(no subject)
THIRD ROUND. This is a relatively small counselor batch, so guys, please vote! Do it. Do itttttttt.
Remember!
- Applicants, respond anonymously.
- If you're going to do the whole "ask me why I voted you out!" thing, please state who you voted out.
- No speculating about the identity of the applicants!
Now VOTE. Closeddddd.
Character: Malik Al-Sayf
Series: Assassin's Creed
Age: 26
Job: Head of the Assassin's Bureau: CFUD branch
Canon: Assassin's Creed is the story of an assassin named Altair on his journey for redemption. After a mission that failed due to his arrogance that cost the life of one assassin and the arm of another, Altair is demoted from the rank of Master Assassin to Novice. He is then assigned to kill nine men, connected to the Knights Templars and the plans to conquer the Holy Land during the Third Crusade.
Malik Al-Sayf is the assassin who lost his left arm during that failed mission. After returning alive, he has to quit being an assassin and instead become the head, of the Assassin's Bureau in Jerusalem. At first, Malik makes no effort to hide his hatred of Altair, pointing out the smallest mistakes and looking down on him whenever they speak. Over time, Malik gains respect for Altair as he changes and redeems himself and speaks to him as a fellow assassin. Malik is a dedicated individual, devoting himself entirely to whatever he believes in, though that may leave him blinded to what is going on around him. He is a harsh and wise assassin who doesn't see much point in sugar coating words, even if he is on good terms with people.
Note: A major part of the gameplay of Assassin's Creed are the investigation missions, which must be completed before you can unlock the assassination missions.
Sample Post
I still do not think that I fully understand what Altair is thinking in sending me to this location. I have not heard of the city of Sefud, but it has taken me quite some time to travel here from Masyaf, so I feel that it must be important for me to be here. Before I left, Altair had told me that several of our brothers are in this city, and that they need someone here to ensure that they are performing their jobs correctly. I suppose that I can question him more about this when I return, but until I do so…
Safety and peace my brothers, my name is Malik Al-Sayf, and it seems that I am to be the new head of the Assassin's Bureau here in Sefud. It has come to my attention that many of you are completing jobs without doing enough investigation before hand. That simply can not happen, and I am here to correct that problem. You can not just go out and finish your assignment unless you gather as much information as you can about your target. Can you tell me what would happen if you show up and find out that your target is much more heavily guarded then you had thought? Or if they had heard from somewhere that you were coming and set up a trap for you?
Exactly, you don't know, which is why these investigations are a vital part needed to fully complete your mission. You need to be prepared for whatever comes your way. Well then, now that you know the importance of these missions, can you tell me who you are sent to go after? … Ah, so you are being sent to take care of the one known as Marcy. You're in luck, even though I had just arrived, I have already heard of a number of things that might aide you in your investigation. It seems that Marcy is quite fond-- hey, what do you think you are doing? Pay attention to what I am telling you and not to whatever is happening above you. I do not care if something is "so intense all the way across the sky."
Now, as I was saying, it seems that Marcy is quite fond of climbing through windows and snatching people up and it is important for everyone to hide those dear to them, so be careful when undertaking your investigations. I hear that you can find out more information about Marcy around the grain silo, so why don't you start out there and tell me what you find. … Well? What are you waiting for? Don't just stand here waiting, go out and do what you are supposed to!
What do you mean that you're afraid and don't want to do it alone? I am not going to give you a hand.
… and no, that does not mean that you should give me one of yours.
Poll Vote!
Character: Garrus Vakarian
Series: Mass Effect
Character Age: He's easily in his late 20's or early 30's.
Job: Zombie Resistance Coodinator
Canon: The year is 2185. Two years have passed since Commander Shepard, the hero of humanity, saved the galaxy from rogue Spectre agent Saren. The commander has been mostly dead for two years and recently revived by the mad scientist/space-racist/terrorist organization Cerberus and tasked with destroying the Collectors, an enigmatic race of space bugs who have been abducting entire human colonies. To accomplish this task, Shepard must recruit a ragtag team to take on what will likely be a suicide mission to pass through the Omega 4 Relay, a point in space from which no ship has returned.
Garrus assisted Shepard in the hunt for Saren two years ago. He's a turian (read: space dinosaur Roman) cop who got fed up with the system during the time Shepard was missing, turned in his badge, zipped out to the most wretched hive of scum and villainy that he could find, and went to town as a vigilante. He's a crack shot with a sniper rifle, and absolutely vicious to his enemies, but amicable to his friends and allies. He's far more outwardly cynical than he was two years ago, and deeply sarcastic. Garrus has become severely jaded by what he's seen and experienced, but that hasn't dampened his love of justice or desire to protect the galaxy for all species of sentient life. Loyal, deadly, and dedicated to the mission-if you're walking through hell, you're going to want Garrus by your side.
As a small note, Mass Effect has two variants on space zombies, so he's got experience with undead fightin' on his résumé.
Sample Entry:
Great, another colony that's been ... transformed. You know, there was a time in my life when dropping down to an agri-colony only to find that its inhabitants have been turned into soulless parodies of humanity surprised and horrified me. The fact that I'm practically used to this is probably a bad thing. But then, there's never a mission to aid a colony when things are going well, is there? The mission debrief called for "aiding subjects against non-human invasion threat in the C.F.U.D Agri-Facility." The request came from a "Director Sayre." Sounded corporate. I suppose I was hoping for pirates or mercs. You know, a little more action, a little less depressing, bone-chilling horror.
At least there are survivors. That's new. And seeing as there aren't any auto-turrets, mechs, or fortified bunkers, I'm going to assume that those antique weapons you're all carrying are all we've got to hold off the next wave. Just great. Well, pay attention to me and you just might make it out of this mess alive.
With most living targets, your best bet is to aim for the torso. You don't need to be precise, and you'll probably hit something vital. But the problem with creatures like these is that a little thing like "pain" or "severe organ trauma" doesn't slow them down. So you need to be precise. Shooting out their kneecaps will slow them down and give you enough time to eliminate nerve function by destroying the brain. A shotgun blast at close range is good for knocking them down, too. But always remember to put at least one bullet in the head, just to make sure.
But all this isn't going to get us anywhere in the long haul. Your people have a saying: "the best defense is a good offense." You can't protect yourself unless you eliminate your enemy. As fun as it is standing around and taking potshots at these husks or creepers or whatever the hell you want to call these things, it'd be faster if one of you gave me a lead on where to find this "Sayre" woman. My gut's telling me she's the source of this mess. Once I track her down, I'll be more than happy to give a practical demonstration of what I just discussed.
Poll Vote!
Character name: Doctor Dinosaur
Series: Atomic Robo
Age: Allegedly over 65 million years old
Job: Paleontological Expert and Science Curriculum Advisor
Canon: When the brilliant Man of Science Nikola Tesla realized he needed a Man of Action to assist in his research, he built one: an artificially intelligent android known as the Atomic Robo. Today, having grown beyond his programming into the quintessential Man of Action and Also Science, Atomic Robo and the Fightin’ Scientists of Tesladyne continue their eighty-some year quest to protect humanity from those wild and weird threats that unfailingly rear their heads along the bleeding edge of Scientific Discovery.
Dr. Dinosaur is one such threat, a talking velociraptor who claims to be a time-traveling supergenius and would-be world conqueror from the Cretaceous Period bent on eradicating humanity and establishing a new Age of Reptiles. So far, though, Dr. Dinosaur’s quest for saurian dominance remains unfulfilled mainly because he’s crazier than a bag of hammers. His plans function according to warped logic and blatant factual inaccuracies, and while he’s got the “megalomaniacally deranged ranting” part of being a reptilian mad scientist down pat, he’s also petulant, overbearing, and incredibly obnoxious. It’s only his consuming hatred for all things mammalian and really annoying proficiency with modern weapons that make Dr. Dinosaur a legitimate Threat to Science.
Sample Entry:
Cower in fear and dread, puny mammals of Camp Fuck You Die! I, the great and terrifying Doctor Dinosaur, have come to usher in a new, glorious Modern Age of Reptiles and now you may all have the pleasure of being the first to be crushed beneath our terrible claws!
I have selected this as my greeting on the grounds that it is both pithy and informative, and while I doubt your primitive mammal brains can truly comprehend the complete depth and brilliance of my stunning pronouncement, I welcome any constructive criticism you might have to offer so that I might better astound your equally doomed successors when I eventually turn my attention to ending their worthless lives. I anticipate this will take some time as you are unused to such strenuous mental effort, but if I am satisfied or else amused with your attempts I may make your deaths swift and painless!
(Note: Indicate your approval by selecting “IN” at the end of this entry. Indicate your disapproval by selecting “OUT,” and I will devour your squishy mammal face at my earliest convenience.)
In the meanwhile, your Director-obviously recognizing both the crushing weight of my superior reptilian intellect and her own inevitable doom at my talons unless she proves herself useful-has opened the door for me to further enlighten you as to your mammalian inferiority when compared to dinosaurs. I am of course speaking figuratively in this! It is well known that a scientifically accurate velociraptor such as myself is entirely capable of opening doors on his own! Even your ridiculous mammal propaganda films have grasped this truth as firmly as I might grasp a door-opening lever. Her mildly useful but entirely unnecessary suggestion was that I reach your hearts and minds with knowledge! My preference would have been to reach them with tooth and claw and diamond-coated circular saw, but all in good time.
To that end I have obtained for you . . . a book! Behold! It contains both words and pictures to aid in your comprehension. It is titled Of Pteranodons and People and has been approved by the Intelligent Design Institute of Book-Learning! This is only natural, as what could be more intelligent than recognizing that your inferior mammal biology has been designed to serve the whims of your glorious dinosaur overlords?! I have had to make corrections to its text even so, since obviously dinosaurs would have built any Arks and “two of every kind of all the beasts of the Earth” is no way to stock a cruise buffet!
You shall all read this book and prepare a 500-word essay detailing what will be your favorite part of the coming New Reign of Dinosaurs, delivered to me by tomorrow morning. Mine will be the peaceful and benevolent takeover that occurs after we hunt all of you for sport, so you are not allowed to pick that as yours.
Poll Vote!
Name: Jeanne
Series: Bayonetta
Age: Almost 600, but looks to be around her late twenties … rude.
Job: Camp Fashion Coordinator
Canon: The Umbran Witches and the Lumen Sages have spent eternity balancing the light and dark in order to properly oversee the course of history. However, once the balance of power is tested, both Heaven and Hell break loose-with a witch named Bayonetta caught between. No worries though, she’s well equipped with her barrage of sexy dance moves, demon-summoning beehive hairdo, scruffy sidekick, and twin hand guns attached to her high-heeled shoes to battle the legions of angels that threaten her. Oh, and of course, there’s a beautiful antagonist standing in her way.
Jeanne, Bayonetta’s said antagonist SPOILERS and secret best friend, shhh, is the heiress to the Umbran Witch Clan. As any good heiress, her presence has an intensity that demands attention. With her fierce resolve, she’s willing to go to any lengths to make sure that her secret goals are achieved. Of course, her choice battles are not without a few witty remarks and choice cuss words, and she’s not afraid to openly patronize both those above and below her, giving them an earful when she feels things aren’t going according to her plan. Jeanne is categorized as the rebellious type, sporting a red riding suit and a motorcycle as her flag of how she answers to no one. She's aggressive and ruthless, sacrificing many of the angels who dare to oppose her, and coldly destroying anyone who decides to get in her way, should they be so unfortunate. Even those who are in her good graces rarely see her softer side, and are subjected to her idea of “hard love.” These traits also make her a loner by nature. Jeanne is a woman who cares more about the legacy of her people than her own life-though it’s not done without her tube of red lipstick.
Sample:
Shut your mouth and sit down, the lot of you! Are you ready to listen, or are you going to insist upon embarrassing yourself further by spewing this utter nonsense from your lips?
It’s time to put a few things in order. I trust that you will all behave and I will be on my way without much fuss. Requesting aid from an Umbran Witch and then reducing her to this kind of menial activity is simply deplorable. Your Director should be shot. To any of you who think you can further test my patience when I'm already so dreadfully irritated, then you will find yourself face to face with some unpleasant consequences. Do we have that clear?
-Now that I've got you all whimpering, shall we begin? You there-yes, you! The one in the matted, dirty, sweaty purple suit. Get up, let the rest of these dregs of society get a good look at you. See here? This monstrosity is the epitome of a fashion abomination. Aside from poor personal hygiene, this scruffy gentleman seems to have an affinity for fake fur collared shirts, this poorly-made argyle sweater, and this … ugh, a cheesecutter cap. You have absolutely no business in any of it, get rid of it. Purple and grey are a fashion faux paus-especially in your case. Do I look like I’m going to wait all day? Get rid of it. That’s right, take it off.
And you. Come. I could hardly care how many legs you walk on, that ultramodern metal armor that you have a certain affinity toward is no work of art. Futurism went out ages ago. It shouldn’t be worn by anyone who has half a brain. It’s possible that you’re missing a few screws, but that’s no excuse. If you insist on making that infernal bovine noise to argue with me, then I won’t hesitate to follow through with my threats. You sound like a defective child’s toy-one of those obnoxious farm wheels-and it’s sorely grating on my nerves. What did I say? Shut your trap! Now, now, isn’t that awful? I’ve gone and blown you up. Poor dear! A shame that the world will be missing another poor creature that can’t dress itself properly.
It seems like there’s only one solution to this eyesore. I may as well give you proper advice in style, since your Director has already been so ridiculously apt on turning this Camp into a cesspool of a fashion disaster. I know what you’re thinking, and for the next five seconds I’ll be gracious and answer your question without you speaking a word of it. If you waste this chance, you’ll turn out in pieces, just like your friend over there. Are you ready? Take this to heart, because I will only say it once.
Keep your dignity and don’t do cosplay. There are certain things no one wants to see.
Poll Vote!
Character: Eliot Spencer
Series: Leverage
Age: Early 30s
Job: Certified Backup
Canon: Once upon a time, a man hired a thief, a hitter, a hacker, and a mastermind to steal something very valuable. The man then did some very bad things, the worst of all being refusing to pay up for a theft well done. Also he tried to kill them. But the money was definitely more important. So, the mastermind found a grifter and the new team got payback. They also found out that taking down bad guys was a little fun, and giving to the poor gave them a kind of warm and fuzzy feeling deep inside. Three seasons later, the team is still acting as a modern day Robin Hood and His Band of Merry Men.
Eliot Spencer is the best at what he does, and what he does is hit people. He hits people real good, usually while growling and making scary faces. He’s like a Southern Wolverine, without the mutant powers or embarrassing spandex. After doing unknown work for the American government, he became a mercenary for unknown reasons. He’s also a master chef but how and why that happened is, well, unknown. Eliot keeps quiet about his life outside of work, but that hardly means work is all he cares about; he probably has the biggest soft spot out of everyone on the team - especially for animals, children in need, and decent hard-working Americans just trying to get by. However, everyone knows better than to take advantage of those weak spots since Eliot would never hesitate to bash in a face or two, even if it had glasses.
Sample Post:
I think we need to work on some definitions. Backup means “Eliot, take out the sniper.” It means “Eliot, get rid of the armed thugs.” Hell, I’ll even take “There’s a big hairy spider and I’m a skinny computer nerd. Get it, get it.” It does not mean “The line in the mess hall is really long and getting rowdy. Grab a ladle and a hairnet.” Like a little hair could make this slop any worse.
What is this anyway? I see some gray blobs, some green blobs, orange blobs. You know that blob is not a food group, right? Plus when I got this pot out of the fridge, I had to pull off a layer of skin. And I don’t mean pudding skin, I mean skin skin. I’m gonna give y’all the benefit of the doubt and assume that was pork. Do not clarify this. In fact, no talking at all while I serve up some possibly-pork mystery terror soup.
- Wait a minute. Is that red stuff what I think it is? Oh no. Hell no. This is not happening. I’m not dishing out anything with beets in it. There’s only so much bad food a man can tolerate. This soup has got to go. No, I don’t care that this is all they get to eat today. This is a camp, right? So let ‘em rough it for a few hours. Hey, man, don’t grab at me! Either I dump this out, or I dump this out and I break your fingers.
Look what you made me do. Snapped your fingers just like twigs. Snapped ‘em … off. And into the soup. Huh. That’s something I’ve never seen before. Quit trying to serve it anyway! You can’t even pick up the ladle. It’s pathetic. Now I’m going to lock myself in the kitchen and remake this entire meal. Don’t bug me, you hear? Oh, but you can slip a note under the door when the hunger riots start. Now that will be something that could use backup.
Poll Vote!
Remember!
- Applicants, respond anonymously.
- If you're going to do the whole "ask me why I voted you out!" thing, please state who you voted out.
- No speculating about the identity of the applicants!
Now VOTE. Closeddddd.
Character: Malik Al-Sayf
Series: Assassin's Creed
Age: 26
Job: Head of the Assassin's Bureau: CFUD branch
Canon: Assassin's Creed is the story of an assassin named Altair on his journey for redemption. After a mission that failed due to his arrogance that cost the life of one assassin and the arm of another, Altair is demoted from the rank of Master Assassin to Novice. He is then assigned to kill nine men, connected to the Knights Templars and the plans to conquer the Holy Land during the Third Crusade.
Malik Al-Sayf is the assassin who lost his left arm during that failed mission. After returning alive, he has to quit being an assassin and instead become the head, of the Assassin's Bureau in Jerusalem. At first, Malik makes no effort to hide his hatred of Altair, pointing out the smallest mistakes and looking down on him whenever they speak. Over time, Malik gains respect for Altair as he changes and redeems himself and speaks to him as a fellow assassin. Malik is a dedicated individual, devoting himself entirely to whatever he believes in, though that may leave him blinded to what is going on around him. He is a harsh and wise assassin who doesn't see much point in sugar coating words, even if he is on good terms with people.
Note: A major part of the gameplay of Assassin's Creed are the investigation missions, which must be completed before you can unlock the assassination missions.
Sample Post
I still do not think that I fully understand what Altair is thinking in sending me to this location. I have not heard of the city of Sefud, but it has taken me quite some time to travel here from Masyaf, so I feel that it must be important for me to be here. Before I left, Altair had told me that several of our brothers are in this city, and that they need someone here to ensure that they are performing their jobs correctly. I suppose that I can question him more about this when I return, but until I do so…
Safety and peace my brothers, my name is Malik Al-Sayf, and it seems that I am to be the new head of the Assassin's Bureau here in Sefud. It has come to my attention that many of you are completing jobs without doing enough investigation before hand. That simply can not happen, and I am here to correct that problem. You can not just go out and finish your assignment unless you gather as much information as you can about your target. Can you tell me what would happen if you show up and find out that your target is much more heavily guarded then you had thought? Or if they had heard from somewhere that you were coming and set up a trap for you?
Exactly, you don't know, which is why these investigations are a vital part needed to fully complete your mission. You need to be prepared for whatever comes your way. Well then, now that you know the importance of these missions, can you tell me who you are sent to go after? … Ah, so you are being sent to take care of the one known as Marcy. You're in luck, even though I had just arrived, I have already heard of a number of things that might aide you in your investigation. It seems that Marcy is quite fond-- hey, what do you think you are doing? Pay attention to what I am telling you and not to whatever is happening above you. I do not care if something is "so intense all the way across the sky."
Now, as I was saying, it seems that Marcy is quite fond of climbing through windows and snatching people up and it is important for everyone to hide those dear to them, so be careful when undertaking your investigations. I hear that you can find out more information about Marcy around the grain silo, so why don't you start out there and tell me what you find. … Well? What are you waiting for? Don't just stand here waiting, go out and do what you are supposed to!
What do you mean that you're afraid and don't want to do it alone? I am not going to give you a hand.
… and no, that does not mean that you should give me one of yours.
Poll Vote!
Character: Garrus Vakarian
Series: Mass Effect
Character Age: He's easily in his late 20's or early 30's.
Job: Zombie Resistance Coodinator
Canon: The year is 2185. Two years have passed since Commander Shepard, the hero of humanity, saved the galaxy from rogue Spectre agent Saren. The commander has been mostly dead for two years and recently revived by the mad scientist/space-racist/terrorist organization Cerberus and tasked with destroying the Collectors, an enigmatic race of space bugs who have been abducting entire human colonies. To accomplish this task, Shepard must recruit a ragtag team to take on what will likely be a suicide mission to pass through the Omega 4 Relay, a point in space from which no ship has returned.
Garrus assisted Shepard in the hunt for Saren two years ago. He's a turian (read: space dinosaur Roman) cop who got fed up with the system during the time Shepard was missing, turned in his badge, zipped out to the most wretched hive of scum and villainy that he could find, and went to town as a vigilante. He's a crack shot with a sniper rifle, and absolutely vicious to his enemies, but amicable to his friends and allies. He's far more outwardly cynical than he was two years ago, and deeply sarcastic. Garrus has become severely jaded by what he's seen and experienced, but that hasn't dampened his love of justice or desire to protect the galaxy for all species of sentient life. Loyal, deadly, and dedicated to the mission-if you're walking through hell, you're going to want Garrus by your side.
As a small note, Mass Effect has two variants on space zombies, so he's got experience with undead fightin' on his résumé.
Sample Entry:
Great, another colony that's been ... transformed. You know, there was a time in my life when dropping down to an agri-colony only to find that its inhabitants have been turned into soulless parodies of humanity surprised and horrified me. The fact that I'm practically used to this is probably a bad thing. But then, there's never a mission to aid a colony when things are going well, is there? The mission debrief called for "aiding subjects against non-human invasion threat in the C.F.U.D Agri-Facility." The request came from a "Director Sayre." Sounded corporate. I suppose I was hoping for pirates or mercs. You know, a little more action, a little less depressing, bone-chilling horror.
At least there are survivors. That's new. And seeing as there aren't any auto-turrets, mechs, or fortified bunkers, I'm going to assume that those antique weapons you're all carrying are all we've got to hold off the next wave. Just great. Well, pay attention to me and you just might make it out of this mess alive.
With most living targets, your best bet is to aim for the torso. You don't need to be precise, and you'll probably hit something vital. But the problem with creatures like these is that a little thing like "pain" or "severe organ trauma" doesn't slow them down. So you need to be precise. Shooting out their kneecaps will slow them down and give you enough time to eliminate nerve function by destroying the brain. A shotgun blast at close range is good for knocking them down, too. But always remember to put at least one bullet in the head, just to make sure.
But all this isn't going to get us anywhere in the long haul. Your people have a saying: "the best defense is a good offense." You can't protect yourself unless you eliminate your enemy. As fun as it is standing around and taking potshots at these husks or creepers or whatever the hell you want to call these things, it'd be faster if one of you gave me a lead on where to find this "Sayre" woman. My gut's telling me she's the source of this mess. Once I track her down, I'll be more than happy to give a practical demonstration of what I just discussed.
Poll Vote!
Character name: Doctor Dinosaur
Series: Atomic Robo
Age: Allegedly over 65 million years old
Job: Paleontological Expert and Science Curriculum Advisor
Canon: When the brilliant Man of Science Nikola Tesla realized he needed a Man of Action to assist in his research, he built one: an artificially intelligent android known as the Atomic Robo. Today, having grown beyond his programming into the quintessential Man of Action and Also Science, Atomic Robo and the Fightin’ Scientists of Tesladyne continue their eighty-some year quest to protect humanity from those wild and weird threats that unfailingly rear their heads along the bleeding edge of Scientific Discovery.
Dr. Dinosaur is one such threat, a talking velociraptor who claims to be a time-traveling supergenius and would-be world conqueror from the Cretaceous Period bent on eradicating humanity and establishing a new Age of Reptiles. So far, though, Dr. Dinosaur’s quest for saurian dominance remains unfulfilled mainly because he’s crazier than a bag of hammers. His plans function according to warped logic and blatant factual inaccuracies, and while he’s got the “megalomaniacally deranged ranting” part of being a reptilian mad scientist down pat, he’s also petulant, overbearing, and incredibly obnoxious. It’s only his consuming hatred for all things mammalian and really annoying proficiency with modern weapons that make Dr. Dinosaur a legitimate Threat to Science.
Sample Entry:
Cower in fear and dread, puny mammals of Camp Fuck You Die! I, the great and terrifying Doctor Dinosaur, have come to usher in a new, glorious Modern Age of Reptiles and now you may all have the pleasure of being the first to be crushed beneath our terrible claws!
I have selected this as my greeting on the grounds that it is both pithy and informative, and while I doubt your primitive mammal brains can truly comprehend the complete depth and brilliance of my stunning pronouncement, I welcome any constructive criticism you might have to offer so that I might better astound your equally doomed successors when I eventually turn my attention to ending their worthless lives. I anticipate this will take some time as you are unused to such strenuous mental effort, but if I am satisfied or else amused with your attempts I may make your deaths swift and painless!
(Note: Indicate your approval by selecting “IN” at the end of this entry. Indicate your disapproval by selecting “OUT,” and I will devour your squishy mammal face at my earliest convenience.)
In the meanwhile, your Director-obviously recognizing both the crushing weight of my superior reptilian intellect and her own inevitable doom at my talons unless she proves herself useful-has opened the door for me to further enlighten you as to your mammalian inferiority when compared to dinosaurs. I am of course speaking figuratively in this! It is well known that a scientifically accurate velociraptor such as myself is entirely capable of opening doors on his own! Even your ridiculous mammal propaganda films have grasped this truth as firmly as I might grasp a door-opening lever. Her mildly useful but entirely unnecessary suggestion was that I reach your hearts and minds with knowledge! My preference would have been to reach them with tooth and claw and diamond-coated circular saw, but all in good time.
To that end I have obtained for you . . . a book! Behold! It contains both words and pictures to aid in your comprehension. It is titled Of Pteranodons and People and has been approved by the Intelligent Design Institute of Book-Learning! This is only natural, as what could be more intelligent than recognizing that your inferior mammal biology has been designed to serve the whims of your glorious dinosaur overlords?! I have had to make corrections to its text even so, since obviously dinosaurs would have built any Arks and “two of every kind of all the beasts of the Earth” is no way to stock a cruise buffet!
You shall all read this book and prepare a 500-word essay detailing what will be your favorite part of the coming New Reign of Dinosaurs, delivered to me by tomorrow morning. Mine will be the peaceful and benevolent takeover that occurs after we hunt all of you for sport, so you are not allowed to pick that as yours.
Poll Vote!
Name: Jeanne
Series: Bayonetta
Age: Almost 600, but looks to be around her late twenties … rude.
Job: Camp Fashion Coordinator
Canon: The Umbran Witches and the Lumen Sages have spent eternity balancing the light and dark in order to properly oversee the course of history. However, once the balance of power is tested, both Heaven and Hell break loose-with a witch named Bayonetta caught between. No worries though, she’s well equipped with her barrage of sexy dance moves, demon-summoning beehive hairdo, scruffy sidekick, and twin hand guns attached to her high-heeled shoes to battle the legions of angels that threaten her. Oh, and of course, there’s a beautiful antagonist standing in her way.
Jeanne, Bayonetta’s said antagonist SPOILERS and secret best friend, shhh, is the heiress to the Umbran Witch Clan. As any good heiress, her presence has an intensity that demands attention. With her fierce resolve, she’s willing to go to any lengths to make sure that her secret goals are achieved. Of course, her choice battles are not without a few witty remarks and choice cuss words, and she’s not afraid to openly patronize both those above and below her, giving them an earful when she feels things aren’t going according to her plan. Jeanne is categorized as the rebellious type, sporting a red riding suit and a motorcycle as her flag of how she answers to no one. She's aggressive and ruthless, sacrificing many of the angels who dare to oppose her, and coldly destroying anyone who decides to get in her way, should they be so unfortunate. Even those who are in her good graces rarely see her softer side, and are subjected to her idea of “hard love.” These traits also make her a loner by nature. Jeanne is a woman who cares more about the legacy of her people than her own life-though it’s not done without her tube of red lipstick.
Sample:
Shut your mouth and sit down, the lot of you! Are you ready to listen, or are you going to insist upon embarrassing yourself further by spewing this utter nonsense from your lips?
It’s time to put a few things in order. I trust that you will all behave and I will be on my way without much fuss. Requesting aid from an Umbran Witch and then reducing her to this kind of menial activity is simply deplorable. Your Director should be shot. To any of you who think you can further test my patience when I'm already so dreadfully irritated, then you will find yourself face to face with some unpleasant consequences. Do we have that clear?
-Now that I've got you all whimpering, shall we begin? You there-yes, you! The one in the matted, dirty, sweaty purple suit. Get up, let the rest of these dregs of society get a good look at you. See here? This monstrosity is the epitome of a fashion abomination. Aside from poor personal hygiene, this scruffy gentleman seems to have an affinity for fake fur collared shirts, this poorly-made argyle sweater, and this … ugh, a cheesecutter cap. You have absolutely no business in any of it, get rid of it. Purple and grey are a fashion faux paus-especially in your case. Do I look like I’m going to wait all day? Get rid of it. That’s right, take it off.
And you. Come. I could hardly care how many legs you walk on, that ultramodern metal armor that you have a certain affinity toward is no work of art. Futurism went out ages ago. It shouldn’t be worn by anyone who has half a brain. It’s possible that you’re missing a few screws, but that’s no excuse. If you insist on making that infernal bovine noise to argue with me, then I won’t hesitate to follow through with my threats. You sound like a defective child’s toy-one of those obnoxious farm wheels-and it’s sorely grating on my nerves. What did I say? Shut your trap! Now, now, isn’t that awful? I’ve gone and blown you up. Poor dear! A shame that the world will be missing another poor creature that can’t dress itself properly.
It seems like there’s only one solution to this eyesore. I may as well give you proper advice in style, since your Director has already been so ridiculously apt on turning this Camp into a cesspool of a fashion disaster. I know what you’re thinking, and for the next five seconds I’ll be gracious and answer your question without you speaking a word of it. If you waste this chance, you’ll turn out in pieces, just like your friend over there. Are you ready? Take this to heart, because I will only say it once.
Keep your dignity and don’t do cosplay. There are certain things no one wants to see.
Poll Vote!
Character: Eliot Spencer
Series: Leverage
Age: Early 30s
Job: Certified Backup
Canon: Once upon a time, a man hired a thief, a hitter, a hacker, and a mastermind to steal something very valuable. The man then did some very bad things, the worst of all being refusing to pay up for a theft well done. Also he tried to kill them. But the money was definitely more important. So, the mastermind found a grifter and the new team got payback. They also found out that taking down bad guys was a little fun, and giving to the poor gave them a kind of warm and fuzzy feeling deep inside. Three seasons later, the team is still acting as a modern day Robin Hood and His Band of Merry Men.
Eliot Spencer is the best at what he does, and what he does is hit people. He hits people real good, usually while growling and making scary faces. He’s like a Southern Wolverine, without the mutant powers or embarrassing spandex. After doing unknown work for the American government, he became a mercenary for unknown reasons. He’s also a master chef but how and why that happened is, well, unknown. Eliot keeps quiet about his life outside of work, but that hardly means work is all he cares about; he probably has the biggest soft spot out of everyone on the team - especially for animals, children in need, and decent hard-working Americans just trying to get by. However, everyone knows better than to take advantage of those weak spots since Eliot would never hesitate to bash in a face or two, even if it had glasses.
Sample Post:
I think we need to work on some definitions. Backup means “Eliot, take out the sniper.” It means “Eliot, get rid of the armed thugs.” Hell, I’ll even take “There’s a big hairy spider and I’m a skinny computer nerd. Get it, get it.” It does not mean “The line in the mess hall is really long and getting rowdy. Grab a ladle and a hairnet.” Like a little hair could make this slop any worse.
What is this anyway? I see some gray blobs, some green blobs, orange blobs. You know that blob is not a food group, right? Plus when I got this pot out of the fridge, I had to pull off a layer of skin. And I don’t mean pudding skin, I mean skin skin. I’m gonna give y’all the benefit of the doubt and assume that was pork. Do not clarify this. In fact, no talking at all while I serve up some possibly-pork mystery terror soup.
- Wait a minute. Is that red stuff what I think it is? Oh no. Hell no. This is not happening. I’m not dishing out anything with beets in it. There’s only so much bad food a man can tolerate. This soup has got to go. No, I don’t care that this is all they get to eat today. This is a camp, right? So let ‘em rough it for a few hours. Hey, man, don’t grab at me! Either I dump this out, or I dump this out and I break your fingers.
Look what you made me do. Snapped your fingers just like twigs. Snapped ‘em … off. And into the soup. Huh. That’s something I’ve never seen before. Quit trying to serve it anyway! You can’t even pick up the ladle. It’s pathetic. Now I’m going to lock myself in the kitchen and remake this entire meal. Don’t bug me, you hear? Oh, but you can slip a note under the door when the hunger riots start. Now that will be something that could use backup.
Poll Vote!