Please check to make sure the character you are applying for is not already taken or reserved. If not, please fill out this application and leave it in a comment!
The Test Card Girl, 2/2laser_not_sonicJanuary 3 2009, 08:41:40 UTC
samples. Journal (first person):
X's and O's, noughts and crosses. Game Theory, and the only way to win is not to play. Like little Miss Muffet, as soon as she stepped into her rhyme, she'd lost. Everyone's got a spider in their porridge, they just can't always see it.
I can.
I can see everything.
All the little paths nobody takes and why they don't, and maybe why they should. Not that anybody listens to me. I scare them, sometimes. They don't like me; try to run away from me. So I make them hurt, make them pay attention. It's fun. And so easy.
Maybe if they listened, they wouldn't get lost so much.
But they don't. Poor them. Eeeheehee~
Formal (third person):
Poor Sam, he always has to make so many hard decisions. Red lorry, yellow lorry, red lorry, yellow lorry, now or then, sleep or wake up. Poor, poor, stupid, lost Sam. From inside the little glass room, she watches him, giggling a little to herself. Her clown smiles back at her with its still, stuffed face, and she turns to look out at Sam as he scrubs a desperate hand over his face.
'Poor Sam,' she says out loud, and Sam starts, scrambling backwards when he sees her sitting calmly atop the television set, legs crossed like a good little girl's should. There's terror in his eyes when he looks at her.
'They don't understand you, do they? Always leave the hard decisions up to you. But it's alright; you're always right, after all. You always do the right thing, Sam; you're so clever.'
He glares at her from behind the bed. 'Piss off. I do not need this right now.'
'I'm only trying to help you, Sam.'
A pause.
'I could help you get home if you listened. I know a lot of things too.'
He looks up, and despite himself, there's something like hope in his eyes. The girl can see it, see how much he hates that it's there, and she smiles, just a little, and cocks her head to the side. 'It's up to you. Your decision.'
Anything else? :) 'In 1973, when television transmission had ceased for the night, when the story is done and the characters have vanished into nothing, the BBC would switch to the Test Card girl. So she, if you want to be melodramatic, represents the apocalypse, the end.'
Re: The Test Card Girl, 2/2montwick_modsJanuary 10 2009, 03:21:26 UTC
Accepted! Please join montwick_rp and montwick_ooc with your character journal, and after being approved, leave a comment on the player contact post, and friend everyone using the friending codes. After that, feel free to start posting!
Journal (first person):
X's and O's, noughts and crosses. Game Theory, and the only way to win is not to play. Like little Miss Muffet, as soon as she stepped into her rhyme, she'd lost. Everyone's got a spider in their porridge, they just can't always see it.
I can.
I can see everything.
All the little paths nobody takes and why they don't, and maybe why they should. Not that anybody listens to me. I scare them, sometimes. They don't like me; try to run away from me. So I make them hurt, make them pay attention. It's fun. And so easy.
Maybe if they listened, they wouldn't get lost so much.
But they don't. Poor them. Eeeheehee~
Formal (third person):
Poor Sam, he always has to make so many hard decisions. Red lorry, yellow lorry, red lorry, yellow lorry, now or then, sleep or wake up. Poor, poor, stupid, lost Sam. From inside the little glass room, she watches him, giggling a little to herself. Her clown smiles back at her with its still, stuffed face, and she turns to look out at Sam as he scrubs a desperate hand over his face.
'Poor Sam,' she says out loud, and Sam starts, scrambling backwards when he sees her sitting calmly atop the television set, legs crossed like a good little girl's should. There's terror in his eyes when he looks at her.
'They don't understand you, do they? Always leave the hard decisions up to you. But it's alright; you're always right, after all. You always do the right thing, Sam; you're so clever.'
He glares at her from behind the bed. 'Piss off. I do not need this right now.'
'I'm only trying to help you, Sam.'
A pause.
'I could help you get home if you listened. I know a lot of things too.'
He looks up, and despite himself, there's something like hope in his eyes. The girl can see it, see how much he hates that it's there, and she smiles, just a little, and cocks her head to the side. 'It's up to you. Your decision.'
Anything else? :) 'In 1973, when television transmission had ceased for the night, when the story is done and the characters have vanished into nothing, the BBC would switch to the Test Card girl. So she, if you want to be melodramatic, represents the apocalypse, the end.'
~Matthew Graham, creator of Life on Mars.
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment