(no subject)
Next round /o/
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!
Character: Nico Robin
Series: One Piece
Character's Age: 28
Job: Arms Dealer
Canon: One Piece is a canon where nearly everyone awesome is a pirate, and all those pirates are racing down the the fiercest ocean ever, in search of the treasure left behind by the Pirate King, Gol. D Roger. The story follows Monkey D. Luffy and his crew, the Straw Hats, on their quest to find that treasure, the "One Piece." To keep things interesting, One Piece introduces the Devil Fruit, a rare fruit that grants a one-of-a-kind ability in exchange for being completely useless in water. Each fruit is unique, meaning just about any superpower you can imagine is present somewhere.
Nico Robin is the most mature member of Strawhats. Somehow, despite the insanity of the rest of the crew, she manages to maintain her dignity and remains the last bastion of reason aboard the ship. She is quite calm and easy-going, but has a wickedly morbid sense of humour. Her profession as archaeologist and her scholarly demeanor mean she is very eloquent and well spoken, even in the tensest of situations. Despite her general laid-back attitude, Robin cares very deeply for history, and the preservation thereof; those who are ignorant of history's importance or careless with the remaining artifacts are often punished with no remorse on her part. Robin has eaten the Hana Hana no Mi, or Bloom Bloom Fruit, which essentially allows Robin to replicate and "bloom" any of her body parts from nearby surfaces. In combat, she uses this to sprout hands on enemies and contort their bodies painfully. Robin has been pursued by the World Government since a very young age, and a lifetime on the run has caused her to become someone who is slow to trust. Eventually, Robin accepts her role as archaeologist and mother in the somewhat eccentric family, and settles into being a true Straw Hat, with only her dreams ahead of her.
Sample Post:
If the weathering and wear is in accordance to that of similar locales, this bit of iron ore could be much older than the surrounding area. The large displacement of the land here is the likely reason it has been uncovered. Of course, the landslide I inadvertently caused likely did not help matters. Of course, the landslide I inadvertently caused likely did not help matters. Ah... how tragic, it appears that several people were caught in the aftermath. Could the carvings here be their work? There are several depictions of a heavenly body with a grotesque face plummeting towards an encampment. I suspect the message underneath is a warning or description of the event-- it's certainly primitive, but there are clear references to three days. The dialect isn't one I'm familiar with, though, so it may be the period in which this event occurred, or a the remaining time before the event. While I was aware the ruins here were likely going to be something with which I had no experience, I did not realize they would be quite so foreign. The environment is very enjoyable; the use of human skulls and mutated skeletons is especially charming. I suspect there will be a great many items of interest, and at least a little adventure. Of course, any locale that needs an "arms dealer" will almost certainly have some dangerous elements.
There is a chance more artifacts such as these lie in the surrounding forest... Ah, the inhabitants do look quite rough, don't they. Excuse me, sir, but perhaps you could... oh my, I did not expect to encounter zombies during this expedition. ...Ah, I apologize, I should have realized that you only have a slight skin condition. It was very insensitive of me, I must agree. You might consider a change in your nightly facial care regimen; it seems to have left you with a slightly gray pallor. The weather probably does not help matters. I admit that I am not used to this humidity myself. Living at sea, I have rarely been exposed to this kind of climate. Oh no, please do not worry about me, it is hardly anything I haven't experienced before. Stranger things have happened on the Grand Line. Now, I can't help but notice that you have been shedding limbs. Mm, I don't think it will help you very much to try and stick them back on. The greenish tinge is not an especially healthy characteristic. It's time for you to give up your pretense, don't you agree, Mr. Zombie?
Perhaps to make up for that little bit of fun, you could tell me more about this area. Oh no, please gift me with all the details. An amorous tentacle monster sounds like something I'd like to see. I think we would find that we have many things in common. A woman with many limbs may find it hard to easily relate to others. Though from the screams, it sounds as if she's already busy. Stressed as they are, the voices still sound quite lovely. Have you ever considered forming some sort of choir? Some Baroque pieces would suit the environment perfectly. The ever present moaning in the background would be an excellent complement to the music as well. It seems to be getting louder... Could you please ask your friends to entertain themselves elsewhere? Ah, I suppose news of my profession has spread more quickly than I imagined. While I am more than willing to assist with my unique abilities, please desist from referring to it as a 'handjob.' I can sprout more than just hands, you know.
Poll Vote!
Character: Uriel
Series: Angel Sanctuary
Character Age: Quite possibly older than dirt. Appears 30ish.
Job: Obscure Rule Enforcer and Contraband Inspector
Canon: Thousands of years ago the Organic Angel Alexiel was cursed to face a tragic cycle of reincarnation. As punishment for defying God, in each of her lives she’d die an anguished, violent death. Mudou Setsuna is her current reincarnation. Having fallen in love with his sister, Sara, at an early age, Setsuna’s life seems doomed to tragedy just like Alexiel’s previous incarnations. However when Sara, sacrifices herself to save him, the cycle of Alexiel‘s curse is broken and Setsuna must embark on a journey to save his sister and the world. It’s there that he meets the archangel Uriel, angel of Death and Judgment.
It was Uriel who cursed Alexiel’s soul, damning her to an eternity of suffering. Overcome with guilt, he severed his own vocal chords and banished himself to Hades. He has since become a recluse, alone except for the animated doll (whom he very simplistically named “Doll”) he created to serve him. Uriel is naturally inclined toward peace and gentleness, and tries to show compassion to the dead when he can. However, his inability to deal with his guilt over Alexiel and the ruthlessness needed to punish sinners has led to him being emotionally unstable. This manifests in sudden, violent fits of temper when he becomes agitated. Due to his also being the elemental angel of Earth, his rage can cause massive damage, so in spite of his gentle nature, he is feared for his anger. His outbursts are so fierce that they scare Uriel himself. In their aftermath he grows distressed and harshly self-critical. He tends to speak formally and politely when he’s calm, with his language becoming more dramatic when he’s emotional.
Sample Entry:
There appears to be a misunderstanding. I perceive many ways my services may be needed in a place such as this, but the reason I was given for being called is unrelated to any of them. While I am experienced with judgment and punishment, enforcing obscure rules and regulations that have been placed on children imprisoned in a cursed swamp has little value to me. I'm certain there are more pressing problems at hand, such as the unrest of the dead. They are wretched creatures, these zombies. Soulless husks, lacking a purpose, they have little else to do but seek out brains and flesh. I happened upon a group of them attempting to perform what appeared to be the dance known as the "Macarena." With Madam Sayre being so insistent about my performing my assigned duties, I ordered them to stop immediately. However, once they no longer had the dance to distract them they turned their attention to chewing on each other. It was pitiful, indeed.
Since governing the dead is my natural province, I have decided to offer them what I help I can. In an effort to divert them from their constant hunger for brains, I am going to try to give them a new purpose. It is apparently required that I perform periodic inspections for certain banned items that your Director has been growing concerned about. I have chosen some of the more complete specimens to aid me in searching for contraband. These zombies, whom I have called One, Two, and Three, will be assisting me in my first endeavor. One will be helping with searches, since he has both eyes in his head and they appear to function as well as can be expected given his circumstance. Two has both her arms, and will be aiding in the collection of items. She is missing a few fingers but is, thus far, quite capable of holding a bag. Lastly, Three will be making inquiries with me. I realize his jaw is a little loose, but his voice and tongue seem to be intact.
Ah, no, Three, brains are not banned, therefore we will not be searching for them. And please do not attempt to eat One’s face; he will need his eyes for the inspections. Two, your remaining eye has fallen into the bag. You will need to remove it. …No, none of you may eat it, I will help return it to its socket in a moment. One, stop fighting with Two over the bag, that is not your job. If you continue yanking in that fashion she will lose her arm! You will all move away at once. I gave none of you permission to chew on me--
--DO YOU NOT HEAR ME? YOU WILL CEASE AT ONCE. I WILL NOT ABIDE SUCH DEFIANCE. I AM THE ANGEL OF DEATH, YOUR MASTER. DO AS I COMMAND OR I WILL STRING YOU UP BY WHAT REMAINS OF YOUR ENTRAILS AND REND YOUR BODIES TO DUST.
Oh… Such destruction. I can have such a hateful heart. I frighten even myself. I see now, I have little choice but to do this alone. Residents of Camp Fuck You Die, my name is Uriel, Archangel of Earth and Guardian of Hell’s gate. I am here for your scrunchies.
Poll Vote!
Character Name: Remiel
Series: The Sandman/Lucifer (DC Comics/Vertigo)
Age: a little younger than the universe-a little.
Job: Overseer and Improver of Camp's Torments
Canon: Remember that ugly ceramic pony you got for Christmas one year? So you regifted it to your younger sister, who regifted it to your cousin, because no one wanted the damn thing? Welcome to the history of Hell as it appears in the Vertigo comic label's mythos. God gave Hell to Lucifer, who decided he didn't want it after a good several billion years and regifted it to Dream of the Endless, who had a real pickle of a time deciding what to do with it. Eventually God decided to take back his gift, and, to oversee the redemption of the damned, he appointed Duma, the Angel of Silence, and Remiel, the Angel Who Whines Enough to Make Up for Duma.
Remiel was less than pleased with this turn of events and threatened to rebel against God, which of course caused him to Fall, so hey-as long as he was going to be in Hell anyway, he might as well be doing God's work. So Remiel decides, and he throws himself into the "redemption" of damned souls wholeheartedly, despite his fervent wish to be free of the responsibility. But while Remiel is good at speaking up for himself-he has a tendency towards self-righteous, pompous, wordy speeches, usually complaining about his situation or making empty threats-he has never been very good at actually standing up for himself, and his efforts usually lead nowhere. Nervous, awkward, controlling, prone to tantrums, and perpetually outclassed, Remiel is still an angel and really does love God and every one of the damned souls he tortures for all eternity. After all, Hell's tortures are only God's way of saying he cares about you and wants you to get better! Right?
Remiel is being taken from mid-Lucifer, before he [gives up control of Hell to Christopher Rudd].
Sample Entry:
Unacceptable. This is utterly inadmissible! I will speak with you, Madame Director! Your pride in presuming that you can veil yourself from the eyes of the Lord is matched only by your foolishness. Though I currently reside in Hell, you forget that I am an envoy of the Heavenly Father, and you are a helpless subject of His will! Yet you dare to interrupt me in the work that He charged me with. You must know the importance of this stage of His plan! Have you any idea what it takes to be an angel presiding over demons? Just last weekend, one of the lesser Dukes thought to amuse his flunkies by writing WASH ME in bile on the door of our tower. Perfectly good bile! How can God redeem His children if we run out of bile to drip in their eyes? Do you see why my constant vigilance and presence are required at this delicate stage? How dare you interfere?
You, in your arrogance, summon me to this place for-advice? I assure you, I make no habit of recreational torture. My God-given duty is not a hobby! The work we're doing is serious, and I refuse to let it sit unsupervised for the sake of your experiment. I can say with some certainty that you'll be meeting the vast eternity of Hell yourself sooner or later. It's your sinful soul that cries out for our help, not the state of your blood-spewing showers and forced cannibalism. Honestly. What could your prisoners possibly have done to deserve the years of anguish you've so presumptuously inflicted-
-Oh-oh my. Oh, dear. Did he really? And-that one over there? Oh, you're kidding. How many times? And him? He what with a what? Tsk, tsk. It just turns your stomach. Well, the Lord's forgiveness is infinite, and he shall be cleansed in the fire and broken by the wheel until he is fit to stand in the presence of our Lord once more. No-his own father? Dear me. He certainly won't be getting away with that in front of my Father.
Madame Director, I request that you allow me one day to take your offer into consideration. I will ponder the meaning of what I have seen here. After all, I must reflect upon the fact that somehow you were able to summon me to your side. It may be that my presence here is God's will. A test of some sort, my Lord? Have you finally freed me from Hell? This may be a stepping stone! Oh, Lord! To gaze upon your visage once more would fill me with-I'll contemplate you harder than ever! I'll contemplate every Word with which you grace the Heavenly Host with the entirety of my being, forever!
Ah, Madame Director, if I may? This clearing in the middle of Camp seems to be a place of much activity. I propose a pit be installed, filled with boiling oil, and ringed with flame. Perhaps some trees from which the prisoners can be hanged as they ruminate upon the misfortune of their sinful peers, smoldering below? Oh-God is going to be so happy with me!
Poll Vote!
Character: Emporio Ivankov
Series: One Piece
Character Age: DON'T YOU KNOW WHAT A RUDE QUESTION THAT IS TO ASK A LADY? (At least thirty maybe older)
Job: Motivational Speaker Genderswap Supervisor "Motivational Genderswapper"
Canon: Please note! Though not always accurate, Iva will be referred to as "he" in this canon section for simplicity's sake.
Sometimes, when you're writing a shounen manga, it seems like a good idea to write in Tim Curry as a character. You may think to yourself, "Gosh, I have no way to randomly turn male characters into female characters or vice-versa," and realize that the only solution to this is to write in an eight-foot-tall Sweet Transvestite with a terrible Eastern-European accent and magical Not A Real Doctor powers who runs his (and/or her) own magical queendom inside the walls of the world's greatest prison, where the inhabitants have all rejected the binary gender dynamic in favor of a fabulous, fish-netted omnigendered love fest.
Or maybe you haven't, but Eichiro Oda sure has.
Enter Emporio Ivankov: informally known as Iva to his loyal subjects. As the user of the Horo Horo no Mi (the Hormone Hormone Fruit), Iva is quite possibly the greatest doctor who has ever lived. But that doesn't make him a healer, oh no. Cancer, poison, plagues: Iva can help a living body or even entire nations fight these things, but only if the will and the strength to do so is already within them. This is a philosophy that permeates everything Iva does. Iva is only willing to lend his impressive power to help those who help themselves. He's also a Grade-A Crazy Motherfucker, prone to going on self-contradicting rambles, and staging his own musical numbers. While he can certainly be harsh, Iva's not always a hardass. Manage to impress him, and you're invited to the very best party in town. Make a whiny bitch of yourself, though, and you had best believe your current set of genitals are forfeit.
Sample:
Vell vell, vat have we here, hmm? Vat a pathetic and miserable lot you all are! You find yourselves in a veritable paradise and all you can do about it is vine. Vine, vine, vine. I shall summon ze vambulance zat it may fetch you forth to vine somewhere zat ze vining vill not reach my delicate little ears. Or perhaps you shall shut your vine-holes and cease to be little veenies long enough to see ze glory zat surrounds you.
You have your youth, many of you have your beauty, you live beneath a beautiful sky. You say, "Oh lovely Iva-chan, ve are trapped! Ve are not free." I hear you say it and I slap you for it! Here I go!
Freedom is vere and vhat you make it, my little fools. A country crippled by pestilence can heal; a man vith no legs can learn to fly, and a prison can be a kingdom but you must vill it! Make your own rules! Find your freedom vithin vhat is called captivity. Oh! It sounds so good to say~ I am filled vis passion and I must slap someone again.
Ha! Just kidding. I am a lady and a lady vould never resort to violence.
Vere vas I? Ah, yes. "Vaaaahaaaaboooohoo," you say! "I ate ze wrong cake and now my pecker is missing. I shall have to pee sitting doooown." Wrong! Zat is not true hardship! You vill live and love, in vhatever body your destiny gives you. You could be full of kidney stones and then you vould not pee at all, hmm? It's not ze pecker on the outside zat matters, it is ze pecker in your soul zat gives you ze strength to pee while you stand.
Vait! No! Vat am I saying!? Peckers on ze outside are ze most important peckers of zem all. I declare today "Everybody Pees Standing Up And Only Vears A Bra If Zey Vant To" Day! Anyone who does not have one yet, come forward to receive your pecker!
Poll Vote!
Character: Rain Jewlitt
Series: Immortal Rain
Character Age: 624 (appears to be in his mid-twenties)
Job: Faith in Humanity Repository.
Canon: Immortal Rain is the shoujo lovechild of Trigun and Trinity Blood. It is the story of Methuselah, a mysterious immortal with a bounty on his head, and Machika, the granddaughter of a famous assassin, who wants to find and kill him. Naturally, both main characters meet and while eluding other bounty hunters and running from Methuselah's past, gradually grow closer to each other. Violence, comedy, and adorable romance ensue.
Methuselah's real name is Rain Jewlitt. He's a priest--or used to be one before he became immortal. His love for people ultimately turned him into what he is. Six hundred years prior to the beginning of the story, a friend of his made him a bet: if Rain's fondness for humanity lingered by the time they reunited, they'd fight; if not, they would destroy the world together. Since he and his friend parted ways, Rain has spent the last six centuries traveling the world with bounty hunters hot on his heels, doing his best to evade capture (and to escape when unsuccessful). He doesn't seem to mind the struggle much, though. Rain is a classic Jesus with well-hidden angst, very capable of taking spears through the chest, tanks, and wrecking balls in stride. He's a loving guy and something of a spaz with a very silly, physical sense of humor. He cares very little for his own well-being and always sacrifices himself to protect others, even when the consequences are dangerous or downright life-threatening. He doesn't ask for much, really--though he does hope that one day he can become human again and live his life to an end like everyone else.
Sample Post:
Ah, I don't suppose you can tell me where I am, can you? I have a map, but it's a little charred--you see, I ran across these adorable baby ducklings and they . . . well, they weren't that adorable upon a closer look. My hair caught on fire! I managed to stumble my way to the lake, and when I got there this very nice monster tried to help me. Friendliest monster I've ever met, ha ha . . . ha. Anyway! I was told I was urgently needed here. I'm supposed to report to the head of the local church. It should be nearby, oh, if only there was a sign or some--welcome to Camp . . . huh, how did I miss that? That--that answers a lot of questions, actually. That really is an "F" there, isn't it? Sure looks like one. But still, I made it!
Now, if I've got this right and that's a very big "if"--this is a rehabilitation camp, right? Everyone here's had trouble in the past and you all want to get over it--it doesn't matter what it was, so I won't ask. We're all in the same boat now, so I'll get straight to the point: I'm here to help you. I'm sure you've heard that before, and probably more than once. Common thing to hear. People tend to have the best intentions, after all. I know, I know what that sounds like, I've been on the wrong end of a spear myself--metaphorically speaking, of course. But I'm serious about this, I'm here to help you regain your faith in people and I'll stay here for as long as necessary.
It's amazing what humans are capable of! They can become anything. If there was someone who made you bitter, made you angry, put you in the position of having to chase your own disembodied arm, then there must be someone who can do the opposite. Make everything alright when you didn't think it ever could. There will always be a helping hand somewhere, you just have to be willing to take it . . . The hand. With your hand. Not your--never mind. It may sound trite, but you really do find hope in the strangest of places. The strangest of people. They make getting into trouble worth it.
. . . unless that trouble involves something extreme, of course. Wrecking balls come to mind. Randomly. No reason at all, they just sound really extreme.
So with all that said: together we'll turn you over a new leaf, find your calling, maybe even find you a girlfriend! You, not me. I'm a priest. I do hear it's hard to get back on the horse--bike--disco stick? I don't get out much--but it's just a matter of looking forward.
For our first exercise, we'll visit this place called YouTube and watch videos of children laughing. I think children are one of those miracles in life that we don't appreciate often enough, much like watching the sunrise or stopping to smell the roses. It's okay, I won't be too hard on you. We won't watch more than five minutes at a time.
Poll Vote!
Character: Zachariah
Series: Supernatural
Character Age: Appears to be in his fifties but is probably at least a few thousand years old.
Job: Party Planner
Canon: [SPOILER ALERT] Once upon a time, there were two brothers called Sam and Dean Winchester, who traveled across the country to exorcise spirits, hunt monsters, occasionally go head to head with insane axe murderers, and then some. Life was pretty simple (and I use the word "simple" very loosely here)... until they accidentally freed Lucifer and triggered the Apocalypse. So now not only do they have spirits and monsters to deal with, but angels and demons have joined in on the fun, too. Oh, joy!
Zachariah is one of the aforementioned angels, except he's a little more special due to being the head honcho of Heaven now that God's gone. At first, the Winchesters thought that he wanted to stop the Apocalypse just as much as they did, but nope, it turns out he wanted it to happen in order to bring Paradise on Earth. He may appear sarcastic and happy-go-lucky at first, but beneath that jolly, wise-cracking exterior lies a cold, manipulative mastermind who's not afraid to use anyone and everyone around him to accomplish his own goals. Despite being an angel, Zachariah isn't as virtuous as you'd think he'd be. He's not only selfish and arrogant, he's also stubborn, and believes that everything he's done-torturing the Winchesters, letting the Apocalypse happen, etc.-is, in fact, for the greater good. If you get on his bad side, you'd better start running or be ready to face some unfortunate results. Once he sets his mind on something, Zachariah won't give up until he has what he wants, no matter what the cost.
Note: Since he's an angel, even catching a glimpse of Zachariah's true form will burn your eyes out, so in order to solve that problem, he inhabits a human vessel.
Sample Post:
Look, Ms. Sayre, I understand that you're depressed because your lover's dead and you want to avenge him and ya-dee-ya-dee-ya, but here's the thing; your 'cursed summer camp' plan? It got old years ago. It's time to move on-or at least pick somewhere more fun if you're really that gung-ho about finding your fiancé's killer. I haven't seen so much depression since... well, the Great Depression!
Take this gorilla over here for example. Boy, he doesn't look happy at all... Ah, excuse us for a minute, Ms. Sayre, I'll sort this misunderstanding out-no, you won't get any comfort from me, so you can let go of my suit now. There, much better. I was afraid that I would have to get serious for a second there. Now where was I? Oh, yes, brightening the place up. What do you say to a party? It's all about sex and booze these days, you know. Hey, just because this meat suit looks old, doesn't mean I don't keep up with the times. Although it's not like they've changed that much since Sodom got roasted.
I knew you'd see it my way! Just leave everything to me, Ms. Sayre. Once I'm done here, your camp will make Woodstock look like a funeral.
Now, the first thing a party needs is a place to throw it. Alright, my good ape, it seems like we're stuck with each other for a little while longer if I'm going to get this party up and running. Let's say I wanted to have a fun time, where should I go? And no, "your pants" is not an option. I'm looking for an area with lots of space-maybe somewhere outdoors. Trust me, it's a lot better than putting a bunch of rowdy teenagers together in an enclosed area. That's right, an open, brightly lit place, which means no inappropriate touchings in dark corners.
I hate to break it to you, Ms. Sayre, but you really need to teach your welcome party the difference between 'welcoming' and 'molestation'. It could give people the wrong idea. I don't know about you, but if I were an innocent little camper who'd just wandered in here, I'd be pretty annoyed... Well, actually, I am already pretty annoyed regardless. Repeat after me, you smelly, overgrown monkey: personal space is key.
... Maybe I'm not making myself clear enough, but usually when people tell you to let go of them, they really do mean it. "No" will never mean "yes" no matter how many times I say it. Alright, I'm going to count to three and if your grubby hands aren't off me by then, things are going to get... messy, to say the least. One... two... three...
Great, now my suit is ruined. You know you'll be paying for the dry-clean bill, right?
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!
Character: Nico Robin
Series: One Piece
Character's Age: 28
Job: Arms Dealer
Canon: One Piece is a canon where nearly everyone awesome is a pirate, and all those pirates are racing down the the fiercest ocean ever, in search of the treasure left behind by the Pirate King, Gol. D Roger. The story follows Monkey D. Luffy and his crew, the Straw Hats, on their quest to find that treasure, the "One Piece." To keep things interesting, One Piece introduces the Devil Fruit, a rare fruit that grants a one-of-a-kind ability in exchange for being completely useless in water. Each fruit is unique, meaning just about any superpower you can imagine is present somewhere.
Nico Robin is the most mature member of Strawhats. Somehow, despite the insanity of the rest of the crew, she manages to maintain her dignity and remains the last bastion of reason aboard the ship. She is quite calm and easy-going, but has a wickedly morbid sense of humour. Her profession as archaeologist and her scholarly demeanor mean she is very eloquent and well spoken, even in the tensest of situations. Despite her general laid-back attitude, Robin cares very deeply for history, and the preservation thereof; those who are ignorant of history's importance or careless with the remaining artifacts are often punished with no remorse on her part. Robin has eaten the Hana Hana no Mi, or Bloom Bloom Fruit, which essentially allows Robin to replicate and "bloom" any of her body parts from nearby surfaces. In combat, she uses this to sprout hands on enemies and contort their bodies painfully. Robin has been pursued by the World Government since a very young age, and a lifetime on the run has caused her to become someone who is slow to trust. Eventually, Robin accepts her role as archaeologist and mother in the somewhat eccentric family, and settles into being a true Straw Hat, with only her dreams ahead of her.
Sample Post:
If the weathering and wear is in accordance to that of similar locales, this bit of iron ore could be much older than the surrounding area. The large displacement of the land here is the likely reason it has been uncovered. Of course, the landslide I inadvertently caused likely did not help matters. Of course, the landslide I inadvertently caused likely did not help matters. Ah... how tragic, it appears that several people were caught in the aftermath. Could the carvings here be their work? There are several depictions of a heavenly body with a grotesque face plummeting towards an encampment. I suspect the message underneath is a warning or description of the event-- it's certainly primitive, but there are clear references to three days. The dialect isn't one I'm familiar with, though, so it may be the period in which this event occurred, or a the remaining time before the event. While I was aware the ruins here were likely going to be something with which I had no experience, I did not realize they would be quite so foreign. The environment is very enjoyable; the use of human skulls and mutated skeletons is especially charming. I suspect there will be a great many items of interest, and at least a little adventure. Of course, any locale that needs an "arms dealer" will almost certainly have some dangerous elements.
There is a chance more artifacts such as these lie in the surrounding forest... Ah, the inhabitants do look quite rough, don't they. Excuse me, sir, but perhaps you could... oh my, I did not expect to encounter zombies during this expedition. ...Ah, I apologize, I should have realized that you only have a slight skin condition. It was very insensitive of me, I must agree. You might consider a change in your nightly facial care regimen; it seems to have left you with a slightly gray pallor. The weather probably does not help matters. I admit that I am not used to this humidity myself. Living at sea, I have rarely been exposed to this kind of climate. Oh no, please do not worry about me, it is hardly anything I haven't experienced before. Stranger things have happened on the Grand Line. Now, I can't help but notice that you have been shedding limbs. Mm, I don't think it will help you very much to try and stick them back on. The greenish tinge is not an especially healthy characteristic. It's time for you to give up your pretense, don't you agree, Mr. Zombie?
Perhaps to make up for that little bit of fun, you could tell me more about this area. Oh no, please gift me with all the details. An amorous tentacle monster sounds like something I'd like to see. I think we would find that we have many things in common. A woman with many limbs may find it hard to easily relate to others. Though from the screams, it sounds as if she's already busy. Stressed as they are, the voices still sound quite lovely. Have you ever considered forming some sort of choir? Some Baroque pieces would suit the environment perfectly. The ever present moaning in the background would be an excellent complement to the music as well. It seems to be getting louder... Could you please ask your friends to entertain themselves elsewhere? Ah, I suppose news of my profession has spread more quickly than I imagined. While I am more than willing to assist with my unique abilities, please desist from referring to it as a 'handjob.' I can sprout more than just hands, you know.
Poll Vote!
Character: Uriel
Series: Angel Sanctuary
Character Age: Quite possibly older than dirt. Appears 30ish.
Job: Obscure Rule Enforcer and Contraband Inspector
Canon: Thousands of years ago the Organic Angel Alexiel was cursed to face a tragic cycle of reincarnation. As punishment for defying God, in each of her lives she’d die an anguished, violent death. Mudou Setsuna is her current reincarnation. Having fallen in love with his sister, Sara, at an early age, Setsuna’s life seems doomed to tragedy just like Alexiel’s previous incarnations. However when Sara, sacrifices herself to save him, the cycle of Alexiel‘s curse is broken and Setsuna must embark on a journey to save his sister and the world. It’s there that he meets the archangel Uriel, angel of Death and Judgment.
It was Uriel who cursed Alexiel’s soul, damning her to an eternity of suffering. Overcome with guilt, he severed his own vocal chords and banished himself to Hades. He has since become a recluse, alone except for the animated doll (whom he very simplistically named “Doll”) he created to serve him. Uriel is naturally inclined toward peace and gentleness, and tries to show compassion to the dead when he can. However, his inability to deal with his guilt over Alexiel and the ruthlessness needed to punish sinners has led to him being emotionally unstable. This manifests in sudden, violent fits of temper when he becomes agitated. Due to his also being the elemental angel of Earth, his rage can cause massive damage, so in spite of his gentle nature, he is feared for his anger. His outbursts are so fierce that they scare Uriel himself. In their aftermath he grows distressed and harshly self-critical. He tends to speak formally and politely when he’s calm, with his language becoming more dramatic when he’s emotional.
Sample Entry:
There appears to be a misunderstanding. I perceive many ways my services may be needed in a place such as this, but the reason I was given for being called is unrelated to any of them. While I am experienced with judgment and punishment, enforcing obscure rules and regulations that have been placed on children imprisoned in a cursed swamp has little value to me. I'm certain there are more pressing problems at hand, such as the unrest of the dead. They are wretched creatures, these zombies. Soulless husks, lacking a purpose, they have little else to do but seek out brains and flesh. I happened upon a group of them attempting to perform what appeared to be the dance known as the "Macarena." With Madam Sayre being so insistent about my performing my assigned duties, I ordered them to stop immediately. However, once they no longer had the dance to distract them they turned their attention to chewing on each other. It was pitiful, indeed.
Since governing the dead is my natural province, I have decided to offer them what I help I can. In an effort to divert them from their constant hunger for brains, I am going to try to give them a new purpose. It is apparently required that I perform periodic inspections for certain banned items that your Director has been growing concerned about. I have chosen some of the more complete specimens to aid me in searching for contraband. These zombies, whom I have called One, Two, and Three, will be assisting me in my first endeavor. One will be helping with searches, since he has both eyes in his head and they appear to function as well as can be expected given his circumstance. Two has both her arms, and will be aiding in the collection of items. She is missing a few fingers but is, thus far, quite capable of holding a bag. Lastly, Three will be making inquiries with me. I realize his jaw is a little loose, but his voice and tongue seem to be intact.
Ah, no, Three, brains are not banned, therefore we will not be searching for them. And please do not attempt to eat One’s face; he will need his eyes for the inspections. Two, your remaining eye has fallen into the bag. You will need to remove it. …No, none of you may eat it, I will help return it to its socket in a moment. One, stop fighting with Two over the bag, that is not your job. If you continue yanking in that fashion she will lose her arm! You will all move away at once. I gave none of you permission to chew on me--
--DO YOU NOT HEAR ME? YOU WILL CEASE AT ONCE. I WILL NOT ABIDE SUCH DEFIANCE. I AM THE ANGEL OF DEATH, YOUR MASTER. DO AS I COMMAND OR I WILL STRING YOU UP BY WHAT REMAINS OF YOUR ENTRAILS AND REND YOUR BODIES TO DUST.
Oh… Such destruction. I can have such a hateful heart. I frighten even myself. I see now, I have little choice but to do this alone. Residents of Camp Fuck You Die, my name is Uriel, Archangel of Earth and Guardian of Hell’s gate. I am here for your scrunchies.
Poll Vote!
Character Name: Remiel
Series: The Sandman/Lucifer (DC Comics/Vertigo)
Age: a little younger than the universe-a little.
Job: Overseer and Improver of Camp's Torments
Canon: Remember that ugly ceramic pony you got for Christmas one year? So you regifted it to your younger sister, who regifted it to your cousin, because no one wanted the damn thing? Welcome to the history of Hell as it appears in the Vertigo comic label's mythos. God gave Hell to Lucifer, who decided he didn't want it after a good several billion years and regifted it to Dream of the Endless, who had a real pickle of a time deciding what to do with it. Eventually God decided to take back his gift, and, to oversee the redemption of the damned, he appointed Duma, the Angel of Silence, and Remiel, the Angel Who Whines Enough to Make Up for Duma.
Remiel was less than pleased with this turn of events and threatened to rebel against God, which of course caused him to Fall, so hey-as long as he was going to be in Hell anyway, he might as well be doing God's work. So Remiel decides, and he throws himself into the "redemption" of damned souls wholeheartedly, despite his fervent wish to be free of the responsibility. But while Remiel is good at speaking up for himself-he has a tendency towards self-righteous, pompous, wordy speeches, usually complaining about his situation or making empty threats-he has never been very good at actually standing up for himself, and his efforts usually lead nowhere. Nervous, awkward, controlling, prone to tantrums, and perpetually outclassed, Remiel is still an angel and really does love God and every one of the damned souls he tortures for all eternity. After all, Hell's tortures are only God's way of saying he cares about you and wants you to get better! Right?
Remiel is being taken from mid-Lucifer, before he [gives up control of Hell to Christopher Rudd].
Sample Entry:
Unacceptable. This is utterly inadmissible! I will speak with you, Madame Director! Your pride in presuming that you can veil yourself from the eyes of the Lord is matched only by your foolishness. Though I currently reside in Hell, you forget that I am an envoy of the Heavenly Father, and you are a helpless subject of His will! Yet you dare to interrupt me in the work that He charged me with. You must know the importance of this stage of His plan! Have you any idea what it takes to be an angel presiding over demons? Just last weekend, one of the lesser Dukes thought to amuse his flunkies by writing WASH ME in bile on the door of our tower. Perfectly good bile! How can God redeem His children if we run out of bile to drip in their eyes? Do you see why my constant vigilance and presence are required at this delicate stage? How dare you interfere?
You, in your arrogance, summon me to this place for-advice? I assure you, I make no habit of recreational torture. My God-given duty is not a hobby! The work we're doing is serious, and I refuse to let it sit unsupervised for the sake of your experiment. I can say with some certainty that you'll be meeting the vast eternity of Hell yourself sooner or later. It's your sinful soul that cries out for our help, not the state of your blood-spewing showers and forced cannibalism. Honestly. What could your prisoners possibly have done to deserve the years of anguish you've so presumptuously inflicted-
-Oh-oh my. Oh, dear. Did he really? And-that one over there? Oh, you're kidding. How many times? And him? He what with a what? Tsk, tsk. It just turns your stomach. Well, the Lord's forgiveness is infinite, and he shall be cleansed in the fire and broken by the wheel until he is fit to stand in the presence of our Lord once more. No-his own father? Dear me. He certainly won't be getting away with that in front of my Father.
Madame Director, I request that you allow me one day to take your offer into consideration. I will ponder the meaning of what I have seen here. After all, I must reflect upon the fact that somehow you were able to summon me to your side. It may be that my presence here is God's will. A test of some sort, my Lord? Have you finally freed me from Hell? This may be a stepping stone! Oh, Lord! To gaze upon your visage once more would fill me with-I'll contemplate you harder than ever! I'll contemplate every Word with which you grace the Heavenly Host with the entirety of my being, forever!
Ah, Madame Director, if I may? This clearing in the middle of Camp seems to be a place of much activity. I propose a pit be installed, filled with boiling oil, and ringed with flame. Perhaps some trees from which the prisoners can be hanged as they ruminate upon the misfortune of their sinful peers, smoldering below? Oh-God is going to be so happy with me!
Poll Vote!
Character: Emporio Ivankov
Series: One Piece
Character Age: DON'T YOU KNOW WHAT A RUDE QUESTION THAT IS TO ASK A LADY? (At least thirty maybe older)
Job: Motivational Speaker Genderswap Supervisor "Motivational Genderswapper"
Canon: Please note! Though not always accurate, Iva will be referred to as "he" in this canon section for simplicity's sake.
Sometimes, when you're writing a shounen manga, it seems like a good idea to write in Tim Curry as a character. You may think to yourself, "Gosh, I have no way to randomly turn male characters into female characters or vice-versa," and realize that the only solution to this is to write in an eight-foot-tall Sweet Transvestite with a terrible Eastern-European accent and magical Not A Real Doctor powers who runs his (and/or her) own magical queendom inside the walls of the world's greatest prison, where the inhabitants have all rejected the binary gender dynamic in favor of a fabulous, fish-netted omnigendered love fest.
Or maybe you haven't, but Eichiro Oda sure has.
Enter Emporio Ivankov: informally known as Iva to his loyal subjects. As the user of the Horo Horo no Mi (the Hormone Hormone Fruit), Iva is quite possibly the greatest doctor who has ever lived. But that doesn't make him a healer, oh no. Cancer, poison, plagues: Iva can help a living body or even entire nations fight these things, but only if the will and the strength to do so is already within them. This is a philosophy that permeates everything Iva does. Iva is only willing to lend his impressive power to help those who help themselves. He's also a Grade-A Crazy Motherfucker, prone to going on self-contradicting rambles, and staging his own musical numbers. While he can certainly be harsh, Iva's not always a hardass. Manage to impress him, and you're invited to the very best party in town. Make a whiny bitch of yourself, though, and you had best believe your current set of genitals are forfeit.
Sample:
Vell vell, vat have we here, hmm? Vat a pathetic and miserable lot you all are! You find yourselves in a veritable paradise and all you can do about it is vine. Vine, vine, vine. I shall summon ze vambulance zat it may fetch you forth to vine somewhere zat ze vining vill not reach my delicate little ears. Or perhaps you shall shut your vine-holes and cease to be little veenies long enough to see ze glory zat surrounds you.
You have your youth, many of you have your beauty, you live beneath a beautiful sky. You say, "Oh lovely Iva-chan, ve are trapped! Ve are not free." I hear you say it and I slap you for it! Here I go!
Freedom is vere and vhat you make it, my little fools. A country crippled by pestilence can heal; a man vith no legs can learn to fly, and a prison can be a kingdom but you must vill it! Make your own rules! Find your freedom vithin vhat is called captivity. Oh! It sounds so good to say~ I am filled vis passion and I must slap someone again.
Ha! Just kidding. I am a lady and a lady vould never resort to violence.
Vere vas I? Ah, yes. "Vaaaahaaaaboooohoo," you say! "I ate ze wrong cake and now my pecker is missing. I shall have to pee sitting doooown." Wrong! Zat is not true hardship! You vill live and love, in vhatever body your destiny gives you. You could be full of kidney stones and then you vould not pee at all, hmm? It's not ze pecker on the outside zat matters, it is ze pecker in your soul zat gives you ze strength to pee while you stand.
Vait! No! Vat am I saying!? Peckers on ze outside are ze most important peckers of zem all. I declare today "Everybody Pees Standing Up And Only Vears A Bra If Zey Vant To" Day! Anyone who does not have one yet, come forward to receive your pecker!
Poll Vote!
Character: Rain Jewlitt
Series: Immortal Rain
Character Age: 624 (appears to be in his mid-twenties)
Job: Faith in Humanity Repository.
Canon: Immortal Rain is the shoujo lovechild of Trigun and Trinity Blood. It is the story of Methuselah, a mysterious immortal with a bounty on his head, and Machika, the granddaughter of a famous assassin, who wants to find and kill him. Naturally, both main characters meet and while eluding other bounty hunters and running from Methuselah's past, gradually grow closer to each other. Violence, comedy, and adorable romance ensue.
Methuselah's real name is Rain Jewlitt. He's a priest--or used to be one before he became immortal. His love for people ultimately turned him into what he is. Six hundred years prior to the beginning of the story, a friend of his made him a bet: if Rain's fondness for humanity lingered by the time they reunited, they'd fight; if not, they would destroy the world together. Since he and his friend parted ways, Rain has spent the last six centuries traveling the world with bounty hunters hot on his heels, doing his best to evade capture (and to escape when unsuccessful). He doesn't seem to mind the struggle much, though. Rain is a classic Jesus with well-hidden angst, very capable of taking spears through the chest, tanks, and wrecking balls in stride. He's a loving guy and something of a spaz with a very silly, physical sense of humor. He cares very little for his own well-being and always sacrifices himself to protect others, even when the consequences are dangerous or downright life-threatening. He doesn't ask for much, really--though he does hope that one day he can become human again and live his life to an end like everyone else.
Sample Post:
Ah, I don't suppose you can tell me where I am, can you? I have a map, but it's a little charred--you see, I ran across these adorable baby ducklings and they . . . well, they weren't that adorable upon a closer look. My hair caught on fire! I managed to stumble my way to the lake, and when I got there this very nice monster tried to help me. Friendliest monster I've ever met, ha ha . . . ha. Anyway! I was told I was urgently needed here. I'm supposed to report to the head of the local church. It should be nearby, oh, if only there was a sign or some--welcome to Camp . . . huh, how did I miss that? That--that answers a lot of questions, actually. That really is an "F" there, isn't it? Sure looks like one. But still, I made it!
Now, if I've got this right and that's a very big "if"--this is a rehabilitation camp, right? Everyone here's had trouble in the past and you all want to get over it--it doesn't matter what it was, so I won't ask. We're all in the same boat now, so I'll get straight to the point: I'm here to help you. I'm sure you've heard that before, and probably more than once. Common thing to hear. People tend to have the best intentions, after all. I know, I know what that sounds like, I've been on the wrong end of a spear myself--metaphorically speaking, of course. But I'm serious about this, I'm here to help you regain your faith in people and I'll stay here for as long as necessary.
It's amazing what humans are capable of! They can become anything. If there was someone who made you bitter, made you angry, put you in the position of having to chase your own disembodied arm, then there must be someone who can do the opposite. Make everything alright when you didn't think it ever could. There will always be a helping hand somewhere, you just have to be willing to take it . . . The hand. With your hand. Not your--never mind. It may sound trite, but you really do find hope in the strangest of places. The strangest of people. They make getting into trouble worth it.
. . . unless that trouble involves something extreme, of course. Wrecking balls come to mind. Randomly. No reason at all, they just sound really extreme.
So with all that said: together we'll turn you over a new leaf, find your calling, maybe even find you a girlfriend! You, not me. I'm a priest. I do hear it's hard to get back on the horse--bike--disco stick? I don't get out much--but it's just a matter of looking forward.
For our first exercise, we'll visit this place called YouTube and watch videos of children laughing. I think children are one of those miracles in life that we don't appreciate often enough, much like watching the sunrise or stopping to smell the roses. It's okay, I won't be too hard on you. We won't watch more than five minutes at a time.
Poll Vote!
Character: Zachariah
Series: Supernatural
Character Age: Appears to be in his fifties but is probably at least a few thousand years old.
Job: Party Planner
Canon: [SPOILER ALERT] Once upon a time, there were two brothers called Sam and Dean Winchester, who traveled across the country to exorcise spirits, hunt monsters, occasionally go head to head with insane axe murderers, and then some. Life was pretty simple (and I use the word "simple" very loosely here)... until they accidentally freed Lucifer and triggered the Apocalypse. So now not only do they have spirits and monsters to deal with, but angels and demons have joined in on the fun, too. Oh, joy!
Zachariah is one of the aforementioned angels, except he's a little more special due to being the head honcho of Heaven now that God's gone. At first, the Winchesters thought that he wanted to stop the Apocalypse just as much as they did, but nope, it turns out he wanted it to happen in order to bring Paradise on Earth. He may appear sarcastic and happy-go-lucky at first, but beneath that jolly, wise-cracking exterior lies a cold, manipulative mastermind who's not afraid to use anyone and everyone around him to accomplish his own goals. Despite being an angel, Zachariah isn't as virtuous as you'd think he'd be. He's not only selfish and arrogant, he's also stubborn, and believes that everything he's done-torturing the Winchesters, letting the Apocalypse happen, etc.-is, in fact, for the greater good. If you get on his bad side, you'd better start running or be ready to face some unfortunate results. Once he sets his mind on something, Zachariah won't give up until he has what he wants, no matter what the cost.
Note: Since he's an angel, even catching a glimpse of Zachariah's true form will burn your eyes out, so in order to solve that problem, he inhabits a human vessel.
Sample Post:
Look, Ms. Sayre, I understand that you're depressed because your lover's dead and you want to avenge him and ya-dee-ya-dee-ya, but here's the thing; your 'cursed summer camp' plan? It got old years ago. It's time to move on-or at least pick somewhere more fun if you're really that gung-ho about finding your fiancé's killer. I haven't seen so much depression since... well, the Great Depression!
Take this gorilla over here for example. Boy, he doesn't look happy at all... Ah, excuse us for a minute, Ms. Sayre, I'll sort this misunderstanding out-no, you won't get any comfort from me, so you can let go of my suit now. There, much better. I was afraid that I would have to get serious for a second there. Now where was I? Oh, yes, brightening the place up. What do you say to a party? It's all about sex and booze these days, you know. Hey, just because this meat suit looks old, doesn't mean I don't keep up with the times. Although it's not like they've changed that much since Sodom got roasted.
I knew you'd see it my way! Just leave everything to me, Ms. Sayre. Once I'm done here, your camp will make Woodstock look like a funeral.
Now, the first thing a party needs is a place to throw it. Alright, my good ape, it seems like we're stuck with each other for a little while longer if I'm going to get this party up and running. Let's say I wanted to have a fun time, where should I go? And no, "your pants" is not an option. I'm looking for an area with lots of space-maybe somewhere outdoors. Trust me, it's a lot better than putting a bunch of rowdy teenagers together in an enclosed area. That's right, an open, brightly lit place, which means no inappropriate touchings in dark corners.
I hate to break it to you, Ms. Sayre, but you really need to teach your welcome party the difference between 'welcoming' and 'molestation'. It could give people the wrong idea. I don't know about you, but if I were an innocent little camper who'd just wandered in here, I'd be pretty annoyed... Well, actually, I am already pretty annoyed regardless. Repeat after me, you smelly, overgrown monkey: personal space is key.
... Maybe I'm not making myself clear enough, but usually when people tell you to let go of them, they really do mean it. "No" will never mean "yes" no matter how many times I say it. Alright, I'm going to count to three and if your grubby hands aren't off me by then, things are going to get... messy, to say the least. One... two... three...
Great, now my suit is ruined. You know you'll be paying for the dry-clean bill, right?
Poll Vote!