(no subject)
another rooooooooooound~
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 speculating about the identity of the applicants!
Now VOTE. CLOSED.
Character name: Mushu
Series: Disney's Mulan
Age: At least a couple hundred years old.
Job: Official Gong Ringer Manliness Adviser
Canon: Mulan is a feature length film about independence! Bravery! Friendship! Determination! Honor! And, most of all, crossdressing! In order to protect her aging father, Fa Mulan takes his place in the army, disguising herself as her father's nonexistent son. Horrified by the idea of Mulan being revealed and killed for being a woman, the Fa family ancestors try to send her a guardian to guide her in her masquerade. Unfortunately, things don't work out as planned, and Mulan gets Mushu instead.
A pint-size dragon with a larger-than-life personality (mostly thanks to Eddie Murphy's voice acting), Mushu originally sets out to help Mulan for his own personal gain. Success for Mulan means honor for himself, and after being demoted from the pedestal of family guardian, Mushu needs all the attention he can get. Self-confident, straight forward, and quick to make a joke or snappy come back, Mushu ends up hurting Mulan's cause more than helping it, at least in the beginning. Eventually, he is wooed by Mulan's Disney princess-osity and puts her safety before his own personal aims -- but not without some of that comedic side character commentary.
Sample Entry:
Did I hear someone ask for guidance? Did I hear someone ask for a beacon of light to pierce through the darkness of their miserable life?! You called the right dragon, ain't no question 'bout that -- Mushu the Great, the Terrible, the Magnificent, Bringer of Hope and Truth is here to help you. Whoa, whoa, hey, settle down. Just 'cause you summoned me don't mean you get to be all grabby, we clear? I do the personal space bubble violating around here. Now, what you got for me? A letter from "The Director," huh? All right, all right, give it here. Let's see what Mushu can do for y'all.
...What? Nah, nah, nah. What? "Official Gong Ringer"? You call that a job!? That is an insult! I'll have you know that I've served the Fa family for generations, and -- all right, sure, there were some unforeseen decapitations along the way, but otherwise I've been an outstanding guardian. Send this letter back, man! I don't care how scary your boss lady is, I ain't going back to ringin' no more gongs. From now on, I'm your Manliness Adviser! Yeah, that's right. Traps, sissies, tough guys, I'll take 'em all. You think you're manly now? Just wait 'til I'm through with you! You'll be spittin' off sparks of pure testosterone left and right, haha.
Now, let's see what we got here to work with. Line up, all of you, lemme get a good look at your faces. Square them shoulders! Grit them teeth! I said grit. Grit like your tongue is a wild animal and you gotta keep it in its cage! And make eye contact, man, I don't care if you only got one! Now, listen up, 'cause this is some grade A advice right here. First of all, don't let nobody give you no lip about your hygiene. A man needs to smell like a man -- that is, sweat, biceps, and latent rage. I catch you smellin' like peach blossom or daisies and you're outta here. Soap is for babies and little girls, you hear me? That's right, repeat it to yourself, jam that mantra right in there. "Soap is for babies and little girls, and I am a man." Good, good.
Next point of business: Always remember your man walk. And what comes with man walkin'? That's right, man talkin', and man spittin'. I don't care if your tongue rotted straight outta your mouth and you can't produce saliva no more! I don't got time for your sob stories! Come on, come on, let's see some hocking. The phlegm-ier the better! Work with me here, people! Until you master that man walk combo, as far as I'm concerned, y'all are just a bunch of spooked little snot-nosed babies. Don't make me bust out no gong to prove my point!
Awww, quit your belly achin'. You better get used to this, 'cause we gonna train 'til your arms don't fall off no more. And if that don't work, I got rope, glue, and dragon spit. Don't push me, man! If I hear any more groaning, I'm countin' that as whining, you hear? One more weepy-eyed sniffle and I am telling your ancestors, boy. I'll dishonor you so hard your great great grandkids will be scrubbin' toilet bowls with their heads.
Poll Vote!
Name: Sarah Jane Smith
Series: Doctor Who and The Sarah Jane Adventures
Age: 57
Job: Source of Bizarre (Yet Disturbingly Plausible) Theories
Canon: Once upon a time, there was a doctor -- but not just any doctor. This one, known simply as the Doctor, would take women (and the occasional man) into his unmarked blue police box and show them a life of adventure. ...then he would leave them back in time after a while, making him possibly the worst date ever. Sarah Jane Smith, an investigative journalist, decided that just because she didn't have a TARDIS to travel around in, didn't mean she couldn't have her own adventures. From 13 Bannerman Road, Ealing, Sarah Jane now protects the planet with the aid of a sentient computer, three fourteen year olds and sonic lipstick.
Sarah Jane, an ardent feminist, is confidently spoken, determined and unwilling to let anything stand in her search for truth and justice. Although her initially hardened disposition is softened somewhat through the adoption of her son, Luke, she's still a very steely personality who'll not let any mystery lie. About as unstoppable as a runaway freight train once she's decided on a course of action, it's honestly best just to get out of the way. God only help Luke Smith's teachers during parent-teacher interviews.
Note for the app: Jack Harkness (from Torchwood) is rather famous for being ... well, a bit of an intergalactic tart. His ex-partner wants to shag a poodle. The applicant believes this says it all.
Thank you for hiring me, Ms Sayre. Before my arrival here, I took the time to properly investigate your facility. Your brochure, although very glossy, was somewhat ... less than informative. I'm unable to show you the inadequacies of your advertising material but it would seem that it self destructed after I finished reading. Very curious, wouldn't you say? But that's only the least of the curiousities here.
Are you aware, Ms Sayre, that there is a gigantic cephalopod residing in your lake? A radioactive lake, no less. Strange, I thought that they were unable to tolerate fresh water, requiring ...oh, water with about 3.5% salinity. More commonly known as salt water. As such, it would seem ... rather odd that your cephalopod is able to thrive in such conditions. And not only thrive, but display behaviour more fitting for a drunken sports party. I almost expect it to be wearing Arsenal's colours. No matter, I'm sure there is a perfectly reasonable explanation.
Another thing I found curious were the gorillas. I was under the impression that at best, gorillas were using sign language to communicate. I certainly didn't expect them to be able to talk! And what talkers they are. We had quite the fascinating discussion about bizarre lingual quirks. Yes, yes, I now know what MILF means and you can keep that to yourself. I'm not the Harkness man, after all. Arming the human race for the future ...hmph. You'd do that better with your clothes on. Clearly there would be a perfectly reasonable explanation for this as well. I'm sure.
Finally, the toucans. The telepathic toucans. Who wish to sell me timeshares in "the happiest place on earth". I don't think there would be a rational explanation for them. Normally our illegal activities are conducted by humans and not psychic animals. Of course, you and I know the truth behind these bizarre events, don't you think? It's an alien zoo. And you, Ms Sayre, are in breach of so many violations that it almost makes my head spin. which, of course, leads me as to why I am really here.
If you think that trapping me in a summer camp with hundreds of teenagers will stop me telling the world about your little enterprise, think again. If there's something I have experience in, it's coaching teenagers in dealing with alien threats.
Poll Vote!
Character: Kastor Auberlane
Series: The Kastor Chronicles
Character Age: 25
Job: Riding Instructor
Canon: Kastor Auberlane's life is hard. His world is full of dangers, including dragon-kin, demons, sorcerous circles, meddling gods, his wife, and a race of mostly-insane immortals called Mara. Lucky man that he is, they all seem often as not to be interested in him. Great things are afoot in his world, and willing or not, Kastor gets to play a part in them.
Kastor is a berserker and a poet, gruff and often tactless on the surface but sensitive underneath. A very manly sort, his hobbies include sarcasm, knitting, having terrible luck, cursing in his native language (Che ghanhar is a favorite) being slobbered on by his horse, and going on insane adventures with ridiculously beautiful men who also happen to be ridiculously powerful sorcerers. On one hand, that last part is a good thing because they tend to do things like teleport in from across the world to save his ass; on the other hand he has an unfortunate tendency to fall for them. He's had a busy life so far, having gone from half-feral savage to queen's consort to new father to banished disgrace in the span of two years. Being sent away from his home and his family hurt Kastor deeply, and it's taken him a few years since then to start trying to build a life again. Not, of course, that he likes letting people know much about himself or his past. He's not a good man, but he's not really a bad one; he's a tsundere shounen retard with a twist: he's aware that he can be a self-absorbed jackass and can get over himself. When it's absolutely necessary, anyway.
Sample: Well, this is undignified. I've been dragged up mountains and through forests, blizzards are just fine, and I'm all right with the occasional marsh, but getting dropped ass-first into a swamp isn't my idea of a good start to the day. Now the mule's covered in muck and I've discovered that there's a hole in my left boot. Never teleporting anywhere again, no matter how convincing the arguments are. It's faster, Kastor. I only made that quarter-mile high error in judgment once, Kastor. And for what? Since arriving, I've seen zombies, enormous long-legged chickens, ungodly tentacles creeping out of glowing lakes, metal cows, and some kind of colorful birds that I swear were leering at me. But you know what I haven't seen? Horses. That's going to make my job difficult.
We should probably begin at the beginning, though. I'm Kastor Auberlane, and your Director hired me to be your riding instructor, though I'm not sure what she thinks I'm going to teach you to ride, or where. If there were horses, any kind of hard going through a swamp would lame them. But gold is gold, and if you kids want to learn to ride nonexistent horses through sludge, guess I'm your guy. Assuming I can find the stables...like those ones right over there. So there are--
--carrion eating horses. Efficient, I suppose, since there seems to be a pretty unbalanced ratio of shuffling undead to farmable land. All the same, someone else is mucking out those stalls. I'm not getting paid enough for that. But horses are horses, and we'll all just hope that they don't decide riders are a sometimes food. Or that the riders are too undead to notice. So let's get started. Everyone interested, over here.
...all right, we need to establish a few ground rules. At the risk of sounding speciesist, the following groups are not eligible: gorillas, because they don't have the thighs for it; anything bigger than a horse, for obvious reasons; and those damnable birds, because I am not for riding. And let's add to that list anyone who can't keep their heads on straight. Yes, especially you over there. Che ghanhar, people! You can't ride with your head twisted all the way around like that. Or on your lap. And you absolutely cannot ride with your head in someone else's lap. Especially facing in that direction. It's not just distracting, it's also dangerous, especially considering the--teeth. As our friend has so kindly demonstrated. Moving on! Having all your limbs is a plus, but it's not strictly necessary. If you can stay on the horse, you one-legged folks can steer with reins, and you one-armed folks can use your legs, but horsemanship does require a functioning brain.
Well, hey. Looks like I might not have that much to do around here after all.
Poll Vote!
Character: Dark Ace
Job: Sword Fighting Instructor
Series: Storm Hawks
Character Age: Late twenties
Canon: The world of Atmos is where the battle between good and evil is fought between Sky Knights and Talons. It has been ten years since the legendary Sky Knight squadron, the Storm Hawks, was wiped out by the Cyclonians and it looks like they're ready to finish the job with the rest of Atmos! But now that a bunch of kids claiming to be the new Storm Hawks have shown up, the Cyclonians have got their hands full. No matter what the obstacles, the Dark Ace remains determined to take Atmos down and even more so in destroying the Storm Hawks legacy once and for all.
The Dark Ace, easily the best Talon of Cyclonia. For years, the Dark Ace had been one of the most feared names in all of Atmos ever since he singlehandedly destroyed the old Storm Hawks. But that is hardly the only reason for his infamy; he is also cunning and untrustworthy as he is very willing to use any means necessary to obtain what he wants, no matter the cost. However, even if he does not succeed, he is also very determined and will continue to strive for his goals even in the face of death. The Dark Ace shows no mercy (or claims to. He fails a lot in this regard) in battle and will go out of his way to crush his opponents, especially Aerrow. Despite being renowned for his treacherous and harsh nature, the Dark Ace is fiercely loyal to Master Cyclonis, the empress of Cyclonia.
Note - Dark Ace has a habit of emphasizing certain words to show his disgust, boredom and to sound impressive. Also, Terras are the given name for continent/country areas in Atmos. For example, Terra Atmos, Terra Sahar, etc.
Sample Post:
I'm the Dark Ace, champion of Cyclonia, and Master Cyclonis's most trusted Talon -- not a camp counselor. I've never even been to camp before, much less babysat! Spending a majority of your adulthood fighting in a war does that to you. I just know someone is laughing at me right now and-Hey! You there! If you value your limbs you will shut up immediately before I introduce you to my friend, Mr. Sharp-Glowing-Red-Sword-Of-Destruction. I'm a trained soldier, not to mention your new sword fighting instructor, so I can do that you know. Yes, Mr. Sharp-Glowing-Red-Sword-Of-Destruction is powered by that scary looking red crystal--Hey, don't you dare touch my jewels!
Much better.
Alright, I'll admit right now that I never intended to come to this…Terra "Seafuud" in the first place, but according to Master Cyclonis, I "needed a vacation". Although why she ever got that notion into her head, I will never know. Just because I spend nineteen hours a day planning different ways to torture a certain little brat Sky Knight with an incinerator doesn't mean I'm obsessed or anything , just…very determined. Anyway, that's what I'm here at Terra Seafuud to do: have a vacation. Even if it means playing counselor to a bunch of undead campers. Honestly though, giving sharp, pointy weapons to a pack of way too overactive and underage brats? Is nothing short of brilliance. If that's what this Director wants me to do, then why should I care if someone goes crazy and commits mass murder? Ha! It should be quite a show.
So, I guess the first lesson today is how to hold a sword the right way without endangering your person too much. Or your allies for that matter. Unless they're stupid enough to get hurt. Then it's fine. Here, see this handle? That's right, it's called the hilt and you wrap your hand around it like this-no, not the blade, the hilt. Man, you people are useless. Seriously, you do NOT want to hold the blade like that. See? I told you. You're lucky you lost just one finger instead of two. Anyway, you rest your hand against the pommel, that's the little round thing at the end of the hilt. There you go-hey! Stop that swinging you two! I'm warning you-oh. That definitely had to hurt. It looks like they're actually going to be fine, despite the missing limbs. First time I've seen heads roll like that. Alright, I suppose that concludes our lesson today. Tomorrow we'll work not chopping off our heads while swinging a sword. It's so hard, I know. Now go away and find something shiny to look at. Though, if you keep staring at my jewels like that, it'll be the last thing you'll ever see. Remember, I show no mercy.
Poll Vote!
Character: Petros Orsini
Series: Trinity Blood (manga)
Character Age: ~29
Job: Peacekeeper
Canon: By about the 31st century, humanity has established an uneasy peace with the vampire-like race known as Methuselah. But as the latter feeds on the blood on the former, there are plenty of cases where a rogue vampire attacks a human. That's when the Vatican's Department of the Inquisition, a group of elite fighters trained to destroy these individuals, steps in.
Brother Petros is the head of the department, and he's everything you could want in the chief of a Shoot First, Maybe Ask Questions Later vampire elimination group. On the battlefield, he is ruthless, dedicated, and so enthusiastic about his mission that he's called the "Knight of Destruction" because he'll take out his own allies by mistake. Off the battlefield, however, he keeps his energy down. Although not the sharpest knife in the drawer, Petros is polite, respectful, a bit of a stickler about orders, and completely devoted to God and the holy mission. But he's also a dorky shounen retard who runs nuns over in the hallway, gets irritated when his pre-battle speech is interrupted by gunshots, believes that the quickest way to peacekeeping is with a gigantic tank, and is prone to calling everyone and their mother a "HERETIC!1!!1!" before attempting to kill them. Watch out when he's annoyed; the giant rotating spear he uses as a weapon is nothing to joke about.
Sample app:
Listen up, you lot! The Knight of Destruction, Brother Petros, Chief of the Department of the Inquisition has arrived and I would like your undivided attention for the few minutes it will take for me to introduce myself. I've been posted to Camp Fuck You Die after reports of a serious conflict between two groups reached my department. And since they've called me in, I'm not expecting this to be easy. You'll find I'm not soft with my methods. But despite your three years of fighting, I'm certain we can find a solid solution of peace that works for everyone.
And just to make it clear for everyone involved, I am not taking sides in this argument. The peacekeeper needs to be impartial, correct? Besides, if it were up to me, you'd all be under arrest as godless heretics! Look at you! Is that appropriate attire for a true servant of the Church?! Your body is nearly skeletal and your stench is horrendous! And don't even get me started on the other offending party; outlandish purple fur has never been acceptable attire for Sunday worship. But... since I am God's devout servant and He has not seen fit to strike you down, I will let these hideous transgressions pass for now. However, since I am God's devout servant, if you show the slightest hint of heresy I will act as the medium for His righteous wrath upon your heads! Are we clear? Good! Now, I'd like one representative from the Zion-Be party to step forward and list your grievances. You don't have to kneel; this isn't a confessional. And there is no need to - WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU ARE SPEAKING my ears are up here, thank you. That's more like it. You can put your face away now, I've got the picture.
The dispute is one of territory! I'm no stranger to this what with all the heretics and vampires and heretical vampires infringing on the Vatican's land, so listen very carefully to me. This is the code that the soldiers of the Inquisition have abided by faithfully for years: DO NOT BACK DOWN! To concede to the enemy is to admit defeat before the battle begins! Stand strong, stand tall, and lean on the man next to you if your legs give out! Form a phalanx, men, and beat the hairy purple enemy off by hand when they're within range. And since I'm the unbiased mediator, purple group! Grab their bones and make them groan! Engage your adversary before he engages you - klsjadkg AND NOT LIKE THAT! Didn't you fools even hear me?! What about the saying "Make war, not love" do you not understand?
Okay, that's it. No real man of God would blatantly ignore the orders of this glorious knight. I'm arresting everyone here on the crime of HERESY! In the name of the one true God - and for you heretics, in the name of Article Seven of my contract, which allows me to use any means necessary to complete my mission, up to and including the use of physical force - prepare for DIVINE PUNISHMENT!
Three can keep the peace if two of them are dead, after all.
Poll Vote!
Character Name: Tony Stark A.K.A. "Iron Man"
Series: Marvel Universe (616)
Job: Engineering Instructor
Character Age: 30-40 something (lol retcons)
Canon: Tony Stark: the man, the myth, the playboy. Named as one of the top ten most intelligent fictional comic characters by BusinessWeek, he was a child prodigy born into a wealthy family, his father being head of Stark Industries. He inherited the family business after his parents died in a fatal car crash, and helped design experimental weapons and equipment for the military. Despite his genius, he is also very charismatic and out-going, with a charming smile to compliment his quick wit.
During an excursion to a Stark weapons test in Vietnam Afghanistan, he is wounded during a Taliban attack and captured, then forced to build a weapon for them. Along with assistance from another prisoner, an elderly man by the name of Yinsen, he manages to create an apparatus that keeps some shrapnel from entering Tony's heart. As part of a daring escape scheme, they also created a suit of armor that Tony would wear, creating a path of destruction and fleeing. Tony made it, Yinsen didn't, and was later filmed being executed.
Upon returning to civilization, he began perfecting his "Iron Man" suit, designing hundreds of variations and upgrades, and as of current he injected the "Extremis" virus into his system. This essentially makes him a cyborg (internally) and allows him to directly connect his armor to his nervous system, and also gives him an increased healing factor and the ability to communicate with electronic equipment by thought. The public was left in the dark about Tony Stark's dual identity, having convinced them that Iron Man was his bodyguard and became his corporate mascot. Having battled everything from wannabe Gods, to alcoholism, to his own friend Captain America, there isn't much Tony Stark hasn't done as Iron Man. He is currently serving as Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. (a group that protects the world from numerous high-level threats), as well as checking up on the progress Camp Hammond is making, where superhuman recruits are training for everyday combat as part of The Initiative program.
Sample Post:
[ System Rebooting . . . ]
Ughh... a hangover without the booze. That's harsh. Alright, standard blackout protocol. What's the last thing I remember? Flying. Great, flying where? ...In the sky. Okay, this isn't working. What's the last thing I drank? Mountain Dew. Okay, so this isn't a relapse, just a possible case of getting jacked up on what legally can be called soda. Any women? Not recently, unfortunately. Alright, how about baddies? None. Or at least, none that confronted me directly. Let's check my handy-dandy on-board camera and see what my last visuals were... [ File Corrupted! ] ...this is becoming an increasingly unsuccessful endeavor. Whatever knocked me out, it must've been stronger than an electromagnetic pulse in order to make my systems all wonky. Alright, since the GPS systems are erroring out on me, let me try and link to any nearby satellite. Hmm~ -YEOW! Whatever is shrouding this area, it just gave my brain a kick in the sack.
Well, my thrusters work well enough, so let's do some good old fashioned flying and scout the place out. [ Scanning... 4 Target(s) Found! ] Hello there! [ Unable to Identify Targets, No Weapons Detected. ] ...oh, crap. Two zombies, a rock monster, and a vegetable monster. I think I saw this movie once. Alright, the two zombies are pretty much walking vegetables, so they're not going to have any quick attacks, and the vegetable monster is... literally a walking vegetable. That leaves you, Rocky. How about you taste this blast from my repulsor ra- [ Error. ] My weapons systems are still offline? I don't suppose I can just kick you in the nuts and run away, right? Alright, Plan C. [ Thrusters Maximum. ] Adios! No point in getting smacked around by Pebbles over there, my priority right now is finding out where on Earth I am, which is also assuming this is still Earth. Also, note to self: stop making cracks about getting kicked in the nuts. Twice in one hour? My quips are almost getting as bad as Spider-Man's. [ Note recorded. ] ...Okay, I didn't mean that literally, but let's keep it for future reference.
The view may be prettier up here, but that's not saying much. I'm detecting high humidity levels, and judging by the location of the sun right now I would say that I'm somewhere down south in the States. So I'm still in the homeland, that's good. But I don't see a Wal-Mart or a McDonald's, or a Wal-Mart with a McDonald's inside, so that worries me. I can't really see the ocean at this height, so that eliminates most of Florida, but the temperature levels tell me that I'm still near the Gulf. Good enough for me. It'd be nice to get a higher look, but I'm not confident this suit could survive another seizure like that, and I'd rather not slam the back of my head into the ground again unless there's a woman involved.
Ah, that's more like it, I see what appears to be a colony up ahead. I think that's a sign over there, this will help tremendously. [ Magnify 250% ] Camp... Camp... [ Magnify 500% ] Camp Fu-wow, they cut right to the chase here, don't they! How about we search for any data on the internal hard drives for "Camp Fuck U Die". [ No Results Found. ] Unfortunate, but... I am detecting some sort of device within the camp, so I will have some words with it.
...And things just took another interesting turn! It seems this camp is looking for some counselors. They seem pretty flexible in terms of counselor jobs, and since I'm probably not going to be going anywhere for a while, there's no harm in enlightening a few kids in the meantime. Hell, I'm a walking science project as it is, I'm sure I could teach these kids how to make a bug zapper that runs on Cheetos or something. And from what this machine is telling me, engineering would be a slightly less bogus occupation than the ones some of the other counselors here already have. Note to self: if they're not interested in an Engineer, inquire about possibly becoming one of the camp's Bikini Inspectors; I spy some pretty ladies over there. [ Note recorded. ]
...Okay, now you're just turning this into a bad Abbott & Costello act.
Poll Vote!
Character: Hal "Otacon" Emmerich
Series: The Metal Gear series
Character Age: approx. mid 30s
Job: Grief Counselor
Canon: The Metal Gear series is an amalgamation of James Bond, Escape from New York, and creator Hideo Kojima's bizarre love for plot twists, hijinks, nonexistent fourth walls, and poo jokes. Otacon makes his first appearance in Metal Gear Solid, when he's being attacked by a masochistic cyborg ninja and peeing his pants from terror. He goes on to ask Solid Snake, Our Tactical Espionage Action Man, if he's an "otaku too"; and is horrified to learn that the giant mobile robot he designed and helped build wasn't going to be used by the government for defense (...like in his favorite anime), but instead was going to be used to launch nuclear missiles.
Basically, Otacon is a huge nerd thrown into an epic battle for world domination. He serves as the brains guy to Snake's brawn, and while he's bumbling and nervous -- and mostly hero-worships Snake -- in MGS1; by MGS2 he's gained enough of a backbone to nag Snake about his cigarettes, completely butcher philosophical quotes at Snake when he tries to save, and become a real partner... as opposed to being just the nerdy guy who advises Snake via codec and gives him shiny gadgets.
That being said, Otacon is still bumbling and nervous and sort of hero-worships Snake. He's ridiculously receptive to women who show him any amount of positive attention. He's got a tragic emo past involving his step-mom that leaves the majority of people staring stupidly at their televisions. Everyone he ever loves dies. And he's still kind, awkward, optimistic, naive, and a huge nerd -- only now he's devoted to destroying the very thing he helped create: Metal Gear.
Note: Otacon is being apped from circa MGS2.
Sample Post:
Hey, uh. Hi everybody. You'll have to forgive me -- I'm really not used to talking in front of such large groups, I. My name is Dr. Hal Emmerich, and I'm here on special assignment. I received an email a little while ago with a request that I come here and give a presentation on, uh, how was it phrased? Right -- "Dealing with Grief and Its Consequences". It's not something I'm very well-versed in -- talking about, I mean, but I guess I'm not really... Anyway. I think this could be a really productive meeting, if we all contribute.
Everyone knows about Kübler-Ross's Five Stages of Grief: Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, and Acceptance. When I talked to the director, she made it very clear to me that I was, uh, to skip the "denial" stage and go straight to the "anger", but I think each step is an important part of dealing with grief. There's this memory I have, from when I was younger... I was sitting in the dark, and even though I'd gone with a couple of my neighbors it seemed like I was completely alone. The moment is etched in my mind. Prime had Megatron down for the count, but Hot Rod interfered and Megatron gained the upper hand. I remember watching in horror as he shot him. Megatron fell off a cliff, and Hot Rod was okay, but Prime was... When the Autobots returned to their base, Prime became one with the matrix and passed on the mantle of power to Ultra Magnus.
At the time, it was impossible. I was stunned. Optimus Prime couldn't die, he was Optimus Prime. I felt like I'd been betrayed by one of my best friends. Soon enough I was mad at Hot Rod for getting in the way: it was his fault, after all, that Prime hadn't been able to shoot Megatron. Megatron took advantage of the situation, but it was all because of Hot Rod trying to be cool. When I finally reached the "bargaining" stage, I was ready for anything. Optimus Prime's cognizance could be transferred into a different body; he could be rebuilt; someone could excavate his remains and use his body as a bargaining chip against the Autobots... and then Prime was brought back to life in the third season. Er.
Aha. ... Maybe this wasn't the best example.
But, um, you see my point. Sometimes it takes time to adjust to someone's death, but you just need to be aware of what you're going through and that it's a process millions of people have undergone before. What's really important to remember is that the "depression" stage is probably the most labor intensive of them all. Your life meter will begin to fall -- the rate will depend on what's affecting you -- and you'll need to press the action button rapidly to restore lost health. This normally only lasts for about thirty seconds in a cutscene though, so just be on the look-out for it.
After you've gotten through the first four stages, the last one's easy. It's not even a stage so much as it is a "state of being". There's an old Chinese proverb about this... "Waiting for a rabbit to hit upon a tree and be killed in order to catch it." Which is basically saying that you shouldn't wait for something else to come along and kill the rabbit for you -- or that you have to do these things for yourself or else. Or else something undefined but vaguely threatening will happen to you. Uh.
... Wouldn't it be easier to just let the rabbit kill itself?
Poll Vote!
Character: Solid Snake.
Series: The Metal Gear series.
Character Age: 38. This number brought to you by a timeline that was probably written on a used cocktail napkin.
Job: Mandatory Man of Mystery.
Canon: The Metal Gear series is not so much a series of stealth-thmed video games as it is an ongoing interactive movie that rewards dedicated viewer participation with life-size crocodile hats, shotguns that unleash typhoons, naked cartwheels, and the fun of an engaging and convoluted story line that refuses to take itself seriously.
Since the first Metal Gear game was released in 1987, the protagonist of the series has (almost) always been one Solid Snake, a highly-trained tactical espionage agent proficient in hand-to-hand combat, Shooting Every Firearm Ever Made, and maintaining a tight butt up to and including the age of seventy. Snake also specializes in constantly being screwed over by the world he's dedicated his life to protecting and shrugging off the emotional weight of these betrayals like they were water off a very sneaky duck.
While Snake has no compunctions about killing when on a mission, he definitely fights only for the greater good and maintains that no matter how bad someone's had it in their life, they still have the power to change themselves despite how preordained their fates may seem to be. Snake can't stop himself from fighting endlessly, as that's all he's ever known, but he can change why he fights. This is what the Metal Gear Solid series is really about: the very personal freedom of choice.
... that, and the complete fact that cardboard boxes could totally save you from a nuclear holocaust, and also that it's great fun breaking the fourth wall until it is a small pile of rubble at your feet. Want to contact someone or save your game? A character will tell you to press the select button to open up the menu with their radio frequency. Want to defeat this BDSM-themed psychic boss? Follow the game's advice about switching controller ports on your game system to outsmart the bastard. You and Snake are in this together, baby, so throw away that useless manual! ... but not the CD case.
Sample Post:
CODEC frequency <<140.96>> has no response... huh. I'll try <<141.12>>... maybe <<145.73>>? ... still nothing. Great. Guess I'll need to save my own updated files and send them to myself. <<141.80>> it is.
I arrived at the enemy base at 0400. According to our intelligence, this was supposed to leave me with two hours to map possible escape routes before the base patrol started their rounds, but the first shift started early; when I breached the first wall, there were already some lower-rank goons wandering around. Poor bastards are stuck in purple fur-coat uniforms and stood out like a couple of sore thumbs. No idea if the heat got to them or what, but they wouldn't have stood a chance at noticing me even without the Stealth Camouflage equipped. I thought the team in this place were supposed to be elite. Or was it elitist? Whatever.
Second wall was passed without any issue. At the third wall I had some local birds threatening to give away my position, but tranq darts from the MK 22 shut them up pretty quick as soon as I could concentrate and aim. Someone taught them that damn song about dancing with... caramels... that Otacon has as a ringtone! Even the cardboard box I found wasn't strong enough to drown it out! And since I know he'd be wondering, no, Otacon. I didn't kill any of the animals... but something with big teeth better have come along after I left and finished the job, that's all I'm saying. They did look kind of tasty.
At the fourth wall I stopped for a cigarette -- no comments from the peanuthead gallery about the good surgeon general's warning, thanks -- when I thought the coast was clear. That was... a rookie mistake, I can admit it. Got too cocky, just like a kid. I was spotted, almost compromising the whole mission. I guess my player -- that is, my id didn't have its head in the game today. But that didn't even matter; for whatever reason, none of the soldiers that saw me raised an alert. My reveal didn't even warrant a caution, which is... strange. Unprecedented. Either I wasn't taken as a threat or this "director" we're after really did a number with her gene therapy program. The soldiers couldn't even form whole sentences, just moans and groans. Kind of spooky, actually.
That's really all that's different from the last saved file to report. I did find a new gun (definitely a type of shotgun, don't know what I can use it for yet) and a pair of thermal goggles (that do nothing, what the hell). I also updated the, ah. Bunny collection with a new magazine. That's everything that's changed, I guess. I'm not really good at saving my own ga-- heh. My own information.
Update of mission files complete. Solid Snake out.
Poll Vote!
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 speculating about the identity of the applicants!
Now VOTE. CLOSED.
Character name: Mushu
Series: Disney's Mulan
Age: At least a couple hundred years old.
Job: Official Gong Ringer Manliness Adviser
Canon: Mulan is a feature length film about independence! Bravery! Friendship! Determination! Honor! And, most of all, crossdressing! In order to protect her aging father, Fa Mulan takes his place in the army, disguising herself as her father's nonexistent son. Horrified by the idea of Mulan being revealed and killed for being a woman, the Fa family ancestors try to send her a guardian to guide her in her masquerade. Unfortunately, things don't work out as planned, and Mulan gets Mushu instead.
A pint-size dragon with a larger-than-life personality (mostly thanks to Eddie Murphy's voice acting), Mushu originally sets out to help Mulan for his own personal gain. Success for Mulan means honor for himself, and after being demoted from the pedestal of family guardian, Mushu needs all the attention he can get. Self-confident, straight forward, and quick to make a joke or snappy come back, Mushu ends up hurting Mulan's cause more than helping it, at least in the beginning. Eventually, he is wooed by Mulan's Disney princess-osity and puts her safety before his own personal aims -- but not without some of that comedic side character commentary.
Sample Entry:
Did I hear someone ask for guidance? Did I hear someone ask for a beacon of light to pierce through the darkness of their miserable life?! You called the right dragon, ain't no question 'bout that -- Mushu the Great, the Terrible, the Magnificent, Bringer of Hope and Truth is here to help you. Whoa, whoa, hey, settle down. Just 'cause you summoned me don't mean you get to be all grabby, we clear? I do the personal space bubble violating around here. Now, what you got for me? A letter from "The Director," huh? All right, all right, give it here. Let's see what Mushu can do for y'all.
...What? Nah, nah, nah. What? "Official Gong Ringer"? You call that a job!? That is an insult! I'll have you know that I've served the Fa family for generations, and -- all right, sure, there were some unforeseen decapitations along the way, but otherwise I've been an outstanding guardian. Send this letter back, man! I don't care how scary your boss lady is, I ain't going back to ringin' no more gongs. From now on, I'm your Manliness Adviser! Yeah, that's right. Traps, sissies, tough guys, I'll take 'em all. You think you're manly now? Just wait 'til I'm through with you! You'll be spittin' off sparks of pure testosterone left and right, haha.
Now, let's see what we got here to work with. Line up, all of you, lemme get a good look at your faces. Square them shoulders! Grit them teeth! I said grit. Grit like your tongue is a wild animal and you gotta keep it in its cage! And make eye contact, man, I don't care if you only got one! Now, listen up, 'cause this is some grade A advice right here. First of all, don't let nobody give you no lip about your hygiene. A man needs to smell like a man -- that is, sweat, biceps, and latent rage. I catch you smellin' like peach blossom or daisies and you're outta here. Soap is for babies and little girls, you hear me? That's right, repeat it to yourself, jam that mantra right in there. "Soap is for babies and little girls, and I am a man." Good, good.
Next point of business: Always remember your man walk. And what comes with man walkin'? That's right, man talkin', and man spittin'. I don't care if your tongue rotted straight outta your mouth and you can't produce saliva no more! I don't got time for your sob stories! Come on, come on, let's see some hocking. The phlegm-ier the better! Work with me here, people! Until you master that man walk combo, as far as I'm concerned, y'all are just a bunch of spooked little snot-nosed babies. Don't make me bust out no gong to prove my point!
Awww, quit your belly achin'. You better get used to this, 'cause we gonna train 'til your arms don't fall off no more. And if that don't work, I got rope, glue, and dragon spit. Don't push me, man! If I hear any more groaning, I'm countin' that as whining, you hear? One more weepy-eyed sniffle and I am telling your ancestors, boy. I'll dishonor you so hard your great great grandkids will be scrubbin' toilet bowls with their heads.
Poll Vote!
Name: Sarah Jane Smith
Series: Doctor Who and The Sarah Jane Adventures
Age: 57
Job: Source of Bizarre (Yet Disturbingly Plausible) Theories
Canon: Once upon a time, there was a doctor -- but not just any doctor. This one, known simply as the Doctor, would take women (and the occasional man) into his unmarked blue police box and show them a life of adventure. ...then he would leave them back in time after a while, making him possibly the worst date ever. Sarah Jane Smith, an investigative journalist, decided that just because she didn't have a TARDIS to travel around in, didn't mean she couldn't have her own adventures. From 13 Bannerman Road, Ealing, Sarah Jane now protects the planet with the aid of a sentient computer, three fourteen year olds and sonic lipstick.
Sarah Jane, an ardent feminist, is confidently spoken, determined and unwilling to let anything stand in her search for truth and justice. Although her initially hardened disposition is softened somewhat through the adoption of her son, Luke, she's still a very steely personality who'll not let any mystery lie. About as unstoppable as a runaway freight train once she's decided on a course of action, it's honestly best just to get out of the way. God only help Luke Smith's teachers during parent-teacher interviews.
Note for the app: Jack Harkness (from Torchwood) is rather famous for being ... well, a bit of an intergalactic tart. His ex-partner wants to shag a poodle. The applicant believes this says it all.
Thank you for hiring me, Ms Sayre. Before my arrival here, I took the time to properly investigate your facility. Your brochure, although very glossy, was somewhat ... less than informative. I'm unable to show you the inadequacies of your advertising material but it would seem that it self destructed after I finished reading. Very curious, wouldn't you say? But that's only the least of the curiousities here.
Are you aware, Ms Sayre, that there is a gigantic cephalopod residing in your lake? A radioactive lake, no less. Strange, I thought that they were unable to tolerate fresh water, requiring ...oh, water with about 3.5% salinity. More commonly known as salt water. As such, it would seem ... rather odd that your cephalopod is able to thrive in such conditions. And not only thrive, but display behaviour more fitting for a drunken sports party. I almost expect it to be wearing Arsenal's colours. No matter, I'm sure there is a perfectly reasonable explanation.
Another thing I found curious were the gorillas. I was under the impression that at best, gorillas were using sign language to communicate. I certainly didn't expect them to be able to talk! And what talkers they are. We had quite the fascinating discussion about bizarre lingual quirks. Yes, yes, I now know what MILF means and you can keep that to yourself. I'm not the Harkness man, after all. Arming the human race for the future ...hmph. You'd do that better with your clothes on. Clearly there would be a perfectly reasonable explanation for this as well. I'm sure.
Finally, the toucans. The telepathic toucans. Who wish to sell me timeshares in "the happiest place on earth". I don't think there would be a rational explanation for them. Normally our illegal activities are conducted by humans and not psychic animals. Of course, you and I know the truth behind these bizarre events, don't you think? It's an alien zoo. And you, Ms Sayre, are in breach of so many violations that it almost makes my head spin. which, of course, leads me as to why I am really here.
If you think that trapping me in a summer camp with hundreds of teenagers will stop me telling the world about your little enterprise, think again. If there's something I have experience in, it's coaching teenagers in dealing with alien threats.
Poll Vote!
Character: Kastor Auberlane
Series: The Kastor Chronicles
Character Age: 25
Job: Riding Instructor
Canon: Kastor Auberlane's life is hard. His world is full of dangers, including dragon-kin, demons, sorcerous circles, meddling gods, his wife, and a race of mostly-insane immortals called Mara. Lucky man that he is, they all seem often as not to be interested in him. Great things are afoot in his world, and willing or not, Kastor gets to play a part in them.
Kastor is a berserker and a poet, gruff and often tactless on the surface but sensitive underneath. A very manly sort, his hobbies include sarcasm, knitting, having terrible luck, cursing in his native language (Che ghanhar is a favorite) being slobbered on by his horse, and going on insane adventures with ridiculously beautiful men who also happen to be ridiculously powerful sorcerers. On one hand, that last part is a good thing because they tend to do things like teleport in from across the world to save his ass; on the other hand he has an unfortunate tendency to fall for them. He's had a busy life so far, having gone from half-feral savage to queen's consort to new father to banished disgrace in the span of two years. Being sent away from his home and his family hurt Kastor deeply, and it's taken him a few years since then to start trying to build a life again. Not, of course, that he likes letting people know much about himself or his past. He's not a good man, but he's not really a bad one; he's a tsundere shounen retard with a twist: he's aware that he can be a self-absorbed jackass and can get over himself. When it's absolutely necessary, anyway.
Sample: Well, this is undignified. I've been dragged up mountains and through forests, blizzards are just fine, and I'm all right with the occasional marsh, but getting dropped ass-first into a swamp isn't my idea of a good start to the day. Now the mule's covered in muck and I've discovered that there's a hole in my left boot. Never teleporting anywhere again, no matter how convincing the arguments are. It's faster, Kastor. I only made that quarter-mile high error in judgment once, Kastor. And for what? Since arriving, I've seen zombies, enormous long-legged chickens, ungodly tentacles creeping out of glowing lakes, metal cows, and some kind of colorful birds that I swear were leering at me. But you know what I haven't seen? Horses. That's going to make my job difficult.
We should probably begin at the beginning, though. I'm Kastor Auberlane, and your Director hired me to be your riding instructor, though I'm not sure what she thinks I'm going to teach you to ride, or where. If there were horses, any kind of hard going through a swamp would lame them. But gold is gold, and if you kids want to learn to ride nonexistent horses through sludge, guess I'm your guy. Assuming I can find the stables...like those ones right over there. So there are--
--carrion eating horses. Efficient, I suppose, since there seems to be a pretty unbalanced ratio of shuffling undead to farmable land. All the same, someone else is mucking out those stalls. I'm not getting paid enough for that. But horses are horses, and we'll all just hope that they don't decide riders are a sometimes food. Or that the riders are too undead to notice. So let's get started. Everyone interested, over here.
...all right, we need to establish a few ground rules. At the risk of sounding speciesist, the following groups are not eligible: gorillas, because they don't have the thighs for it; anything bigger than a horse, for obvious reasons; and those damnable birds, because I am not for riding. And let's add to that list anyone who can't keep their heads on straight. Yes, especially you over there. Che ghanhar, people! You can't ride with your head twisted all the way around like that. Or on your lap. And you absolutely cannot ride with your head in someone else's lap. Especially facing in that direction. It's not just distracting, it's also dangerous, especially considering the--teeth. As our friend has so kindly demonstrated. Moving on! Having all your limbs is a plus, but it's not strictly necessary. If you can stay on the horse, you one-legged folks can steer with reins, and you one-armed folks can use your legs, but horsemanship does require a functioning brain.
Well, hey. Looks like I might not have that much to do around here after all.
Poll Vote!
Character: Dark Ace
Job: Sword Fighting Instructor
Series: Storm Hawks
Character Age: Late twenties
Canon: The world of Atmos is where the battle between good and evil is fought between Sky Knights and Talons. It has been ten years since the legendary Sky Knight squadron, the Storm Hawks, was wiped out by the Cyclonians and it looks like they're ready to finish the job with the rest of Atmos! But now that a bunch of kids claiming to be the new Storm Hawks have shown up, the Cyclonians have got their hands full. No matter what the obstacles, the Dark Ace remains determined to take Atmos down and even more so in destroying the Storm Hawks legacy once and for all.
The Dark Ace, easily the best Talon of Cyclonia. For years, the Dark Ace had been one of the most feared names in all of Atmos ever since he singlehandedly destroyed the old Storm Hawks. But that is hardly the only reason for his infamy; he is also cunning and untrustworthy as he is very willing to use any means necessary to obtain what he wants, no matter the cost. However, even if he does not succeed, he is also very determined and will continue to strive for his goals even in the face of death. The Dark Ace shows no mercy (or claims to. He fails a lot in this regard) in battle and will go out of his way to crush his opponents, especially Aerrow. Despite being renowned for his treacherous and harsh nature, the Dark Ace is fiercely loyal to Master Cyclonis, the empress of Cyclonia.
Note - Dark Ace has a habit of emphasizing certain words to show his disgust, boredom and to sound impressive. Also, Terras are the given name for continent/country areas in Atmos. For example, Terra Atmos, Terra Sahar, etc.
Sample Post:
I'm the Dark Ace, champion of Cyclonia, and Master Cyclonis's most trusted Talon -- not a camp counselor. I've never even been to camp before, much less babysat! Spending a majority of your adulthood fighting in a war does that to you. I just know someone is laughing at me right now and-Hey! You there! If you value your limbs you will shut up immediately before I introduce you to my friend, Mr. Sharp-Glowing-Red-Sword-Of-Destruction. I'm a trained soldier, not to mention your new sword fighting instructor, so I can do that you know. Yes, Mr. Sharp-Glowing-Red-Sword-Of-Destruction is powered by that scary looking red crystal--Hey, don't you dare touch my jewels!
Much better.
Alright, I'll admit right now that I never intended to come to this…Terra "Seafuud" in the first place, but according to Master Cyclonis, I "needed a vacation". Although why she ever got that notion into her head, I will never know. Just because I spend nineteen hours a day planning different ways to torture a certain little brat Sky Knight with an incinerator doesn't mean I'm obsessed or anything , just…very determined. Anyway, that's what I'm here at Terra Seafuud to do: have a vacation. Even if it means playing counselor to a bunch of undead campers. Honestly though, giving sharp, pointy weapons to a pack of way too overactive and underage brats? Is nothing short of brilliance. If that's what this Director wants me to do, then why should I care if someone goes crazy and commits mass murder? Ha! It should be quite a show.
So, I guess the first lesson today is how to hold a sword the right way without endangering your person too much. Or your allies for that matter. Unless they're stupid enough to get hurt. Then it's fine. Here, see this handle? That's right, it's called the hilt and you wrap your hand around it like this-no, not the blade, the hilt. Man, you people are useless. Seriously, you do NOT want to hold the blade like that. See? I told you. You're lucky you lost just one finger instead of two. Anyway, you rest your hand against the pommel, that's the little round thing at the end of the hilt. There you go-hey! Stop that swinging you two! I'm warning you-oh. That definitely had to hurt. It looks like they're actually going to be fine, despite the missing limbs. First time I've seen heads roll like that. Alright, I suppose that concludes our lesson today. Tomorrow we'll work not chopping off our heads while swinging a sword. It's so hard, I know. Now go away and find something shiny to look at. Though, if you keep staring at my jewels like that, it'll be the last thing you'll ever see. Remember, I show no mercy.
Poll Vote!
Character: Petros Orsini
Series: Trinity Blood (manga)
Character Age: ~29
Job: Peacekeeper
Canon: By about the 31st century, humanity has established an uneasy peace with the vampire-like race known as Methuselah. But as the latter feeds on the blood on the former, there are plenty of cases where a rogue vampire attacks a human. That's when the Vatican's Department of the Inquisition, a group of elite fighters trained to destroy these individuals, steps in.
Brother Petros is the head of the department, and he's everything you could want in the chief of a Shoot First, Maybe Ask Questions Later vampire elimination group. On the battlefield, he is ruthless, dedicated, and so enthusiastic about his mission that he's called the "Knight of Destruction" because he'll take out his own allies by mistake. Off the battlefield, however, he keeps his energy down. Although not the sharpest knife in the drawer, Petros is polite, respectful, a bit of a stickler about orders, and completely devoted to God and the holy mission. But he's also a dorky shounen retard who runs nuns over in the hallway, gets irritated when his pre-battle speech is interrupted by gunshots, believes that the quickest way to peacekeeping is with a gigantic tank, and is prone to calling everyone and their mother a "HERETIC!1!!1!" before attempting to kill them. Watch out when he's annoyed; the giant rotating spear he uses as a weapon is nothing to joke about.
Sample app:
Listen up, you lot! The Knight of Destruction, Brother Petros, Chief of the Department of the Inquisition has arrived and I would like your undivided attention for the few minutes it will take for me to introduce myself. I've been posted to Camp Fuck You Die after reports of a serious conflict between two groups reached my department. And since they've called me in, I'm not expecting this to be easy. You'll find I'm not soft with my methods. But despite your three years of fighting, I'm certain we can find a solid solution of peace that works for everyone.
And just to make it clear for everyone involved, I am not taking sides in this argument. The peacekeeper needs to be impartial, correct? Besides, if it were up to me, you'd all be under arrest as godless heretics! Look at you! Is that appropriate attire for a true servant of the Church?! Your body is nearly skeletal and your stench is horrendous! And don't even get me started on the other offending party; outlandish purple fur has never been acceptable attire for Sunday worship. But... since I am God's devout servant and He has not seen fit to strike you down, I will let these hideous transgressions pass for now. However, since I am God's devout servant, if you show the slightest hint of heresy I will act as the medium for His righteous wrath upon your heads! Are we clear? Good! Now, I'd like one representative from the Zion-Be party to step forward and list your grievances. You don't have to kneel; this isn't a confessional. And there is no need to - WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU ARE SPEAKING my ears are up here, thank you. That's more like it. You can put your face away now, I've got the picture.
The dispute is one of territory! I'm no stranger to this what with all the heretics and vampires and heretical vampires infringing on the Vatican's land, so listen very carefully to me. This is the code that the soldiers of the Inquisition have abided by faithfully for years: DO NOT BACK DOWN! To concede to the enemy is to admit defeat before the battle begins! Stand strong, stand tall, and lean on the man next to you if your legs give out! Form a phalanx, men, and beat the hairy purple enemy off by hand when they're within range. And since I'm the unbiased mediator, purple group! Grab their bones and make them groan! Engage your adversary before he engages you - klsjadkg AND NOT LIKE THAT! Didn't you fools even hear me?! What about the saying "Make war, not love" do you not understand?
Okay, that's it. No real man of God would blatantly ignore the orders of this glorious knight. I'm arresting everyone here on the crime of HERESY! In the name of the one true God - and for you heretics, in the name of Article Seven of my contract, which allows me to use any means necessary to complete my mission, up to and including the use of physical force - prepare for DIVINE PUNISHMENT!
Three can keep the peace if two of them are dead, after all.
Poll Vote!
Character Name: Tony Stark A.K.A. "Iron Man"
Series: Marvel Universe (616)
Job: Engineering Instructor
Character Age: 30-40 something (lol retcons)
Canon: Tony Stark: the man, the myth, the playboy. Named as one of the top ten most intelligent fictional comic characters by BusinessWeek, he was a child prodigy born into a wealthy family, his father being head of Stark Industries. He inherited the family business after his parents died in a fatal car crash, and helped design experimental weapons and equipment for the military. Despite his genius, he is also very charismatic and out-going, with a charming smile to compliment his quick wit.
During an excursion to a Stark weapons test in Vietnam Afghanistan, he is wounded during a Taliban attack and captured, then forced to build a weapon for them. Along with assistance from another prisoner, an elderly man by the name of Yinsen, he manages to create an apparatus that keeps some shrapnel from entering Tony's heart. As part of a daring escape scheme, they also created a suit of armor that Tony would wear, creating a path of destruction and fleeing. Tony made it, Yinsen didn't, and was later filmed being executed.
Upon returning to civilization, he began perfecting his "Iron Man" suit, designing hundreds of variations and upgrades, and as of current he injected the "Extremis" virus into his system. This essentially makes him a cyborg (internally) and allows him to directly connect his armor to his nervous system, and also gives him an increased healing factor and the ability to communicate with electronic equipment by thought. The public was left in the dark about Tony Stark's dual identity, having convinced them that Iron Man was his bodyguard and became his corporate mascot. Having battled everything from wannabe Gods, to alcoholism, to his own friend Captain America, there isn't much Tony Stark hasn't done as Iron Man. He is currently serving as Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. (a group that protects the world from numerous high-level threats), as well as checking up on the progress Camp Hammond is making, where superhuman recruits are training for everyday combat as part of The Initiative program.
Sample Post:
[ System Rebooting . . . ]
Ughh... a hangover without the booze. That's harsh. Alright, standard blackout protocol. What's the last thing I remember? Flying. Great, flying where? ...In the sky. Okay, this isn't working. What's the last thing I drank? Mountain Dew. Okay, so this isn't a relapse, just a possible case of getting jacked up on what legally can be called soda. Any women? Not recently, unfortunately. Alright, how about baddies? None. Or at least, none that confronted me directly. Let's check my handy-dandy on-board camera and see what my last visuals were... [ File Corrupted! ] ...this is becoming an increasingly unsuccessful endeavor. Whatever knocked me out, it must've been stronger than an electromagnetic pulse in order to make my systems all wonky. Alright, since the GPS systems are erroring out on me, let me try and link to any nearby satellite. Hmm~ -YEOW! Whatever is shrouding this area, it just gave my brain a kick in the sack.
Well, my thrusters work well enough, so let's do some good old fashioned flying and scout the place out. [ Scanning... 4 Target(s) Found! ] Hello there! [ Unable to Identify Targets, No Weapons Detected. ] ...oh, crap. Two zombies, a rock monster, and a vegetable monster. I think I saw this movie once. Alright, the two zombies are pretty much walking vegetables, so they're not going to have any quick attacks, and the vegetable monster is... literally a walking vegetable. That leaves you, Rocky. How about you taste this blast from my repulsor ra- [ Error. ] My weapons systems are still offline? I don't suppose I can just kick you in the nuts and run away, right? Alright, Plan C. [ Thrusters Maximum. ] Adios! No point in getting smacked around by Pebbles over there, my priority right now is finding out where on Earth I am, which is also assuming this is still Earth. Also, note to self: stop making cracks about getting kicked in the nuts. Twice in one hour? My quips are almost getting as bad as Spider-Man's. [ Note recorded. ] ...Okay, I didn't mean that literally, but let's keep it for future reference.
The view may be prettier up here, but that's not saying much. I'm detecting high humidity levels, and judging by the location of the sun right now I would say that I'm somewhere down south in the States. So I'm still in the homeland, that's good. But I don't see a Wal-Mart or a McDonald's, or a Wal-Mart with a McDonald's inside, so that worries me. I can't really see the ocean at this height, so that eliminates most of Florida, but the temperature levels tell me that I'm still near the Gulf. Good enough for me. It'd be nice to get a higher look, but I'm not confident this suit could survive another seizure like that, and I'd rather not slam the back of my head into the ground again unless there's a woman involved.
Ah, that's more like it, I see what appears to be a colony up ahead. I think that's a sign over there, this will help tremendously. [ Magnify 250% ] Camp... Camp... [ Magnify 500% ] Camp Fu-wow, they cut right to the chase here, don't they! How about we search for any data on the internal hard drives for "Camp Fuck U Die". [ No Results Found. ] Unfortunate, but... I am detecting some sort of device within the camp, so I will have some words with it.
...And things just took another interesting turn! It seems this camp is looking for some counselors. They seem pretty flexible in terms of counselor jobs, and since I'm probably not going to be going anywhere for a while, there's no harm in enlightening a few kids in the meantime. Hell, I'm a walking science project as it is, I'm sure I could teach these kids how to make a bug zapper that runs on Cheetos or something. And from what this machine is telling me, engineering would be a slightly less bogus occupation than the ones some of the other counselors here already have. Note to self: if they're not interested in an Engineer, inquire about possibly becoming one of the camp's Bikini Inspectors; I spy some pretty ladies over there. [ Note recorded. ]
...Okay, now you're just turning this into a bad Abbott & Costello act.
Poll Vote!
Character: Hal "Otacon" Emmerich
Series: The Metal Gear series
Character Age: approx. mid 30s
Job: Grief Counselor
Canon: The Metal Gear series is an amalgamation of James Bond, Escape from New York, and creator Hideo Kojima's bizarre love for plot twists, hijinks, nonexistent fourth walls, and poo jokes. Otacon makes his first appearance in Metal Gear Solid, when he's being attacked by a masochistic cyborg ninja and peeing his pants from terror. He goes on to ask Solid Snake, Our Tactical Espionage Action Man, if he's an "otaku too"; and is horrified to learn that the giant mobile robot he designed and helped build wasn't going to be used by the government for defense (...like in his favorite anime), but instead was going to be used to launch nuclear missiles.
Basically, Otacon is a huge nerd thrown into an epic battle for world domination. He serves as the brains guy to Snake's brawn, and while he's bumbling and nervous -- and mostly hero-worships Snake -- in MGS1; by MGS2 he's gained enough of a backbone to nag Snake about his cigarettes, completely butcher philosophical quotes at Snake when he tries to save, and become a real partner... as opposed to being just the nerdy guy who advises Snake via codec and gives him shiny gadgets.
That being said, Otacon is still bumbling and nervous and sort of hero-worships Snake. He's ridiculously receptive to women who show him any amount of positive attention. He's got a tragic emo past involving his step-mom that leaves the majority of people staring stupidly at their televisions. Everyone he ever loves dies. And he's still kind, awkward, optimistic, naive, and a huge nerd -- only now he's devoted to destroying the very thing he helped create: Metal Gear.
Note: Otacon is being apped from circa MGS2.
Sample Post:
Hey, uh. Hi everybody. You'll have to forgive me -- I'm really not used to talking in front of such large groups, I. My name is Dr. Hal Emmerich, and I'm here on special assignment. I received an email a little while ago with a request that I come here and give a presentation on, uh, how was it phrased? Right -- "Dealing with Grief and Its Consequences". It's not something I'm very well-versed in -- talking about, I mean, but I guess I'm not really... Anyway. I think this could be a really productive meeting, if we all contribute.
Everyone knows about Kübler-Ross's Five Stages of Grief: Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, and Acceptance. When I talked to the director, she made it very clear to me that I was, uh, to skip the "denial" stage and go straight to the "anger", but I think each step is an important part of dealing with grief. There's this memory I have, from when I was younger... I was sitting in the dark, and even though I'd gone with a couple of my neighbors it seemed like I was completely alone. The moment is etched in my mind. Prime had Megatron down for the count, but Hot Rod interfered and Megatron gained the upper hand. I remember watching in horror as he shot him. Megatron fell off a cliff, and Hot Rod was okay, but Prime was... When the Autobots returned to their base, Prime became one with the matrix and passed on the mantle of power to Ultra Magnus.
At the time, it was impossible. I was stunned. Optimus Prime couldn't die, he was Optimus Prime. I felt like I'd been betrayed by one of my best friends. Soon enough I was mad at Hot Rod for getting in the way: it was his fault, after all, that Prime hadn't been able to shoot Megatron. Megatron took advantage of the situation, but it was all because of Hot Rod trying to be cool. When I finally reached the "bargaining" stage, I was ready for anything. Optimus Prime's cognizance could be transferred into a different body; he could be rebuilt; someone could excavate his remains and use his body as a bargaining chip against the Autobots... and then Prime was brought back to life in the third season. Er.
Aha. ... Maybe this wasn't the best example.
But, um, you see my point. Sometimes it takes time to adjust to someone's death, but you just need to be aware of what you're going through and that it's a process millions of people have undergone before. What's really important to remember is that the "depression" stage is probably the most labor intensive of them all. Your life meter will begin to fall -- the rate will depend on what's affecting you -- and you'll need to press the action button rapidly to restore lost health. This normally only lasts for about thirty seconds in a cutscene though, so just be on the look-out for it.
After you've gotten through the first four stages, the last one's easy. It's not even a stage so much as it is a "state of being". There's an old Chinese proverb about this... "Waiting for a rabbit to hit upon a tree and be killed in order to catch it." Which is basically saying that you shouldn't wait for something else to come along and kill the rabbit for you -- or that you have to do these things for yourself or else. Or else something undefined but vaguely threatening will happen to you. Uh.
... Wouldn't it be easier to just let the rabbit kill itself?
Poll Vote!
Character: Solid Snake.
Series: The Metal Gear series.
Character Age: 38. This number brought to you by a timeline that was probably written on a used cocktail napkin.
Job: Mandatory Man of Mystery.
Canon: The Metal Gear series is not so much a series of stealth-thmed video games as it is an ongoing interactive movie that rewards dedicated viewer participation with life-size crocodile hats, shotguns that unleash typhoons, naked cartwheels, and the fun of an engaging and convoluted story line that refuses to take itself seriously.
Since the first Metal Gear game was released in 1987, the protagonist of the series has (almost) always been one Solid Snake, a highly-trained tactical espionage agent proficient in hand-to-hand combat, Shooting Every Firearm Ever Made, and maintaining a tight butt up to and including the age of seventy. Snake also specializes in constantly being screwed over by the world he's dedicated his life to protecting and shrugging off the emotional weight of these betrayals like they were water off a very sneaky duck.
While Snake has no compunctions about killing when on a mission, he definitely fights only for the greater good and maintains that no matter how bad someone's had it in their life, they still have the power to change themselves despite how preordained their fates may seem to be. Snake can't stop himself from fighting endlessly, as that's all he's ever known, but he can change why he fights. This is what the Metal Gear Solid series is really about: the very personal freedom of choice.
... that, and the complete fact that cardboard boxes could totally save you from a nuclear holocaust, and also that it's great fun breaking the fourth wall until it is a small pile of rubble at your feet. Want to contact someone or save your game? A character will tell you to press the select button to open up the menu with their radio frequency. Want to defeat this BDSM-themed psychic boss? Follow the game's advice about switching controller ports on your game system to outsmart the bastard. You and Snake are in this together, baby, so throw away that useless manual! ... but not the CD case.
Sample Post:
CODEC frequency <<140.96>> has no response... huh. I'll try <<141.12>>... maybe <<145.73>>? ... still nothing. Great. Guess I'll need to save my own updated files and send them to myself. <<141.80>> it is.
I arrived at the enemy base at 0400. According to our intelligence, this was supposed to leave me with two hours to map possible escape routes before the base patrol started their rounds, but the first shift started early; when I breached the first wall, there were already some lower-rank goons wandering around. Poor bastards are stuck in purple fur-coat uniforms and stood out like a couple of sore thumbs. No idea if the heat got to them or what, but they wouldn't have stood a chance at noticing me even without the Stealth Camouflage equipped. I thought the team in this place were supposed to be elite. Or was it elitist? Whatever.
Second wall was passed without any issue. At the third wall I had some local birds threatening to give away my position, but tranq darts from the MK 22 shut them up pretty quick as soon as I could concentrate and aim. Someone taught them that damn song about dancing with... caramels... that Otacon has as a ringtone! Even the cardboard box I found wasn't strong enough to drown it out! And since I know he'd be wondering, no, Otacon. I didn't kill any of the animals... but something with big teeth better have come along after I left and finished the job, that's all I'm saying. They did look kind of tasty.
At the fourth wall I stopped for a cigarette -- no comments from the peanuthead gallery about the good surgeon general's warning, thanks -- when I thought the coast was clear. That was... a rookie mistake, I can admit it. Got too cocky, just like a kid. I was spotted, almost compromising the whole mission. I guess my player -- that is, my id didn't have its head in the game today. But that didn't even matter; for whatever reason, none of the soldiers that saw me raised an alert. My reveal didn't even warrant a caution, which is... strange. Unprecedented. Either I wasn't taken as a threat or this "director" we're after really did a number with her gene therapy program. The soldiers couldn't even form whole sentences, just moans and groans. Kind of spooky, actually.
That's really all that's different from the last saved file to report. I did find a new gun (definitely a type of shotgun, don't know what I can use it for yet) and a pair of thermal goggles (that do nothing, what the hell). I also updated the, ah. Bunny collection with a new magazine. That's everything that's changed, I guess. I'm not really good at saving my own ga-- heh. My own information.
Update of mission files complete. Solid Snake out.
Poll Vote!