cannot resist the lure
What the hell. I'm a memesheep. However, I'm not going to tag anyone, since, uh, most of the people on my friendslist have done this meme already. Feel free to pretend I tagged you and hop on board if you like, though!
1. Choose a few of your own characters. Five at the most.
2. Make them answer the following questions.
3. Then tag three people.
4. Feel free to go ahead and add some questions yourself!
I'll put the House up to bat: Jack, Beowulf, and Thomas.
How old are you?
JACK: 26.
BEOWULF: 25!
THOMAS: Uh, 23.
BEOWULF: But he's tall for his age!
(THOMAS blushes.)
What's your height?
JACK: 6'2.
BEOWULF: 6'1, baby!
THOMAS: Um, 5'10? I think?
BEOWULF: Oh, no fucking way, you're at least six feet tall.
THOMAS: I-I guess that's possible. I haven't been measured since the last time I went to the doctor...
What are you?
JACK: ...
BEOWULF: A sex god.
JACK: ... you are not.
BEOWULF: Hey, did I say I was talking about myself? I wasn't talking about myself. I just noticed that you weren't answering, so I answered for you.
JACK: ... first of all, like fuck, Beo, and second of all, how in the hell would you know anyway?
BEOWULF: Well, I don't. I'm just assuming. I'd sure like to know, though!
JACK: Shut up, Beo.
(BEOWULF waggles his eyebrows at JACK. JACK socks BEOWULF in the shoulder. BEOWULF yelps and grabs his shoulder. THOMAS is crimson and unable to answer the question.)
Do you have any bad habits?
JACK: Yes.
BEOWULF: ...
THOMAS: ...
JACK: ... what?
BEOWULF: Well? What are they?
JACK: What are what?
BEOWULF: Your bad habits!
JACK: ... who cares?
BEOWULF: Me! Me! I do! Oh, God, I care, Jack, I care so much--
JACK: Jesus, shut up, Beo.
THOMAS: Uh, sometimes I leave the dishes sitting in the sink overnight...
BEOWULF: And Thomas here thinks that's his worst habit! He's just so precious. Aren't you? Aren't you just so precious?
(JACK sighs and puts BEOWULF in a headlock. BEOWULF yowls and flails around. THOMAS goes pink again.)
JACK: Leave the kid alone.
Are you a virgin?
JACK: No.
BEOWULF: No way, baby.
THOMAS: Um.
(BEOWULF immediately turns wide and fascinated eyes on THOMAS. THOMAS makes a little strangling sound, hunches his shoulders and is too tongue-tied to say anything else.)
Who's your mate/spouse? If not, got anyone in mind?
JACK: Don't have one. Don't want one. I'm taking an extended break from dating anyway.
(BEOWULF flings his arms around JACK's neck.)
BEOWULF: Jack here is my dream guy! Some day he'll realize that I've been pining for him all this time, and it'll just be magical~
(JACK struggles out from under BEOWULF's arms and punches him in the stomach.)
JACK: Oh, like fuck, Beowulf!
BEOWULF: Like fuck? Oh, yes, I like fuck--
(THOMAS makes another of those strangling sounds and abruptly jumps up off the couch, heading for the kitchen.)
--FIVE-MINUTE RECESS--
Do you have any kids?
(All three of them stare at GALLYE in disbelief. Eventually, THOMAS stirs, drawing BEOWULF's attention like a magnet.)
THOMAS: Um, I-I have a little brother...
BEOWULF: That totally does not count--although I gotta say, nice try.
THOMAS: Well, ah, nobody else was saying anything!
What's your favorite food?
JACK: Pasta.
BEOWULF: Oh, man, you can't go wrong with pizza! Pizza is the food of the gods. Plus you can put anything on it. Anything.
THOMAS: Um, turkey sandwiches.
(BEOWULF blinks at THOMAS.)
BEOWULF: Whaaaaat? People actually like turkey? I thought everyone just tolerated it!
(THOMAS flushes.)
THOMAS: Well, um, you know, on really good bread? With good turkey and swiss cheese and mayonnaise, and then eating it on the couch with a soft drink while reading a book...
BEOWULF: ... so what you're saying is that it's kind of a whole scene that you're into.
THOMAS: I guess?
What's your favorite ice cream flavor?
JACK: Cookies 'n' cream, I guess. I don't have ice cream often.
BEOWULF: Oh, man, there's this little place near campus that makes chai ice cream and it is so good.
THOMAS: I like, um, chocolate ice cream with stuff in it.
BEOWULF: ... 'stuff'.
THOMAS: Um, ah, I mean, like, chunks of... of stuff. Peanut butter or caramel or marshmallows or something--can I change my answer?
BEOWULF: Too late, bucko! Thomas is a stuff man! Oh, man, it's true what they say about the quiet ones--
(JACK stomps on BEOWULF's foot. BEOWULF yelps and shuts up.)
Have you killed anyone?
(All three of them stare at GALLYE in general horror.)
BEOWULF: Man, I'm a ladykiller, but some shit is just wrong, you know?
Do you hate anyone?
JACK: ... Beowulf.
BEOWULF: Ha! Liar. You love me.
JACK: I do not.
BEOWULF: You do too. You loooooove me. You pine for my succulent body! You writhe in your sheets late at night dreaming about--
JACK: Oh, Jesus, I'm gonna be sick.
(BEOWULF throws his arms around a protesting JACK's neck and looks at GALLYE.)
BEOWULF: I don't hate anyone! Neither does Jack here. He's just funnin' with you.
THOMAS: Um, me neither. Not really.
JACK: ... actually, I hate a lot of people. But mostly Beowulf.
Have any secrets?
JACK: Yes.
BEOWULF: ...
JACK: ... and I'm not telling you what they are, Beowulf, Jesus. You make my life suck enough as it is.
BEOWULF: Spoilsport. Anyway, I don't have any real secrets, other than the fact that I ate the last of Jack's cereal last week and blamed it on raccoons--
JACK: I knew it.
BEOWULF: Heh heh. Oops.
THOMAS: I, uh, I have these weird dreams...
(BEOWULF whips around in his seat.)
BEOWULF: Oh, man, I gotta hear this! What do you dream about? Systems analysis? Oh, I know, you have dreams about having sex with characters from fantasy novels! Right? Right?!
(THOMAS, having gone red, just shakes his head mutely. JACK slaps the back of BEOWULF's head.)
Do you love anyone?
JACK: I... guess so. My family. You know.
BEOWULF: He guesses so. Heh. That's Jack for you. Anyway, I love everyone. Pretty much. But mostly Jack~
JACK: ...
THOMAS: Well, I love my mom and dad, and my little brother...
What is your job?
JACK: I'm a model. Mostly local stuff. Catalogs, local ads, that kind of thing.
(JACK shrugs.)
JACK: It pays the bills.
BEOWULF: Plus he's totally hot.
JACK: ...
BEOWULF: Anyway, I'm a millionaire playboy.
THOMAS: I'm in grad school. In, um, mathematics.
BEOWULF: Obviously he's the smart one in our little family.
Boy or girl?
JACK: ... man.
BEOWULF: Yes please!
THOMAS: Um. Boy?
BEOWULF: You don't sound sure about that, Tommy-boy!
THOMAS: Ah! Um. Yes. Boy. Definitely.
BEOWULF: Are you sure? Because I can check for you--
JACK: Beo...
What do you do to relax?
JACK: Nap. Take walks. Listen to music.
BEOWULF: I don't relax! There's just too much to do and see! I'll relax when I'm eighty.
THOMAS: I read. Um. A lot. And mess around on my computer.
BEOWULF: Probably looking at porn.
(THOMAS goes red.)
BEOWULF: Although I guess that's not really all that relaxing.
What's something that you like?
JACK: Peace and quiet. Rain.
BEOWULF: ... I'm going to get hit if I say 'Jack' again, right?
JACK: Yes.
BEOWULF: ... I like bananas.
JACK: ...
BEOWULF? What? I totally do.
THOMAS: I really like museums. And libraries. Quiet, echoey places.
What did you want to be when you grew up?
JACK: ... I don't want to talk about this.
BEOWULF: I wanted to be a hippo.
THOMAS: Um. I wanted to... ah... be Mr. Wizard.
(THOMAS, embarrassed, hides his face in his hands.)
BEOWULF: ... that is the cutest goddamned thing I've ever heard.
THOMAS: ... um. A hippo?
BEOWULF: Yeah, well, it's like I always say, you gotta try for your dreams.
JACK: ...
1. Choose a few of your own characters. Five at the most.
2. Make them answer the following questions.
3. Then tag three people.
4. Feel free to go ahead and add some questions yourself!
I'll put the House up to bat: Jack, Beowulf, and Thomas.
How old are you?
JACK: 26.
BEOWULF: 25!
THOMAS: Uh, 23.
BEOWULF: But he's tall for his age!
(THOMAS blushes.)
What's your height?
JACK: 6'2.
BEOWULF: 6'1, baby!
THOMAS: Um, 5'10? I think?
BEOWULF: Oh, no fucking way, you're at least six feet tall.
THOMAS: I-I guess that's possible. I haven't been measured since the last time I went to the doctor...
What are you?
JACK: ...
BEOWULF: A sex god.
JACK: ... you are not.
BEOWULF: Hey, did I say I was talking about myself? I wasn't talking about myself. I just noticed that you weren't answering, so I answered for you.
JACK: ... first of all, like fuck, Beo, and second of all, how in the hell would you know anyway?
BEOWULF: Well, I don't. I'm just assuming. I'd sure like to know, though!
JACK: Shut up, Beo.
(BEOWULF waggles his eyebrows at JACK. JACK socks BEOWULF in the shoulder. BEOWULF yelps and grabs his shoulder. THOMAS is crimson and unable to answer the question.)
Do you have any bad habits?
JACK: Yes.
BEOWULF: ...
THOMAS: ...
JACK: ... what?
BEOWULF: Well? What are they?
JACK: What are what?
BEOWULF: Your bad habits!
JACK: ... who cares?
BEOWULF: Me! Me! I do! Oh, God, I care, Jack, I care so much--
JACK: Jesus, shut up, Beo.
THOMAS: Uh, sometimes I leave the dishes sitting in the sink overnight...
BEOWULF: And Thomas here thinks that's his worst habit! He's just so precious. Aren't you? Aren't you just so precious?
(JACK sighs and puts BEOWULF in a headlock. BEOWULF yowls and flails around. THOMAS goes pink again.)
JACK: Leave the kid alone.
Are you a virgin?
JACK: No.
BEOWULF: No way, baby.
THOMAS: Um.
(BEOWULF immediately turns wide and fascinated eyes on THOMAS. THOMAS makes a little strangling sound, hunches his shoulders and is too tongue-tied to say anything else.)
Who's your mate/spouse? If not, got anyone in mind?
JACK: Don't have one. Don't want one. I'm taking an extended break from dating anyway.
(BEOWULF flings his arms around JACK's neck.)
BEOWULF: Jack here is my dream guy! Some day he'll realize that I've been pining for him all this time, and it'll just be magical~
(JACK struggles out from under BEOWULF's arms and punches him in the stomach.)
JACK: Oh, like fuck, Beowulf!
BEOWULF: Like fuck? Oh, yes, I like fuck--
(THOMAS makes another of those strangling sounds and abruptly jumps up off the couch, heading for the kitchen.)
--FIVE-MINUTE RECESS--
Do you have any kids?
(All three of them stare at GALLYE in disbelief. Eventually, THOMAS stirs, drawing BEOWULF's attention like a magnet.)
THOMAS: Um, I-I have a little brother...
BEOWULF: That totally does not count--although I gotta say, nice try.
THOMAS: Well, ah, nobody else was saying anything!
What's your favorite food?
JACK: Pasta.
BEOWULF: Oh, man, you can't go wrong with pizza! Pizza is the food of the gods. Plus you can put anything on it. Anything.
THOMAS: Um, turkey sandwiches.
(BEOWULF blinks at THOMAS.)
BEOWULF: Whaaaaat? People actually like turkey? I thought everyone just tolerated it!
(THOMAS flushes.)
THOMAS: Well, um, you know, on really good bread? With good turkey and swiss cheese and mayonnaise, and then eating it on the couch with a soft drink while reading a book...
BEOWULF: ... so what you're saying is that it's kind of a whole scene that you're into.
THOMAS: I guess?
What's your favorite ice cream flavor?
JACK: Cookies 'n' cream, I guess. I don't have ice cream often.
BEOWULF: Oh, man, there's this little place near campus that makes chai ice cream and it is so good.
THOMAS: I like, um, chocolate ice cream with stuff in it.
BEOWULF: ... 'stuff'.
THOMAS: Um, ah, I mean, like, chunks of... of stuff. Peanut butter or caramel or marshmallows or something--can I change my answer?
BEOWULF: Too late, bucko! Thomas is a stuff man! Oh, man, it's true what they say about the quiet ones--
(JACK stomps on BEOWULF's foot. BEOWULF yelps and shuts up.)
Have you killed anyone?
(All three of them stare at GALLYE in general horror.)
BEOWULF: Man, I'm a ladykiller, but some shit is just wrong, you know?
Do you hate anyone?
JACK: ... Beowulf.
BEOWULF: Ha! Liar. You love me.
JACK: I do not.
BEOWULF: You do too. You loooooove me. You pine for my succulent body! You writhe in your sheets late at night dreaming about--
JACK: Oh, Jesus, I'm gonna be sick.
(BEOWULF throws his arms around a protesting JACK's neck and looks at GALLYE.)
BEOWULF: I don't hate anyone! Neither does Jack here. He's just funnin' with you.
THOMAS: Um, me neither. Not really.
JACK: ... actually, I hate a lot of people. But mostly Beowulf.
Have any secrets?
JACK: Yes.
BEOWULF: ...
JACK: ... and I'm not telling you what they are, Beowulf, Jesus. You make my life suck enough as it is.
BEOWULF: Spoilsport. Anyway, I don't have any real secrets, other than the fact that I ate the last of Jack's cereal last week and blamed it on raccoons--
JACK: I knew it.
BEOWULF: Heh heh. Oops.
THOMAS: I, uh, I have these weird dreams...
(BEOWULF whips around in his seat.)
BEOWULF: Oh, man, I gotta hear this! What do you dream about? Systems analysis? Oh, I know, you have dreams about having sex with characters from fantasy novels! Right? Right?!
(THOMAS, having gone red, just shakes his head mutely. JACK slaps the back of BEOWULF's head.)
Do you love anyone?
JACK: I... guess so. My family. You know.
BEOWULF: He guesses so. Heh. That's Jack for you. Anyway, I love everyone. Pretty much. But mostly Jack~
JACK: ...
THOMAS: Well, I love my mom and dad, and my little brother...
What is your job?
JACK: I'm a model. Mostly local stuff. Catalogs, local ads, that kind of thing.
(JACK shrugs.)
JACK: It pays the bills.
BEOWULF: Plus he's totally hot.
JACK: ...
BEOWULF: Anyway, I'm a millionaire playboy.
THOMAS: I'm in grad school. In, um, mathematics.
BEOWULF: Obviously he's the smart one in our little family.
Boy or girl?
JACK: ... man.
BEOWULF: Yes please!
THOMAS: Um. Boy?
BEOWULF: You don't sound sure about that, Tommy-boy!
THOMAS: Ah! Um. Yes. Boy. Definitely.
BEOWULF: Are you sure? Because I can check for you--
JACK: Beo...
What do you do to relax?
JACK: Nap. Take walks. Listen to music.
BEOWULF: I don't relax! There's just too much to do and see! I'll relax when I'm eighty.
THOMAS: I read. Um. A lot. And mess around on my computer.
BEOWULF: Probably looking at porn.
(THOMAS goes red.)
BEOWULF: Although I guess that's not really all that relaxing.
What's something that you like?
JACK: Peace and quiet. Rain.
BEOWULF: ... I'm going to get hit if I say 'Jack' again, right?
JACK: Yes.
BEOWULF: ... I like bananas.
JACK: ...
BEOWULF? What? I totally do.
THOMAS: I really like museums. And libraries. Quiet, echoey places.
What did you want to be when you grew up?
JACK: ... I don't want to talk about this.
BEOWULF: I wanted to be a hippo.
THOMAS: Um. I wanted to... ah... be Mr. Wizard.
(THOMAS, embarrassed, hides his face in his hands.)
BEOWULF: ... that is the cutest goddamned thing I've ever heard.
THOMAS: ... um. A hippo?
BEOWULF: Yeah, well, it's like I always say, you gotta try for your dreams.
JACK: ...