sirenspull app
Player Information
Name: Amy
Age: 22
AIM SN: socksaresocky
email: ipokebadgerswithsticks@yahoo.com
Have you played in an LJ based game before? Yes I have~!
Currrently Played Characters: Chuck Shurley
Conditional: Official Reserve Link: BAM.
Character Information
General
Canon Source: Supernatural
Canon Format: Television
Character's Name: Mary Winchester
Character's Age: 29
What form will your character's NV take? Something that looks like a Star Trek communicator.
Abilities
Character's Canon Abilities: Um, she knows some Latin and can fight really, really, really well. And makes amazing PB&J.
Conditional: If your character has no superhuman canon abilities, what dormant ability will you give them? Fire power. She’ll be fireproof, able to create fire, to put it out (to a certain extent) and, eventually, able to control it. It’ll take substantial training to develop fully.
Weapons: Uhhh. She’s showing up in her nightie.
History/Personality/Plans/etc.
Character History: Wiki link.
Point in Canon: Pre-canon or, technically, the beginning of the flashback in the pilot, after her death.
Character Personality:
Mary is, first and foremost, a mother. Once upon a time she was a hunter and a certified badass, but she has always chosen, even then, to align her sense of self with the kind and the soft, the safe and warm rather than anything so much edgier. She was a girl with an unfortunate family business, and then she was a woman with a past but, more importantly, a husband and two children. In that she is extraordinarily healthy: she loves selflessly, gives of herself for the sake of those she loves, but refuses to martyr or compromise herself beyond what she can take. She is no wilting flower about it, either. In her first in-canon appearance outside of flashbacks, her spirit chased down a bigger and badder ghost and told it in no uncertain terms to stay away from her family. She could almost be described as a mama bear: defensive of what she loves, fierce when need be, but at home utterly soft and warm, caring and understanding. Mary has a huge heart and a lot of love to give, if frustrated at times with ways to show and express it.
Much of her love and her identity center, as mentioned, around family. It is extremely important to her, as is a sense of “normal” that she was so strongly denied through her hunting upbringing. All she ever wanted was to leave the hunting life, because she could see its toxicity, and have a normal life of happiness and peace for her children. That stability so essential to her old dream (and recent life) is very important to her: she craves stability, home, and family more than anything, even in the absence of her parents who could not protect her. The white-picket life always appealed to a deeply sensitive part of her, that was empathetic and kind, and felt things deeply. She has never gotten a thrill from or glorified in danger like some might, and she takes no pleasure in doing ruthless things for justifiable reasons. She has a strongly defined sense of right and wrong, of what is good or bad, of the ugly and the beautiful. It takes a special kind of person to retain her faith in God and the protection of guardian angels, after growing up exposed to every kind of monster and horror. It takes a certain optimism, a certain refusal to stay down, and a sweetness to know acutely how random and horrible life is, to see people destroyed by senseless monsters, and still be able to assure her little son that angels are watching over him.
She is a strongly honest person, despite her history of hunting. She can’t stand to live a lie; when lying to John about the hunting part of her life, the guilt ate away at her until she wanted badly to tell him, so he could understand everything about her. Forget defenses and dysfunctional self-protection, she just wanted the freedom to be honest with him. She is much the same way about conflict, ready and willing to confront problems head-on with the strength of a mother bear and snapping into necessary ruthlessness when it’s called for- for instance, when she saw a shady man stalking her and her boyfriend, she didn’t hesitate to beat his ass down in an alley and demand to know what he was up to.
While a strongly loyal and good person, she isn't perfect. She can be very harsh and her anger is like something of a hurricane when really invoked: the classic mama bear. A life of hunting has made her suspicious and often very intense, asking questions first and trusting later. Though ten years out of the life has dulled her reflexes and instincts somewhat, she still has an end to her patience and a strong sense of self-preservation that extends to the people she loves as well. She isn't a flawlessly selfless saint, either- Mary once was ready to run away from home and leave her parents behind without so much as a note, to follow her dream of escaping the hunting life forever and being with John. When she wants something and knows how to get it, wild horses won't keep her from achieving her goal - though a crisis of conscience might - and she has been known to be opportunistic, to a point. It's a simple fact of life to her that sometimes you have to do things you hate in order to reach an important goal, when given the chance. However, her integrity usually wins those fights unless it's something really important.
Though she was a hunter, she doesn't have the kind of iron will her family members have. Mary doesn't feel she was ever cut out for what her father called the "family business," and the traumas of the job tended to stay with her for a very long time. It's part of her sensitive nature, the part of her that is strong, but is also extremely vulnerable.
Character Plans: To finally play her somewhere, for one, and play her off of her family. She's going to meet her sons and discover who the husband she barely knows has raised them to be, meet the angels and immediately doubt her faith, and be a little more than blown away by everything else she sees in the city. Her Kansas housewife hunter brain will be so confused, but she'll learn and grow and decide that as afterlives go, it's not a bad one.
I don't have a lot of specific plans for her yet, since usually I like to go a few posts and tagged-out threads before I start forming even basic plans for a muse, but in general I hate keeping just to canon interaction. If she won't be living with Sam, then she'll be living with someone else, and she will absolutely get a job that doesn't involve canonmates. I may or may not have her eventually lose some stability and become a bounty hunter. There's a log planned with Batman, I have vague and as-yet unexpressed intentions on reaching out to various muns in the game (Jinx, Piper Halliwell, and basically anybody I think she might click with) for friendship purposes and CR. It's absolutely certain that what she finds for canonmates will be so upsetting and depressing that Mary will deliberately throw herself into the city and into making new friends, just so she can have other people to rely on that aren't her soul-crushing family.
Appearance/PB: The very lovely Samantha Smith.
Writing Samples
First Person Sample
[There's a bunch of clicking and weird sounds, like the person operating the NV has no clue what they're doing, before video clicks on properly, then a few seconds of darkness and muffled sounds before it's turned around and focuses in on... a woman. She's visibly exhausted, vaguely pinkish like a faint sunburn, and breathing too hard with a serious case of what was probably once bedhead. Oh, and she's in nothing but a white nightgown. Enjoy that, Siren's Port. She's clutching a broken-off piece of fencing in her hand like a lifeline and has some cuts and bruises- pretty tame for what you'd expect from a night in the Darkness, really.
She appears to be in a dimly-lit little Darkness club, and pants hard for a few seconds before speaking.]
You know, I'm actually starting to regret not going in the dugout? I mean, you get dropped in some strange field in this really unnatural darkness- I wouldn't go into the shady bunker for love or money. [She laughs shakily and pushes a hand through her messy hair, leaning heavily against the table the NV is resting on.] Maybe I should have.
[Another nervous laugh, and she starts running her fingers through her hair, trying to get a tangle out.] I can't believe I'm in a strange city in my nightgown. That's unbelievable.
I can't believe I just fought off a bunch of monsters in a strange city in my nightgown. I don't even know what those are, they weren't even in Dad's books.
[She shakes her head.]
The people at this... club have told me that I need to stay in until sirens. I don't know what that means, exactly, but they told me that there are things I should go through as a "newcomer."
If someone can please help me, I would really appreciate it.
[She reaches for the NV, then pauses.] My name is Mary Winchester. It's not exactly nice to meet you, but I guess you know what I mean.
[Fin.]
Third Person Sample
It got to be too much right around the time she looked at John and saw somebody her father's age. Or maybe it was meeting her son, her little precious Dean and realizing he was three years older than her. There was the redness all over her body, too, and the faint white scars on her stomach that chilled her bones to look at. The cacophony of noise disturbed her, and in the lulls of silence she could hear crackling, roaring, cruel laughter from the shadows and all overshadowed by those chilling yellow eyes. These strangers, these people she knew and didn't touching her like she was made of gold, kept looking at her and talking to her with an uncomfortable note of reverence in their voices that made her skin itch. It was precarious on the pedestal, and she just wanted to jump down.
They didn't know her. She didn't know them.
These hunters, these hardened men with deadened eyes and hardened livers, they haunted her. Dean with his watery eyes and whiskey breath, big and strong and everything she feared for her children, oh, how she hurt to look at him. There was Sam, Sam with his eyes red-rimmed and empty, just enough of the baby she held in his face to twist something deep and painful in her. And John. John. Her father's age, tired and hardened and miles from the man she ever loved, and Mary choked on the hot surge of grief and rage every time she saw him for who he had raised their sons to be. She married a young, innocent man who could take her away from the horrors of the hunting life, only to find that he tailspun and took their children down with him, into everything she wanted to shelter them from. They were broken; how could they help her?
But they were her family, so she held on. Scared, alone, and unable to work so much as a microwave in this city without getting confused, she held on and smiled for them, because they expected it. They wanted a woman preserved in amber, a beautiful Mother Mary who could shine for them. That beautiful saint was walking down the street with her grizzled, aging prince, when the smell of cooking meat from a food stand hit her nostrils.
She didn't stop running until her feet couldn't carry her. When Mary looked up, her eyes fell on the weather-worn form of the Virgin Mary, gazing beatifically down on the city. Though it was a Wednesday afternoon, she pushed through the doors of the Church of the Presentation of Mary, looking around curiously at the carved marble and gold filigree on the walls.
"Hello, my child," came a voice from across the chapel, words echoing around them.
Mary looked up to see a kind-faced priest a little younger than John emerging from some hidden rooms in the back. "Hi," she said shyly.
"Can I help you with something?"
"I don't know," Mary admitted. "I'm not even Catholic, but I just wound up here, and..." She bit her lip, gaze tracking up a beautiful painted angel to the ceiling, where gold paneling met on the serene bearded face of God.
"Catholic or not, anybody is welcome in my congregation," he said gently, touching her arm very lightly. "Is something troubling you? Sometimes we all need some guidance in the Darkness."
Mary looked down at him quickly, heart sinking to realize that here, the Darkness was very much literal. "Yeah, I guess. I'm new here."
"Ah," he nodded knowingly. "I see. You're feeling alone? Would you like to pray for your family?"
"No," she burst out. "That's the thing- they're here. My husband, my sons- they're here, but I don't even-" She cut off and put a hand to her mouth, trying not to cry.
"Timelines," he said with an air of understanding, putting an arm around her shoulder. Mary nodded and with a gasp started telling him everything, not sure of why she was spilling this all to a stranger.
Though she didn't know half the prayers inscribed on the walls around them, and she still didn't know the father's name, for a brief hour Mary felt a little less alone. She took no comfort in angels watching over her, not with them literally at their door with no good intent, but she slept a little easier that night knowing that at least somebody cared.
Name: Amy
Age: 22
AIM SN: socksaresocky
email: ipokebadgerswithsticks@yahoo.com
Have you played in an LJ based game before? Yes I have~!
Currrently Played Characters: Chuck Shurley
Conditional: Official Reserve Link: BAM.
Character Information
General
Canon Source: Supernatural
Canon Format: Television
Character's Name: Mary Winchester
Character's Age: 29
What form will your character's NV take? Something that looks like a Star Trek communicator.
Abilities
Character's Canon Abilities: Um, she knows some Latin and can fight really, really, really well. And makes amazing PB&J.
Conditional: If your character has no superhuman canon abilities, what dormant ability will you give them? Fire power. She’ll be fireproof, able to create fire, to put it out (to a certain extent) and, eventually, able to control it. It’ll take substantial training to develop fully.
Weapons: Uhhh. She’s showing up in her nightie.
History/Personality/Plans/etc.
Character History: Wiki link.
Point in Canon: Pre-canon or, technically, the beginning of the flashback in the pilot, after her death.
Character Personality:
Mary is, first and foremost, a mother. Once upon a time she was a hunter and a certified badass, but she has always chosen, even then, to align her sense of self with the kind and the soft, the safe and warm rather than anything so much edgier. She was a girl with an unfortunate family business, and then she was a woman with a past but, more importantly, a husband and two children. In that she is extraordinarily healthy: she loves selflessly, gives of herself for the sake of those she loves, but refuses to martyr or compromise herself beyond what she can take. She is no wilting flower about it, either. In her first in-canon appearance outside of flashbacks, her spirit chased down a bigger and badder ghost and told it in no uncertain terms to stay away from her family. She could almost be described as a mama bear: defensive of what she loves, fierce when need be, but at home utterly soft and warm, caring and understanding. Mary has a huge heart and a lot of love to give, if frustrated at times with ways to show and express it.
Much of her love and her identity center, as mentioned, around family. It is extremely important to her, as is a sense of “normal” that she was so strongly denied through her hunting upbringing. All she ever wanted was to leave the hunting life, because she could see its toxicity, and have a normal life of happiness and peace for her children. That stability so essential to her old dream (and recent life) is very important to her: she craves stability, home, and family more than anything, even in the absence of her parents who could not protect her. The white-picket life always appealed to a deeply sensitive part of her, that was empathetic and kind, and felt things deeply. She has never gotten a thrill from or glorified in danger like some might, and she takes no pleasure in doing ruthless things for justifiable reasons. She has a strongly defined sense of right and wrong, of what is good or bad, of the ugly and the beautiful. It takes a special kind of person to retain her faith in God and the protection of guardian angels, after growing up exposed to every kind of monster and horror. It takes a certain optimism, a certain refusal to stay down, and a sweetness to know acutely how random and horrible life is, to see people destroyed by senseless monsters, and still be able to assure her little son that angels are watching over him.
She is a strongly honest person, despite her history of hunting. She can’t stand to live a lie; when lying to John about the hunting part of her life, the guilt ate away at her until she wanted badly to tell him, so he could understand everything about her. Forget defenses and dysfunctional self-protection, she just wanted the freedom to be honest with him. She is much the same way about conflict, ready and willing to confront problems head-on with the strength of a mother bear and snapping into necessary ruthlessness when it’s called for- for instance, when she saw a shady man stalking her and her boyfriend, she didn’t hesitate to beat his ass down in an alley and demand to know what he was up to.
While a strongly loyal and good person, she isn't perfect. She can be very harsh and her anger is like something of a hurricane when really invoked: the classic mama bear. A life of hunting has made her suspicious and often very intense, asking questions first and trusting later. Though ten years out of the life has dulled her reflexes and instincts somewhat, she still has an end to her patience and a strong sense of self-preservation that extends to the people she loves as well. She isn't a flawlessly selfless saint, either- Mary once was ready to run away from home and leave her parents behind without so much as a note, to follow her dream of escaping the hunting life forever and being with John. When she wants something and knows how to get it, wild horses won't keep her from achieving her goal - though a crisis of conscience might - and she has been known to be opportunistic, to a point. It's a simple fact of life to her that sometimes you have to do things you hate in order to reach an important goal, when given the chance. However, her integrity usually wins those fights unless it's something really important.
Though she was a hunter, she doesn't have the kind of iron will her family members have. Mary doesn't feel she was ever cut out for what her father called the "family business," and the traumas of the job tended to stay with her for a very long time. It's part of her sensitive nature, the part of her that is strong, but is also extremely vulnerable.
Character Plans: To finally play her somewhere, for one, and play her off of her family. She's going to meet her sons and discover who the husband she barely knows has raised them to be, meet the angels and immediately doubt her faith, and be a little more than blown away by everything else she sees in the city. Her Kansas housewife hunter brain will be so confused, but she'll learn and grow and decide that as afterlives go, it's not a bad one.
I don't have a lot of specific plans for her yet, since usually I like to go a few posts and tagged-out threads before I start forming even basic plans for a muse, but in general I hate keeping just to canon interaction. If she won't be living with Sam, then she'll be living with someone else, and she will absolutely get a job that doesn't involve canonmates. I may or may not have her eventually lose some stability and become a bounty hunter. There's a log planned with Batman, I have vague and as-yet unexpressed intentions on reaching out to various muns in the game (Jinx, Piper Halliwell, and basically anybody I think she might click with) for friendship purposes and CR. It's absolutely certain that what she finds for canonmates will be so upsetting and depressing that Mary will deliberately throw herself into the city and into making new friends, just so she can have other people to rely on that aren't her soul-crushing family.
Appearance/PB: The very lovely Samantha Smith.
Writing Samples
First Person Sample
[There's a bunch of clicking and weird sounds, like the person operating the NV has no clue what they're doing, before video clicks on properly, then a few seconds of darkness and muffled sounds before it's turned around and focuses in on... a woman. She's visibly exhausted, vaguely pinkish like a faint sunburn, and breathing too hard with a serious case of what was probably once bedhead. Oh, and she's in nothing but a white nightgown. Enjoy that, Siren's Port. She's clutching a broken-off piece of fencing in her hand like a lifeline and has some cuts and bruises- pretty tame for what you'd expect from a night in the Darkness, really.
She appears to be in a dimly-lit little Darkness club, and pants hard for a few seconds before speaking.]
You know, I'm actually starting to regret not going in the dugout? I mean, you get dropped in some strange field in this really unnatural darkness- I wouldn't go into the shady bunker for love or money. [She laughs shakily and pushes a hand through her messy hair, leaning heavily against the table the NV is resting on.] Maybe I should have.
[Another nervous laugh, and she starts running her fingers through her hair, trying to get a tangle out.] I can't believe I'm in a strange city in my nightgown. That's unbelievable.
I can't believe I just fought off a bunch of monsters in a strange city in my nightgown. I don't even know what those are, they weren't even in Dad's books.
[She shakes her head.]
The people at this... club have told me that I need to stay in until sirens. I don't know what that means, exactly, but they told me that there are things I should go through as a "newcomer."
If someone can please help me, I would really appreciate it.
[She reaches for the NV, then pauses.] My name is Mary Winchester. It's not exactly nice to meet you, but I guess you know what I mean.
[Fin.]
Third Person Sample
It got to be too much right around the time she looked at John and saw somebody her father's age. Or maybe it was meeting her son, her little precious Dean and realizing he was three years older than her. There was the redness all over her body, too, and the faint white scars on her stomach that chilled her bones to look at. The cacophony of noise disturbed her, and in the lulls of silence she could hear crackling, roaring, cruel laughter from the shadows and all overshadowed by those chilling yellow eyes. These strangers, these people she knew and didn't touching her like she was made of gold, kept looking at her and talking to her with an uncomfortable note of reverence in their voices that made her skin itch. It was precarious on the pedestal, and she just wanted to jump down.
They didn't know her. She didn't know them.
These hunters, these hardened men with deadened eyes and hardened livers, they haunted her. Dean with his watery eyes and whiskey breath, big and strong and everything she feared for her children, oh, how she hurt to look at him. There was Sam, Sam with his eyes red-rimmed and empty, just enough of the baby she held in his face to twist something deep and painful in her. And John. John. Her father's age, tired and hardened and miles from the man she ever loved, and Mary choked on the hot surge of grief and rage every time she saw him for who he had raised their sons to be. She married a young, innocent man who could take her away from the horrors of the hunting life, only to find that he tailspun and took their children down with him, into everything she wanted to shelter them from. They were broken; how could they help her?
But they were her family, so she held on. Scared, alone, and unable to work so much as a microwave in this city without getting confused, she held on and smiled for them, because they expected it. They wanted a woman preserved in amber, a beautiful Mother Mary who could shine for them. That beautiful saint was walking down the street with her grizzled, aging prince, when the smell of cooking meat from a food stand hit her nostrils.
She didn't stop running until her feet couldn't carry her. When Mary looked up, her eyes fell on the weather-worn form of the Virgin Mary, gazing beatifically down on the city. Though it was a Wednesday afternoon, she pushed through the doors of the Church of the Presentation of Mary, looking around curiously at the carved marble and gold filigree on the walls.
"Hello, my child," came a voice from across the chapel, words echoing around them.
Mary looked up to see a kind-faced priest a little younger than John emerging from some hidden rooms in the back. "Hi," she said shyly.
"Can I help you with something?"
"I don't know," Mary admitted. "I'm not even Catholic, but I just wound up here, and..." She bit her lip, gaze tracking up a beautiful painted angel to the ceiling, where gold paneling met on the serene bearded face of God.
"Catholic or not, anybody is welcome in my congregation," he said gently, touching her arm very lightly. "Is something troubling you? Sometimes we all need some guidance in the Darkness."
Mary looked down at him quickly, heart sinking to realize that here, the Darkness was very much literal. "Yeah, I guess. I'm new here."
"Ah," he nodded knowingly. "I see. You're feeling alone? Would you like to pray for your family?"
"No," she burst out. "That's the thing- they're here. My husband, my sons- they're here, but I don't even-" She cut off and put a hand to her mouth, trying not to cry.
"Timelines," he said with an air of understanding, putting an arm around her shoulder. Mary nodded and with a gasp started telling him everything, not sure of why she was spilling this all to a stranger.
Though she didn't know half the prayers inscribed on the walls around them, and she still didn't know the father's name, for a brief hour Mary felt a little less alone. She took no comfort in angels watching over her, not with them literally at their door with no good intent, but she slept a little easier that night knowing that at least somebody cared.