(no subject)
Fourth rounddddd.
Remember!
- Applicants, respond anonymously.
- If you're going to do the whole "ask me why I voted you out!" thing, please state who you voted out.
- No speculating about the identity of the applicants!
Now VOTE. CLOSED juri needs sleep again.
Character:Jack Fenton
Age: in his 40's
Series: Danny Phantom
Job: Head Ghost Hunter
Canon: See, Danny Fenton was just fourteen, when his parents built a really strange machine, designed to be a portal between our world and the Ghost Zone. It didn't quite work, his parents just quit, so Danny took a look inside of it. Then, when it accidentally turned on, Danny was fused with ectoplasmic energy, that made him half-human and half-ghost. And what does any kid with sudden superpowers do? Fight crime as a superhero of course! Which might not be the best idea, seeing as how being a superhero with ghost based powers might cause issues with your ghost hunter parents.
Jack Fenton is Danny Fenton's father and is the head honcho of the family ghost hunting business! Really, he is! Jack is the overbearing father you would not want to have. He's loud, brash, easy to excite, and, more often than not, the kind of person to jump without looking. Combine this with his overconfidence, clumsiness, incompetence, his friendly and talkative attitude, and his totally healthy obsession with ghosts, and... well, Jack is often the cause of his kids' embarrassment. But behind all this is a father who cares for his family more then he does anything else and won't stop at anything to keep them safe and happy.
Also the man loves a good dayglow orange jumpsuit!
NOTE: all the gadgets Jack uses to fight ghosts are ones that he invented, even the Fenton Anti-Creep Stick... which is not just a bat.... really!
Sample Post:
EVERYBODY GET DOWN RIGHT NOW!
Hahaha, oh man, did you see the size of that ghost?! It was the size of a house, with tentacles too! But don't worry, with one blast from my Fenton Blaster, I sent that ghost running back to the Ghost Zone, moaning for his mommy. Me! Jack Fenton! Danny Fenton's father, you know Danny right? What, you don't? Why, he's that boy over there waiting in the Fenton RV. Danny, my boy! Come out of the Fenton RV and meet the people here. ... Danny? Now where did that boy wonder off to? He took the RV too! And he knows he's not old enough to drive.
Kids these days, you know? You tell them to stay put somewhere and what do they do? They don't stay put, that's what they do. But hey, who's to blame him? We're on a cross-country ghost hunting trip and I guess he's just so eager to get back on the road so we can do what every Fenton man loves to do best: to rip apart every ghost he sees and manages to get his hands on molecule by molecule. But you know, it was a bit odd that Danny suddenly wanted to do this with his old man... And to tell you the truth, I think he's even embarrassed to be seen with me. Hey, tell me, if I was your dad, would you be embarrassed? No, right?! Must have been my imagination. Well anyway, I just figure that the boy is finally starting to take an interest in the family business. Maybe he'll take after his old man after all, so he's just probably filling up the gas tank here at...
Say, what's all this you have here? Camp Fry Underworldly Dead? A camp? In a swamp? Well, I wouldn't say that's the best place to have a camp, but man, oh man, sounds like my kind of place! Why, I should have known. There is just no way there could be this many people here that look like the walking dead. I know! I bet it's about infiltrating the Ghost Zone! Yeaaaaaah, that's it. I got it right, didn't I? Those ghosts won't know what to expect when they see some of their own kind start attacking them from within. I really gotta hand to you guys here. You're really making this old man proud. I can just tell that you're all going to be fine ghost hunters someday! Well, as much as I would like to stay and help all of you out, Danny and I really gotta get back on the road. If we stay any longer, then he's gonna want play a game of ball with the Fenton Anti-Creep Stick. No matter how many times I tell the boy, it's not a toy! It's a weapon used to combat ghosts and help keep his sister safe from boys.
Wait, what's this? You want me to stay and teach you everything I know about ghost hunting? I can't. No, really, I can't! I know, I know... You want the best out there to teach you so you keep the world safe from ghosts. You want not only the strongest person out there, but the smartest, what with the way I hear all of you saying "braaaaaaaains." And naturally of course, that'll be me! Believe me, I would love to help you out, but Danny and I got places to be and ghosts to defeat, so unless you have som--
Ooooh, is that fudge?
Poll Vote!
Character: Saki Morimi
Series: Eden of the East
Character Age: 22
Job: resident NEET
Canon: Eden of the East is the story of a young college student who only wants to toss a coin into the fountain in front of the White House, and the amnesiac who rescues her from the police's suspicion. Maybe throwing objects into the guarded gates around the President's mansion isn't the smartest thing to do, but on his part, neither is confronting two armed cops while totally naked and equipped with just a handgun and a weird cell phone. Together, the girl and her savior fly back to Japan and try to solve the mysteries behind his missing memories, the casualty-less terrorist attacks on Tokyo, and this show's strange obsession with nudity.
Saki Morimi is a sincere and whimsical young woman who believes that the White House in Washington D.C. is the "center of the world". As a NEET, she feels disconnected from and bitterly disillusioned towards Japanese society and the job system, partly because she's sensitive and naive and gets easily burned by corporate assholes. Although she can be timid and childishly petulant at times, she's good-natured towards those who are kind to her and is always willing to help out friends and strangers alike. If that means giving up various articles of clothing to certain mysteriously naked passerby, she'll happily do so. After taking a moment to stammer and blush over their nudity, of course.
note: Saki's friend (who only remembers random details from various action/horror films for some reason) assumes the name Takizawa, one of his many fake identities.
Sample Post:
Um, is this a job interview? If it is, I think you might be doing it wrong. When you're going to interview someone, you're usually supposed to inform them of that ahead of time. It's not fair otherwise. I'm not even dressed for an interview, b-but wait, that isn't my fault! Please let me explain.
I've never been to this part of the United States before, and I tried dressing for the weather. But it's no good, this place doesn't match what the brochure said at all, because I'm pretty sure it isn't supposed to snow in Louisiana. And the photo on the front looked nice, but maybe it was just a stock picture? It was missing all of the zombies. I was definitely surprised, when I saw them. Normally, information like that would be mentioned in the section with facts on the locals, if this really is such a popular tourist attraction like you claim. But even though the zombies were staggering around like in one of Takizawa-kun's horror movies, they were still, a-ah, completely naked.
So, they looked cold! It was snowing outside, after all. I gave them my jacket and coat and scarf so that they could try to cover themselves, which is why I only have an t-shirt on. Please understand! I would have at least put on a dress shirt, but I didn't even know I was going to be given an interview when I came to this camp. I only wanted to make a wish in the fountain at the, um, the "scrotum of the world" who wrote this pamphlet? When I came here, though, the fountain was actually a lake... I'm very sorry, I'm just a tourist. So, you see, it isn't my fault. If I had known, I would definitely have made sure to wear a suit.
--I, I could have shown up in my birthday suit instead? E-excuse me? That's--what are you saying? I can't believe it. Is this really what decent members of American society are like? Even businessmen in Japan can't be this cruel! You conduct surprise job interviews for students just visiting from overseas and then reject them when they refuse to degrade themselves in this way... how do you even treat your employees? If your counselors didn't have the foresight to dress professionally, would they be forced to strip off their clothes and dignity, too? Taking advantage of them like that, they would be just like the zombies, outside. M-maybe they even are the zombies outside.
I'm sorry, I don't want this job any more. I should have expected this. It's only natural for people like you to reject me, even after I apologized with all my heart. You can tell your committee to vote me out, I don't care. There are other companies I had really wanted to work at before, back in Japan. This camp wasn't one of them. And I've had bad experiences with workplace cafeterias, so don't bother inviting me to join you for lunch at the mess hall. At least I learned that much... it won't help me feel better, even if you say there is a soup to die for.
Poll Vote!
Character: Wanda Lehnsherr ( The Scarlet Witch )
Series: The Ultimates, Ultimate X-Men
Character Age: Late twenties, or so
Job: Trust Exercise Counselor
Canon: Ultimate Marvel Universe is a lot like normal Marvel Universe. There are humans (homo sapiens) and there are mutants (homo superior) and they clash. Some humans want the mutants gone, some mutants want the humans gone. And some people just want everyone to chill out, hold hands and sing kumbaya together. Wanda Lehnsherr is not on Team Peace. In fact, she was once on Team Terrorist, which was run by her father and all of his grand dreams of making a mutant utopia. Since Team Terrorist kept getting defeated Wanda and her brother have switched sides, becoming operatives of the government organization called S.H.I.E.L.D. - on the black ops team.
It seems a bit of an odd combination at first. The Lehnsherrs are kind of like swanky old money types in their own minds, complete with superiority complexes and incestuous undertones. Both Wanda and her brother have the oh so bad habit of referring to humans in less than flattering manners (homo inferior, primates), taking after their father in that respect. Wanda is never one to hide her disdain, but her speech can very quickly fall into lofty mocking of those she finds beneath her. On the other hand, Wanda is also perfectly capable of being polite and tactful when she feels like it. She's a fair weather ally, emphasizing the division between mutants and humans when it suits her and ignoring them when she wants. She and her brother approach their job mostly flippantly, with no real concerns about government secrecy or national pride. And while a temper isn't usually a pervading trait of hers, Wanda's wrath can be roused unpredictably and usually the results aren't very pretty. This is mostly due to her mutant power, which is probability and reality warping.
Sample Post:
Summer camp, really? A children's summer camp, at that. Of all the backwater primate infested places to get sent. The big boys in Washington must really be running out of ideas, calling this "urgent." Just what kind of people am I associating with these days, really? Take a look at this place. I haven't seen a place so overrun with things that were supposed to be dead since that whole Nazi debacle. And that was certainly trying. Not to mention hardly worth my time. Oh, my apologies dear, were you listening this whole time? My bad, I didn't mean to offend your delicate and somewhat putrid, homo sapien sensibilities. It's just so hard to give a damn about a man who looks like a corpse.
Not to say that we're all about appearances, of course. As one of your new counselors, even if it's reluctantly so, I'm here to encourage you. It's what is on the inside that matters, after all. Some of us just have better insides than others. Mm, while you are rather eager to show me just how happy you are to see me, I am well aware that the leg bone attaches to the hip bone. And I'm not talking about those insides, I'm talking about breeding. Some people are cattle and others are prize bulls, you understand? Don't moan so much dear, it's unbecoming, and doesn't help your crude case at all. It's nothing to go on and on about, I'm quite sure one of your other little rotting friends will appreciate how your hips don't lie. And somewhere deep inside that chest cavity of yours you'll start to feel that I'm right. Yes, darling, you're very special. Just like everyone else.
Now, let's see, I'm your Trust Exercise Counselor. I'm sure someone found that very funny. Judging from the looks of things here, they could have just said "Government Operative Who Assesses Threat Level of Children's Summer Camp in Case it Needs to be Nuked" and no one would notice - though I suppose that's another one of those state secrets we're not given liberty to talk about. Trust Exercise Counselor it is.
What's one of those inane games children like to play...? Oh, yes. Let's do a telephone game. It will go like this. I'll whisper one of those naughty little secrets into your ear and you go tell someone else. Only in whispers, of course, that's the trust exercise part. We're trusting each other with something, you see? What to start off with. . . ah, I've got it.
- Let me tell you this, rotting excuse for a homo inferior. Touch me again and I will find a reality out there where you are a deformed three legged anteater getting mauled by several beefy men with clubs. And then I'm going to bring it here.
The question is, are you smart enough to unhand me?
Poll Vote!
Character: Perscitia
Canon: The Temeraire series.
Character Age: "Not very old," in dragon terms. But definitely adult.
Job: Math tutor
Canon: It's the early 1800's, and Europe's armies are massing. It's not just infantry, cavalry, and navy, however; there are also dragons. Newborn dragons are presented with a captain who becomes their lifelong companion as they become intelligent and articulate vessels of the air, from couriers to battleship-equivalents. The books follow the young dragon Temeraire and his captain William Laurence as they learn the ways of the British Aerial Corps, see the world-and all its dragons-and, of course, work to repel Napoleon's invasion.
Perscitia means "very clever," and she is even less modest about her remarkable intellect than her name would imply. She is a dragon without a captain, an experimental cross-breed retired to the breeding grounds early due to being completely unwilling to fight. Perscitia is argumentative, and hardly a pacifist, but she knows very well that bullets are much faster than her, and she has no desire to be injured or killed. The breeding grounds give the dragons very little to do other than sleep, eat, or breed, and so Perscitia has been spending her time working out a variety of mathematical theorems-theorems which she invented first, thank you, not dead humans writing in silly things like books, no matter what Temeraire says. Still, she's happy enough when Temeraire takes the dragons of the breeding grounds off to war, and happier still when he gives her the role of tactician, safely away from the front lines.
Sample Entry:
No, wait, do not run away! Yes, I am a dragon; no, I'm not going to eat you. Both of those things should be quite obvious, and if you cannot see even that much I will despair already. I have been ordered here to show you how to do equations, and I suppose more interesting mathematics if you have the aptitude. Aptitude, not attitude; I am much more certain you have the latter than the former. Now, please be quiet so that we can accomplish this chore quickly. You see, I have very nearly proven the truth of a new theorem of mine, which has given me quite a bit of trouble of late; that is, that for any three whole numbers, there is no exponent that can be put on all three such that the third, raised to that exponent, is equal to the sum of the first two, each raised to that exponent-at least, no exponent greater than two.
-I said exponent, not sex potent! Surely you all must have other things to think about; I have even heard breeding is not allowed, here. Now, pay attention this time, if you would. You see, when you multiply a number by itself many times-the number of times you multiplied it, that is called the exponent. No, no, do not whisper like that; I said we were not talking about breeding, so that is obviously not what I meant by "multiply by itself." It is not very complicated at all; here, I will scratch it in the dirt for you. Do you see, now?
Oh, very well, if it is really that difficult for you, I can start with something simpler. Hmm. I do not think you are particularly small, for humans; you all seem to be well out of the egg, so should you not at least know basic arithmetic by now? No matter, I can certainly demonstrate whatever you like. What would you have me count for you? -Ah; I see, that is somewhat more difficult. The creature in the lake extends quite a few tentacles at a time, but never all of them at once, presumably, as she must still have leverage. It is tricky to count even the ones above the water from this distance, considering their constant motion, but if we observe at a few different times and take an average, I daresay we should have a very close approximation, and if we add to that certain assumptions about her mass and-
What? No, I am not going any closer. You are correct that I am much larger than you are, but it is not cowardly at all to stay back here, only reasonable-she is quite large as well. I certainly should not like to drown; it sounds very unpleasant. If you truly feel you are in over your head with my lessons, you may see how you manage with the lake instead.
Poll Vote!
Character Name: Janitor
Series: Scrubs
Age: Unknown, but definitely middle-aged.
Job: Head Custodian
Canon: Welcome to Sacred Heart Hospital, just another average hospital in sunny California. Well, if you don't count the neurotic doctors, nurses, and their resident Janitor (who is probably the craziest of all). Scrubs tells the story of all the hijinks that ensue within the hospital walls, but doesn't hesitate to show the tragic side of the medical profession as well.
The Janitor is, in a word, strange, and gets most of his amusement from making life difficult for the people around him. You wouldn't think that a mere Janitor would be able to come up with complex plans to annoy, inconvenience or humiliate people, let alone carry them out, but the Janitor does just that--and he does it with flair. He's so good at it, in fact, that he is able to manipulate and intimidate those who are above him in the hospital hierarchy and hardly ever face any consequences for it. It's also for this reason that he is something of a natural leader, and tends to gather groups of weaker-willed individuals to be his followers. Why he does any of this is largely a mystery, but the outcome remains the same: Wherever the Janitor goes, things tend to get a bit more...interesting.
Note: The Janitor is an active taxidermy enthusiast.
Sample Post:
Alright people. My name is Mr. Jan Itor, and I've been hired by this Sayre lady to keep you slackers in line. These fine gentlemen standing to my left are Mr. Slackjaw, Mr. Skullhead, and Mr. Maggotmouth, and they're here to help me help you to keep this classy establishment from turning into a cesspool. So, things are gonna be changing around here. And because I like to make life easier for everyone, I've made a handy list of all the new rules that will come into effect as of now. Should any of you choose to break these rules...well, let's just say that I have list of all the cabins, and who sleeps in them. But hey, I'd like to avoid having to resort to anything extreme, 'cause I'm a stand-up kinda guy.
Rule number one: Any and all small rodents, including rats, moles, squirrels, mice, hamsters, chinchillas, guinea pigs and rabbits will be handed over to me, or to any one of my humble associates. Furthermore, any and all stray brains will be donated to the what I like to call the Brain Trust. Because, as you can see, Mr. Slackjaw over here really wants one, and we all want to keep our staff members happy. Isn't that right, Mr. Slackjaw?
You hear that gurgling sound? That's a 'yes', ladies and gentlemen.
Rule number two: Corporal punishment will be issued to anybody who makes my life more difficult than it has to be. I don't really have access to any of your personal files yet, but I have some people working on that right now. Anyway, you scratch my back, and I won't reveal your embarrassing personal secrets. Fair's fair.
Hey, wha'dya mean that's not technically a rule? It's a rule if I say it's a rule. Come to think of it, Mr. Slackjaw, you've been questioning my authority a bit too much as of late. That's not good for team morale. And while you know that it pains me to do this, I'm stripping you of your position. Mr. Skullhead, you are now Chief Underling. Come stand here next to me.
Where was I? ...Huh, looks like that's the end of the list. Let's see...other than that, I have some general guidelines. They're not really rule rules, but you should still think of them as rules. So...try to avoid splattering blood if you're inside. It's difficult to clean, and I don't like extra work. That goes for puking too. I know a lot of you are kids and all, but that's no excuse--nobody appreciates you stinking up the bathrooms. Bushes are there for a reason.
Yep, that's about it. Mr. Slackjaw will be staying behind to answer any questions. I know he can be a little hard to understand, but I'm sure you'll be able to pick up the gist of his meaning; if his answer is somewhere along the lines of "brains", it means that your question isn't important. As for the rest of us--minions, away!
Poll Vote!
Character: Tallahassee
Series: Zombieland
Job: Twinkie Wrangler Zombie Eradication Expert
Character Age: late 30s?
Canon: WELCOME TO THE UNITED STATES OF ZOMBIELAND! Home of ... uh ... well ... zombies! And you! Now before you start freaking out, we've got a few rules for survival to cover. 1) Double tap. It may look dead, but hey, it always looks dead, so KILL IT AGAIN. 2) Beware of bathrooms. Zombies are as lazy as any American, so they just love chomping on the helpless. And you're pretty helpless while taking the browns to the superbowl. 3) Do not fuck with Tallahassee.
That third rule there is the one we're going to focus on for a moment: Tallahassee is one badass mother fucker. Violent, creative, and ruthless, Tallahassee is completely obsessed with zombie killing -- and finding a god damn Twinkie. Those are his missions in life, but he's got a few rules of his own. He doesn't do names, he doesn't take bullshit, and he doesn't dwell on the past. Having lost his family to the zombie apocalypse, Tallahassee lives without fear and without attachment, since he knows he has nothing to lose. He's a lone wolf, a solitary avenger. Until, of course, he winds up on a cross-country road trip with two twenty-somethings and a preteen girl. Oh, his life. And while by the end of the movie he's still calling them bitches and spitfucks, you can tell he's grown to care for that crazy band of zombie fighters. Despite their constant antics, Tallahassee never fails to be the one who establishes the tone of a scene, and to influence the mood with his vibrant personality. ... And often, his gun. :)b
Sample App:
Good morning, folks, and welcome to Tallahassee's Zombie Eradication Course. Before we get down to business, you all need to pass what I call the 'but Tallahassee, I'm not a zombie!' test. Just follow these commands and no one gets shot. Touch your nose. Stick out your tongue. Spin around, jump up and down, and sing Mary had a little lamb -- okay, now I'm just messing with ya. I believe you're not a zombie... so long as you flap your arms and try to fly! Bark like a dog! Flap faster, little fella, aim for the sky!
Heh heh. You're a sucker, ain't ya? That's alright, you just stick with Tallahassee here and you'll learn the ropes. We'll start nice and slow, with some basic survival techniques.
First. Cock that gun! Hell, walk around cocked like your baby maker ready to blow, because it takes an extra second you might not have... that is, of course, if you have a proper holster for your weapon. 'Cuz while we're on the subject of schlongs, I'm sure you want to keep yours. Pardon the French, ladies. It's just that I heard this one story about this sorry ass fuck who, and I shit you not, shoved his pistol in his waistband, and it was all fine and dandy until a zombie showed up and he shot a hole right through the crotch of his jeans trying to get it out. Guess where that zombie bit? It don't get much sadder than that.
After that... lessee. Swing that car door! Don't underestimate your getaway vehicle, it's also one of your best weapons. So, you better open that door right quick, like you're cracking that zombie's head. Or nuts. I'm not pick---what do you mean, you don't have a car? Well then, you're screwed if there's a horde, spitfuck. Moving on. Stockpile your weapons! And pretty much anything can be a weapon. Baseball bats, banjos, tennis shoes -- okay, I'm messing with you again. For beginners like you fellas, I'd stick with the baseball bats. Not the most long range of weapons, but zombies are spry motherfuckers. They might get too close for you to use a gun, so unless you like brains splattered all over your face I'd go with a good ol'fashioned bludgeoning.
Alrighty, I'm done. If you follow these rules, then you're golden, now ain't ya? Golden like delicious... cream-filled... sponge cake... man, I could really use a Twinkie. I was promised compensation for this shit, in the form of delicately baked sugary snack cakes, so hop fucking to it already--banned? Sugar is what?! Excuse me, I couldn't hear you. Putting too many holes into zombie motherfuckers, so come again, about this no sugar bullshit?
Okay, you lying spitfucks. I have one more rule for you. Don't ever come between a man and his Twinkie.
You get a .5 second head start.
Poll Vote!
Remember!
- Applicants, respond anonymously.
- If you're going to do the whole "ask me why I voted you out!" thing, please state who you voted out.
- No speculating about the identity of the applicants!
Now VOTE. CLOSED juri needs sleep again.
Character:Jack Fenton
Age: in his 40's
Series: Danny Phantom
Job: Head Ghost Hunter
Canon: See, Danny Fenton was just fourteen, when his parents built a really strange machine, designed to be a portal between our world and the Ghost Zone. It didn't quite work, his parents just quit, so Danny took a look inside of it. Then, when it accidentally turned on, Danny was fused with ectoplasmic energy, that made him half-human and half-ghost. And what does any kid with sudden superpowers do? Fight crime as a superhero of course! Which might not be the best idea, seeing as how being a superhero with ghost based powers might cause issues with your ghost hunter parents.
Jack Fenton is Danny Fenton's father and is the head honcho of the family ghost hunting business! Really, he is! Jack is the overbearing father you would not want to have. He's loud, brash, easy to excite, and, more often than not, the kind of person to jump without looking. Combine this with his overconfidence, clumsiness, incompetence, his friendly and talkative attitude, and his totally healthy obsession with ghosts, and... well, Jack is often the cause of his kids' embarrassment. But behind all this is a father who cares for his family more then he does anything else and won't stop at anything to keep them safe and happy.
Also the man loves a good dayglow orange jumpsuit!
NOTE: all the gadgets Jack uses to fight ghosts are ones that he invented, even the Fenton Anti-Creep Stick... which is not just a bat.... really!
Sample Post:
EVERYBODY GET DOWN RIGHT NOW!
Hahaha, oh man, did you see the size of that ghost?! It was the size of a house, with tentacles too! But don't worry, with one blast from my Fenton Blaster, I sent that ghost running back to the Ghost Zone, moaning for his mommy. Me! Jack Fenton! Danny Fenton's father, you know Danny right? What, you don't? Why, he's that boy over there waiting in the Fenton RV. Danny, my boy! Come out of the Fenton RV and meet the people here. ... Danny? Now where did that boy wonder off to? He took the RV too! And he knows he's not old enough to drive.
Kids these days, you know? You tell them to stay put somewhere and what do they do? They don't stay put, that's what they do. But hey, who's to blame him? We're on a cross-country ghost hunting trip and I guess he's just so eager to get back on the road so we can do what every Fenton man loves to do best: to rip apart every ghost he sees and manages to get his hands on molecule by molecule. But you know, it was a bit odd that Danny suddenly wanted to do this with his old man... And to tell you the truth, I think he's even embarrassed to be seen with me. Hey, tell me, if I was your dad, would you be embarrassed? No, right?! Must have been my imagination. Well anyway, I just figure that the boy is finally starting to take an interest in the family business. Maybe he'll take after his old man after all, so he's just probably filling up the gas tank here at...
Say, what's all this you have here? Camp Fry Underworldly Dead? A camp? In a swamp? Well, I wouldn't say that's the best place to have a camp, but man, oh man, sounds like my kind of place! Why, I should have known. There is just no way there could be this many people here that look like the walking dead. I know! I bet it's about infiltrating the Ghost Zone! Yeaaaaaah, that's it. I got it right, didn't I? Those ghosts won't know what to expect when they see some of their own kind start attacking them from within. I really gotta hand to you guys here. You're really making this old man proud. I can just tell that you're all going to be fine ghost hunters someday! Well, as much as I would like to stay and help all of you out, Danny and I really gotta get back on the road. If we stay any longer, then he's gonna want play a game of ball with the Fenton Anti-Creep Stick. No matter how many times I tell the boy, it's not a toy! It's a weapon used to combat ghosts and help keep his sister safe from boys.
Wait, what's this? You want me to stay and teach you everything I know about ghost hunting? I can't. No, really, I can't! I know, I know... You want the best out there to teach you so you keep the world safe from ghosts. You want not only the strongest person out there, but the smartest, what with the way I hear all of you saying "braaaaaaaains." And naturally of course, that'll be me! Believe me, I would love to help you out, but Danny and I got places to be and ghosts to defeat, so unless you have som--
Ooooh, is that fudge?
Poll Vote!
Character: Saki Morimi
Series: Eden of the East
Character Age: 22
Job: resident NEET
Canon: Eden of the East is the story of a young college student who only wants to toss a coin into the fountain in front of the White House, and the amnesiac who rescues her from the police's suspicion. Maybe throwing objects into the guarded gates around the President's mansion isn't the smartest thing to do, but on his part, neither is confronting two armed cops while totally naked and equipped with just a handgun and a weird cell phone. Together, the girl and her savior fly back to Japan and try to solve the mysteries behind his missing memories, the casualty-less terrorist attacks on Tokyo, and this show's strange obsession with nudity.
Saki Morimi is a sincere and whimsical young woman who believes that the White House in Washington D.C. is the "center of the world". As a NEET, she feels disconnected from and bitterly disillusioned towards Japanese society and the job system, partly because she's sensitive and naive and gets easily burned by corporate assholes. Although she can be timid and childishly petulant at times, she's good-natured towards those who are kind to her and is always willing to help out friends and strangers alike. If that means giving up various articles of clothing to certain mysteriously naked passerby, she'll happily do so. After taking a moment to stammer and blush over their nudity, of course.
note: Saki's friend (who only remembers random details from various action/horror films for some reason) assumes the name Takizawa, one of his many fake identities.
Sample Post:
Um, is this a job interview? If it is, I think you might be doing it wrong. When you're going to interview someone, you're usually supposed to inform them of that ahead of time. It's not fair otherwise. I'm not even dressed for an interview, b-but wait, that isn't my fault! Please let me explain.
I've never been to this part of the United States before, and I tried dressing for the weather. But it's no good, this place doesn't match what the brochure said at all, because I'm pretty sure it isn't supposed to snow in Louisiana. And the photo on the front looked nice, but maybe it was just a stock picture? It was missing all of the zombies. I was definitely surprised, when I saw them. Normally, information like that would be mentioned in the section with facts on the locals, if this really is such a popular tourist attraction like you claim. But even though the zombies were staggering around like in one of Takizawa-kun's horror movies, they were still, a-ah, completely naked.
So, they looked cold! It was snowing outside, after all. I gave them my jacket and coat and scarf so that they could try to cover themselves, which is why I only have an t-shirt on. Please understand! I would have at least put on a dress shirt, but I didn't even know I was going to be given an interview when I came to this camp. I only wanted to make a wish in the fountain at the, um, the "scrotum of the world" who wrote this pamphlet? When I came here, though, the fountain was actually a lake... I'm very sorry, I'm just a tourist. So, you see, it isn't my fault. If I had known, I would definitely have made sure to wear a suit.
--I, I could have shown up in my birthday suit instead? E-excuse me? That's--what are you saying? I can't believe it. Is this really what decent members of American society are like? Even businessmen in Japan can't be this cruel! You conduct surprise job interviews for students just visiting from overseas and then reject them when they refuse to degrade themselves in this way... how do you even treat your employees? If your counselors didn't have the foresight to dress professionally, would they be forced to strip off their clothes and dignity, too? Taking advantage of them like that, they would be just like the zombies, outside. M-maybe they even are the zombies outside.
I'm sorry, I don't want this job any more. I should have expected this. It's only natural for people like you to reject me, even after I apologized with all my heart. You can tell your committee to vote me out, I don't care. There are other companies I had really wanted to work at before, back in Japan. This camp wasn't one of them. And I've had bad experiences with workplace cafeterias, so don't bother inviting me to join you for lunch at the mess hall. At least I learned that much... it won't help me feel better, even if you say there is a soup to die for.
Poll Vote!
Character: Wanda Lehnsherr ( The Scarlet Witch )
Series: The Ultimates, Ultimate X-Men
Character Age: Late twenties, or so
Job: Trust Exercise Counselor
Canon: Ultimate Marvel Universe is a lot like normal Marvel Universe. There are humans (homo sapiens) and there are mutants (homo superior) and they clash. Some humans want the mutants gone, some mutants want the humans gone. And some people just want everyone to chill out, hold hands and sing kumbaya together. Wanda Lehnsherr is not on Team Peace. In fact, she was once on Team Terrorist, which was run by her father and all of his grand dreams of making a mutant utopia. Since Team Terrorist kept getting defeated Wanda and her brother have switched sides, becoming operatives of the government organization called S.H.I.E.L.D. - on the black ops team.
It seems a bit of an odd combination at first. The Lehnsherrs are kind of like swanky old money types in their own minds, complete with superiority complexes and incestuous undertones. Both Wanda and her brother have the oh so bad habit of referring to humans in less than flattering manners (homo inferior, primates), taking after their father in that respect. Wanda is never one to hide her disdain, but her speech can very quickly fall into lofty mocking of those she finds beneath her. On the other hand, Wanda is also perfectly capable of being polite and tactful when she feels like it. She's a fair weather ally, emphasizing the division between mutants and humans when it suits her and ignoring them when she wants. She and her brother approach their job mostly flippantly, with no real concerns about government secrecy or national pride. And while a temper isn't usually a pervading trait of hers, Wanda's wrath can be roused unpredictably and usually the results aren't very pretty. This is mostly due to her mutant power, which is probability and reality warping.
Sample Post:
Summer camp, really? A children's summer camp, at that. Of all the backwater primate infested places to get sent. The big boys in Washington must really be running out of ideas, calling this "urgent." Just what kind of people am I associating with these days, really? Take a look at this place. I haven't seen a place so overrun with things that were supposed to be dead since that whole Nazi debacle. And that was certainly trying. Not to mention hardly worth my time. Oh, my apologies dear, were you listening this whole time? My bad, I didn't mean to offend your delicate and somewhat putrid, homo sapien sensibilities. It's just so hard to give a damn about a man who looks like a corpse.
Not to say that we're all about appearances, of course. As one of your new counselors, even if it's reluctantly so, I'm here to encourage you. It's what is on the inside that matters, after all. Some of us just have better insides than others. Mm, while you are rather eager to show me just how happy you are to see me, I am well aware that the leg bone attaches to the hip bone. And I'm not talking about those insides, I'm talking about breeding. Some people are cattle and others are prize bulls, you understand? Don't moan so much dear, it's unbecoming, and doesn't help your crude case at all. It's nothing to go on and on about, I'm quite sure one of your other little rotting friends will appreciate how your hips don't lie. And somewhere deep inside that chest cavity of yours you'll start to feel that I'm right. Yes, darling, you're very special. Just like everyone else.
Now, let's see, I'm your Trust Exercise Counselor. I'm sure someone found that very funny. Judging from the looks of things here, they could have just said "Government Operative Who Assesses Threat Level of Children's Summer Camp in Case it Needs to be Nuked" and no one would notice - though I suppose that's another one of those state secrets we're not given liberty to talk about. Trust Exercise Counselor it is.
What's one of those inane games children like to play...? Oh, yes. Let's do a telephone game. It will go like this. I'll whisper one of those naughty little secrets into your ear and you go tell someone else. Only in whispers, of course, that's the trust exercise part. We're trusting each other with something, you see? What to start off with. . . ah, I've got it.
- Let me tell you this, rotting excuse for a homo inferior. Touch me again and I will find a reality out there where you are a deformed three legged anteater getting mauled by several beefy men with clubs. And then I'm going to bring it here.
The question is, are you smart enough to unhand me?
Poll Vote!
Character: Perscitia
Canon: The Temeraire series.
Character Age: "Not very old," in dragon terms. But definitely adult.
Job: Math tutor
Canon: It's the early 1800's, and Europe's armies are massing. It's not just infantry, cavalry, and navy, however; there are also dragons. Newborn dragons are presented with a captain who becomes their lifelong companion as they become intelligent and articulate vessels of the air, from couriers to battleship-equivalents. The books follow the young dragon Temeraire and his captain William Laurence as they learn the ways of the British Aerial Corps, see the world-and all its dragons-and, of course, work to repel Napoleon's invasion.
Perscitia means "very clever," and she is even less modest about her remarkable intellect than her name would imply. She is a dragon without a captain, an experimental cross-breed retired to the breeding grounds early due to being completely unwilling to fight. Perscitia is argumentative, and hardly a pacifist, but she knows very well that bullets are much faster than her, and she has no desire to be injured or killed. The breeding grounds give the dragons very little to do other than sleep, eat, or breed, and so Perscitia has been spending her time working out a variety of mathematical theorems-theorems which she invented first, thank you, not dead humans writing in silly things like books, no matter what Temeraire says. Still, she's happy enough when Temeraire takes the dragons of the breeding grounds off to war, and happier still when he gives her the role of tactician, safely away from the front lines.
Sample Entry:
No, wait, do not run away! Yes, I am a dragon; no, I'm not going to eat you. Both of those things should be quite obvious, and if you cannot see even that much I will despair already. I have been ordered here to show you how to do equations, and I suppose more interesting mathematics if you have the aptitude. Aptitude, not attitude; I am much more certain you have the latter than the former. Now, please be quiet so that we can accomplish this chore quickly. You see, I have very nearly proven the truth of a new theorem of mine, which has given me quite a bit of trouble of late; that is, that for any three whole numbers, there is no exponent that can be put on all three such that the third, raised to that exponent, is equal to the sum of the first two, each raised to that exponent-at least, no exponent greater than two.
-I said exponent, not sex potent! Surely you all must have other things to think about; I have even heard breeding is not allowed, here. Now, pay attention this time, if you would. You see, when you multiply a number by itself many times-the number of times you multiplied it, that is called the exponent. No, no, do not whisper like that; I said we were not talking about breeding, so that is obviously not what I meant by "multiply by itself." It is not very complicated at all; here, I will scratch it in the dirt for you. Do you see, now?
Oh, very well, if it is really that difficult for you, I can start with something simpler. Hmm. I do not think you are particularly small, for humans; you all seem to be well out of the egg, so should you not at least know basic arithmetic by now? No matter, I can certainly demonstrate whatever you like. What would you have me count for you? -Ah; I see, that is somewhat more difficult. The creature in the lake extends quite a few tentacles at a time, but never all of them at once, presumably, as she must still have leverage. It is tricky to count even the ones above the water from this distance, considering their constant motion, but if we observe at a few different times and take an average, I daresay we should have a very close approximation, and if we add to that certain assumptions about her mass and-
What? No, I am not going any closer. You are correct that I am much larger than you are, but it is not cowardly at all to stay back here, only reasonable-she is quite large as well. I certainly should not like to drown; it sounds very unpleasant. If you truly feel you are in over your head with my lessons, you may see how you manage with the lake instead.
Poll Vote!
Character Name: Janitor
Series: Scrubs
Age: Unknown, but definitely middle-aged.
Job: Head Custodian
Canon: Welcome to Sacred Heart Hospital, just another average hospital in sunny California. Well, if you don't count the neurotic doctors, nurses, and their resident Janitor (who is probably the craziest of all). Scrubs tells the story of all the hijinks that ensue within the hospital walls, but doesn't hesitate to show the tragic side of the medical profession as well.
The Janitor is, in a word, strange, and gets most of his amusement from making life difficult for the people around him. You wouldn't think that a mere Janitor would be able to come up with complex plans to annoy, inconvenience or humiliate people, let alone carry them out, but the Janitor does just that--and he does it with flair. He's so good at it, in fact, that he is able to manipulate and intimidate those who are above him in the hospital hierarchy and hardly ever face any consequences for it. It's also for this reason that he is something of a natural leader, and tends to gather groups of weaker-willed individuals to be his followers. Why he does any of this is largely a mystery, but the outcome remains the same: Wherever the Janitor goes, things tend to get a bit more...interesting.
Note: The Janitor is an active taxidermy enthusiast.
Sample Post:
Alright people. My name is Mr. Jan Itor, and I've been hired by this Sayre lady to keep you slackers in line. These fine gentlemen standing to my left are Mr. Slackjaw, Mr. Skullhead, and Mr. Maggotmouth, and they're here to help me help you to keep this classy establishment from turning into a cesspool. So, things are gonna be changing around here. And because I like to make life easier for everyone, I've made a handy list of all the new rules that will come into effect as of now. Should any of you choose to break these rules...well, let's just say that I have list of all the cabins, and who sleeps in them. But hey, I'd like to avoid having to resort to anything extreme, 'cause I'm a stand-up kinda guy.
Rule number one: Any and all small rodents, including rats, moles, squirrels, mice, hamsters, chinchillas, guinea pigs and rabbits will be handed over to me, or to any one of my humble associates. Furthermore, any and all stray brains will be donated to the what I like to call the Brain Trust. Because, as you can see, Mr. Slackjaw over here really wants one, and we all want to keep our staff members happy. Isn't that right, Mr. Slackjaw?
You hear that gurgling sound? That's a 'yes', ladies and gentlemen.
Rule number two: Corporal punishment will be issued to anybody who makes my life more difficult than it has to be. I don't really have access to any of your personal files yet, but I have some people working on that right now. Anyway, you scratch my back, and I won't reveal your embarrassing personal secrets. Fair's fair.
Hey, wha'dya mean that's not technically a rule? It's a rule if I say it's a rule. Come to think of it, Mr. Slackjaw, you've been questioning my authority a bit too much as of late. That's not good for team morale. And while you know that it pains me to do this, I'm stripping you of your position. Mr. Skullhead, you are now Chief Underling. Come stand here next to me.
Where was I? ...Huh, looks like that's the end of the list. Let's see...other than that, I have some general guidelines. They're not really rule rules, but you should still think of them as rules. So...try to avoid splattering blood if you're inside. It's difficult to clean, and I don't like extra work. That goes for puking too. I know a lot of you are kids and all, but that's no excuse--nobody appreciates you stinking up the bathrooms. Bushes are there for a reason.
Yep, that's about it. Mr. Slackjaw will be staying behind to answer any questions. I know he can be a little hard to understand, but I'm sure you'll be able to pick up the gist of his meaning; if his answer is somewhere along the lines of "brains", it means that your question isn't important. As for the rest of us--minions, away!
Poll Vote!
Character: Tallahassee
Series: Zombieland
Job: Twinkie Wrangler Zombie Eradication Expert
Character Age: late 30s?
Canon: WELCOME TO THE UNITED STATES OF ZOMBIELAND! Home of ... uh ... well ... zombies! And you! Now before you start freaking out, we've got a few rules for survival to cover. 1) Double tap. It may look dead, but hey, it always looks dead, so KILL IT AGAIN. 2) Beware of bathrooms. Zombies are as lazy as any American, so they just love chomping on the helpless. And you're pretty helpless while taking the browns to the superbowl. 3) Do not fuck with Tallahassee.
That third rule there is the one we're going to focus on for a moment: Tallahassee is one badass mother fucker. Violent, creative, and ruthless, Tallahassee is completely obsessed with zombie killing -- and finding a god damn Twinkie. Those are his missions in life, but he's got a few rules of his own. He doesn't do names, he doesn't take bullshit, and he doesn't dwell on the past. Having lost his family to the zombie apocalypse, Tallahassee lives without fear and without attachment, since he knows he has nothing to lose. He's a lone wolf, a solitary avenger. Until, of course, he winds up on a cross-country road trip with two twenty-somethings and a preteen girl. Oh, his life. And while by the end of the movie he's still calling them bitches and spitfucks, you can tell he's grown to care for that crazy band of zombie fighters. Despite their constant antics, Tallahassee never fails to be the one who establishes the tone of a scene, and to influence the mood with his vibrant personality. ... And often, his gun. :)b
Sample App:
Good morning, folks, and welcome to Tallahassee's Zombie Eradication Course. Before we get down to business, you all need to pass what I call the 'but Tallahassee, I'm not a zombie!' test. Just follow these commands and no one gets shot. Touch your nose. Stick out your tongue. Spin around, jump up and down, and sing Mary had a little lamb -- okay, now I'm just messing with ya. I believe you're not a zombie... so long as you flap your arms and try to fly! Bark like a dog! Flap faster, little fella, aim for the sky!
Heh heh. You're a sucker, ain't ya? That's alright, you just stick with Tallahassee here and you'll learn the ropes. We'll start nice and slow, with some basic survival techniques.
First. Cock that gun! Hell, walk around cocked like your baby maker ready to blow, because it takes an extra second you might not have... that is, of course, if you have a proper holster for your weapon. 'Cuz while we're on the subject of schlongs, I'm sure you want to keep yours. Pardon the French, ladies. It's just that I heard this one story about this sorry ass fuck who, and I shit you not, shoved his pistol in his waistband, and it was all fine and dandy until a zombie showed up and he shot a hole right through the crotch of his jeans trying to get it out. Guess where that zombie bit? It don't get much sadder than that.
After that... lessee. Swing that car door! Don't underestimate your getaway vehicle, it's also one of your best weapons. So, you better open that door right quick, like you're cracking that zombie's head. Or nuts. I'm not pick---what do you mean, you don't have a car? Well then, you're screwed if there's a horde, spitfuck. Moving on. Stockpile your weapons! And pretty much anything can be a weapon. Baseball bats, banjos, tennis shoes -- okay, I'm messing with you again. For beginners like you fellas, I'd stick with the baseball bats. Not the most long range of weapons, but zombies are spry motherfuckers. They might get too close for you to use a gun, so unless you like brains splattered all over your face I'd go with a good ol'fashioned bludgeoning.
Alrighty, I'm done. If you follow these rules, then you're golden, now ain't ya? Golden like delicious... cream-filled... sponge cake... man, I could really use a Twinkie. I was promised compensation for this shit, in the form of delicately baked sugary snack cakes, so hop fucking to it already--banned? Sugar is what?! Excuse me, I couldn't hear you. Putting too many holes into zombie motherfuckers, so come again, about this no sugar bullshit?
Okay, you lying spitfucks. I have one more rule for you. Don't ever come between a man and his Twinkie.
You get a .5 second head start.
Poll Vote!