job.
Take him out of his element, and that’s another story; it will likely be a while before he’s able to settle in to this big, new world.
+ Bookhouse Boy → Harry is a member of the Bookhouse Boys, a secret society that’s part mens’ club, part vigilante crew. Though membership sometimes calls for Harry to bend the rules—and, sometimes, even outright break the laws he’s meant to enforce—his role as a Bookhouse Boy shows how deep his loyalties lie, and that he is willing to do anything to keep Twin Peaks safe. An-y-thing.
+ Saint → Or patient like one, anyway. It takes some work to get on Harry’s bad side, but the quickest way to get there is to pull an Albert Rosenfield and be a complete and utter jackass. Aside from Albert (and the aforementioned Hank), though, Harry is fairly even-tempered even in the most taxing scenarios involving Rude People. He’s gentle when the situation calls for it, and he seems to recognize those situations immediately and will always react accordingly.
"I’m beginning to feel a bit like Dr. Watson."
+/- Taurus → There seems to be a strong emphasis on astrology placed on the characters within the series. Skeptical though he may be, an analysis of Harry’s birthday rings fairly accurate as far as he’s concerned.
"Normally, if a stranger walked into my police station talking that kind of insulting crap, he'd be looking for his front teeth two blocks away on Queer Street!"
- Skeptic → Though he sheds most of his doubting demeanor after Cooper rolls into town, Harry remains somewhat on-guard when it comes to the mystical. This isn’t something that works in his favor; given the mysterious nature of Twin Peaks, Harry should have been more receptive from the beginning. His skepticism brings along with it a mild sense of flippancy, shadows of indecisiveness, and, most dangerously, hesitance.
- Hothead → Once you’ve flipped Harry’s berserk button, good luck. As stated above, it takes a hell of a lot to piss Harry off to the point of taking action (usually this means someone is going to get a fist to the face, coughAlbertcough), but he can hold a grudge like nobody’s business. If not for Cooper’s vague explanation/dismissal of Albert’s behavior after Albert and Harry almost came to fisticuffs again (“Albert’s path is a strange and difficult one”), Harry likely would have continued disliking Albert a whole hell of a lot. As it stands, Cooper’s explanation was satisfactory, and no grudge exists.
- Lonely soul → It is remarked upon in printed canon that Harry sometimes feels lonely and too-burdened with the responsibilities he has as sheriff. (“I do get lonely from time to time. Sometimes it's hard being the Sheriff. Everyone looks to me for immediate answers and solutions. Unfortunately, it's not always possible.”) He tries hard to be the best he can be at what he does, and he takes it very personally when he fails.
And then there’s Josie. Josie Packard, Harry’s secret beau, makes—or made, rather—him very happy. This is a problem, given his canonpoint—in the episode he’s taken from, it’s revealed that Josie is the one responsible for shooting Agent Cooper and a whole slew of other terrible stuff. Harry is going to feel deeply betrayed by this and will probably have a hard time getting over it. (One episode later, Josie dies, and Harry goes on a slightly heartbreaking rampage.)
For this reason, Harry toes the line between introversion and extroversion. He's really an extrovert with introverted tendencies, the latter of which usually only comes out when he's feeling depressed or unable to process what's going on his head (which can lead to depression, as an inability to figure out what's going on upstairs usually leads to an inability to figure out what's going on around him).
Harry Truman | Twin Peaks | reserved | [1/2]
Name: Heather
Personal Journal:
E-mail: heather[.]roleplays[@]gmail[.]com
AIM/MSN: thefirstnotes @ AIM
Timezone: EST
Current Characters in Route: None! FRESH MEAT RIGHT HERE.
Character
Name: Harry Truman
Series: Twin Peaks
Timeline: The middle of 2x16
Canon Resource Links:
→ Twin Peaks
→ Harry at the Twin Peaks wiki
→ Harry at the Wiki wiki
→ Official bio card
Personality:
(Further elaborations on all of this can be found in the Strengths/Weaknesses section!)
“There's a sort of evil out there. Something very, very strange in these old woods. Call it what you want. A darkness, a presence. It takes many forms but... it’s been out there for as long as anyone can remember. And we've always been here to fight it.”
Harry is a lot of things, but the bulk of his identity is wrapped up in one label: Sheriff. He’s everything a small town like Twin Peaks (ignore the sign; as of the 1990 census, the population is 5,120.1, not 51,201) could want from its head law enforcement officer: vigilance, affability, reliability, and directness. He knows what needs to get done, he knows how to get it done, and he will—nine times out of ten—get it done with time left to relax with a few doughnuts and a nice cup of coffee. It’s rare that something stands in his way for long during an investigation; if there’s an obstacle, he’ll either find his way around it or find his way through it.
He is fiercely protective of Twin Peaks and its inhabitants. This attitude is half born from duty and half born from the fact that he’s a lifelong resident—unless you count the four years he spent up at Washington State College, which he doesn’t, given all the time he spent home on weekends. His dream from childhood was to serve his community; in 1983, he attained the rank of Sheriff. Harry’s loyalty to the town is admirable, though not without its dangers. Once you cross the line with him, it’s tough to get back on his good side. Hank Jennings can tell you an awful lot about that.
He's a down-to-earth kind of guy, practical in his methods but still unique in his approach. He's careful where others might be reckless, patient where others might demand. That may be his small-town mentality speaking. They're all in this together, right? So there's no sense in pushing anyone to the point of alienation. This philosophy of his, as well as his good sense of judgment re: other people, best shines through when looking at the highlighted staff of the Twin Peaks Sheriff Department: Lucy Moran, receptionist, talks too much; Andy Brennan, deputy, a few bullets short of a full around; Tommy "Hawk" Hill, deputy, occasionally annoyingly esoteric. Harry shows, time and again, that he's more than willing to give them all the chance he feels they deserve to prove themselves. Time and again, they do.
The first glance we receive of Harry reveals his sturdy, quiet nature. Instead of panicking and bolting for the door when Pete Martell calls up with the news that he’s discovered a dead body, Harry takes the time to grab his coat, hat, and calmly deliver a number of necessary orders to Lucy before he’s out the door. He shows no signs of rushing until he’s in his truck, at which point he floors it—thus exposing one of the few cracks he does have: his deep sense of personal investment in Twin Peaks. You’d think that such a thing is necessary for someone in Harry’s position, and it sure as hell is, but Harry is a curious mix of stoic (maybe even laid-back) and emotional; sometimes, he doesn’t seem to have the tightest grip on the former.
The last look at Harry before he shows up in Johto shows Sheriff Truman, partner to Special Agent Dale Cooper. Harry’s always been adaptable and accommodating, but there was something about Cooper that made Harry yield (possibly a bit uncharacteristically) to Coop’s expertise almost immediately. Through his work with Agent Cooper, Harry’s best traits have grown even stronger—his sense of perception is more honed, his outlook on things more broad and less rigid, his intuition more reliable. Harry’s grown under Cooper’s guidance, though that probably wasn’t intended (but when Coop’s involved, who the hell knows). On the flipside, Harry’s also a little more jaded, a little more cynical. Through his work with Cooper, Harry has come to realize that the evil presence rumored to lurk in Ghostwood National Forest is less an urban legend that sends chills down one’s spine and more a reality that can kill.
Strengths/Weaknesses:
"Harry, you're all right." – Dale Cooper
+ Lawman → As the sheriff, Harry’s got a number of l337 sk1llz pertaining to the physical. He’s a damn good shot, has a mean right hook (and an equally mean left one), and has a somewhat intimidating physical presence. He’s a big dude: 6’1” and muscled, still the portrait of the quarterback he was in high school. His expertise as a law enforcement officer also includes knowledge of local, state, and national laws (not that those will do him any good), a working knowledge of how to Take Someone Down in a Number of Creative Ways, and an impressive familiarity with firearms.
He knows Twin Peaks like the back of his hand, and even then he’d say he knew Twin Peaks even better than that. He’s an expert on the local flora and fauna, which has—maybe not so surprisingly—served him well in doing his job. As far as the residents go, he’s an expert on them, too, and isn’t above using their own psychology against them if need be. Usually, though, he uses that power For Good—after all, it's part of his job.
Take him out of his element, and that’s another story; it will likely be a while before he’s able to settle in to this big, new world.
+ Bookhouse Boy → Harry is a member of the Bookhouse Boys, a secret society that’s part mens’ club, part vigilante crew. Though membership sometimes calls for Harry to bend the rules—and, sometimes, even outright break the laws he’s meant to enforce—his role as a Bookhouse Boy shows how deep his loyalties lie, and that he is willing to do anything to keep Twin Peaks safe. An-y-thing.
+ Saint → Or patient like one, anyway. It takes some work to get on Harry’s bad side, but the quickest way to get there is to pull an Albert Rosenfield and be a complete and utter jackass. Aside from Albert (and the aforementioned Hank), though, Harry is fairly even-tempered even in the most taxing scenarios involving Rude People. He’s gentle when the situation calls for it, and he seems to recognize those situations immediately and will always react accordingly.
"I’m beginning to feel a bit like Dr. Watson."
+/- Taurus → There seems to be a strong emphasis on astrology placed on the characters within the series. Skeptical though he may be, an analysis of Harry’s birthday rings fairly accurate as far as he’s concerned.
"Normally, if a stranger walked into my police station talking that kind of insulting crap, he'd be looking for his front teeth two blocks away on Queer Street!"
- Skeptic → Though he sheds most of his doubting demeanor after Cooper rolls into town, Harry remains somewhat on-guard when it comes to the mystical. This isn’t something that works in his favor; given the mysterious nature of Twin Peaks, Harry should have been more receptive from the beginning. His skepticism brings along with it a mild sense of flippancy, shadows of indecisiveness, and, most dangerously, hesitance.
- Hothead → Once you’ve flipped Harry’s berserk button, good luck. As stated above, it takes a hell of a lot to piss Harry off to the point of taking action (usually this means someone is going to get a fist to the face, coughAlbertcough), but he can hold a grudge like nobody’s business. If not for Cooper’s vague explanation/dismissal of Albert’s behavior after Albert and Harry almost came to fisticuffs again (“Albert’s path is a strange and difficult one”), Harry likely would have continued disliking Albert a whole hell of a lot. As it stands, Cooper’s explanation was satisfactory, and no grudge exists.
- Lonely soul → It is remarked upon in printed canon that Harry sometimes feels lonely and too-burdened with the responsibilities he has as sheriff. (“I do get lonely from time to time. Sometimes it's hard being the Sheriff. Everyone looks to me for immediate answers and solutions. Unfortunately, it's not always possible.”) He tries hard to be the best he can be at what he does, and he takes it very personally when he fails.
And then there’s Josie. Josie Packard, Harry’s secret beau, makes—or made, rather—him very happy. This is a problem, given his canonpoint—in the episode he’s taken from, it’s revealed that Josie is the one responsible for shooting Agent Cooper and a whole slew of other terrible stuff. Harry is going to feel deeply betrayed by this and will probably have a hard time getting over it. (One episode later, Josie dies, and Harry goes on a slightly heartbreaking rampage.)
For this reason, Harry toes the line between introversion and extroversion. He's really an extrovert with introverted tendencies, the latter of which usually only comes out when he's feeling depressed or unable to process what's going on his head (which can lead to depression, as an inability to figure out what's going on upstairs usually leads to an inability to figure out what's going on around him).