[OOC] App Post II
Character: Cpt. Malcolm Reynolds
Series: Firefly (series) / Serenity (movie)
Character Age: Early thirties
Job: Part-time Job Coordinator
Canon: Firefly is a series all about being in the middle of things. East meets West, sci-fi spaceships mingle with Western cowboys, and bad guys in mighty fine hats face off against good guys in … attractive floral bonnets. Add in a dash of colorful Chinese curses and a big ol’ helping of Joss-style snark, and you’ve got a recipe for adventure. The focus of the series is one of the aforementioned cowboy spaceships, a Firefly-class vessel named Serenity. It’s home to the finest crew of not-quite-criminals that ever wandered the ‘Verse. Together, they take what jobs they can get and occasionally end up engagin’ in some mighty fine heroics … but mostly, they just keep flyin’.
Malcolm “Mal” Reynolds is the captain of this ship and arguably the central character of the series. A man of principle, the guy is fiercely loyal to his crew and his ideals. Especially when said ideals get him hip-deep in a mess of trouble … though his habit of shooting first and asking questions never sure doesn’t help either. But really, it’s hard to blame him - when a guy loses everything in a war, including the ability to really appreciate what little he does have left, it’s bound to make anyone a mite tetchy. Retarded captain-ness aside, Mal is still a Joss protagonist, which means he deals with stress (and … everything else, really) in the way he knows best: lots of snark. He can even be downright perky if’n the mood’s struck him right, and it often does once things start getting dicey. For all his trigger-happy tendencies, he’s quite the fast talker, especially when his life’s on the line. Just don’t let it distract you from the steel underneath.
Fangirl Firefly Chinese: fēng le= “loopy in the head.”
Sample Post:
All right, this is officially a predicament.
Can’t say I’m completely surprised on that count. Y’get wise after a while, seein’ as how I’ve pulled a lotta jobs that went wrong like a … thing that really goes wrong. That and the zombies. Because I am all manner of certain that there was nothin’ about zombies in the job description. Fact of the matter is, it looked sorta normal, considering some fēng le lady setting up camp on a swamp moon was the one ‘casting it all over the ‘Verse. It even promised some manner of decent pay - which is something I got a terrible fondness for. The ‘cast made it sound almost like babysitting, ‘cept the babies I’m sitting on are a touch more adultified. The idea woulda been that, since there’s all sorts of kids and critters and mighty excitable zombies cooped here, and plenty of stuff that needs to be done, this Director lady wants to start parceling out the odd job or two. T’do that, she needs somebody who’s got half a brain and some experience with pullin’ a job. And I got the experience down pat.
All an’ all, it wasn’t looking too bad as far as crazy swamp jobs went … ‘til the zombies showed up. I swear they were waitin’ patiently for me to get myself a good long impression of this camp just so they could come on down an’ mess with it. Which they are doing with all their zombie might. Maybe they didn’t take too kindly to me shootin’ one or ten of ‘em soon as they came calling. Normally I wouldn’t have too much to worry about from brain-eaters, ‘specially if they got anything resembling refined tastes, but see, these fellas got somethin’ else in mind. The jobs, in particular. This has got t’be the first time I seen so many dead folks interested in hairdressin’ and facials and head-messaging. There some kinda Miss Zombie contest I should be hearin’ about? Course, I ain’t got much right to talk. It ain’t often I see dead folks seekin’ work in general, much less beautifyin’ ones. So far as first experiences go, this is turnin’ out to be a right memorable one. But I was gonna feel some sympathy. Swamp like this don’t get much by way of work, I’m guessin’, unless you’re in the menacing and slobbering business. But they sure got tetchy once all two of my hairdressin’ job offers got filled.
Did I say tetchy? I meant kidnappy. Not by the the dead folks - they started keepin’ clear after the first ten bullets or so - but by their monkey buddies. Almost enough to make me feel damsel-in-distressy, ‘cept I don’t quite got the ankles for it. Takes a special kinda poise to look pretty and get gorilla-handled at the same time. Don’t suppose you could let me go on account of that? No? So here I am. Sad and - well, not ‘xactly alone, what with all this company. Makes it a mite difficult to get the job done. … you do still want them jobs right? Just ‘cause I’m fresh outta hairdressin’ don’t mean we can’t work somethin’ out. Take this fella pinnin’ my arms behind my back. Good strong hands on him. Ever think of takin’ up massage work? I seem to recall readin’ a bit about this Marcy lady looking for a good massage guy. Girl. Whichever you are. She’s even offerin’ a nice bit of lakefront property so you don’t have to walk far to work.
Interested? Great. How ‘bout you just let go so I can reach on down to the part of my belt that is in no way affiliated with my gun. Paperwork, y’know.
Votings went heeeeere. 98.5% (66 IN / 1 OUT)
Series: Firefly (series) / Serenity (movie)
Character Age: Early thirties
Job: Part-time Job Coordinator
Canon: Firefly is a series all about being in the middle of things. East meets West, sci-fi spaceships mingle with Western cowboys, and bad guys in mighty fine hats face off against good guys in … attractive floral bonnets. Add in a dash of colorful Chinese curses and a big ol’ helping of Joss-style snark, and you’ve got a recipe for adventure. The focus of the series is one of the aforementioned cowboy spaceships, a Firefly-class vessel named Serenity. It’s home to the finest crew of not-quite-criminals that ever wandered the ‘Verse. Together, they take what jobs they can get and occasionally end up engagin’ in some mighty fine heroics … but mostly, they just keep flyin’.
Malcolm “Mal” Reynolds is the captain of this ship and arguably the central character of the series. A man of principle, the guy is fiercely loyal to his crew and his ideals. Especially when said ideals get him hip-deep in a mess of trouble … though his habit of shooting first and asking questions never sure doesn’t help either. But really, it’s hard to blame him - when a guy loses everything in a war, including the ability to really appreciate what little he does have left, it’s bound to make anyone a mite tetchy. Retarded captain-ness aside, Mal is still a Joss protagonist, which means he deals with stress (and … everything else, really) in the way he knows best: lots of snark. He can even be downright perky if’n the mood’s struck him right, and it often does once things start getting dicey. For all his trigger-happy tendencies, he’s quite the fast talker, especially when his life’s on the line. Just don’t let it distract you from the steel underneath.
Fangirl Firefly Chinese: fēng le= “loopy in the head.”
Sample Post:
All right, this is officially a predicament.
Can’t say I’m completely surprised on that count. Y’get wise after a while, seein’ as how I’ve pulled a lotta jobs that went wrong like a … thing that really goes wrong. That and the zombies. Because I am all manner of certain that there was nothin’ about zombies in the job description. Fact of the matter is, it looked sorta normal, considering some fēng le lady setting up camp on a swamp moon was the one ‘casting it all over the ‘Verse. It even promised some manner of decent pay - which is something I got a terrible fondness for. The ‘cast made it sound almost like babysitting, ‘cept the babies I’m sitting on are a touch more adultified. The idea woulda been that, since there’s all sorts of kids and critters and mighty excitable zombies cooped here, and plenty of stuff that needs to be done, this Director lady wants to start parceling out the odd job or two. T’do that, she needs somebody who’s got half a brain and some experience with pullin’ a job. And I got the experience down pat.
All an’ all, it wasn’t looking too bad as far as crazy swamp jobs went … ‘til the zombies showed up. I swear they were waitin’ patiently for me to get myself a good long impression of this camp just so they could come on down an’ mess with it. Which they are doing with all their zombie might. Maybe they didn’t take too kindly to me shootin’ one or ten of ‘em soon as they came calling. Normally I wouldn’t have too much to worry about from brain-eaters, ‘specially if they got anything resembling refined tastes, but see, these fellas got somethin’ else in mind. The jobs, in particular. This has got t’be the first time I seen so many dead folks interested in hairdressin’ and facials and head-messaging. There some kinda Miss Zombie contest I should be hearin’ about? Course, I ain’t got much right to talk. It ain’t often I see dead folks seekin’ work in general, much less beautifyin’ ones. So far as first experiences go, this is turnin’ out to be a right memorable one. But I was gonna feel some sympathy. Swamp like this don’t get much by way of work, I’m guessin’, unless you’re in the menacing and slobbering business. But they sure got tetchy once all two of my hairdressin’ job offers got filled.
Did I say tetchy? I meant kidnappy. Not by the the dead folks - they started keepin’ clear after the first ten bullets or so - but by their monkey buddies. Almost enough to make me feel damsel-in-distressy, ‘cept I don’t quite got the ankles for it. Takes a special kinda poise to look pretty and get gorilla-handled at the same time. Don’t suppose you could let me go on account of that? No? So here I am. Sad and - well, not ‘xactly alone, what with all this company. Makes it a mite difficult to get the job done. … you do still want them jobs right? Just ‘cause I’m fresh outta hairdressin’ don’t mean we can’t work somethin’ out. Take this fella pinnin’ my arms behind my back. Good strong hands on him. Ever think of takin’ up massage work? I seem to recall readin’ a bit about this Marcy lady looking for a good massage guy. Girl. Whichever you are. She’s even offerin’ a nice bit of lakefront property so you don’t have to walk far to work.
Interested? Great. How ‘bout you just let go so I can reach on down to the part of my belt that is in no way affiliated with my gun. Paperwork, y’know.
Votings went heeeeere. 98.5% (66 IN / 1 OUT)