(no subject)
♣ Player Information
Name: Mab
Journal: mabaliciousness
Age: 22
IM: ShinraBadass (AIM)
Email: Puck_ish@hotmail.com
Timezone: US EST
♥ Character Information
Name: Diego “Rod” Rodney
Age: 25 (age at death; would be 28)
Personality: During his Turk days, Rod was always perky and easily excitable. Often described as “brash” and “proud,” he has always had somewhat of a superiority complex, and as a result takes any defeat as a personal challenge to his masculinity. A prime example of this would be his huge complex about Reno. Ever since the incident where Reno beat him up upon finding Rod trying to steal a ShinRa motorcycle, Rod has had Reno pegged as his “arch rival.” To make matters worse, people often tell him he’s a lot like Reno, which pisses Rod off to no end, especially because he can see a lot of the similarities himself. Though Reno is in general the type of person Rod gets along with, and he’s never outwardly antagonistic towards the older Turk, Rod is always trying to one-up Reno, which makes him quite the dare devil, often getting him in trouble. He actually really admires Reno, though you’d never get him to admit it.
Despite the fact that he likes to put forth a bad boy attitude, Rod is really a very kind person. Coming from a gang background, he remains fiercely loyal to his own, placing complete trust in those on his side. Though he was once the leader his gang, he has never been one for protocol or formalities, addressing everyone with the same casual, often gruff manner. His ambition and dedication to seeing any mission through has allowed him to become a skilled fighter, and he strives for perfection in any endeavor.
Upon his return from the Lifestream, Rod’s personality will at first appear to have changed drastically. Due to the trauma surrounding his death, his mind has blanked out much of his memory, bits and pieces only gradually returning to him. Unsure who to trust or turn to, Rod will have become jumpy and anxious, suspicious of anyone he comes in contact with, generally remaining quiet and sullen for the time being.
Strengths: Rod is a perfectionist to the very end. His sheer amount of confidence allows him to take on challenges others might be hesitant to face. Essentially, his goal in life is to be the best of the best, and he will put his all into anything thrown his way. He is unfailingly trustworthy for those on his side, and protective of those under his watch. On the field, he is fast and skilled in close combat, able to evade many attacks while getting in hits of his own. He has a high tolerance for pain, allowing him to take a number of hits before he is forced to retreat. He is also an excellent mechanic, and can drive just about anything with wheels like a pro.
Weaknesses: Rod is quite immature for his age. He can be somewhat of a spaz, and he has a rather bad temper. He likes to talk big and will take on any dare, a trait that has been known to land him in any number of awkward situations. Due to his overly large ego and confidence, Rod as a tendency to be impulsive, often ending up in over his head, unwilling to admit he might have taken on more than he can handle. He likes to do things his way, so he’s not always good at taking orders. He has always been a little too trusting once he believes someone is on his side, and has paid the price for it.
History: Rod grew up in Midgar, above the plate. His life was fairly normal, and his story could have been anyone’s. His parents got a divorce when he was young, his mother spending most of her time at work once he was in school, and leaving Rod for the most part two his own devices. He rarely saw his father, except for sometimes on his birthday when his father would take him out for a meal or drop by bearing some sort of expensive gift and a quick apology for having to rush off so soon. Rod and his mother were fairly well off on their own, living in a comfortable apartment that had everything they needed, and possibly a bit more. He never cared much for material things, however, save for the motorcycle his father gifted him when he turned fifteen.
It was around that time Rod fell in with ‘the wrong crowd.’ His competitive streak developed on the streets of Midgar, where he met other boys who enjoyed high speeds and dangerous games. He discovered a night life full of racing, bets, and attractive individuals who fawned over anyone cool enough to ride with the winners. Street racing led to cockiness, which in turn led to showing off; he found himself getting into fights, and making enemies. His allies soon formed a gang that Rod became the leader of by the time he was eighteen. What had started out of boredom quickly transformed into a lifestyle, and while his mother’s looks and comments grew increasingly more disapproving, his drug deals and petty thefts only escalated. Some would call it a textbook case: the typical cry for attention from a child who was given so much that meant so little.
In any case, life went on as usual, Rod growing ever bolder and surer of himself, until his confidence outweighed his luck one day and he was caught attempting to steal a ShinRa motorcycle. Fortunately, the skills he developed on the streets were nothing to be laughed at, and despite receiving a serious ass-kicking by Reno in the end, Rod managed to hold his own for long enough to warrant the attention of the Turks. When he was summoned to meet with the head of ShinRa’s so-called Administrative Research Department, the last thing he would have expected was the offer of a job. He joined the Turks fully intending on rising to the top just as fast as he’d risen within the ranks of his gang. This proved to be difficult however, having to stand next to seasoned killers who labeled him “Rookie” and made a point to pick out any and every flaw he worked so hard to cover up. Rod was always good at using his pent up frustration to spur him on, though, and his determination and dedication never wavered up until he disappeared without a trace, sent out on a job to deal with a particular scientist, never to be heard from again…until now.
♠ Roleplaying Samples
First person:
‘Reno, Reno, Reno.’ For fuck’s sake, get the fuck over yourself, man!
I mean, seriously. He so ain’t as badass as everyone fuckin’ thinks he is. I mean really. Really, seriously, he ain’t. I know. Okay, so I guess the guy’s all right at fightin’. Sure, he might’ve bested me a couple of times. But I could totally take him, for serious. Any time, any place, if the guy wants to go I will so fuckin’ take him down so bad it ain’t even funny. An’ if I lose you know the bastard probably cheated or some shit like that. He so can’t win every time. That’s like, unlogical or somethin’. Y’know?
An’ what the fuck’s up with everyone sayin’ I like, want to be him? Fuuuuck that. I don’t give a shit about Reno, or bein’ like him. Nope. Nada. Zilch. Just ‘cause I fight with a weapon that’s kinda like his don’t make me some kinda copycat. My nickname’s fuckin’ “Rod,” geniuses. Gotta live up to my name, now don’t I? What the hell else would I fight with? An’ just ‘cause maybe I equip Thunder materia on my rod a lot don’t mean I do it ‘cause Reno does.
I ain’t no rookie, either. I fuckin’ hate bein’ called that, and I think he like does it ‘cause he knows I hate it. Fucker. I got just as much experience under my belt as he does. So he got the best of me that one time with the motorcycle…I still got hired as a Turk, didn’t I? Yeah. I fuckin’ did. Ugh. I will fuckin’ show him. I swear to all the god damned summons out there. I will. Someday I’ll be “Diego ‘Rod-Who’s-Better-Than-That-Fucker-Reno’ Rodney.” Just you fuckin’ wait. I mean it.
My rod’s bigger anyway.
Third person:
Waiting for orders was like waiting for old man ShinRa to give up and fucking get assassinated already. Crouched in a small alcove under cover of a conveniently broken street lamp, Rod was bouncing on the balls of his feet, practically twitching with energy and adrenaline he was sure would drive him crazy if he didn’t get some action soon. He could see the target inside the large office building across the way, and he didn’t understand at all why they couldn’t just bust in their and start shooting, or at least put the guy out of his misery with a shot right through the the nice, big, brightly-lit window he was standing in front of. One shot. That’s all it would take. Honestly, what the hell was Veld thinking? It wasn’t like they needed anything besides the disc in the guy’s pocket anyway. It would be so freaking easy to just do this and be done so he could go chat up that cute redhead he’d been sharking at the local club for the past few days.
Rod checked his watch, rolling his eyes and heaving a sigh. This was just stupid. If he was in Tseng’s place, he’d just tell the team to go ahead and do this already, but no. God damned protocol and hoops and all that beauromatic or whatever bullshit. No action, just time wasting. Well he’d had enough. When the target started moving towards the doorway, he made up his mind to do this the right way: The Rod Way. He’d worry about all the trouble he was going to get in later, but it was now or never, and he had to move. Really, this job was too easy. He could have done it by himself, with a blindfold and his hands cuffed. Okay, well maybe more like an eye patch and a hand tied behind his back, but details, details.
“Perfect opening - I’m goin’ in,” he muttered quickly into the tiny microphone attached to his collar, halfway across the street before he heard Tseng’s tense hiss of ‘I said hold!’ transmitted through his earpiece. Heh. Oops. Too late now… The target, and older man with a pathetic comb over and a greasy forehead, looked at him with surprise when Rod waltzed straight up to him, self-assured smirk in place as hit his open palm threateningly with the tip of his metal rod.
“I hear you you got somethin’ that don’t belong to you…”
That was just the start of this whole smart ass spiel he’d been working on while he’d been sitting there in the dark. He’d been waiting all night to find out if it sounded as cool out loud as it did in his head. He was sure it would have been really badass, but all of a sudden the old man was giving him a freaky ass smile the that threw him way off. The awesome that would have been his carefully planned monologue and then single-handed take-down of this target was cut short by an ominous click and the feeling of cold metal against the back of his skull.
Well, shit. This wasn’t going at all like he’d imagined, that was for damn sure.