(no subject)
Batch three! Biz is going to follow up with batch four shortly, so we can catch up and get these apps voted on before camper apps open this weekend. Weeding is done and the e-mails have been sent.
While our goal was to whittle it down to thirty total, we had a really hard time deciding between the last few at the end. Due to how previous batches went, we have added two slots (slots count per character, not application -- we have three more dup characters to go!). 32 total characters will be voted on.
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.
- Please don't speculate on who the apper is!
Now VOTE. Closed~
Character: A.J. Crowley
Series: Good Omens by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett
Age: Appears young, (somewhere between 25-30) but is actually 6000+ years old
Job: Guidance Counselor (though, admittedly, he probably wouldn't be very good at this, as he'd probably guide the campers down The Wrong Path.)
Canon: A.J. Crowley -- a.k.a. Anthony J. Crowley, a.k.a. Crawly (to the demon-folk) -- is Hell's field agent stationed on Earth, and probably the least demonic demon you can find. His idea of "doing evil" is tying-up phone lines in Central London, or giving guns to edgy business men and granting them all miraculous escapes to keep anyone from dying. Despite the fact that he spends his time making their lives a living hell (pun intended), Crowley rather likes humans -- and that sort of thing can get a demon into a great deal of trouble. Then again, trying to avert the Apocalypse is probably higher on the list of "Things the Occult Should Never, Under Any Circumstance, Do."
His interests include drinking fine wines, dining at the Ritz (sometimes with his angelic counterpart and supposed enemy, Aziraphale), driving his 1926 Bentley at impossible speeds, collecting high-tech electronic devices (stereos, televisions, fancy watches, etc), and terrorizing his houseplants gardening. He's entirely cynical because it's his job, along with acquiring souls for his bosses Down Below and causing as much mayhem as possible. Usually, though, he behaves as a wealthy and stylish and suave and just plain cool human.
Sample Post:
So, I just have to say, right off: I've seen a lot of things in my time, both good and bad, both breathtaking and banal, but this camp? Is entirely in a league of its own. In fact, I'd shake the director's hand if it weren't for my overwhelming desire to present the woman with a straitjacket and promptly throw her into an insane asylum. But, really -- flesh-eating zombies? Children with firearms? People getting killed, usually as a consequence of those first two, and then popping back into existence, thanks to the help of little white furry creatures with red pom-poms on their heads (which, I'm sure, is really annoying both the firm I work for and their rival company)? It's utter chaos. And if my front row seat hadn't been dropped into the metaphorical arena during feeding time, I'd absolutely love it.
At least these zombies also make for great stress-relievers. Gotta love that oh-so-satisfying combination of squishing and crunching noises they make when you slam a crowbar into their heads -- which are hard to find sometimes, what with the rotting flesh and the coagulated blood and the squirming maggots. And before anyone gets on my case, I did tell them that if they lurched themselves within ten feet of the Bentley, that I'd have about as much mercy on them as the Guy Upstairs had on Sodom and Gomorrah. I can't be held responsible for the ensuing carnage if this camp has the first documented sighting of suicidal undead. Or if they don't know their Biblical history and didn't understand the reference I made. Either way.
But enough of that, since that unamused gorilla slouching over there is glaring at me -- most likely as a reminder of what I should be talking about, which I definitely ought to get to before it launches itself at me in an off-topic-induced rage. Ahem. Hey, kids (and teens and adults and beings of various ages, sizes, creeds, species, etc.), I'm Crowley, your new camp counselor. Psychic Toucan Sam tells me I'm here to teach you all how to make decisions for yourselves so you'll have a better chance of succeeding in what we in the business like to call The Real World. (Er, not the show; although, just by the way, you're all very welcome for reality television. Aren't your lives so much better for it?)
What the other guidance counselors aren't telling you in order to protect your precious psyches is, leading a good life is directly linked to the connections you can make -- and you know what? Today, as of this very moment, you've made the best connection you ever could in your short lives. If ever you find yourself wanting something that seems completely impossible and beyond your reach? Come find me and I'll see what I can do to help. And all you'll have to do in return is initial in triplicate and sign on the dotted line.
Poll Vote!
Character: Constable Renfield Turnbull
Series: Due South
Age: early 30s
Job: RCMP recruitment and training official! Camp Secretary
Canon: Due South is, 'that show with the cop and the mountie,' neither of which are Renfield Turnbull. While he is a mountie, Turnbull is a character present purely for crack value. You wonder, during most of his scenes, how he made it through the practical/military parts of his training necessary to become a mountie in the first place. He's something like a puppy... cheerful and earnest, and wanting to be liked, but with very little actual intelligence. He appears in Chicago's Canadian Consulate halfway through the series in a mainly secretarial role; he answers phones, redecorates things, guards the front door, and is the official Comic Relief for quite a few episodes. He likes to make himself and his menial duties sound fancy and important... he might call guard duty, for instance, "ensuring the necessary safety of the immediate perimeter!"
Turnbull is a dork, and a textbook mountie... he follows any order he's given by higher ranking officers, can quote the RCMP handbook on command, and more or less hero-worships Constable Benton Fraser, the protagonist of this lovely little series. And I haven't yet mentioned his love for the Queen, for whom he keeps a bedroom prepared at all times, just in case she shows up in Chicago. (This will never happen.)
Turnbull is an obsessive avid fan of curling, loves country western music, and in his spare time he enjoys drawing, painting, and cooking. He also fancies himself a babysitter, but to let him watch your children is just asking for property damage.
Sample Post:
Ahh, summer camp. Not true wilderness, I'm sure you all realize, but rather a more manageable corner of it, just enough of the untamed outdoor experience for youngsters like yourselves. A slice of wilderness, if you will. Yes. Lovely.
I must say, it's wonderful to be out of the city for a spell, breathing fresh air once again! I am Constable Renfield Turnbull, of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, and I will be present for purposes of discipline, recruitment, training, and organization. Organizational mediator is my hired position, of course, but the former duties are those respected by all RCMP. They come with the Serge and Stetson, you might say, and while I'm here if anyone is interested in joining the ranks, they need only talk to me. It feels simply wonderful to be a man or woman in uniform, especially one indicative of your job!
What's that? Err... yes, I suppose an organizational mediator could be called a secretary, and there is appropriate attire for each and every job, but above all else I am an officer. It would be shameful to the RCMP --nay, the Queen herself!-- if I were to appear in public in such a revealing skirt. I would ask you not to suggest such a thing again.
Now! If someone would be so kind as to direct me to the Consulate, I'm sure they've made the necessary preparations, and will be able to settle me at my desk-----pardon? You don't have a Consulate...? Oh, dear. There must be some mistake, am I not at Camp... oh, that is not the name that was given to me at my briefing.
Ah, well, no matter. A Mountie never leaves his post! If there isn't yet a Consulate here, we shall erect one, what do you say? I, as ranking officer, will gladly serve as liason in addition to my other duties. Let's see, what will we need... portraits of the Queen, no doubt; a couch for the sitting room, of course; a tea set; draperies! Such things often go unutilized, I know that's what you're thinking, but I assure you, they add that final touch to an otherwise bare room. I'll just mark off this section of land here, and lucky for you folks I happen to have packed a flag. Let me just step over the line and plant it, claiming this land in the name of--
--there! Welcome to Canada! Since you're all newcomers to our nation, I believe an orientation is in order, as well as some good fun. Is anyone familiar with a sport known as curling?
Poll Vote!
Character: Lucretia Merces
Series: Suikoden V
Age: 31
Job: Conflict Resolution Counselor
Canon: IT WAS FALENA AND WAR WAS BEGINNING. What do you do if your mom looks like she's going crazy and your little sister loves you... maybe a little too much? Oh yes, have a tournament and get her engaged to an older man (who is not you). That's about when the Queendom goes to pot. Suikoden V involves a life or death struggle over the throne of the Queendom of Falena, and a poor Prince's struggle to save it. Lucretia becomes the Prince's strategist over the course of the story.
Lucretia Merces is one of the many in the line of Suikoden tacticians. She is, however, a tactician with a big fan. I'm not just talking about the people who like her. No really. A big feather fan. Lucretia has been a tactician for some time, and has honed her skills. She is quite good at adapting to situations, both in war and those she herself is in. If she believes someone may be coming to kill her, she's more apt to be gracious and inviting, but in her natural state, Lucretia is quite to the point. She doesn't hold back, though she tries to make it sound eloquent. Instead of lying, she'd rather just not give you all the information. She always has many plans going on in the background, many other options that she tries to keep available to her at any time. That said, she would betray you if you're doing something she didn't advise, or if you're doing something she considers the wrong move. She's not afraid of the repercussions, it's just the cost of doing business.
P.S - she really sucks at naming stuff; this is canon. Sadly.
Sample Post:
Oh, a captive, am I? Fine. I'm Lucretia Merces, your new conflict resolution counselor. An amusing term, really. Does my being a tactician scare you? Aah, perhaps it's the director it scares. Regardless, it's fortunate for you campers that I'm here now. Things would be much worse if I wasn't. I won't lie; should the situation arise, I will do what I believe is correct. This may or may not involve betrayal, but it looks more and more likely, employer or no. That's how I ended up in prison the last time. Since I'm already being detained here, well. What do I have to lose now? Besides, there's just so much more peace and quiet when you're being confined, don't you think? This includes the gorillas, zombies, and the rabid geese honking outside. Honest. I can always use some spare feathers for my fan, don't you think?
Here's my assessment of the situation. Could it be that you've been taking this all wrong with your attempts to escape? Perhaps it's time for you to play the Director's game. Use your environment to your advantage. For example, the lake. It's not the lake itself that's remarkable, but the oily residue that floats on the surface. It would be quite an interesting diversion if we were to be attacked, or to catch the director's attention. I do mean, of course, setting it on fire. Though that makes me wonder exactly how long it would burn. Why, it wouldn't surprise me if it had some other properties that even I'm not aware of. An elixir of youth? Perfect on toast? Or perhaps something else entirely. It may be worth looking into; maybe it'll even be something useful.
While I'm on the subject, I find it so unfortunate that the lake has no name. All good battles should have an interesting name associated with them. Therefore it stands to reason that if we do use the lake as an option in battle... I asked the director to allow me to name it, but for some reason, she didn't like my suggestion. Below Rainbow Waters Writhing Tentacles Wait? What do you think?
I suppose my point to all this is that there are so many other options available to you in this situation. Negotiate. Seek compromise. Strike while the iron is hot. The best offense is a good defense. Burn her! Et cetera. I'm sure you've heard so many more. This isn't to say that escape isn't a viable and completely necessary solution in many occasions, but I think it's fair to say that sometimes being on the bottom has it's advantages, as I'm sure many of you know.
Poll Vote!
Character: Dee Laytner
Series: FAKE
Age: 29
Job: Activities Coordinator
Canon: Dee's a cop for the NYPD's 27th precinct, partnered with newbie Randy "Ryo" MacLean. When they're not on the job, Dee's trying to woo his partner into liking him, which isn't the easiest thing to do...and of course it doesn't help that when Dee manages to get a kiss, he tries to take it a step too far and get in Ryo's pants. This usually results in cockblocking on Ryo's part, or a kick to the face from Bikky, the child that Ryo decided to take care of after his father was killed.
Dee is cocky, overconfident, and has one hell of an attitude. His moods are up and down; he's forever going from loud and inappropriate to serious and calm in the blink of an eye. But he cares deeply for those who are close to him (especially Ryo), and would do pretty much anything for them.
Sample Post:
This has got to be the worst punishment ever. How the hell was I supposed to know he was tallyin' up how many times I've been late? And by the minute? Where does he get off sayin' that I gotta do counselor work at a camp? Hell, what does that have to do with my job in the first place?! I hate you, Chief.
Alright, listen up kiddies. The name's Dee. Not "Mr. Laytner" or "Mr. Dee" or any crap like that. Just Dee, got it? Good. I don't got too many rules or whatever, so as long as you listen to me and don't piss me off, I think we'll all have a damn peachy relationship. And before you ask, yeah, I'm a cop. NYPD, even. Special, ain't it? And that doesn't mean you can be all nice to me, then ask to borrow my gun, because the answer's no, no, and no. I'm not gonna be responsible for you little brats shooting each other, which you shouldn't be doing at all, damnit, or wasting rounds on the gorillas because you're bored. The gun is OFF LIMITS. Capital letters mean Serious Business, so you just forget about it. Yeah, I'm looking at you.
Now that introductions are out of the way, let's get down to it, shall we? I'm your new activities coordinator, so if ya wanna organize some sort of outing into the woods, party, etc, I'm the guy you gotta talk to. I don't know why you'd wanna go out into the woods in the first place, but hey, whatever floats your boat. Just don't go running off without telling me, I don't want to have to organize a search party to find your sorry ass. I don't like hiking or any of that shit, so how about we just forget about organizing anything in the woods at all? Sounds good? I thought so.
Okay, so I know some of you are thinkin' you can organize something like that all by yourself, and you don't need no adult being in charge of your best friend's cousin's sister's party, but the director lady thinks you do, which is why I'm here. It's not because the Chief hates me either, so shut up. I'm not here to ruin anyone's fun so long as you play by the rules. You've been here long enough to know the rules anyway... I heard what happens when you break 'em, and if I get involved in any of that, it's gonna be your ass.
But that doesn't mean I'm a damn babysitter. My partner's in charge of that department. I'm sure when he shows up you'd be able to pick him out to pick on, considerin' how nice a guy he is. Knowin' him, he'd probably adopt a bunch of you like he did with the little snot at home, too. The idiot.
Anyway, I have faith that you kiddies are all pretty smart, so I think that's all I have to tell you. I'm a pretty easy guy to get along with, so long as you don't get on my bad side we'll keep the peace - or whatever you wanna call it - in this lovely place. Any questions can be directed to yours truly, don't hesitate to ask.
Poll Vote!
Character: Hellboy
Series: Hellboy (movie)
Age: 59
Job: Pest Control Officer
Canon: Hellboy was summoned out of the depths of the nether realms by the mad monk Grigori Rasputin to help bring around the end of the world or Ragnarök as he liked to call it. Fatally interrupted by US troops, led by Professor Trevor Broom, adviser to President Truman on supernatural threats and entities, Rasputin left Hellboy to be discovered by the Professor to be adopted. With the help of the same troops, the Professor founded the Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense, BPRD.
Hellboy grew up to be one of the principal members of the BPRD, fighting the supernatural threat to the world and becoming bit of an urban legend in his own right, nearly as inhuman looking as the creatures he fights with a inhumanly large stature, red skin, stubs for horns and a tail.
Sample Post:
I really hate jet packs, you know? Besides the inevitable crash and burn, which seems to happen every single time I use one of the damn things, there's that whole vulnerability aspect. Those few moments when your head is spinning and the zombies and whatever else you guys have around here have a little, brainwave, let's say, and they, oh, close in around you and start getting in your face and all...it gets really ugly, really fast, you know? Plus, there's that first impressions thing--oh look, there's a big red idiot on a jet pack and he's headed right down here at little ol' me--such a bad feeling. This is also about the right time to panic, obviously. Maybe even with those shotguns you all seem to have, since that's the next stage here.
Now, I'd say I was hungry as a bear, but I don't want to provoke you kids and all. Crashed in those caves over there, too. Don't seem like you guys have any normal bears handy! Little stuffed zombie bears, sure. Little too fluffy for my tastes, though, I'd never get the cotton out of my teeth. Plus then I'd spend forever wondering what was to become of me? Would I lose my rosy complexion? These questions and more, the world may never know.
All this aside, I think that Agent Manning must be extremely charmed with me again, didn't expect to land such a special job right after getting back from Russia. Really couldn't have better timing. And here I thought we'd become pals and all and he'd gotten over that whole leaving him behind in a crypt thing. But here I am, with papers--papers! Giving a guy like me papers with orders on it, right--giving me on some sort of "detached duty" here at the apparently scenic "Camp fuck u die". Something here about a "real big pest problem that's right up your alley." Let me tell you, he can be a real funny man! Must remember to thank him when the jobs done.
Oh, I forgot to introduce myself. The name's Hellboy. Don't all of you shoot me at once here. First kid to lower their gun may even get a candy bar. Don't want to appear too needy here or anything!
Poll Vote!
While our goal was to whittle it down to thirty total, we had a really hard time deciding between the last few at the end. Due to how previous batches went, we have added two slots (slots count per character, not application -- we have three more dup characters to go!). 32 total characters will be voted on.
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.
- Please don't speculate on who the apper is!
Now VOTE. Closed~
Character: A.J. Crowley
Series: Good Omens by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett
Age: Appears young, (somewhere between 25-30) but is actually 6000+ years old
Job: Guidance Counselor (though, admittedly, he probably wouldn't be very good at this, as he'd probably guide the campers down The Wrong Path.)
Canon: A.J. Crowley -- a.k.a. Anthony J. Crowley, a.k.a. Crawly (to the demon-folk) -- is Hell's field agent stationed on Earth, and probably the least demonic demon you can find. His idea of "doing evil" is tying-up phone lines in Central London, or giving guns to edgy business men and granting them all miraculous escapes to keep anyone from dying. Despite the fact that he spends his time making their lives a living hell (pun intended), Crowley rather likes humans -- and that sort of thing can get a demon into a great deal of trouble. Then again, trying to avert the Apocalypse is probably higher on the list of "Things the Occult Should Never, Under Any Circumstance, Do."
His interests include drinking fine wines, dining at the Ritz (sometimes with his angelic counterpart and supposed enemy, Aziraphale), driving his 1926 Bentley at impossible speeds, collecting high-tech electronic devices (stereos, televisions, fancy watches, etc), and terrorizing his houseplants gardening. He's entirely cynical because it's his job, along with acquiring souls for his bosses Down Below and causing as much mayhem as possible. Usually, though, he behaves as a wealthy and stylish and suave and just plain cool human.
Sample Post:
So, I just have to say, right off: I've seen a lot of things in my time, both good and bad, both breathtaking and banal, but this camp? Is entirely in a league of its own. In fact, I'd shake the director's hand if it weren't for my overwhelming desire to present the woman with a straitjacket and promptly throw her into an insane asylum. But, really -- flesh-eating zombies? Children with firearms? People getting killed, usually as a consequence of those first two, and then popping back into existence, thanks to the help of little white furry creatures with red pom-poms on their heads (which, I'm sure, is really annoying both the firm I work for and their rival company)? It's utter chaos. And if my front row seat hadn't been dropped into the metaphorical arena during feeding time, I'd absolutely love it.
At least these zombies also make for great stress-relievers. Gotta love that oh-so-satisfying combination of squishing and crunching noises they make when you slam a crowbar into their heads -- which are hard to find sometimes, what with the rotting flesh and the coagulated blood and the squirming maggots. And before anyone gets on my case, I did tell them that if they lurched themselves within ten feet of the Bentley, that I'd have about as much mercy on them as the Guy Upstairs had on Sodom and Gomorrah. I can't be held responsible for the ensuing carnage if this camp has the first documented sighting of suicidal undead. Or if they don't know their Biblical history and didn't understand the reference I made. Either way.
But enough of that, since that unamused gorilla slouching over there is glaring at me -- most likely as a reminder of what I should be talking about, which I definitely ought to get to before it launches itself at me in an off-topic-induced rage. Ahem. Hey, kids (and teens and adults and beings of various ages, sizes, creeds, species, etc.), I'm Crowley, your new camp counselor. Psychic Toucan Sam tells me I'm here to teach you all how to make decisions for yourselves so you'll have a better chance of succeeding in what we in the business like to call The Real World. (Er, not the show; although, just by the way, you're all very welcome for reality television. Aren't your lives so much better for it?)
What the other guidance counselors aren't telling you in order to protect your precious psyches is, leading a good life is directly linked to the connections you can make -- and you know what? Today, as of this very moment, you've made the best connection you ever could in your short lives. If ever you find yourself wanting something that seems completely impossible and beyond your reach? Come find me and I'll see what I can do to help. And all you'll have to do in return is initial in triplicate and sign on the dotted line.
Poll Vote!
Character: Constable Renfield Turnbull
Series: Due South
Age: early 30s
Job: RCMP recruitment and training official! Camp Secretary
Canon: Due South is, 'that show with the cop and the mountie,' neither of which are Renfield Turnbull. While he is a mountie, Turnbull is a character present purely for crack value. You wonder, during most of his scenes, how he made it through the practical/military parts of his training necessary to become a mountie in the first place. He's something like a puppy... cheerful and earnest, and wanting to be liked, but with very little actual intelligence. He appears in Chicago's Canadian Consulate halfway through the series in a mainly secretarial role; he answers phones, redecorates things, guards the front door, and is the official Comic Relief for quite a few episodes. He likes to make himself and his menial duties sound fancy and important... he might call guard duty, for instance, "ensuring the necessary safety of the immediate perimeter!"
Turnbull is a dork, and a textbook mountie... he follows any order he's given by higher ranking officers, can quote the RCMP handbook on command, and more or less hero-worships Constable Benton Fraser, the protagonist of this lovely little series. And I haven't yet mentioned his love for the Queen, for whom he keeps a bedroom prepared at all times, just in case she shows up in Chicago. (This will never happen.)
Turnbull is an obsessive avid fan of curling, loves country western music, and in his spare time he enjoys drawing, painting, and cooking. He also fancies himself a babysitter, but to let him watch your children is just asking for property damage.
Sample Post:
Ahh, summer camp. Not true wilderness, I'm sure you all realize, but rather a more manageable corner of it, just enough of the untamed outdoor experience for youngsters like yourselves. A slice of wilderness, if you will. Yes. Lovely.
I must say, it's wonderful to be out of the city for a spell, breathing fresh air once again! I am Constable Renfield Turnbull, of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, and I will be present for purposes of discipline, recruitment, training, and organization. Organizational mediator is my hired position, of course, but the former duties are those respected by all RCMP. They come with the Serge and Stetson, you might say, and while I'm here if anyone is interested in joining the ranks, they need only talk to me. It feels simply wonderful to be a man or woman in uniform, especially one indicative of your job!
What's that? Err... yes, I suppose an organizational mediator could be called a secretary, and there is appropriate attire for each and every job, but above all else I am an officer. It would be shameful to the RCMP --nay, the Queen herself!-- if I were to appear in public in such a revealing skirt. I would ask you not to suggest such a thing again.
Now! If someone would be so kind as to direct me to the Consulate, I'm sure they've made the necessary preparations, and will be able to settle me at my desk-----pardon? You don't have a Consulate...? Oh, dear. There must be some mistake, am I not at Camp... oh, that is not the name that was given to me at my briefing.
Ah, well, no matter. A Mountie never leaves his post! If there isn't yet a Consulate here, we shall erect one, what do you say? I, as ranking officer, will gladly serve as liason in addition to my other duties. Let's see, what will we need... portraits of the Queen, no doubt; a couch for the sitting room, of course; a tea set; draperies! Such things often go unutilized, I know that's what you're thinking, but I assure you, they add that final touch to an otherwise bare room. I'll just mark off this section of land here, and lucky for you folks I happen to have packed a flag. Let me just step over the line and plant it, claiming this land in the name of--
--there! Welcome to Canada! Since you're all newcomers to our nation, I believe an orientation is in order, as well as some good fun. Is anyone familiar with a sport known as curling?
Poll Vote!
Character: Lucretia Merces
Series: Suikoden V
Age: 31
Job: Conflict Resolution Counselor
Canon: IT WAS FALENA AND WAR WAS BEGINNING. What do you do if your mom looks like she's going crazy and your little sister loves you... maybe a little too much? Oh yes, have a tournament and get her engaged to an older man (who is not you). That's about when the Queendom goes to pot. Suikoden V involves a life or death struggle over the throne of the Queendom of Falena, and a poor Prince's struggle to save it. Lucretia becomes the Prince's strategist over the course of the story.
Lucretia Merces is one of the many in the line of Suikoden tacticians. She is, however, a tactician with a big fan. I'm not just talking about the people who like her. No really. A big feather fan. Lucretia has been a tactician for some time, and has honed her skills. She is quite good at adapting to situations, both in war and those she herself is in. If she believes someone may be coming to kill her, she's more apt to be gracious and inviting, but in her natural state, Lucretia is quite to the point. She doesn't hold back, though she tries to make it sound eloquent. Instead of lying, she'd rather just not give you all the information. She always has many plans going on in the background, many other options that she tries to keep available to her at any time. That said, she would betray you if you're doing something she didn't advise, or if you're doing something she considers the wrong move. She's not afraid of the repercussions, it's just the cost of doing business.
P.S - she really sucks at naming stuff; this is canon. Sadly.
Sample Post:
Oh, a captive, am I? Fine. I'm Lucretia Merces, your new conflict resolution counselor. An amusing term, really. Does my being a tactician scare you? Aah, perhaps it's the director it scares. Regardless, it's fortunate for you campers that I'm here now. Things would be much worse if I wasn't. I won't lie; should the situation arise, I will do what I believe is correct. This may or may not involve betrayal, but it looks more and more likely, employer or no. That's how I ended up in prison the last time. Since I'm already being detained here, well. What do I have to lose now? Besides, there's just so much more peace and quiet when you're being confined, don't you think? This includes the gorillas, zombies, and the rabid geese honking outside. Honest. I can always use some spare feathers for my fan, don't you think?
Here's my assessment of the situation. Could it be that you've been taking this all wrong with your attempts to escape? Perhaps it's time for you to play the Director's game. Use your environment to your advantage. For example, the lake. It's not the lake itself that's remarkable, but the oily residue that floats on the surface. It would be quite an interesting diversion if we were to be attacked, or to catch the director's attention. I do mean, of course, setting it on fire. Though that makes me wonder exactly how long it would burn. Why, it wouldn't surprise me if it had some other properties that even I'm not aware of. An elixir of youth? Perfect on toast? Or perhaps something else entirely. It may be worth looking into; maybe it'll even be something useful.
While I'm on the subject, I find it so unfortunate that the lake has no name. All good battles should have an interesting name associated with them. Therefore it stands to reason that if we do use the lake as an option in battle... I asked the director to allow me to name it, but for some reason, she didn't like my suggestion. Below Rainbow Waters Writhing Tentacles Wait? What do you think?
I suppose my point to all this is that there are so many other options available to you in this situation. Negotiate. Seek compromise. Strike while the iron is hot. The best offense is a good defense. Burn her! Et cetera. I'm sure you've heard so many more. This isn't to say that escape isn't a viable and completely necessary solution in many occasions, but I think it's fair to say that sometimes being on the bottom has it's advantages, as I'm sure many of you know.
Poll Vote!
Character: Dee Laytner
Series: FAKE
Age: 29
Job: Activities Coordinator
Canon: Dee's a cop for the NYPD's 27th precinct, partnered with newbie Randy "Ryo" MacLean. When they're not on the job, Dee's trying to woo his partner into liking him, which isn't the easiest thing to do...and of course it doesn't help that when Dee manages to get a kiss, he tries to take it a step too far and get in Ryo's pants. This usually results in cockblocking on Ryo's part, or a kick to the face from Bikky, the child that Ryo decided to take care of after his father was killed.
Dee is cocky, overconfident, and has one hell of an attitude. His moods are up and down; he's forever going from loud and inappropriate to serious and calm in the blink of an eye. But he cares deeply for those who are close to him (especially Ryo), and would do pretty much anything for them.
Sample Post:
This has got to be the worst punishment ever. How the hell was I supposed to know he was tallyin' up how many times I've been late? And by the minute? Where does he get off sayin' that I gotta do counselor work at a camp? Hell, what does that have to do with my job in the first place?! I hate you, Chief.
Alright, listen up kiddies. The name's Dee. Not "Mr. Laytner" or "Mr. Dee" or any crap like that. Just Dee, got it? Good. I don't got too many rules or whatever, so as long as you listen to me and don't piss me off, I think we'll all have a damn peachy relationship. And before you ask, yeah, I'm a cop. NYPD, even. Special, ain't it? And that doesn't mean you can be all nice to me, then ask to borrow my gun, because the answer's no, no, and no. I'm not gonna be responsible for you little brats shooting each other, which you shouldn't be doing at all, damnit, or wasting rounds on the gorillas because you're bored. The gun is OFF LIMITS. Capital letters mean Serious Business, so you just forget about it. Yeah, I'm looking at you.
Now that introductions are out of the way, let's get down to it, shall we? I'm your new activities coordinator, so if ya wanna organize some sort of outing into the woods, party, etc, I'm the guy you gotta talk to. I don't know why you'd wanna go out into the woods in the first place, but hey, whatever floats your boat. Just don't go running off without telling me, I don't want to have to organize a search party to find your sorry ass. I don't like hiking or any of that shit, so how about we just forget about organizing anything in the woods at all? Sounds good? I thought so.
Okay, so I know some of you are thinkin' you can organize something like that all by yourself, and you don't need no adult being in charge of your best friend's cousin's sister's party, but the director lady thinks you do, which is why I'm here. It's not because the Chief hates me either, so shut up. I'm not here to ruin anyone's fun so long as you play by the rules. You've been here long enough to know the rules anyway... I heard what happens when you break 'em, and if I get involved in any of that, it's gonna be your ass.
But that doesn't mean I'm a damn babysitter. My partner's in charge of that department. I'm sure when he shows up you'd be able to pick him out to pick on, considerin' how nice a guy he is. Knowin' him, he'd probably adopt a bunch of you like he did with the little snot at home, too. The idiot.
Anyway, I have faith that you kiddies are all pretty smart, so I think that's all I have to tell you. I'm a pretty easy guy to get along with, so long as you don't get on my bad side we'll keep the peace - or whatever you wanna call it - in this lovely place. Any questions can be directed to yours truly, don't hesitate to ask.
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Character: Hellboy
Series: Hellboy (movie)
Age: 59
Job: Pest Control Officer
Canon: Hellboy was summoned out of the depths of the nether realms by the mad monk Grigori Rasputin to help bring around the end of the world or Ragnarök as he liked to call it. Fatally interrupted by US troops, led by Professor Trevor Broom, adviser to President Truman on supernatural threats and entities, Rasputin left Hellboy to be discovered by the Professor to be adopted. With the help of the same troops, the Professor founded the Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense, BPRD.
Hellboy grew up to be one of the principal members of the BPRD, fighting the supernatural threat to the world and becoming bit of an urban legend in his own right, nearly as inhuman looking as the creatures he fights with a inhumanly large stature, red skin, stubs for horns and a tail.
Sample Post:
I really hate jet packs, you know? Besides the inevitable crash and burn, which seems to happen every single time I use one of the damn things, there's that whole vulnerability aspect. Those few moments when your head is spinning and the zombies and whatever else you guys have around here have a little, brainwave, let's say, and they, oh, close in around you and start getting in your face and all...it gets really ugly, really fast, you know? Plus, there's that first impressions thing--oh look, there's a big red idiot on a jet pack and he's headed right down here at little ol' me--such a bad feeling. This is also about the right time to panic, obviously. Maybe even with those shotguns you all seem to have, since that's the next stage here.
Now, I'd say I was hungry as a bear, but I don't want to provoke you kids and all. Crashed in those caves over there, too. Don't seem like you guys have any normal bears handy! Little stuffed zombie bears, sure. Little too fluffy for my tastes, though, I'd never get the cotton out of my teeth. Plus then I'd spend forever wondering what was to become of me? Would I lose my rosy complexion? These questions and more, the world may never know.
All this aside, I think that Agent Manning must be extremely charmed with me again, didn't expect to land such a special job right after getting back from Russia. Really couldn't have better timing. And here I thought we'd become pals and all and he'd gotten over that whole leaving him behind in a crypt thing. But here I am, with papers--papers! Giving a guy like me papers with orders on it, right--giving me on some sort of "detached duty" here at the apparently scenic "Camp fuck u die". Something here about a "real big pest problem that's right up your alley." Let me tell you, he can be a real funny man! Must remember to thank him when the jobs done.
Oh, I forgot to introduce myself. The name's Hellboy. Don't all of you shoot me at once here. First kid to lower their gun may even get a candy bar. Don't want to appear too needy here or anything!
Poll Vote!