(no subject)
WEEDING IS - weeding is. . . not finished. WE'RE SORRY after this post, there will be no further posts until weeding is complete. We got 77 apps and we have 30 slots guys, it's really hard with so many seriously good applications.
Here are the next five counselor apps. These all had the following:
1) An active, creative, functional JOB.
2) No format errors.
3) Nice, strong canons. Strikeout jokes weren't overused, image links weren't overpowering, the format was not overbearing - basically, things we know can get an app voted out all by themselves.
4) The time of submission of the application absolutely does not matter.
Remember!
- Applicants, respond anonymously.
- If you're going to do the whole "ask me if I voted you out!" thing, please state who you voted out.
- No speculation of identities while voting is going on!
Now VOTE. Cloooosed!
Character: Vash the Stampede
Series: Trigun (Manga)
Age: 150-ish (appears 24)
Job: Localized Disaster
Canon: On a desert planet called Gunsmoke, there is a man who was labeled as a natural disaster thanks to the fact that he has a tendancy to accidently destroy entire towns where ever he goes, not mention putting a giant crater in the moon. His name is Vash the Stampede, and needless to say the populace is generally terrified of him. At one time he was even wanted for sixty billion double dollars, an ordeal survived only because he has celestial-esque powers than can be reasonably equated to that of a nuke.
In actuality, Vash is a pacifist gunman with really, really bad luck. He's taken the almost literal weight of the world on his shoulders and as such refuses to ever take a life. He's empathic, forgiving, generous, humble, patient and pretty much every other virtue you can think of. And despite having sekretly cosmic levels of emo, Vash makes sure to be perpetually cheery and maintains a sense of humor best described as eccentric, allowing him to break into even the most tense of moments with a gag. He's also as gullible as an extremely gullible thing and will wholly buy into even the most idiotic sob story you can possibly think up. Then he'll cry for you and hug you and promise to make it all better. No, srsly.
Also, he has an evil twin brother bent on the destruction of all humanity, which never stops being the best plot cliche ever.
Sample Post:
GREETINGS, EARTHLINGS!
I, Vash the Stampede, am from a far off world! But fear not, for I come to you in the name of LOVE and PEACE!
At least, that's how I wanted to introduce myself. (Just like in the dime novels back home!) But if I was allowed to make any choices, I wouldn't be arriving on Earth for the first time under the slave labor of a terrifying Mistress at all. This is really proof that I'm followed by the God of Misfortune, isn't it? First she suddenly changes the setting from a Western to B-Horror, then tells me that she isn't a even real Mistress, and finally gives me this dangerous job! People are really going to be trying to kill me! Again!
But a slave really has no choice. Aah, it's too cruel...
Ahem.
GREETINGS, CHILDREN OF CAMP! FUCK! SCREW! YOU! DIE!
In order to teach you to over come your differences and work together in a time of crisis, the Humanoid Typhoon has been unleashed upon this unsuspecting camp located in Louisiana, United States of America, Earth! He is faster than a tentacle monster in heat! More destructive than a kamikaze zeppelin! Able to eat extremely large donut holes in a single bite!
Campers, now you must choose. Will you lock the doors on the closets your hiding in? Will you try to hide under an inconspicious pile of undead laundry? Or will you make your stand and UNITE? It is the time for all of you to bond together, form unexpected friendships, and let inter-gender/-racial/-species sexual tension blossom while surviving a disaster prone madman as he runs rampent through your new home!
But remember! Only by working as a cohesive team do you have any chance of stopping me!!
And until defeated I shall rain down upon you all with
DEATH
DESTRUCTION
AND MAYHEM!!!
But violence is really unnecessary, because my Ultimate Weakness is salmon sandwiches.
Poll Vote!
Character: Maes Hughes
Series: Fullmetal Alchemist
Age: Early 30's
Job: Grief Counsellor
Canon: Hughes is the walking, talking Kodak commercial of the Amestris military. Surrounded by all the death, destruction, and devastation wreaking havoc on his country and his friends, Hughes is always ready with a quick smile and a stack of photographs to shove in peoples' faces, all featuring his darling daughter Elysia. Elysia riding her tricycle. Elysia with her hair in pigtails. Elysia, quite simply, being cooler than you. But despite Hughes' mildly alarming fixation on his wife and daughter, and the fact that he tends to be silly and cheerful to the point of minor retardation, he's actually one of the most intelligent men in the Amestris military. Most importantly, he's a constant, steady support to his best friend, Roy Mustang, who he promised to be behind all the way to the top.
An Intelligence officer with sharp blades and a sharper mind, Hughes is the first person to figure out the Big Bad Secret lurking behind the military and the entire government of Amestris -- at least forty chapters before anybody else even gets a clue. However, after escaping from Lust's grabby claws and desperately trying to get a hold of Roy to let him know what he had discovered, Hughes gets shot by Envy -- shapeshifted to look like Hughes' wife Gracia, no less. Promoted to Brigadier General after his death, Hughes' memory continues to push Roy ahead in his desire to become Fuhrer. Because Hughes promised he'd always be there for him. And chances are, he still is.
Note: Roy and Death mentioned with permission.
Sample Post:
Hello, hello, Camp Fuck You Die! Ahhh, that's not exactly the most comforting and hospitable of names, you know. But I suppose I'm in no position to complain! You go where you have to for the people you care about, and in this particular situation... well! Brigadier General Hughes, at your service. Don't be put off by the stripes and stars! I'm just here to make sure you're all happy and sane and capable of coping with grave loss and devastating --
... not that kind of loss, I'm afraid. You're really going to have to see a doctor about that, my dear. Or perhaps a welder. Or -- ha, ha, let me introduce you to my friend Roy! Once we get that arm snapped back on, you'll be a pretty dashing sort of lady, won't you? A little gangrene never killed anybody, after all! And let me tell you, most men are intensely attracted to that exact shade of green!
What do you mean, he rejected you? Bah. This? Is why SOME people don't have wives yet. You can't afford to be so picky. After all, you're never going to find a wife as perfect as my Gracia. And honestly, Roy. This young lady here is just falling all over herself to show that she cares~!
... ahem. Disappointing bachelors aside, if anyone has anything they'd like to discuss, I'm, ah. An expert at dealing with death and grief. I assure you. We'll begin with a few simple exercises, learning each others' names, talking about how the situation has affected you, er... and then we'll...
AHA! ♥ Here we go! You simply can't be upset after seeing these. Elysia's hair is long enough for braids now. Isn't she just the most adorable thing you've ever seen~? Isn't she? Doesn't she make you feel better? Don't you feel a weight lifted off your chest after seeing her smiling face beaming back at you? No, no, where are you going!? I have more pictures! LOOK, IN THIS ONE SHE'S EATING A CUPCAKE!
Oh, and that reminds me! If anybody sees Miss Death around, tell her I have new pictures to show her. ♥
Poll Vote!
Character: Gregory House
Series: The aptly named House M.D.!
Age: Forties.
Job: Sensitivity Counselor
Canon: Some doctors have the messiah complex, they need to save the world. House has the Rubix complex -- he needs to solve the puzzle. 'Brilliant' is an understatement, as he has a knack for retaining random knowledge, possessing the ability to infer connections that make a paradoxical sort of sense. He prefers to avoid mundane diagnosis, ditching clinic duty in favor of everything else, and dislikes meeting the patients of his rare cases. He is always quick-witted, sharp-tongued and not afraid to express his distaste for... anything.
House lost a substantial portion of the muscle in his leg, providing him with a considerable amount of agony and the fate of being unable to walk properly without a cane. He is an addict to Vicodin (a strong painkiller/relaxant), which he claims is for "all those times he's in pain" which means "always" and "especially when I have clinic duty". He is constantly at odds due to his maverick behavior with his patients, and moreover his hand-picked team of very competent medical specialists; as well as his boss Dr. Cuddy. (She forces him to do normal doctor things, which he is very adamant in not doing.)
To paraphrase Cuddy: "He'd rather listen to himself talk than listen to somebody else's problems." That doesn't mean he doesn't want to help. He just doesn't want to care.
Sample Post:
It's not everyday you walk into the midst of a leper colony. ... Though, it is everyday that I'm told by women to do things I don't want to do. Too bad lepers are boring. I talk, but does anybody listen? Dr. Gregory House, infectious disease and nephrology specialist, requested to arrive at a filthy children's summer camp, directed to help solve a murder. Two purely rhetorical questions: Do I look like I know how a criminal mind works? Do I look like a murderer? Besides all the times I've been charged for assault on poor, defenseless patients who only wanted to kick off.
And that's not all!
Congratulations, kids. I'm your brand spanking new sensitivity counselor. I'll be in unsightly office-shack one. Because I'm such a generous man, I'll be offering my medical expertise as well. How? Well, here's a demonstration. Differential diagnosis for everybody's favourite director? Her problem is she has vasculitis. (Personally, I think it's just because she's a woman. I'd be angry all the time too with funbags to play with and no time to do it...) Who disagrees? Nobody? Anybody got a clue what it even is, or are you just nodding because you think my stethoscope matches the color of my eyes? You? No?
Good! You all fail. Now, if we're going to sit here and discuss everything it's not, I could have stayed somewhere relatively close to civilization, tuned into General Hospital and simultaneously ignored my team of medical specialists. Oh, please. Suggestions, anybody? You're all bright, impressionable minds here. You must have something from the media to spit back at me in an anarchic rage. Oops, did I say impressionable? I meant intelligent.
Enough about that. More about me! As you can very clearly see, (unless you are blind, in which case I will kindly injure you with my cane -- I'm such a nice guy) I am a cripple. As a cripple, I reserve the right to be in constant pain. For that, I take drugs. The drugs are for me, the insulting accusations towards my person are for you. As long as we have that covered, we will get along fine until you do something idiotic enough to merit yourself a whacking from my cripple-stick.
... that, and drugs are yummy.
Poll Vote!
Character: Mitarashi Anko
Series: Naruto
Age: 24
Job: Enforcer of the Dress Code
Canon: Mitarashi Anko is the second examiner in the Chunnin Exams, a series of tests designed to see who has what it takes to graduate from the low-level ninja rank of genin to mid-level chuunin. Way back in the day when she was a wee little ninja, she was the only student to series baddy Orochimaru, and even received his curse seal. However, he decided that she didn't have the same thirst for power and vengeance as he, and ended up abandoning her. Can we say "complex"?
Anko is loud, proud, and frequently hungry, with a tendency to make flashy entrances (but whether or not they have good timing is another story entirely). And hey, she's obviously got a great sense of humour too, because how is joking about death and carnage during a dangerous test not funny? And that blood fetish of hers? Perfectly normal! All of that aside, she knows what her job is and does it well--leading her to be quite the hardass at times. She's incredibly loyal to her home, and has demonstrated that she is more than willing to give her life to protect it. And really, this is a girl who knows how to take pain. After all, wearing that fishnet bodysuit with nothing underneath can't be the most comfortable thing in the world to ninja around in.
Sample Post:
My, my, my, if this place isn't literal!
I admit to being something of a rule-following kinda gal myself, and while it really isn't my place to say anything, a word of advice to the management? The phrase "more fun than a barrel of monkeys" you outlined in the contract does not mean that there has to be an actual barrel of monkeys anywhere on the premises. Or, if you want to be specific, a barrel of now-dead monkeys stewing in their own blood, because I don't take too kindly to primates acting all familiar-like~ Sorry guys, these things happen.
Moving right along, now! I'm Mitarashi Anko, and I'm a ninja; yeah, one of the dotters, 'though I've always been more partial to exclamation points, myself. So I've been told that I'm here to teach you how to dress. Special, I know, but a proper outfit can be the difference between life or death on a mission. I heard through the grapevine--once again, talking flora does not need to actually exist, that was like something out of the Forest of Death, yeesh--that you guys are in rough shape. Sure, you're all-powerful and can crush the universe with your mind, but there's no accounting for taste, and do you really need that cape? Those safety hazards you call shoulderpads? Yeah, I didn't think so.
Honestly, that's not the most pressing issue! So I've written a few rules on these here scrolls that you all should memorize by tonight. Needless to say, harsh disciplinary action will be taken if you fail to do so! Take a minute to mull over 'em while I explain. Number one! You will not ogle a girl, no matter how she's dressed! Number two! Why yes, my eyes are up here, so you can stop checking elsewhere! Number three! Nudity should be saved for very special occassions, and none of those special occasions should involve being in front of me if you're prepubescent! Number four! When in doubt, choose fishnet. It's served me well so far!
Ah well, it's not as if there's anything here that can't be fixed with a little bit of Anko Brand TLC--that's Tough Life-threatening Carnage, by the way. Guaranteed to whip even the most stubborn violator into shape! You hear that, maggots?! Now drop and give me--!!
...no, no, not your pants.
Poll Vote!
Character: Spike (Wiki: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spike_%28Buffy_the_Vampire_Slayer%29 )
Series: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (Wiki: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Buffy_the_Vampire_Slayer )
Age: Around 147 (Season 4); appears to be in late 20's
Character Job: Night Watchman
Canon: There are the vampires who want to destroy the world, those who adhere to the ancient and sacred rituals, those who desire to restore hell on earth and bring back the dark ones.
Spike will tell them all to bugger off then go watch 'Passions'.
A punk and a rebel, Spike does things his own way and never follows the plan, even if he came up with it. He has emotions; things he likes, things he loves, things he hates; and he's perfectly willing to act on them. He even helps Buffy save the world because he likes things the way things are, with 'people walking around like Happy Meals with legs'.But don't let that fool you. Originally from England, Spike is a killer with a love for violence and a good fight. Just for the fun of it. At least he was until he was captured by commandos and had a chip placed in his brain. One that he'll do anything to get out, seeing it keeps him from being able to hurt any human beings.
From the point in canon he's being apped from, Spike has a very loose truce with the Scooby gang. He can't cause that much trouble, and sometimes he helps them out (for money, of course). After all, there's nothing like a good brawl with the things that he is still able to fight. Demons and the Undead.
Sample Post:
Bloody hell.
To whoever's running this wannabe-hellshow, this isn't the right way to go about things. Tempting a bloke with promises of no Slayer, no chips, and plenty of kittens, then going off and sticking him in some summer camp to play guard duty to a bunch of sniveling little twerps? Don’t tell me that was your master plan. Just because I've got this bloody chip in my head, temporarily mind you, doesn’t make me some goody-goody now. Me, helping you? As if.
'Sides, we can’t be overlooking the fact that the only things I can kill around here are those rotty chaps you’ve got moping about. 'Urgh...braaaiiins...Lookit me. My arm's falling about and such.' Yeah, real scary. I'm not much caring for having to fight them. No challenge. And they get stuck in my nails…I may need to invest in that hand sanitizer stuff if this keeps up for much longer. You know. The gel stuff that dries when you rub it in. Neat little invention, that. Lessens paper towel use, saves trees, protects the environment, and keeps all the little humans around that much longer so we can eat you. This place doesn't even have the little soap dispenser gadgets in the bathrooms. Just because I'm evil doesn't mean I'm friendly with bacteria. Germs crawling all over your skin. Do you think I like being gross or something? Slayer may be thorn in my side, but her Watcher kept the good stuff. Not to say that I’m not thrilled she’s not here or anything-
What?
I’m in the middle of nowhere and the Slayer and her little Scooby brigade are here too? Well if that don't bloody beat all. I'm gone. And don't anybody think of telling me I can’t leave. What you going to do? Slap me on the wrists? Or even better, tell me I need to be all friendly with the zombies and not be killing 'em. Again. Maybe I should just help that bloke over there remove his head from his rotting-
Oh. Nevermind then. Guess he didn't need help after all. Hm. Shame.
Character: William the Bloody a.k.a. Spike
Series: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Age: 126...ish (possibly died at mid-late twenties)
Job: Sentinel
Canon: William was once a sweet young man that enjoyed poetry and looked after his mum until a crazy vampire found him and made him one of them. Then he became Spike.
Spike is first and foremost, bad. He likes being bad, he kills, drinks blood and likes to talk about how that one slayer begged for her life. He has no remorse about that. He will never say no to a good fight and gets restless if he doesn't get a nice dose of violence once in a while. He is sarcastic, loud, and is not above adopting a high-pitched tone of voice to annoy whoever he's talking with. He is also very good at reading people and uses this to his advantage. Despite all these Spike is, in his own words, love's bitch. He is extremely loyal and devoted to the one he loves.
(I'm pulling Spike from after the fourth season, he has a microchip in his head that renders him unable to hurt humans. He can however, kick puppies and crush flowers.)
Sample Post:
Bloody hell! This is worse than Dawn of the Dead V. Sodding G.I. Joe. I knew I couldn't trust him, he and the slayer with her blonde hair and high heels; "Pwease Spike. Twust Wiley, Spike. You're soooo~ sexy, Spike. Get in the van or I'll stake you, Spike." I am going to crush her tiny neck and make her--
Oh, people... Hello! Was I speaking to myself just now? I'm so sorry, sometimes I get lost in my own head making stories. They're quite fun, really. My name is Sandro, yeah, Sandro D. Mon. My grandfather was Russian, he came to America in search of... freedom and a nice wife.
I'm your new sentinel, a very suitable job for someone like me, since I'm photosensitive and sadly I can't work during the day. It would be terrible for my skin, you see? I'd get scalded and red, it wouldn't be pretty. Why, in fact, I would look exactly like one of your lepers and-- Oh, for God's sake, who am I kidding? You prats have rotting zombies, evil flowers and Nessie over at the lake, you can take the sad, hard truth. And if you can't. Well. Pity.
I am a vampire, a Master one at that. Grrr rar, cower in fear. Point is, I'm here to find out what the hell is up with the demon activity. I'm with the good guys, for once. Not by choice, mind you. Now the sooner I get this over with, the sooner I can go back to my crypt. Hostile subterrestrials - that's pansy for demons - form a line to my left, I'll make it quick. Non-demons, elves, unicorns and other mythical fauna can go back to singing kumbaya. Save me some marshmallows.
Poll Vote!
Here are the next five counselor apps. These all had the following:
1) An active, creative, functional JOB.
2) No format errors.
3) Nice, strong canons. Strikeout jokes weren't overused, image links weren't overpowering, the format was not overbearing - basically, things we know can get an app voted out all by themselves.
4) The time of submission of the application absolutely does not matter.
Remember!
- Applicants, respond anonymously.
- If you're going to do the whole "ask me if I voted you out!" thing, please state who you voted out.
- No speculation of identities while voting is going on!
Now VOTE. Cloooosed!
Character: Vash the Stampede
Series: Trigun (Manga)
Age: 150-ish (appears 24)
Job: Localized Disaster
Canon: On a desert planet called Gunsmoke, there is a man who was labeled as a natural disaster thanks to the fact that he has a tendancy to accidently destroy entire towns where ever he goes, not mention putting a giant crater in the moon. His name is Vash the Stampede, and needless to say the populace is generally terrified of him. At one time he was even wanted for sixty billion double dollars, an ordeal survived only because he has celestial-esque powers than can be reasonably equated to that of a nuke.
In actuality, Vash is a pacifist gunman with really, really bad luck. He's taken the almost literal weight of the world on his shoulders and as such refuses to ever take a life. He's empathic, forgiving, generous, humble, patient and pretty much every other virtue you can think of. And despite having sekretly cosmic levels of emo, Vash makes sure to be perpetually cheery and maintains a sense of humor best described as eccentric, allowing him to break into even the most tense of moments with a gag. He's also as gullible as an extremely gullible thing and will wholly buy into even the most idiotic sob story you can possibly think up. Then he'll cry for you and hug you and promise to make it all better. No, srsly.
Also, he has an evil twin brother bent on the destruction of all humanity, which never stops being the best plot cliche ever.
Sample Post:
GREETINGS, EARTHLINGS!
I, Vash the Stampede, am from a far off world! But fear not, for I come to you in the name of LOVE and PEACE!
At least, that's how I wanted to introduce myself. (Just like in the dime novels back home!) But if I was allowed to make any choices, I wouldn't be arriving on Earth for the first time under the slave labor of a terrifying Mistress at all. This is really proof that I'm followed by the God of Misfortune, isn't it? First she suddenly changes the setting from a Western to B-Horror, then tells me that she isn't a even real Mistress, and finally gives me this dangerous job! People are really going to be trying to kill me! Again!
But a slave really has no choice. Aah, it's too cruel...
Ahem.
GREETINGS, CHILDREN OF CAMP! FUCK! SCREW! YOU! DIE!
In order to teach you to over come your differences and work together in a time of crisis, the Humanoid Typhoon has been unleashed upon this unsuspecting camp located in Louisiana, United States of America, Earth! He is faster than a tentacle monster in heat! More destructive than a kamikaze zeppelin! Able to eat extremely large donut holes in a single bite!
Campers, now you must choose. Will you lock the doors on the closets your hiding in? Will you try to hide under an inconspicious pile of undead laundry? Or will you make your stand and UNITE? It is the time for all of you to bond together, form unexpected friendships, and let inter-gender/-racial/-species sexual tension blossom while surviving a disaster prone madman as he runs rampent through your new home!
But remember! Only by working as a cohesive team do you have any chance of stopping me!!
And until defeated I shall rain down upon you all with
DEATH
DESTRUCTION
AND MAYHEM!!!
But violence is really unnecessary, because my Ultimate Weakness is salmon sandwiches.
Poll Vote!
Character: Maes Hughes
Series: Fullmetal Alchemist
Age: Early 30's
Job: Grief Counsellor
Canon: Hughes is the walking, talking Kodak commercial of the Amestris military. Surrounded by all the death, destruction, and devastation wreaking havoc on his country and his friends, Hughes is always ready with a quick smile and a stack of photographs to shove in peoples' faces, all featuring his darling daughter Elysia. Elysia riding her tricycle. Elysia with her hair in pigtails. Elysia, quite simply, being cooler than you. But despite Hughes' mildly alarming fixation on his wife and daughter, and the fact that he tends to be silly and cheerful to the point of minor retardation, he's actually one of the most intelligent men in the Amestris military. Most importantly, he's a constant, steady support to his best friend, Roy Mustang, who he promised to be behind all the way to the top.
An Intelligence officer with sharp blades and a sharper mind, Hughes is the first person to figure out the Big Bad Secret lurking behind the military and the entire government of Amestris -- at least forty chapters before anybody else even gets a clue. However, after escaping from Lust's grabby claws and desperately trying to get a hold of Roy to let him know what he had discovered, Hughes gets shot by Envy -- shapeshifted to look like Hughes' wife Gracia, no less. Promoted to Brigadier General after his death, Hughes' memory continues to push Roy ahead in his desire to become Fuhrer. Because Hughes promised he'd always be there for him. And chances are, he still is.
Note: Roy and Death mentioned with permission.
Sample Post:
Hello, hello, Camp Fuck You Die! Ahhh, that's not exactly the most comforting and hospitable of names, you know. But I suppose I'm in no position to complain! You go where you have to for the people you care about, and in this particular situation... well! Brigadier General Hughes, at your service. Don't be put off by the stripes and stars! I'm just here to make sure you're all happy and sane and capable of coping with grave loss and devastating --
... not that kind of loss, I'm afraid. You're really going to have to see a doctor about that, my dear. Or perhaps a welder. Or -- ha, ha, let me introduce you to my friend Roy! Once we get that arm snapped back on, you'll be a pretty dashing sort of lady, won't you? A little gangrene never killed anybody, after all! And let me tell you, most men are intensely attracted to that exact shade of green!
What do you mean, he rejected you? Bah. This? Is why SOME people don't have wives yet. You can't afford to be so picky. After all, you're never going to find a wife as perfect as my Gracia. And honestly, Roy. This young lady here is just falling all over herself to show that she cares~!
... ahem. Disappointing bachelors aside, if anyone has anything they'd like to discuss, I'm, ah. An expert at dealing with death and grief. I assure you. We'll begin with a few simple exercises, learning each others' names, talking about how the situation has affected you, er... and then we'll...
AHA! ♥ Here we go! You simply can't be upset after seeing these. Elysia's hair is long enough for braids now. Isn't she just the most adorable thing you've ever seen~? Isn't she? Doesn't she make you feel better? Don't you feel a weight lifted off your chest after seeing her smiling face beaming back at you? No, no, where are you going!? I have more pictures! LOOK, IN THIS ONE SHE'S EATING A CUPCAKE!
Oh, and that reminds me! If anybody sees Miss Death around, tell her I have new pictures to show her. ♥
Poll Vote!
Character: Gregory House
Series: The aptly named House M.D.!
Age: Forties.
Job: Sensitivity Counselor
Canon: Some doctors have the messiah complex, they need to save the world. House has the Rubix complex -- he needs to solve the puzzle. 'Brilliant' is an understatement, as he has a knack for retaining random knowledge, possessing the ability to infer connections that make a paradoxical sort of sense. He prefers to avoid mundane diagnosis, ditching clinic duty in favor of everything else, and dislikes meeting the patients of his rare cases. He is always quick-witted, sharp-tongued and not afraid to express his distaste for... anything.
House lost a substantial portion of the muscle in his leg, providing him with a considerable amount of agony and the fate of being unable to walk properly without a cane. He is an addict to Vicodin (a strong painkiller/relaxant), which he claims is for "all those times he's in pain" which means "always" and "especially when I have clinic duty". He is constantly at odds due to his maverick behavior with his patients, and moreover his hand-picked team of very competent medical specialists; as well as his boss Dr. Cuddy. (She forces him to do normal doctor things, which he is very adamant in not doing.)
To paraphrase Cuddy: "He'd rather listen to himself talk than listen to somebody else's problems." That doesn't mean he doesn't want to help. He just doesn't want to care.
Sample Post:
It's not everyday you walk into the midst of a leper colony. ... Though, it is everyday that I'm told by women to do things I don't want to do. Too bad lepers are boring. I talk, but does anybody listen? Dr. Gregory House, infectious disease and nephrology specialist, requested to arrive at a filthy children's summer camp, directed to help solve a murder. Two purely rhetorical questions: Do I look like I know how a criminal mind works? Do I look like a murderer? Besides all the times I've been charged for assault on poor, defenseless patients who only wanted to kick off.
And that's not all!
Congratulations, kids. I'm your brand spanking new sensitivity counselor. I'll be in unsightly office-shack one. Because I'm such a generous man, I'll be offering my medical expertise as well. How? Well, here's a demonstration. Differential diagnosis for everybody's favourite director? Her problem is she has vasculitis. (Personally, I think it's just because she's a woman. I'd be angry all the time too with funbags to play with and no time to do it...) Who disagrees? Nobody? Anybody got a clue what it even is, or are you just nodding because you think my stethoscope matches the color of my eyes? You? No?
Good! You all fail. Now, if we're going to sit here and discuss everything it's not, I could have stayed somewhere relatively close to civilization, tuned into General Hospital and simultaneously ignored my team of medical specialists. Oh, please. Suggestions, anybody? You're all bright, impressionable minds here. You must have something from the media to spit back at me in an anarchic rage. Oops, did I say impressionable? I meant intelligent.
Enough about that. More about me! As you can very clearly see, (unless you are blind, in which case I will kindly injure you with my cane -- I'm such a nice guy) I am a cripple. As a cripple, I reserve the right to be in constant pain. For that, I take drugs. The drugs are for me, the insulting accusations towards my person are for you. As long as we have that covered, we will get along fine until you do something idiotic enough to merit yourself a whacking from my cripple-stick.
... that, and drugs are yummy.
Poll Vote!
Character: Mitarashi Anko
Series: Naruto
Age: 24
Job: Enforcer of the Dress Code
Canon: Mitarashi Anko is the second examiner in the Chunnin Exams, a series of tests designed to see who has what it takes to graduate from the low-level ninja rank of genin to mid-level chuunin. Way back in the day when she was a wee little ninja, she was the only student to series baddy Orochimaru, and even received his curse seal. However, he decided that she didn't have the same thirst for power and vengeance as he, and ended up abandoning her. Can we say "complex"?
Anko is loud, proud, and frequently hungry, with a tendency to make flashy entrances (but whether or not they have good timing is another story entirely). And hey, she's obviously got a great sense of humour too, because how is joking about death and carnage during a dangerous test not funny? And that blood fetish of hers? Perfectly normal! All of that aside, she knows what her job is and does it well--leading her to be quite the hardass at times. She's incredibly loyal to her home, and has demonstrated that she is more than willing to give her life to protect it. And really, this is a girl who knows how to take pain. After all, wearing that fishnet bodysuit with nothing underneath can't be the most comfortable thing in the world to ninja around in.
Sample Post:
My, my, my, if this place isn't literal!
I admit to being something of a rule-following kinda gal myself, and while it really isn't my place to say anything, a word of advice to the management? The phrase "more fun than a barrel of monkeys" you outlined in the contract does not mean that there has to be an actual barrel of monkeys anywhere on the premises. Or, if you want to be specific, a barrel of now-dead monkeys stewing in their own blood, because I don't take too kindly to primates acting all familiar-like~ Sorry guys, these things happen.
Moving right along, now! I'm Mitarashi Anko, and I'm a ninja; yeah, one of the dotters, 'though I've always been more partial to exclamation points, myself. So I've been told that I'm here to teach you how to dress. Special, I know, but a proper outfit can be the difference between life or death on a mission. I heard through the grapevine--once again, talking flora does not need to actually exist, that was like something out of the Forest of Death, yeesh--that you guys are in rough shape. Sure, you're all-powerful and can crush the universe with your mind, but there's no accounting for taste, and do you really need that cape? Those safety hazards you call shoulderpads? Yeah, I didn't think so.
Honestly, that's not the most pressing issue! So I've written a few rules on these here scrolls that you all should memorize by tonight. Needless to say, harsh disciplinary action will be taken if you fail to do so! Take a minute to mull over 'em while I explain. Number one! You will not ogle a girl, no matter how she's dressed! Number two! Why yes, my eyes are up here, so you can stop checking elsewhere! Number three! Nudity should be saved for very special occassions, and none of those special occasions should involve being in front of me if you're prepubescent! Number four! When in doubt, choose fishnet. It's served me well so far!
Ah well, it's not as if there's anything here that can't be fixed with a little bit of Anko Brand TLC--that's Tough Life-threatening Carnage, by the way. Guaranteed to whip even the most stubborn violator into shape! You hear that, maggots?! Now drop and give me--!!
...no, no, not your pants.
Poll Vote!
Character: Spike (Wiki: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spike_%28Buffy_the_Vampire_Slayer%29 )
Series: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (Wiki: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Buffy_the_Vampire_Slayer )
Age: Around 147 (Season 4); appears to be in late 20's
Character Job: Night Watchman
Canon: There are the vampires who want to destroy the world, those who adhere to the ancient and sacred rituals, those who desire to restore hell on earth and bring back the dark ones.
Spike will tell them all to bugger off then go watch 'Passions'.
A punk and a rebel, Spike does things his own way and never follows the plan, even if he came up with it. He has emotions; things he likes, things he loves, things he hates; and he's perfectly willing to act on them. He even helps Buffy save the world because he likes things the way things are, with 'people walking around like Happy Meals with legs'.But don't let that fool you. Originally from England, Spike is a killer with a love for violence and a good fight. Just for the fun of it. At least he was until he was captured by commandos and had a chip placed in his brain. One that he'll do anything to get out, seeing it keeps him from being able to hurt any human beings.
From the point in canon he's being apped from, Spike has a very loose truce with the Scooby gang. He can't cause that much trouble, and sometimes he helps them out (for money, of course). After all, there's nothing like a good brawl with the things that he is still able to fight. Demons and the Undead.
Sample Post:
Bloody hell.
To whoever's running this wannabe-hellshow, this isn't the right way to go about things. Tempting a bloke with promises of no Slayer, no chips, and plenty of kittens, then going off and sticking him in some summer camp to play guard duty to a bunch of sniveling little twerps? Don’t tell me that was your master plan. Just because I've got this bloody chip in my head, temporarily mind you, doesn’t make me some goody-goody now. Me, helping you? As if.
'Sides, we can’t be overlooking the fact that the only things I can kill around here are those rotty chaps you’ve got moping about. 'Urgh...braaaiiins...Lookit me. My arm's falling about and such.' Yeah, real scary. I'm not much caring for having to fight them. No challenge. And they get stuck in my nails…I may need to invest in that hand sanitizer stuff if this keeps up for much longer. You know. The gel stuff that dries when you rub it in. Neat little invention, that. Lessens paper towel use, saves trees, protects the environment, and keeps all the little humans around that much longer so we can eat you. This place doesn't even have the little soap dispenser gadgets in the bathrooms. Just because I'm evil doesn't mean I'm friendly with bacteria. Germs crawling all over your skin. Do you think I like being gross or something? Slayer may be thorn in my side, but her Watcher kept the good stuff. Not to say that I’m not thrilled she’s not here or anything-
What?
I’m in the middle of nowhere and the Slayer and her little Scooby brigade are here too? Well if that don't bloody beat all. I'm gone. And don't anybody think of telling me I can’t leave. What you going to do? Slap me on the wrists? Or even better, tell me I need to be all friendly with the zombies and not be killing 'em. Again. Maybe I should just help that bloke over there remove his head from his rotting-
Oh. Nevermind then. Guess he didn't need help after all. Hm. Shame.
Character: William the Bloody a.k.a. Spike
Series: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Age: 126...ish (possibly died at mid-late twenties)
Job: Sentinel
Canon: William was once a sweet young man that enjoyed poetry and looked after his mum until a crazy vampire found him and made him one of them. Then he became Spike.
Spike is first and foremost, bad. He likes being bad, he kills, drinks blood and likes to talk about how that one slayer begged for her life. He has no remorse about that. He will never say no to a good fight and gets restless if he doesn't get a nice dose of violence once in a while. He is sarcastic, loud, and is not above adopting a high-pitched tone of voice to annoy whoever he's talking with. He is also very good at reading people and uses this to his advantage. Despite all these Spike is, in his own words, love's bitch. He is extremely loyal and devoted to the one he loves.
(I'm pulling Spike from after the fourth season, he has a microchip in his head that renders him unable to hurt humans. He can however, kick puppies and crush flowers.)
Sample Post:
Bloody hell! This is worse than Dawn of the Dead V. Sodding G.I. Joe. I knew I couldn't trust him, he and the slayer with her blonde hair and high heels; "Pwease Spike. Twust Wiley, Spike. You're soooo~ sexy, Spike. Get in the van or I'll stake you, Spike." I am going to crush her tiny neck and make her--
Oh, people... Hello! Was I speaking to myself just now? I'm so sorry, sometimes I get lost in my own head making stories. They're quite fun, really. My name is Sandro, yeah, Sandro D. Mon. My grandfather was Russian, he came to America in search of... freedom and a nice wife.
I'm your new sentinel, a very suitable job for someone like me, since I'm photosensitive and sadly I can't work during the day. It would be terrible for my skin, you see? I'd get scalded and red, it wouldn't be pretty. Why, in fact, I would look exactly like one of your lepers and-- Oh, for God's sake, who am I kidding? You prats have rotting zombies, evil flowers and Nessie over at the lake, you can take the sad, hard truth. And if you can't. Well. Pity.
I am a vampire, a Master one at that. Grrr rar, cower in fear. Point is, I'm here to find out what the hell is up with the demon activity. I'm with the good guys, for once. Not by choice, mind you. Now the sooner I get this over with, the sooner I can go back to my crypt. Hostile subterrestrials - that's pansy for demons - form a line to my left, I'll make it quick. Non-demons, elves, unicorns and other mythical fauna can go back to singing kumbaya. Save me some marshmallows.
Poll Vote!