(no subject)
Second round! Box's post is still open, but holy crap, you guys voted fast. ♥ READ THE NOTE ON HERS, it applies for this one too. Also, dup at the end of this batch!
Remember!
- Applicants, respond anonymously.
- If you're going to do the whole "ask me if I voted you out!" thing, please state who you voted out.
- No speculating about the identity of the applicants!
Now VOTE. Eh, I think we're good here. Closed!
Character: Balthier
Series: Final Fantasy XII
Age: 22
Job: Plunderer of Booty
Canon: Balthier is the leading man of Final Fantasy XII (caution: this is not as true as he may have you believe). As such, he is blessed with dashing good looks, polished social skills, a nice and crisp wardrobe, a beautiful partner and the obligatory Family Emo.
Balthier is free from all chains and obligations of a country, answers only to his Viera partner Fran and his ship. He was born and bred as part of the higher class, but due to circumstances revealed later in the game, he left that lifestyle behind to seek the freedom of the skies and his airship Strahl. He's very polite and very dashing, though he can also be quite plainly an ass, exploiting weaknesses and twisting words. He doesn't miss many details, much to people's chagrin later. He will do almost anything for treasure with worth you can plainly measure.
Sample Post:
A shambling corpse here, a lost soul there, and enough zombies to choke even the holiest of monsters. And I'm not talking about their throats. What a nice welcome, and here I was thinking this lovely camp wasn't hospitable enough. You really know how to make a man feel right at home. Too bad there's not as much loot as one would hope. I don't suppose anyone here would want to buy any blood-stained necklaces or tattered clothing.
Right. I wouldn't want to, either. Nothing glamorous about those. Nothing shiny and we're all about shiny, aren't we?
My name is Balthier, our leading man. I regret to say that I'm looking for something more valuable and this is the route showing on the map that we bought from the moogle. Not that kind of moogle, I've already asked.
By "we", of course, my partner and I. We arrived here on our airship. Perhaps you've seen her? Sleek and fast. Beautiful and a sight for sore eyes. Strong and able to withstand battle. You'd know if you've seen her. The airship's recognizable, too.
As much as I would love to stay and chit-chat all day, I've a schedule to keep to. Tombs to plunder, princesses to kidnap. I've got to keep up the sky pirate life, even if "yarr" and "yo ho ho and a bottle of rum" aren't usually in my vocabulary, thank you for asking. And my friend, it looks as though "bath" and "whole limbs" are not in yours. I could teach you a thing or two.
First thing: Hold out until the last moment. The best option is almost always option number three. Big treasure chests don't always mean that the treasure inside is worth it; some are beasts. Pull out if the going gets tough; it may be a mess at first, but it's a much safer in the long run. Keep a lookout handy! Remember to always protect yourself. Don't make any deals with young people with big blue eyes; it only gives you a headache the morning after.
Second thing: Don't try to gnaw on the arm of the man with the gun. Especially not on his cleaner sleeve.
Poll Vote!
Character: Randy "Ryo" Maclean
Series: FAKE
Age: 28
Job: Trip Leader
Canon: Randy "Ryo" Maclean is a Nice Guy. He gets along with children, donates his hard-earned money to charity, and completes his paperwork in a timely and orderly manner. Girls say he's sweet. Guys say he's swell. And while everyone says that Nice Guys finish last, Ryo's not doing all that bad for himself. He's got his own place, a kid to take care of, and a guy who's head over heels in love with him. Too bad Ryo's about as dense as a brick.
Despite being a fine member of the New York Police Department, Ryo's keen detective skills don't seem to extend outside of the job. He's almost completely oblivious to matters of the heart (and hormones) when relating directly to himself; it's only natural seeing as he's the type to always put others before himself. He's far from being an easy target though. Ryo's still a damn good cop who keeps his thoughts and emotions carefully guarded and has a bite to back up his bark.
Sample Post:
Hello, my name is Randy Maclean and I'll be your new Trip Leader. I've been assigned to organize field trips into the areas around camp in order to help everyone gain a better appreciation for the surrounding scenery and wildlife. Miss Director has said that camp already had a very fine and intimate appreciation of everyone, so it would only be fair to help campers do the same.
I'll admit, I don't have very much experience in this particular job, but the director has been helpful and given me a few self-help books. Though, some of the titles were a bit... misleading. "The Forest Touches Me" didn't turn out to be the sort of book I thought it would.
Hmm, some of these other books look a little more youth-friendly. Those other ones must have been slipped in by accident, though that doesn't explain why she had them in the first place. This is probably a question better left unanswered, actually. Oh, this one gives lists of suggested items to bring, even clothing. Now let's see... Ah, here we go! "It's advisable to bring along a light jacket for changing weather conditions and a hat to keep the sun out of your eyes. To keep your man's eye on you, try opening your shirt a little and rubbing suntan oil o-" ... H-hold on. I think we'll be skipping this section.
Ahaa... continuing on. First aid is also an important part of any outdoor trip. You never know when the unexpected injury will happen and it's best that we're all prepared to deal with whatever arises. A skill I'd like everyone to have some experience in is CPR. To instruct everyone on the proper procedures, I've found a training dummy out in the woods. A strange place to keep one, propped against a tree like that. It may be a little old and green and decaying but it'll do just fine for our presentation.
Lay out the body on a flat surface. Tilt the head back and check for signs of consciousness. Please don't check by shaking, strangling, kicking, or threatening to shoot the body. Or actually shooting the body. Remember, the point is to help people, not give them more problems. Now, if there are no signs of breathing, pinch the nose and cover the mouth with yours. Was this dummy smiling like that before? Then give two, one second breaths. Like thi-
... M-MMPH!!
Poll Vote!
Character: Manji
Series: Blade of the Immortal
Age: 26 (immortal)
Job: Zombie Culture Study and Understanding
Canon: Blade of the Immortal is set in feudal Japan with a sharp modern twist on the language, where the Shinsengumi are the "world's baddest ronin gang" and yotaka are hookers - think Samurai Champloo.
When Manji of the Twelve Swords was about to die a dog's death, an eight-hundred year old nun on a quest to save some bastard souls just happened to be passing by. She decided to give Manji the means to find his path in life, and stuffed his body full of magical parasitic worms - worms that heal any wound and glue any limb, effectively turning him into an immortal samurai-style zombie! It's time to give up the sword, shave his head, and settle into a zen lifestyle as a monk, right?
Yeah, right. Manji is tough, surly, arrogant, and blunt. He has no patience for fancy words or bullshit, and his two talents are killing people and mouthing off. But it's not like he's a bad guy, so he cuts a bet with the nun: if he kills a thousand evil men, he gets back his right to die in peace. Thanks to this vow, but mostly thanks to the fact that he's a protective sucker with a little sister complex, he becomes the bodyguard of a sixteen-year-old girl with a hell of a sob story. Mellowed a touch since gaining his immortality, he now spends his days following her all over the country, keeping her alive on her quest to kill her parents' murderers and occasionally letting her buy extra dessert with a pat on her head. Oh, and he loses his limbs so often in the process of protecting her that he and his allies spend more time complaining about finding them than actually worrying.
Sample Post:
Normally I'd say something here like, "First things first: help me find my fucking leg." But I have some circumstances, and they say I gotta make myself an introduction and talk to you twerps for a spell. So don't start thinking I'm fine and dandy with having three out of four limbs at the moment - in fact, I am in a lot of fucking pain. Which can be your first lesson of the day! Now everyone shut the hell up and put your damn shotguns down long enough to open your friggin' ears.
I see a few of you sharper brats have some gears turning already. I'll give it to you straight: I'm your new counselor, here to shed a little light on the mysteries of not being able to die from a "personal perspective," or some highfalutin horseshit like that. Your leader-woman's a born comedian, kids, because when I told her I was the last immortal son of a bitch out there to teach a pack of brats some tolerance, she said I was perfect. So I hope you don't mind if I'm a little rough around the edges on my teaching style, but what you see is what you get. Well, part of it. The rest of me is somewhere back in the damn woods, heh.
Let me set one thing straight right off the bat - I ain't one of your "zombies." I ain't here to build happy bridges of understanding, and I sure as hell ain't gonna tell you to quit shooting them. Better them than me. Manji-sensei isn't here to be nice; he's here to be informative. For example, getting shot between the eyes? Still hurts, but not as bad as anywhere else since your nerves get all spotty. So if you're a sick son of a bitch, go for the gut, but if you're a sap, keep right on aiming for the brain pan. See, we're learning!
Now that I've made a bunch of tiny new friends, we can finally get to our first club activity! Which will be finding my leg. Here's a hint: It's not fucking slimy and green, or at least it won't be as long as you hurry up about it. Remember kids, this is for cultural understanding. Put yourself in my shoe - You're hungry, you're pissed off, you reach down to scratch an itch at your leg and it isn't there. What's the first thing you think? Yeah, shit, wouldn't I have noticed? I guess these things just happen here. Lucky me, eh?
Don't you worry about how it sticks back on. If you really want that much understanding, you can wait until I can wiggle all ten toes again.
Just remember to be careful with it, got that? I'm ticklish.
Poll Vote!
Character: Abel Nightroad
Series: Trinity Blood (manga)
Age: At least 960; appears to be somewhere in his mid-twenties.
Job: Spiritual Director
Canon: On a thirtieth-century Earth ravaged by an apocalyptic war, the Methuselah, centered in Byzantium, are humans transformed into vampires thanks to an unnamed disease. Their craving for human blood puts them constantly at odds with those sworn to protect mankind: the Roman Catholic Church in the Vatican. The church and the Methuselah have long been opponents in a cold war spanning dozens of years.
Meet Father Abel Nightroad, friend to and weapon of the Catholic Church because of the fact that he is a Crusnik--a vampire who feeds on the blood of other vampires. The result of intensive experimentation, the nature of Abel's existence grants him a lifespan far exceeding that of ordinary vampires, regenerative capabilities, superior intelligence, and incredible destructive power. Fortunately enough, Abel knows all about that "great power = great responsibility" crap. Utterly compassionate, well-meaning, and also a complete dork, Abel travels the world at the Vatican's behest, apprehending criminals in the name of the Lord, helping people out as much as he can, macking on pretty girls, making gay jokes at the expense of his robot compadre, and generally not using the intellect with which he was gifted except in the cases of emergencies. Which, unfortunately, tend to happen when you're a hero, or something like it.
Sample Post:
GREETINGS, NATIVES OF CAMP FU F. YOU DIE! I am Father Abel Nightroad of the Vatican's ministry of state, here in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit to place you all under arrest for a number of crimes. The most severe of which being!
...huh, that's it? I thought for sure there had to be more for me to get this kind of mission--oh, wait, the pages are stuck together, let me just...oh. Oh.
...that said! Ahem. You must all be wondering why I'm taking such serious offenses so lightly, right? "Oh, what a hack of an officer," you're thinking. "He doesn't have enough pairs of handcuffs for all of us!" Which...is true, actually: I don't have enough handcuffs for all of you. This being because, for one, there are quite a lot of you! For another, more delightful reason--I'm not actually here to cuff you and put you behind bars. The Vatican has deemed it fit for me to venture across the sea to the east to issue unto you the Word, such that if you seek to be absolved, if you would still know the road to Heaven, I, Abel Nightroad, would be something of a guide for you along the way. Perhaps less guide than signpost, perhaps less signpost than stepping stone, but, well, whatever I may be to you, I would ask you to let me be of use. ♥ The Lord doth know forgiveness better than any man, after all.
Now! I know this is something of a strange way to start off an introduction, but since I technically placed you under arrest, I have to ask--you know, so no one makes a fuss: Do you surrender?
--ah, hold that thought. Message!
AX field operative Abel Nightroad speaking, completing my mission as reques... Heh? Well, I've been here for around an hour already, of course I've met the...people I'm...supposed to be...counseling...
...uh.
...right. Gentlemen. My sincerest apologies for wasting your time, and if you could forget all of that just now that'd be great it'll take me hours to think up stuff that cool again, why do I even bother and if you could point me to where I could locate the campers I'd--ah, thank you, may the grace of God be with you, this is not as awkward as I think it is so let's just pretend it never happened and...!
CAMPERS AND COUNSELORS OF CAMP F. YOU DIE in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit I hereby place you under arrest for committing a number of severe crimes that...span five or six pages, Times New Roman, size twelve, single-spaced...including...attempted murder, successful murder...attempted sexual assault...hey, you didn't succeed in that, at least, NICE WORK ♥--ah, there are rules against that kind of thing...but wait, no rules against murder!?
...you know, I really was wondering why everything was going so smoothly.
Poll Vote!
Character: Luke Skywalker
Series: Star Wars
Age: 23 (immediately post-Return of the Jedi).
Job: Commander of the Anti-Wildlife Rebellion
Canon: A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away,
a farmboy named Luke Skywalker left home to rescue a princess from the
Dark Lord Darth Vader. But things didn’t end there: to save the Galaxy,
Luke would have to fight in the Rebel Alliance against the evil Galactic
Empire and train to become a Jedi Knight, one of the almost-vanished
wielders of a mystical energy field called the “Force.” Of course, his
family was bound to make this epic quest even tougher: the princess was
really his sister, and Vader turned out to be his dad. Only after facing
and reforming his father could Luke become a true Jedi, bring down the
Empire, and restore peace to the galaxy.
Though Luke begins the series naive and impulsive, he becomes calmer,
wiser, and better at coming up with sneaky plans as he and his Jedi
powers mature. But underneath it all, Luke is still (in the words of his
future wife) just a "farmboy": idealistic, devoted to his friends and
the Rebellion’s cause of galactic freedom, and using his skills to help
wherever he can. Note: R2-D2 ("Artoo") is the beeping robot
mechanic and occasional message carrier who accompanies Luke on his
adventures.
Sample Post:
Greetings, Director Sayre. Allow me to introduce myself: I am Luke
Skywalker, Jedi Knight. I’ve come seeking the records of a great Jedi,
Colonel Sanders, who fried the headless rogue Kentucky Chicken clones
many years ago. It’s said that that the Colonel’s work saturated this
area of your planet; I ask your permission to study his legacy from your
encampment. As a sign of good faith, I offer my services for the
duration of my research. Given the situation here, I’m sure I can assist
you and your ailing campers’ "anti-gorilla teams" well.
-- and stop, Artoo. Ah, cut off the recording there and try to transmit
it to wherever she is in this old swamp, then we can start working with
the teams she’s got waiting for us. See if you can help the squads of
campers who fell apart on us before I start a briefing; her recruits
have seen some eye-popping Imperial atrocities, and it seems like they
won’t be able to pull themselves together without help. That sounds
right, Artoo, just put it in the socket and bleep him.
Gray Squadron, you should all be in your positions soon. We’ll be safest
using hand-to-paw combat against the Empire’s gorilla shock troops;
something tells me we’d probably take more damage than it’s worth with
the arsenal you have here. I know you’re used to firing off these
ducklings, but without a trigger their flamethrowing is better suited
for fast food than a fast draw, and there’s a good chance that they’ll
just backfire. Biological warfare doesn’t look promising, either; trying
to use "love goo" will just blow up in our faces. I was good at nailing
womp-rats down Beggar’s Canyon back home, but if they were worked up,
these guys could nail anything with the right equipment.
Questions? Sorry, Gray Leader, I don’t think we can lure the gorillas
into a trap with braaaaaains, and these squadrons might not have
enough to spare. This skirmish will be tough, but I’ve seen you hang in
there by the skin of your teeth, whatever way the skin got stuck there,
and I know we can clear the Empire out of this area for good. Still,
we’ll have to stay sharp. If they ambush you, hold your ground and
try not to lose your heads before we can decrypt their attack
plans and a backup squad. They may have gorilla tactics, but the Force
will be with us. That’s right, the Force -- it surrounds us, penetrates
us, and binds the Galaxy together.
No, Gray Leader, that doesn’t mean we’ll be getting help from the tentacles.
Poll Vote!
DUPS
Applicant #1
Character: Ticky Mikk
Series: D. Gray-man
Age: 26-ish
Job: Keeper of the Dead
Canon: Once upon a time, the Earth was full of the corrupt and unfaithful. In a typical example of a divine blanket solution, God wiped out everyone on the planet with a Great Flood -- save for one Noah and his family. But according to the story of D. Gray-man, Noah was Not Very Happy with this solution. In fact, he was so unhappy that his emotions and beliefs saturated themselves into the genetics of his offspring, only to resurface some thousands of years later -- just in time to create thirteen 'apostles' to assist the Earl of the Millennium in mass genocide.
Ticky is the man who inherited Noah’s ‘pleasure,’ along with a sexy new skin color and a very sharp wardrobe (courtesy of the Earl ♥). It's just too bad that what brings Ticky real pleasure is not looking snazzy, but brutal murder. And boy, does he enjoy it~ Using his ability to touch only what he wants to, Ticky reaches into living bodies and removes things you probably don’t want removed (read: organs). He kills with finesse and takes a certain joy in arranging the corpses to look every bit as stylish as he does. But the murders and the dressing well are how Ticky spends his 'black' life. In his paler, more natural 'white' form, Ticky is an orphan. One who wears suspenders, swindles travelers, and loses to Allen Walker in strip poker -- all while in the happy company of the friends that mean more to him than anything. All in all, Ticky is easygoing, confident, frequently put-upon, and disinterested in any confrontation that doesn’t end with him getting to kill something.
Biz gave permission for the Director reference in the app.
Sample Post:
I wonder whose bright idea it was to make someone like me watch after a camp full of kids?
No, no. Shut up. That was rhetorical, I know what Duke Millennium's humor is like. "But Ticky-pon, heart, think of it as practice for raising our family, heartheart" ... is probably what he would say. One day I want to know why I'm always the one picked for babysitting jobs.
Well then, to the kids in question: it seems I've been hired out as a counselor here. Technically, my position is The Keeper of the Dead, and while that certainly sounds like an interesting title, don't waste your time believing it's impressive. A more accurate description would be zombie herder, slash grave-keeper.
As far as herding goes, I've had some experience in that sort of thing. It hasn't been helpful at all. You can't herd something that keeps running off after food that's too fast for it anyway, and there's nowhere I can leave them to graze. I thought about making a field to their taste, but the mess would be too much trouble to deal with... and training didn't work either, since they kept running out of body parts before learning anything. They couldn't even 'stay' without their legs.
Luckily, I found another way, though it was a lot of trouble to set up. Apparently, even zombies can't stand upright without a spine. Getting rid of that should have been enough, but they kept worming around when I left them like that, so I took out all the other bones too. They don't actually look like zombies anymore, but because they're still alive, I count it as a success. Oh, but they still get away once in a while, so if you see them anywhere just roll them back to the rest; since they're just blobs now they'll go anywhere you want with a good kick. If you kids want one or two to use in a sports game, just let me know. As your counselor I'm here to help, after all.
Now that that's out of the way... I hear the grave keeper part of my job is new to this place too, so I'll explain it.
Your esteemed Miss Director lost her fiancé a while back, but seeing as you're all suspects for that you've probably heard about it? Good. Well, it's been decided that he should finally have a place to rest. It's also something of a tradition to visit the grave, isn't it? So since you guys haven't even been able to find his murderer yet, you should at least drop by and pay your respects.
Preferably in cash. I checked up on him and it seems like the poor fellow died without a cent on him.
Applicant #2
Character: Tiki Mikk
Series: D. Gray-man
Age: Unknown, appears in his mid-late twenties
Job: Inspector of Internal Organs
Canon: Imagine the world of the Victorian Era as you know it, only throw in a fight for the fate of the world between a psychotic-but-cheerful obese Earl's legion of supernatural beasties and a dark religious organization and you have D. Gray-man.
In this world is where we find Tiki Mikk, a super-powerful human whose literal dual nature makes him one fun cookie. Tiki is part of Noah's family, a group of descendents of Noah himself who are to serve as the Earl's sacrificial lambs when he finally manages to get as far as bringing about the apocalypse. Tiki himself represents Noah's Pleasure. When playing the façade of his White side, he's a frumpy bespectacled vagabond, wandering the land, picking up odd jobs and poker games. Once he goes Black he's a suit-wearing top-hatted sex bomb. What he loves, he destroys. He loves humans. Add to this Tiki's command of a legion of flesh eating butterflies called Tease and the ability to let his body move, at will, through anything he wants it to and it's easy to see how Tiki redefines the word badtouch. ♥
Sample Post:
Well, they said there'd be a few bumps on the ride in, but that was quite a surprise. Last I checked trains weren't meant to run over swamps or into lakes. But the tentacles were so pleased at the guest, so what sin is it of mine to slip away and give them a bit of private time.
That is to say...greetings, boys and girls. My name is Tiki Mikk. I've been sent here with the duty of being the official inspector of your internal organs. Though I'm sure by now you're all more interested in the reason for my current state of undress.
Ask and you shall receive.
You see I was sent at first to have a conversation with your good Lady Director. Civil exchange, you know. Kind words and the like. Yet it seems the Lady had an interest in having a hand of poker, and who am I to refuse a lady's request? Well one hand leads to another, and who am I to refuse when the good lady beats me three hands straight and demands payment on bets placed? So, you find me here. Short a few garments and in possession of a fine new position of occupation.
I can't say I'm lacking in the experience necessary for the position. It's really quite simple. I just reach in and think to myself that I'd like to see what's weighing down your heart, feel what's on your mind, or give your stomach a tickle to make sure it's all in good and working order, and so I do. Simple as touching you.
I'd go so far as demonstrating on some of the less-than-living that you seem to have wandering about this camp, but you see, the fine Lady has left me without my gloves. And I'd hate to get my hands dirty. So, what do you say to a game or two? I'd ask the local folk about here, but it seems all that a pair of twos wins from them is a pair of toes, and I'm far more interested in, perhaps, a pair of pants.
Poll Vote!
Remember!
- Applicants, respond anonymously.
- If you're going to do the whole "ask me if I voted you out!" thing, please state who you voted out.
- No speculating about the identity of the applicants!
Now VOTE. Eh, I think we're good here. Closed!
Character: Balthier
Series: Final Fantasy XII
Age: 22
Job: Plunderer of Booty
Canon: Balthier is the leading man of Final Fantasy XII (caution: this is not as true as he may have you believe). As such, he is blessed with dashing good looks, polished social skills, a nice and crisp wardrobe, a beautiful partner and the obligatory Family Emo.
Balthier is free from all chains and obligations of a country, answers only to his Viera partner Fran and his ship. He was born and bred as part of the higher class, but due to circumstances revealed later in the game, he left that lifestyle behind to seek the freedom of the skies and his airship Strahl. He's very polite and very dashing, though he can also be quite plainly an ass, exploiting weaknesses and twisting words. He doesn't miss many details, much to people's chagrin later. He will do almost anything for treasure with worth you can plainly measure.
Sample Post:
A shambling corpse here, a lost soul there, and enough zombies to choke even the holiest of monsters. And I'm not talking about their throats. What a nice welcome, and here I was thinking this lovely camp wasn't hospitable enough. You really know how to make a man feel right at home. Too bad there's not as much loot as one would hope. I don't suppose anyone here would want to buy any blood-stained necklaces or tattered clothing.
Right. I wouldn't want to, either. Nothing glamorous about those. Nothing shiny and we're all about shiny, aren't we?
My name is Balthier, our leading man. I regret to say that I'm looking for something more valuable and this is the route showing on the map that we bought from the moogle. Not that kind of moogle, I've already asked.
By "we", of course, my partner and I. We arrived here on our airship. Perhaps you've seen her? Sleek and fast. Beautiful and a sight for sore eyes. Strong and able to withstand battle. You'd know if you've seen her. The airship's recognizable, too.
As much as I would love to stay and chit-chat all day, I've a schedule to keep to. Tombs to plunder, princesses to kidnap. I've got to keep up the sky pirate life, even if "yarr" and "yo ho ho and a bottle of rum" aren't usually in my vocabulary, thank you for asking. And my friend, it looks as though "bath" and "whole limbs" are not in yours. I could teach you a thing or two.
First thing: Hold out until the last moment. The best option is almost always option number three. Big treasure chests don't always mean that the treasure inside is worth it; some are beasts. Pull out if the going gets tough; it may be a mess at first, but it's a much safer in the long run. Keep a lookout handy! Remember to always protect yourself. Don't make any deals with young people with big blue eyes; it only gives you a headache the morning after.
Second thing: Don't try to gnaw on the arm of the man with the gun. Especially not on his cleaner sleeve.
Poll Vote!
Character: Randy "Ryo" Maclean
Series: FAKE
Age: 28
Job: Trip Leader
Canon: Randy "Ryo" Maclean is a Nice Guy. He gets along with children, donates his hard-earned money to charity, and completes his paperwork in a timely and orderly manner. Girls say he's sweet. Guys say he's swell. And while everyone says that Nice Guys finish last, Ryo's not doing all that bad for himself. He's got his own place, a kid to take care of, and a guy who's head over heels in love with him. Too bad Ryo's about as dense as a brick.
Despite being a fine member of the New York Police Department, Ryo's keen detective skills don't seem to extend outside of the job. He's almost completely oblivious to matters of the heart (and hormones) when relating directly to himself; it's only natural seeing as he's the type to always put others before himself. He's far from being an easy target though. Ryo's still a damn good cop who keeps his thoughts and emotions carefully guarded and has a bite to back up his bark.
Sample Post:
Hello, my name is Randy Maclean and I'll be your new Trip Leader. I've been assigned to organize field trips into the areas around camp in order to help everyone gain a better appreciation for the surrounding scenery and wildlife. Miss Director has said that camp already had a very fine and intimate appreciation of everyone, so it would only be fair to help campers do the same.
I'll admit, I don't have very much experience in this particular job, but the director has been helpful and given me a few self-help books. Though, some of the titles were a bit... misleading. "The Forest Touches Me" didn't turn out to be the sort of book I thought it would.
Hmm, some of these other books look a little more youth-friendly. Those other ones must have been slipped in by accident, though that doesn't explain why she had them in the first place. This is probably a question better left unanswered, actually. Oh, this one gives lists of suggested items to bring, even clothing. Now let's see... Ah, here we go! "It's advisable to bring along a light jacket for changing weather conditions and a hat to keep the sun out of your eyes. To keep your man's eye on you, try opening your shirt a little and rubbing suntan oil o-" ... H-hold on. I think we'll be skipping this section.
Ahaa... continuing on. First aid is also an important part of any outdoor trip. You never know when the unexpected injury will happen and it's best that we're all prepared to deal with whatever arises. A skill I'd like everyone to have some experience in is CPR. To instruct everyone on the proper procedures, I've found a training dummy out in the woods. A strange place to keep one, propped against a tree like that. It may be a little old and green and decaying but it'll do just fine for our presentation.
Lay out the body on a flat surface. Tilt the head back and check for signs of consciousness. Please don't check by shaking, strangling, kicking, or threatening to shoot the body. Or actually shooting the body. Remember, the point is to help people, not give them more problems. Now, if there are no signs of breathing, pinch the nose and cover the mouth with yours. Was this dummy smiling like that before? Then give two, one second breaths. Like thi-
... M-MMPH!!
Poll Vote!
Character: Manji
Series: Blade of the Immortal
Age: 26 (immortal)
Job: Zombie Culture Study and Understanding
Canon: Blade of the Immortal is set in feudal Japan with a sharp modern twist on the language, where the Shinsengumi are the "world's baddest ronin gang" and yotaka are hookers - think Samurai Champloo.
When Manji of the Twelve Swords was about to die a dog's death, an eight-hundred year old nun on a quest to save some bastard souls just happened to be passing by. She decided to give Manji the means to find his path in life, and stuffed his body full of magical parasitic worms - worms that heal any wound and glue any limb, effectively turning him into an immortal samurai-style zombie! It's time to give up the sword, shave his head, and settle into a zen lifestyle as a monk, right?
Yeah, right. Manji is tough, surly, arrogant, and blunt. He has no patience for fancy words or bullshit, and his two talents are killing people and mouthing off. But it's not like he's a bad guy, so he cuts a bet with the nun: if he kills a thousand evil men, he gets back his right to die in peace. Thanks to this vow, but mostly thanks to the fact that he's a protective sucker with a little sister complex, he becomes the bodyguard of a sixteen-year-old girl with a hell of a sob story. Mellowed a touch since gaining his immortality, he now spends his days following her all over the country, keeping her alive on her quest to kill her parents' murderers and occasionally letting her buy extra dessert with a pat on her head. Oh, and he loses his limbs so often in the process of protecting her that he and his allies spend more time complaining about finding them than actually worrying.
Sample Post:
Normally I'd say something here like, "First things first: help me find my fucking leg." But I have some circumstances, and they say I gotta make myself an introduction and talk to you twerps for a spell. So don't start thinking I'm fine and dandy with having three out of four limbs at the moment - in fact, I am in a lot of fucking pain. Which can be your first lesson of the day! Now everyone shut the hell up and put your damn shotguns down long enough to open your friggin' ears.
I see a few of you sharper brats have some gears turning already. I'll give it to you straight: I'm your new counselor, here to shed a little light on the mysteries of not being able to die from a "personal perspective," or some highfalutin horseshit like that. Your leader-woman's a born comedian, kids, because when I told her I was the last immortal son of a bitch out there to teach a pack of brats some tolerance, she said I was perfect. So I hope you don't mind if I'm a little rough around the edges on my teaching style, but what you see is what you get. Well, part of it. The rest of me is somewhere back in the damn woods, heh.
Let me set one thing straight right off the bat - I ain't one of your "zombies." I ain't here to build happy bridges of understanding, and I sure as hell ain't gonna tell you to quit shooting them. Better them than me. Manji-sensei isn't here to be nice; he's here to be informative. For example, getting shot between the eyes? Still hurts, but not as bad as anywhere else since your nerves get all spotty. So if you're a sick son of a bitch, go for the gut, but if you're a sap, keep right on aiming for the brain pan. See, we're learning!
Now that I've made a bunch of tiny new friends, we can finally get to our first club activity! Which will be finding my leg. Here's a hint: It's not fucking slimy and green, or at least it won't be as long as you hurry up about it. Remember kids, this is for cultural understanding. Put yourself in my shoe - You're hungry, you're pissed off, you reach down to scratch an itch at your leg and it isn't there. What's the first thing you think? Yeah, shit, wouldn't I have noticed? I guess these things just happen here. Lucky me, eh?
Don't you worry about how it sticks back on. If you really want that much understanding, you can wait until I can wiggle all ten toes again.
Just remember to be careful with it, got that? I'm ticklish.
Poll Vote!
Character: Abel Nightroad
Series: Trinity Blood (manga)
Age: At least 960; appears to be somewhere in his mid-twenties.
Job: Spiritual Director
Canon: On a thirtieth-century Earth ravaged by an apocalyptic war, the Methuselah, centered in Byzantium, are humans transformed into vampires thanks to an unnamed disease. Their craving for human blood puts them constantly at odds with those sworn to protect mankind: the Roman Catholic Church in the Vatican. The church and the Methuselah have long been opponents in a cold war spanning dozens of years.
Meet Father Abel Nightroad, friend to and weapon of the Catholic Church because of the fact that he is a Crusnik--a vampire who feeds on the blood of other vampires. The result of intensive experimentation, the nature of Abel's existence grants him a lifespan far exceeding that of ordinary vampires, regenerative capabilities, superior intelligence, and incredible destructive power. Fortunately enough, Abel knows all about that "great power = great responsibility" crap. Utterly compassionate, well-meaning, and also a complete dork, Abel travels the world at the Vatican's behest, apprehending criminals in the name of the Lord, helping people out as much as he can, macking on pretty girls, making gay jokes at the expense of his robot compadre, and generally not using the intellect with which he was gifted except in the cases of emergencies. Which, unfortunately, tend to happen when you're a hero, or something like it.
Sample Post:
GREETINGS, NATIVES OF CAMP FU F. YOU DIE! I am Father Abel Nightroad of the Vatican's ministry of state, here in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit to place you all under arrest for a number of crimes. The most severe of which being!
- Attempted murder. (Thankfully largely unsuccessful, though if you're trying to bite into someone's skull with those front teeth--well, it's kind of like trying to stick a spoon in a watermelon, it just doesn't work as well as you want it to.)
- Attempted sexual assault. (the Lord frowns upon the attempted consummation of holy unions that don't actually exist!)
- Illegal drug use and trafficking. (...out here?)
...huh, that's it? I thought for sure there had to be more for me to get this kind of mission--oh, wait, the pages are stuck together, let me just...oh. Oh.
...that said! Ahem. You must all be wondering why I'm taking such serious offenses so lightly, right? "Oh, what a hack of an officer," you're thinking. "He doesn't have enough pairs of handcuffs for all of us!" Which...is true, actually: I don't have enough handcuffs for all of you. This being because, for one, there are quite a lot of you! For another, more delightful reason--I'm not actually here to cuff you and put you behind bars. The Vatican has deemed it fit for me to venture across the sea to the east to issue unto you the Word, such that if you seek to be absolved, if you would still know the road to Heaven, I, Abel Nightroad, would be something of a guide for you along the way. Perhaps less guide than signpost, perhaps less signpost than stepping stone, but, well, whatever I may be to you, I would ask you to let me be of use. ♥ The Lord doth know forgiveness better than any man, after all.
Now! I know this is something of a strange way to start off an introduction, but since I technically placed you under arrest, I have to ask--you know, so no one makes a fuss: Do you surrender?
--ah, hold that thought. Message!
AX field operative Abel Nightroad speaking, completing my mission as reques... Heh? Well, I've been here for around an hour already, of course I've met the...people I'm...supposed to be...counseling...
...uh.
...right. Gentlemen. My sincerest apologies for wasting your time, and if you could forget all of that just now that'd be great it'll take me hours to think up stuff that cool again, why do I even bother and if you could point me to where I could locate the campers I'd--ah, thank you, may the grace of God be with you, this is not as awkward as I think it is so let's just pretend it never happened and...!
CAMPERS AND COUNSELORS OF CAMP F. YOU DIE in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit I hereby place you under arrest for committing a number of severe crimes that...span five or six pages, Times New Roman, size twelve, single-spaced...including...attempted murder, successful murder...attempted sexual assault...hey, you didn't succeed in that, at least, NICE WORK ♥--ah, there are rules against that kind of thing...but wait, no rules against murder!?
...you know, I really was wondering why everything was going so smoothly.
Poll Vote!
Character: Luke Skywalker
Series: Star Wars
Age: 23 (immediately post-Return of the Jedi).
Job: Commander of the Anti-Wildlife Rebellion
Canon: A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away,
a farmboy named Luke Skywalker left home to rescue a princess from the
Dark Lord Darth Vader. But things didn’t end there: to save the Galaxy,
Luke would have to fight in the Rebel Alliance against the evil Galactic
Empire and train to become a Jedi Knight, one of the almost-vanished
wielders of a mystical energy field called the “Force.” Of course, his
family was bound to make this epic quest even tougher: the princess was
really his sister, and Vader turned out to be his dad. Only after facing
and reforming his father could Luke become a true Jedi, bring down the
Empire, and restore peace to the galaxy.
Though Luke begins the series naive and impulsive, he becomes calmer,
wiser, and better at coming up with sneaky plans as he and his Jedi
powers mature. But underneath it all, Luke is still (in the words of his
future wife) just a "farmboy": idealistic, devoted to his friends and
the Rebellion’s cause of galactic freedom, and using his skills to help
wherever he can. Note: R2-D2 ("Artoo") is the beeping robot
mechanic and occasional message carrier who accompanies Luke on his
adventures.
Sample Post:
Greetings, Director Sayre. Allow me to introduce myself: I am Luke
Skywalker, Jedi Knight. I’ve come seeking the records of a great Jedi,
Colonel Sanders, who fried the headless rogue Kentucky Chicken clones
many years ago. It’s said that that the Colonel’s work saturated this
area of your planet; I ask your permission to study his legacy from your
encampment. As a sign of good faith, I offer my services for the
duration of my research. Given the situation here, I’m sure I can assist
you and your ailing campers’ "anti-gorilla teams" well.
-- and stop, Artoo. Ah, cut off the recording there and try to transmit
it to wherever she is in this old swamp, then we can start working with
the teams she’s got waiting for us. See if you can help the squads of
campers who fell apart on us before I start a briefing; her recruits
have seen some eye-popping Imperial atrocities, and it seems like they
won’t be able to pull themselves together without help. That sounds
right, Artoo, just put it in the socket and bleep him.
Gray Squadron, you should all be in your positions soon. We’ll be safest
using hand-to-paw combat against the Empire’s gorilla shock troops;
something tells me we’d probably take more damage than it’s worth with
the arsenal you have here. I know you’re used to firing off these
ducklings, but without a trigger their flamethrowing is better suited
for fast food than a fast draw, and there’s a good chance that they’ll
just backfire. Biological warfare doesn’t look promising, either; trying
to use "love goo" will just blow up in our faces. I was good at nailing
womp-rats down Beggar’s Canyon back home, but if they were worked up,
these guys could nail anything with the right equipment.
Questions? Sorry, Gray Leader, I don’t think we can lure the gorillas
into a trap with braaaaaains, and these squadrons might not have
enough to spare. This skirmish will be tough, but I’ve seen you hang in
there by the skin of your teeth, whatever way the skin got stuck there,
and I know we can clear the Empire out of this area for good. Still,
we’ll have to stay sharp. If they ambush you, hold your ground and
try not to lose your heads before we can decrypt their attack
plans and a backup squad. They may have gorilla tactics, but the Force
will be with us. That’s right, the Force -- it surrounds us, penetrates
us, and binds the Galaxy together.
No, Gray Leader, that doesn’t mean we’ll be getting help from the tentacles.
Poll Vote!
DUPS
Applicant #1
Character: Ticky Mikk
Series: D. Gray-man
Age: 26-ish
Job: Keeper of the Dead
Canon: Once upon a time, the Earth was full of the corrupt and unfaithful. In a typical example of a divine blanket solution, God wiped out everyone on the planet with a Great Flood -- save for one Noah and his family. But according to the story of D. Gray-man, Noah was Not Very Happy with this solution. In fact, he was so unhappy that his emotions and beliefs saturated themselves into the genetics of his offspring, only to resurface some thousands of years later -- just in time to create thirteen 'apostles' to assist the Earl of the Millennium in mass genocide.
Ticky is the man who inherited Noah’s ‘pleasure,’ along with a sexy new skin color and a very sharp wardrobe (courtesy of the Earl ♥). It's just too bad that what brings Ticky real pleasure is not looking snazzy, but brutal murder. And boy, does he enjoy it~ Using his ability to touch only what he wants to, Ticky reaches into living bodies and removes things you probably don’t want removed (read: organs). He kills with finesse and takes a certain joy in arranging the corpses to look every bit as stylish as he does. But the murders and the dressing well are how Ticky spends his 'black' life. In his paler, more natural 'white' form, Ticky is an orphan. One who wears suspenders, swindles travelers, and loses to Allen Walker in strip poker -- all while in the happy company of the friends that mean more to him than anything. All in all, Ticky is easygoing, confident, frequently put-upon, and disinterested in any confrontation that doesn’t end with him getting to kill something.
Biz gave permission for the Director reference in the app.
Sample Post:
I wonder whose bright idea it was to make someone like me watch after a camp full of kids?
No, no. Shut up. That was rhetorical, I know what Duke Millennium's humor is like. "But Ticky-pon, heart, think of it as practice for raising our family, heartheart" ... is probably what he would say. One day I want to know why I'm always the one picked for babysitting jobs.
Well then, to the kids in question: it seems I've been hired out as a counselor here. Technically, my position is The Keeper of the Dead, and while that certainly sounds like an interesting title, don't waste your time believing it's impressive. A more accurate description would be zombie herder, slash grave-keeper.
As far as herding goes, I've had some experience in that sort of thing. It hasn't been helpful at all. You can't herd something that keeps running off after food that's too fast for it anyway, and there's nowhere I can leave them to graze. I thought about making a field to their taste, but the mess would be too much trouble to deal with... and training didn't work either, since they kept running out of body parts before learning anything. They couldn't even 'stay' without their legs.
Luckily, I found another way, though it was a lot of trouble to set up. Apparently, even zombies can't stand upright without a spine. Getting rid of that should have been enough, but they kept worming around when I left them like that, so I took out all the other bones too. They don't actually look like zombies anymore, but because they're still alive, I count it as a success. Oh, but they still get away once in a while, so if you see them anywhere just roll them back to the rest; since they're just blobs now they'll go anywhere you want with a good kick. If you kids want one or two to use in a sports game, just let me know. As your counselor I'm here to help, after all.
Now that that's out of the way... I hear the grave keeper part of my job is new to this place too, so I'll explain it.
Your esteemed Miss Director lost her fiancé a while back, but seeing as you're all suspects for that you've probably heard about it? Good. Well, it's been decided that he should finally have a place to rest. It's also something of a tradition to visit the grave, isn't it? So since you guys haven't even been able to find his murderer yet, you should at least drop by and pay your respects.
Preferably in cash. I checked up on him and it seems like the poor fellow died without a cent on him.
Applicant #2
Character: Tiki Mikk
Series: D. Gray-man
Age: Unknown, appears in his mid-late twenties
Job: Inspector of Internal Organs
Canon: Imagine the world of the Victorian Era as you know it, only throw in a fight for the fate of the world between a psychotic-but-cheerful obese Earl's legion of supernatural beasties and a dark religious organization and you have D. Gray-man.
In this world is where we find Tiki Mikk, a super-powerful human whose literal dual nature makes him one fun cookie. Tiki is part of Noah's family, a group of descendents of Noah himself who are to serve as the Earl's sacrificial lambs when he finally manages to get as far as bringing about the apocalypse. Tiki himself represents Noah's Pleasure. When playing the façade of his White side, he's a frumpy bespectacled vagabond, wandering the land, picking up odd jobs and poker games. Once he goes Black he's a suit-wearing top-hatted sex bomb. What he loves, he destroys. He loves humans. Add to this Tiki's command of a legion of flesh eating butterflies called Tease and the ability to let his body move, at will, through anything he wants it to and it's easy to see how Tiki redefines the word badtouch. ♥
Sample Post:
Well, they said there'd be a few bumps on the ride in, but that was quite a surprise. Last I checked trains weren't meant to run over swamps or into lakes. But the tentacles were so pleased at the guest, so what sin is it of mine to slip away and give them a bit of private time.
That is to say...greetings, boys and girls. My name is Tiki Mikk. I've been sent here with the duty of being the official inspector of your internal organs. Though I'm sure by now you're all more interested in the reason for my current state of undress.
Ask and you shall receive.
You see I was sent at first to have a conversation with your good Lady Director. Civil exchange, you know. Kind words and the like. Yet it seems the Lady had an interest in having a hand of poker, and who am I to refuse a lady's request? Well one hand leads to another, and who am I to refuse when the good lady beats me three hands straight and demands payment on bets placed? So, you find me here. Short a few garments and in possession of a fine new position of occupation.
I can't say I'm lacking in the experience necessary for the position. It's really quite simple. I just reach in and think to myself that I'd like to see what's weighing down your heart, feel what's on your mind, or give your stomach a tickle to make sure it's all in good and working order, and so I do. Simple as touching you.
I'd go so far as demonstrating on some of the less-than-living that you seem to have wandering about this camp, but you see, the fine Lady has left me without my gloves. And I'd hate to get my hands dirty. So, what do you say to a game or two? I'd ask the local folk about here, but it seems all that a pair of twos wins from them is a pair of toes, and I'm far more interested in, perhaps, a pair of pants.
Poll Vote!