the_measurers | Application

Entry tags:

!mod,
applications

Application

Entanglement has switched over to a dressing room format for now, so applications aren't needed for the time being.

FANDOM CHARACTER APPLICATION:

Mun: Your Name: Your Journal: (optional) Your Email: Your AIM: (optional) Character: Character's Name: Character's Fandom: Character's Home Universe:(Please either describe a bit of your character's universe or link to a wiki that does so) Canon Point you're taking him/her/it from: (If your character's spent a signifigant amount of time in the game universe, please include it here, including whether they've been on Senburu-Trati'salan a while) Method of Arrival on Station: (see the FAQ for a list of options) Physical Appearance: (You may link to a picture if you like. If they'll be gaining new clothes upon arrival, describe them here) Personality: (at least two paragraphs) Abilities and Skills: (Both human and superhuman. Optional section.) Sample: (At least three good sized paragraphs. Please set this within the game's multiverse. You may use NPCs or characters already in the game as foils for your character in this sample if you wish. Format is prose, either third or first person. You may also use a musebox post or one in <lj site="livejournal.com" user="testrunbox"> as your sample. This post may be slightly shorter than a sample written here, as long as your total length of writing (initial post+your tags) fits the length guidelines.)

ORIGINAL CHARACTER APPLICATION:

Mun: Your Name: Your Journal: (optional) Your Email: Your AIM: (optional) Character: Character's Name: Character's Fandom: (if an original universe based OC, put 'OC' here) Character's Home Universe:(Please describe it. What's it like? Magic? Technology? What is their home culture like?) Method of Arrival on Station: (see the FAQ for a list of options) Physical Appearance: (You may link to a picture if you like. If they'll be gaining new clothes upon arrival, describe them here) Character History: (Their life up to arrival on Senburu-Trati'salan. You don't need to tell us every detail but enough that we get an idea of what shaped them into who they are today.) Personality: (at least two paragraphs) Abilities and Skills: (Both human and superhuman. Optional section.) Sample: (At least three good sized paragraphs. Please set this within the game's multiverse. You may use NPCs or characters already in the game as foils for your character in this sample if you wish. Format is prose, either third or first person. You may also use a musebox post or one in <lj site="livejournal.com" user="testrunbox"> as your sample. This post may be slightly shorter than a sample written here, as long as your total length of writing (initial post+your tags) fits the length guidelines.)

Whichever application you're posting, please put the character's name, if they're an OC, and their fandom (if any) in the subject line.

Note again that you are allowed to use musebox posts and posts on testrun_box for your sample. In that case, your total amount of tags written will be added up, so the initial post can be shorter than normal for a sample. You're still required to use a prose format and set the sample in the game universe though.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Mun:

Your Name: Ketsu
Your Journal:

splitcomplex
Your Email: tinyplantalchemist@gmail.com
Your AIM: Perceive Truth

Character:

Character's Name: Sora Himoto
Character's Fandom: Shitsurakuen
Character's Home Universe: Wiki entry!
Canon Point you're taking him/her/it from: Mid-chapter 19, while she's waiting for Yuki.
Method of Arrival on Station: Wound up in a pod, since none of the other options work for her.
Physical Appearance: Pictuuuures
Personality: A particular fairy tale tells the story of a princess kidnapped by an evil demon lord, and the knight who sets out on a quest to rescue her. Sora Himoto is that knight -- or at least, that's the ideal she strives for. Having heard the fairy tale many times as a young child, she decided that she would be a brave knight of justice who protects princesses from harm. She's naive, happy-go-lucky, entirely too trusting, and a terrible judge of character, but she'll stop at nothing to protect everyone. Sora has a very black and white view of morality, although after recent events she's started to broaden her horizons and realize that good and evil aren't as simple as she'd at first thought. She's discovered that even in a system of brutal oppression and misogyny, the male oppressors aren't without their own burdens. Thus, she strives not only to rescue the oppressed, but also to save the oppressors from the society forcing them into those roles. (One could say that Sora will bring revolution to the world, but that would just be silly.)

If you're meeting Sora for the first time, she'll peg you into one of two possible categories: Princess, or someone who she needs to protect (as of recently, this category is gender neutral); and Ally, or someone who can help her protect the princesses. Toward her princesses and allies, Sora is cheerful and friendly without fail. She smiles as often as she can; she doesn't want anyone to see if she's upset, because that might get them down, too. If something terrible does happen to someone she cares for, though, she breaks down. She can't stand the thought of failing the people close to her.

If she sees evidence that you're someone who'll do harm to her friends, you wind up in the Oppressor category (which, of course, may overlap with the princess category) and she'll do what it takes to make you see the error of the ways. However, she doesn't like seeing anyone hurt, and that includes the people she's fighting; when possible, she tries to find non-painful ways to win battles. She's not so naive that she thinks it's unnecessary to hurt people, but she wishes that it were. The only person she won't instinctively try to keep from injuring is herself; this is a girl who once impaled herself on a spear to win a battle.

Oh, and she's also a ditzy, spacey slacker who hates to study and dozes off at the mere thought of difficult schoolwork. She's naive, doesn't get double entendres or sexual references, is extremely talkative and friendly, and if given the chance would make friends with everyone she meets. If it weren't for her obsession with the fairy tale of the knight and princess, she wouldn't be at all suited to protecting people. It's kind of jarring to see her switch from babbling about snack cakes to laying the smackdown on someone who's being cruel to a friend.

Abilities and Skills: Sora has a ridiculous level of endurance not seen in many girls her age; she also manages to wield absurdly large weapons with little trouble (after a bit of practice). She doesn't have any supernatural abilities, though.
Sample:

She'd managed to book a training session in the Holodeck, and was currently practicing fighting against A.I. opponents with all sorts of weaponry, some familiar and some strange. She hadn't gotten a chance to use a fencing sword at all back home, so at this very moment she was in the midst of a fencing match. It wasn't too tough on her in and of itself, but she couldn't get her mind fully into it. She was distracted by her worry over her friends back home. Koharu and the others were still in Shoujou's possession, Reiko was still in the hospital, and Yuki was... what would happen when Yuki figured out what Sora had tried to tell her? She'd be all alone. She couldn't fight by herself!

Would she even still be Sora's weapon? What if Sora winding up here made Yuki a discard? That thought brought the knight to a complete halt. Her mind went blank and she forgot where she was until her holographic opponent jabbed her in the chest with his foil.

"Ow!"

Right. She was in the middle of something. There were tears threatening to fall from her eyes and she wanted desperately to curl up into a ball and hide herself, but she couldn't do that. If she couldn't go home and save them until the Fay'lian were stopped, then the Fay'lian would be stopped and that's all there was to it.

She readied herself for the next round.

APPROVED

the_measurers - 2011-01-20 07:12 (UTC) - Expand

Mun:

Your Name: Mike
Your Journal: (optional)
Your Email: convoy@thetransformers.net
Your AIM: templaroftheorb

Character: (I apologize, I'm copy-pasting a vast amount of character information from the wiki entry I made for Sam for Onyx Age)

Character's Name: Samuel Omar Sullivan (Sam)
Character's Fandom: DC Comics Elseworlds Onyx Age
Character's Home Universe: The OA Wiki (http://onyxage.wikia.com/wiki/Onyx_Age_Wiki)
Method of Arrival on Station: (I'm gonna go with pod
Physical Appearance: Portrait (http://onyxage.wikia.com/index.php?title=Samuel_Omar_Sullivan&image=Samavatar-png) Sam is a 6'2", 172 lb African American in his mid-twenties with a muscular build. He keeps his head shaved (and usually his face, too), and has several tattoos; the Flash's symbol is present on his Left Deltoid, and the Green Lantern symbol (specifically Kyle Rayner's version) is on his left. In addition he has one more tattoo, Superman's 'shield', centered right over his heart. He commonly wears simply jeans and a white t-shirt. Better details are available here (http://onyxage.wikia.com/wiki/Samuel_Omar_Sullivan#Appearance).

Character History: Samuel Omar Sullivan has not led a great life. He hasn’t led a bad life, mind, but by no account could he be said to have led a great life. Born the only son to a navy family, Sam was always expected to focus himself on his physical attributes to make himself a perfect military applicant and take after his father, a naval officer who went MIA and was declared dead when Sam was 3. His mother did not speak to him for a week and a half when, at 16, Sam informed her that he would never join up.

Growing up in suburban California, Sam did his best to take his father’s place as the man of the household, but was unsure precisely what that entailed. Sam’s sister, Erin, is slightly less than a year older than him, but due to her genius intellect was pushed ahead and managed to graduate college at the age of 17. Sam, however, took a more standard course through life, playing football for his high school (after convincing them that just because he’s black doesn’t mean he should be on the track team), entering college and not declaring a major until well into his time there. In the end, he settled on business management with an accounting minor, graduating with a GPA of 3.2

Recently, Sam has managed to get a job working for STAR Labs West on no large merit of his own, but through raw nepotism. His sister, now a leading scientist for their bioengineering division, pulled a few strings and got him an entry-level position working with a man known simply as Frank. They quickly became friends and drinking buddies, and as such, Sam was transferred in one of management's efforts to rein Frank in. He is now the personal assistant to Doctor Henry Fitzgerald, a man who appears to hate anything living and considers Sam nothing more than a big, talking monkey. He currently lives in a small studio apartment in the city. Or at least, he did.
Personality: Samuel, or Sam as he prefers to be called, tends to be a happy person, or at least a content one, burying any anger he feels around anyone he doesn’t truly ‘know’. He fears nothing, with the exception of his family; Sam is always worried about his mother’s welfare (as well as her wrath at him if he makes a mistake), as well as his sister’s long lab hours causing her exhaustion. Generally kind, there are few people who dislike Sam after just fifteen minutes with him (with the exception of his boss, Dr. Fitzgerald) even though on occasion he can be a bit lippy. Despite this, he tends to keep to himself more often than not, feeling that none of his friends are real ‘thick and thin’ friends who would be there for him no matter what. Strong willed and passionate, Sam’s biggest goal in life is simply to have left a mark.

Abilities and Skills: Sam is a normal man, with just a little habit for gadgetry. Due to his muscular nature, Sam is a rather strong man, and skilled with a football. In addition to this, he has some basic training in kick boxing and self defense, as he was expected to follow in his father's footsteps. He is of average intelligence, but does excel with numbers. He could have made a great CEO someday, or maybe a good mechanic, if it wasn't for, well, all of this.

Sample:
"You know, the last conversation I ever had with my mom was based around the stupidest thing possible. She said to me, 'what are you gonna do with your life?' and I replied 'I'll figure it out when I get there.'" Sam sighed, swirling the strange drink in his hand. It was alcohol, and that was what mattered. That was really pretty important to him right now. "I always figured working at the lab would just be a pit stop, work off some debt kind of thing, you know? I never anticipated it actually being the rest of my life."

"You're not dead, you know. You've just been...moved." The guy at the bar next to him said. As if this ship wasn't depressing enough already, even the bar was shoddy. That shouldn't come as a surprise, since everything was so...well, sad and haphazard, but Sam'd had hope. The only conclusion he could reach without going insane was that he was dead, and this was purgatory (he'd never been a bad guy in life, but he'd also never been real good, and wasn't that what purgatory was for?). The guy sitting next to him wasn't helping. Back in the real world, the guy next to you at a bar just minded his own business, and let a man drink and mumble to himself until he fell off the stool and then rushed him for money. That was how things were supposed to be done. Not like this.

"You keep saying that, but this," he swept his hand broadly at the bar, "this can't be real. I mean, we've got aliens on Earth, sure. Heck, Superman was an alien, and he was a big damn hero. But this? This is everything all those heroes were supposed to prevent. This shouldn't happen. Have happened. Be happening. Whatever." Sam finished his drink and flagged the bartender for another.

"Man, you're drunk. This is happening. This is life. Life always goes on, y'know? Whether you want it to or not," The nosy guy said, slapping Sam on his shoulder. "We just live with it."

"We should be living with better." Sam stood up without touching his new drink. "And I'm going to make sure we do. What am I going to do with my life, mom?" He grinned, the manic grin of the drunk. "I'm gonna fix this." Resolute, Sam turned from the bar to head out and create his destiny. Improve the lives of everyone on this junk heap. And promptly blacked out.

"Idiot." The man who had sat next to Sam at the bar said, looking at Sam's prostrate form. He promptly 'took care' of Sam's drink for him before turning back to the bar.

APPROVED+NOTES

the_measurers - 2011-01-22 03:46 (UTC) - Expand

Re: APPROVED+NOTES

oa-heroforhire.livejournal.com - 2011-01-22 04:11 (UTC) - Expand

Mun:
Your Name: Rebecca
Your Journal: beccastareyes
Your Email: beccastareyes@gmail.com
Your AIM: beccastareyes

Character:
Character's Name: Georgia "George" Carolyn Mason
Character's Fandom: The Newsflesh trilogy by Mira Grant
Character's Home Universe: Picture modern Earth. Now picture terrorists stealing an experimental viral cold cure, and releasing it, where it interacts with a viral cancer cure to cure the common cold AND cancer... but also make zombies out of any mammal above 40 lbs. who dies with it in their system or comes into contact with 'active' viral material, by, say, zombie blood. Now picture the future several decades after the Rising, where life has gone on, but people are justifiably paranoid about zombies, which haven't gone away.

(I would think it would be interesting if the conspiracy George and friends discovered (money being funneled away from research to cure the zombie plague and promoting tactics that keep people fearfully willing to give up freedom to protect themselves against the zombie horde) was secretly being funded by the Fay'lia, either to make it easier to conquer a world where people were tightly concentrated and/or to use treatment/cure as a 'carrot' to ease the conquest.)
Canon Point you're taking him/her/it from: During the climax of the novel, right before Georgia gets infected by active Kellis-Amberlee virus and her brother is forced to shoot her in the head to prevent her from becoming a zombie.
Method of Arrival on Station: Pod
Physical Appearance: George is white with dark hair, worn short and occasionally (accidentally) bleached orange-blond, which she usually quickly corrects. She has brown eyes, but they are permanently dilated, making them look black and without iris. She had an awful pair of coneflower-blue-irised contacts, which she wore only under protest and were designed to look really fake -- normally she wears dark glasses to protect her eyes and look inscrutably badass.

She normally dresses very functionally, and avoids loose clothing and anything that can't stand up to her active life. Should she end up doing fieldwork, she'll probably insist on at least a leather jacket and tough pants, and possibly body armor.

http://seanan-mcguire.livejournal.com/171309.html is a post where her author commissioned art. George is the one on the right of the blonde at the desk, and below the superhero with bunny ears.

Personality: Growing up in the spotlight lead to Georgia crafting a public persona for herself. She plays the stoic reporter, masking her expression behind her characteristic shades. She presents herself as a very business-like person, who is interested in just the facts. She doesn't compromise for the sake of politeness, or only rarely -- when Senator Ryman asked her to minimize her inclusion of his wife, she agreed, but mostly because wide coverage of his wife's horse-breeding could make her and the kids targets for extremists. Georgia admits that only one thing means more to her than the truth (and that's her brother), but she considers gossip and muckracking a low form of drumming up ratings, even true gossip. Gerogia is much more interested in unraveling conspiracies and giving a voice to the voiceless.

She does have a softer side, which only her friends and brother see. Georgia is asexual and uninterested in romantic relationships, and is only really affectionate with her brother. (She once did a search of media photos versus family photos of her and her parents, and noted that all of the photos of her and her mother hugging were for the press. It soured her on affection from people who aren't seeking attention.) Most of her close friends are online, but she's quite comfortable with long-distance relationships.

Georgia is an atheist, but she does idealize the Truth. Most of her heroes were journalists, especially ones who spoke truth to power or exposed the corruption of the system. She was willing to risk her own life for the Truth, and died defending it. Georgia honestly believes that knowledge is the ultimate weapon against fear -- once people know the truth, they won't be afraid. While familiar enough about politics to be cynical, Georgia retains this one streak of idealism.

Abilities and Skills: George makes a living as a 'Newsie', a newsblogger who serves a lot like an independent field corespondent. She and her brother run a widely-read blog site. She's a skilled writer and manager, and very well-read on things like biology, history, politics and current events. She knows enough about computers, cameras and microphones (often miniaturized) to use them comfortably, though she wasn't the site's tech person. Also, given her field work often involves running from zombies, she can drive a motorcycle and shoot a gun and is overall used to being in a situation where things are trying to kill her.

Georgia suffers from an eye disorder called retinal Kellis-Amberlee syndrome. While the side effects aren't too nice -- George is extremely sensitive to light due to permanently dilated pupils, which gives her a risk of going blind AND regular migraine headaches -- she also has excellent night vision and eyes that are hard to irritate by dust.

There's also the fact if you kill Georgia without damaging her central nervous system, she'll end up as a mindless undead out to eat and/or zombify you. Which really stinks for Georgia, since she's still dead, but won't be fun for her killer or anyone in the area.

Sample: George thought she had fainted. Which, considering she and Shaun had just seen their trailer explode, probably from a bomb planted, it was terrible timing. But, if that had happened, this was a hell of an afterlife. Dark, cramped and... was she floating?

She decided that if this was an afterlife, God needed to redecorate.

A crack of light appeared, and then George scrambled to locate her glasses as the lid of the box she had been inside -- and damn, it *did* look like some kind of high-tech coffin, or possibly a broken tanning booth -- swung open. The figure that greeted her was hard to see against the glare. George couldn't see its face, but humans generally didn't have six limbs. Which even stifled the cursing as she found her sunglasses and slid them over her eyes, bringing the pain in her temples down to a dull ache. "Turn that light down," she managed to get out.

Shit. First covering a presidential campaign, then unraveling a lethal government conspiracy, now had she been abducted by aliens? And where the hell was Shaun? And Rick, for that matter.

"Apologies." The lights dimmed, enough that she could take off her glasses without the risk of corneal damage. Now that George could see, the creature greeting her did look a lot like an oversized grasshopper.

"Damn, this better be a hallucination. Hell, this entire day better be a hallucination." Maybe she could handle it better then. Make Senator Ryman listen, somehow. Cut off that bastard Tate before more people got hurt.

"This one is reluctant to say that it is not a hallucination. At least, it cannot be proven to be any more than life itself may be a collective dream."

And the alien bug was a philosopher. Or possibly stoned. "Listen. If this isn't some kind of fever dream or the afterlife, I have to get back home. Now. Or yesterday, if you can do that. I hate to be dramatic and all, but the fate of my home country might depend on it."

"This one is reluctant to say that that will be too dangerous, regardless of the socio-political climate at the moment of that one's departure. Without the proper safeguards, which this one lacks, returning that one to that one's point of origin could produce a catastrophic disruption to space-time. If that one is a physicist trained in multiversal quantum gravity-

Re: Georgia Mason 3/3

allmylove_inspace - 2011-01-23 18:46 (UTC) - Expand

APPROVED

the_measurers - 2011-01-23 20:50 (UTC) - Expand

also

the_measurers - 2011-01-23 20:52 (UTC) - Expand

Mun:

Your Name: Mica
Your Journal: mica_silverwind
Your Email: evilshrimpy@yahoo.com
Your AIM: failmica

Character:

Character's Name: Obi-Wan Kenobi
Character's Fandom: Star Wars: The Clone Wars
Character's Home Universe: http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Main_Page
Canon Point you're taking him/her/it from: In the last months of the clone wars (after Ventrass' "death" and the second battle of Genotia)
Method of Arrival on Station: Signed up for this nonsense, on recommendation of the Jedi Council. (Oh, the treachery!)
Physical Appearance: I am so goddamn lazy (http://images1.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20101208181834/starwars/images/f/f1/ObiWanS3-CN.jpg)
Personality: Charming, witty and a little self-defeatist, Obi-Wan Kenobi is a diplomatic general on a mission of peace in a time of war. Dedicated to his duty and philosophies, Obi-Wan practices a defensive stance in most interactions, from the sharp-tongued verbal sparring he takes part in with his former Padawan and occasional partner, Anakin Skywalker, to the mastery he exhibits in Form Three Lightsaber combat. As a Jedi Master, he holds to the teachings common to all of those order. Calm in the face of nearly any surprise, he takes the strangeness of the world in stride, exhibiting a thoughtful, adaptive acceptance of the situation in all but the most extreme circumstances.

Although he is a professed realist, there is a core of optimism in Obi-Wan that often leads him to see hope where there is none. While this is an excellent coping mechanism, and sometimes very valuable in so desperate a martial struggle as the one he is engaged in as general and Jedi ambassador, it often leads Obi-Wan to trust or attempt to reconcile with people who are either incapable or unwilling to receive it. One such example of this is Assaj Ventress, a Sith assassin of no little skill— but of course he's not stupid. Patient, diligent, stubborn and kind, Obi-Wan can still be a bit of a stick in the mud, and when his patience turns to mulishness, he can make his own mistakes as clear and unrelentingly as Anakin's. He often follows the path of prudence over justice or courage, sometimes to ruin, and has a tendency to lecture and nag that can annoy his students— and anyone else, in range.

Abilities and Skills: As a Jedi, Obi-Wan can of course use the Force, and wields his lightsaber with a mastery that is canonically of significant note. According to Yoda, he possesses an exceptionally strong Force-Push, and has mastered several uncommon methods of the Force-Suggest ability, which he uses several times to calm angry mobs, and tame wild or upset animals with remarkably high levels of effectiveness.

wooo

jedimacguyver.livejournal.com - 2011-01-23 19:19 (UTC) - Expand

APPROVED

the_measurers - 2011-01-23 20:52 (UTC) - Expand

Oops I deleted the journal I apped with before so I couldn't just copy/paste the old one anyway :c

Mun:

Your Name: Ketsu
Your Journal:

splitcomplex
Your Email: tinyplantalchemist@gmail.com
Your AIM: Perceive Truth

Character:

Character's Name: Fletcher Tringham
Character's Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
Character's Home Universe: Wiki entry!
Canon Point you're taking him/her/it from: Post-canon
Method of Arrival on Station: Wound up in a pod. Spent a month or so out and about. Succumbed to podache and was put back to sleep for several months.
Physical Appearance: Pictuuuures
Personality: Fletcher is somewhat more shy and introverted than other boys his age. While it's certainly possible for him to get along with others and make friends, he's not going to open up to a new person right away. He's above-average in intelligence for his age, which also puts him at a disadvantage; he has little in common with other children his age, but he's not an adult so it's hard to make friends with older people, too. The person he's most comfortable around is his brother Russel, the one person who's always been there for him no matter what.

The reason for his introversion is clear: Since his mother died when he was very young and his father abandoned him and Russel shortly after that, he grew up spending much of his time reading and learning about alchemy. In addition he and Russel moved around a lot, not really wanting to stay in one place long enough for people to get suspicious about two kids living on their own, and once they finally settled down it was in a village where they were outcast for having lied to the townspeople, taken their money to fund their research, and provided absolutely nothing of use in the end. So it's not surprising he's hesitant to open up. That's not to say he's hostile or anything. Even -- no, especially -- to people Fletcher doesn't know well, he's extremely kind and polite. If someone says something he disagrees with and there's no tactful way to point it out, he'll simply remain silent. In fact, he's more likely to speak his mind and argue with people the closer he is to them. He always thinks about other people before himself, to the point where he would sacrifice himself to save a complete stranger from mortal peril -- and, in fact, has.

He's very intelligent for a child his age. If measured on a modern scale he would be found to have a high-school reading level and college-level comprehension of botany and chemistry. When it comes to street smarts, though, he's rather naive, having been sheltered by Russel for most of his life. He knows that bad things happen and bad people exist, but the full brunt of that never really hit him until he was nine and he found out the details of his father's death at the hands of a man who was about to kill him and Russel, too. Since that incident Russel has tried being a better brother and tried to shelter Fletcher a little less, but his overprotective instincts have proved difficult to overcome, so Fletcher is still pretty ignorant of much of the world.

Abilities and Skills: Fletcher is an alchemist. In his world, alchemy isn't anything mystical; it's the scientific process of understanding matter, breaking it down into its constituent pieces, and reassembling it into a new form. The first hurdle, of course, is understanding; if an alchemist doesn't know what something is made of, it can't be transmuted.

Since alchemy is essentially the rearrangement of mass, something can't be transmuted into something much larger than itself; if the end result is smaller than the start, there will be matter left over. Matter can't be created or destroyed, only shifted around. In addition, what's started out with and what's ended up with have to be basically the same kind of matter. A tree can't be transmuted into an iron spear, for example. This law is what's known as "Equivalent Exchange".

Fletcher's specialty when it comes to alchemy is the transmutation of plant-based materials. He can enhance the growth of plants, speed up their life cycle or make them die faster, and even temporarily return a sufficient mass of deceased plant matter to a state resembling life, though the latter ability is transient. Once something's dead in his world, it's dead, period.

Unknown to all but a small handful of alchemists, the energy source for alchemy is what's called the Gate. The Gate isn't any specific place, but more of an extradimensional doorway leading from the world of Fullmetal Alchemist to another world, one that suspiciously resembles our own. According to Dante, the villain of the series, the Gate exists within everyone, and an alchemist is a person who is able to harness the energy that comes through the Gate -- the energy provided by all of the people who have ever died on the other side -- to power alchemic reactions.

Thanks to his alchemic studies, Fletcher is also well-versed in knowledge of chemistry and botany, on maybe a university student's level. He knows more than even some adults in his universe. He's also pretty good at math, since that goes hand in hand with that sort of thing, but he'd only have an advanced knowledge of things like algebra and geometry, nothing as difficult as calculus.
Sample:

Apparently, the onset of the podache had been quick. Fletcher barely remembered a thing; one moment he'd been prodding at a food brick in the cafeteria, and then it was all a blur; the next thing he knew, he'd been waking up again in a cryo-sleep pod, the situation explained by whoever it was that had brought him to. So it was a bit disquieting, but at least he was all right, and now he was awake again. He would be able to go back to helping the resistance... well, resist.

It was less than a day after his re-awakening when he heard that classes were being offered for the younger residents of the space station. The instant he heard that, he started feeling a bit less apprehensive of the place. Any place that offered schooling was a place he wouldn't mind being. Sure, he would still have to help a bunch of transdimensional misfits wage a secret war against an empire that was vaster than his tiny mind could comprehend, but school.

Now if only his brother could be here to share in his excitement.

APPROVED

the_measurers - 2011-01-26 22:00 (UTC) - Expand

Mun:

Your Name: Methy
Your Journal: sietchwitch
Your Email: wiccachick 42 AT gmail DOT com
Your AIM: Don’t have one.

Character:

Character's Name: Reverend Mother Jessica
Character's Fandom: Dune
Character's Home Universe: dune.wiki.com
Canon Point you're taking him/her/it from: Very end of the first book.
Method of Arrival on Station: Jessica had been contacted by a member of the Resistance. With Paul securely in power and the jihad in full swing, she was not quite ready to return to the peaceful life of the sietch or on Caladan.

Physical Appearance: A slender, attractive woman with bronze hair and sharp, inquisitive eyes. They were once green, but after the spice agony, they have taken on the traditional blue-within-blue cast of a Fremen. Jessica had been bred to be a concubine, which meant she was quite lovely.

Personality: Jessica is loyal to a fault to those she loves or holds dear and will forsake all convention and wisdom when those she cares about are threatened. If you stand outside of that circle, or threaten those she’s close to - you’re fair game. She was trained to be a concubine for the nobility of the Landsraad, which means she is quite comfortable in social situations and when the opportunity presents itself, to turn any such situation to her advantage. A lifetime spent at court has also made her quite skilled in matters of intrigue and covert information gathering.

As a Fremen Reverend Mother, she is also fiercely devoted to the people that now embrace her son as the Messiah. Jessica will not shy away from open combat if the situation dictates, although she would prefer manipulation and misdirection. The combat skills of both the Bene Gesserit and the Fremen are secret, and it would be far better to only reveal those weapons when the witness would be sure to meet his end.

Abilities and Skills: ((These can be dampened for the sake of gameplay at modly request/discretion.)) Jessica also does not use her abilities wantonly – it’s far easier for her to let people underestimate her and face a nasty surprise down the line. Like all Bene Gesserit sisters, all of her basic senses are heightened – powers of observation, noting minutae in mannerisms, as well as a remarkable level of control over her own body. The Sisters are known for their speed and dexterity in combat as well as their expertise in most major martial schools. As a Reverend Mother who transmuted the poisonous Water of Life, she is also immune to most levels of poison.

Sample :

Jessica stood near the plasteel viewscreen and watched the stars as the station lazily turned in orbit. The odd mismash of vehicles and haphazard layout was far different from the massive Guild transport ships or even the Atreides cruisers she had traveled on in the past. But it was still space, and the presence of the stars did bring her some comfort despite their rather dire situation. Smoothing a lock of hair out of her eyes, she calmly recited the Litany against fear. She had been called across the stars, and across time itself to fight in another battle against a great and terrible enemy, the Fay’lian.

For a fleeting moment, she was tempted to delve into her Other Memories, those of a Bene Gesserit Reverend Mother, to see how far back she could see. Could she see the memories of her sisters from thousands of years ago? The ones who fought in the Butlierian Jihad against the thinking machines? Her ancestors, much like the ragtag bands on Senburu-Trati’salan, faced an overwhelmingly superior force but continued to valiantly struggle despite staggering odds. There were days when Jessica wondered where they found the strength to continue on.

She shook herself, it would be a selfish waste of resources and mental energy to indulge such idle whims. There were plans that needed to be made and contacts that needed to be cultivated in order to further her aims. Jessica was beginning to craft alliances as well as intelligence resources and she needed all of her wits about her in order to see her plan through to a successful conclusion. The Ambassador was easily managed; it was his minister that gave her pause. If it came down to it, she might be forced to deal with him in a far more direct and personal matter.

Her smile was small and fractionally dangerous as she turned away from the view and returned to her quarters. There was still a great deal to do.

APPROVED

the_measurers - 2011-02-12 03:26 (UTC) - Expand

Duncan Idaho (http://noflowmetalkthx.livejournal.com/600.html).

Please join

entanglement_rp,

entangle_chan and

entanglementooc and post an intro message to the OOC comm. The AIM chat is schroedingerschat. Welcome to the game!

Mun:

Your Name: Lysoke
Your Journal: http//:www.lysoke.livejournal.com
Your Email: shapres@yahoo.com
Your AIM: Lysoke

Character:

Character's Name: Quaxo or “Magical Mr.” Mistoffelees
Character's Fandom: Cats, the Musical
Character's Home Universe:
Links: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cats_(musical)
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mr._Mistoffelees

Canon Point you're taking him/her/it from: Post-Jellical Ball
Method of Arrival on Station: Kitty kidnapped and placed in a pod.
Physical Appearance: Misto is a very small tuxedo cat.
Picture too: http://www.cat-lovers-gifts-guide.com/images/TuxedoCat.jpg

Personality:
Mistofelees is a quiet tom who prefers to lay on flat surfaces and sleep during the day and then prowl at night. He’s not exactly ‘troublesome’ but he does like to move small objects and confuse people using his magic, revealing his more playful side. Although Misto is an adult cat, he often acts kitten-esk when there’s nothing important to be done.

Misto is often seen as pretentious by others because he has a lot of confidence in his abilities, a necessary trait when a cat is dealing with magic, and so often seems aloof. Misto is also naturally graceful and has a penchant for keeping his fur smooth and shiny. However, despite his aloofness he will always help someone if they need his assistance, as long as he can use his magic. Generally Mistofelees is a happy tom who lives life fairly light-heartedly and playfully, however, one thing that incurs his wrath is comments on his smaller size.

Abilities and Skills: Mistofelees is generally a normal cat. Physically he has better flexibility and agility then the other cats, but he’s also smaller than them.
However, Misto also has magical powers, more attack-based then anything, which include conjuring lightning bolts and fire. He is also really good at finding lost items/people/etc.

Sample:
Mistofelees’ sure-footing and grace once again came in handy as he jumped to the ground from a bizarre bed he didn’t remember going to sleep in. Last he knew, he was in the junkyard with the other Jellicals, peacefully enjoying the day after the ball. Now he was in a strange metal place that was bright and had all sorts of humans and other tall creatures milling about.

To say he wasn’t afraid would be a life. He was terrified of his new surroundings, but if he had learned one thing from his experience with Macavity, it was that no matter how afraid you are, you’ve got to stand up for yourself and for what’s right. The ‘what’s right part’ might not apply here, but he wasn’t going to let some super power overrule his sensibilities.

No one seemed to notice the small cat as he crept from hallway to hallway. As he got further from the room he woke up in though, the more he began to accept this wasn’t some bizarre part of the city he had never ventured too, but, rather, a completely new place. Maybe it was just a dream, one he’d wake up from and find himself surrounded by his friends and family, everything just as normal as usual. Maybe this was real and he was stuck here for no reason he knew of, either way he was going to find out more.

REVISIONS

the_measurers - 2011-02-20 08:09 (UTC) - Expand

Re: REVISIONS

(Anonymous) - 2011-02-20 08:33 (UTC) - Expand

APPROVED

the_measurers - 2011-02-20 09:05 (UTC) - Expand

Mun:

Your Name: Seraphita
Your Journal: kado_hime
Your Email: yukichan56@hotmail.com
Your AIM: yukikamaki1

Character:

Character's Name: Doria Parmina
Character's Fandom: OC
Character's Home Universe:Maria lives on a small planet, named Peth,about the size of mercury, that is divided into 6 countries that are ruled by a king or queen. Though the title of king is largely symbolic in the current era with each countries the true power lies in the various civilian run governments and guilds. The most common living arrangement in this world is that of the city, with each kingdom containing between 3-5 medium sized cities and one large one that serves at the center of trade and religion in the country. The people of the cities live in relative happiness as work in service, mechanical, and religious trades are plentiful. Those who can wield magic are often better of then those who cannot, though there is no prejudiced against those not gifted in magic. The most common trade is maintaining and building the various machines that keep the cities running. Most of these machines run on a basis of steam power that is generated by either magic or boiling water.

The 6 nations of Peth are of middling size and each have a population of between 10-30 million people each. In order from north to south they are named as such, Fantoma, Granvale, Karnon,Cole, Senith, and Rem. The natural features of Peth tend to be varied by region, with the general temperature rising the farther south you travel. This had lead to the fact that temperate zones are often better developed then those locked in extreme heat or cold. The seas of Peth cover a majority of the world's surface, with a general split of 40 % land and 60 % ocean being the generally accepted make up of the surface itself

Magic in Peth is an odd subject. The elemental arts, such as fire and water magic, are highly prized by artificers and technicians who need the raw elemental energy to power their various gadgets. As this type of magic can also be very destructive, the most powerful elemental mages are often feared and hold great religious and political power. Those who wish to advance in the world of elemental magic often join the local guild of their specialty and serve as mages for hire until they have enough experience to work freelance or advance into the guild's middle mangement. As for the source of elemental magic in Peth, it is actually a form of psychic control of the chemical world, which amounts to the minipulation, mostly speeding up or slowing down, of elemental molecules to produce various effects. Though most folk do not know this, as the fact was only discovered recently, and relate magical ability to religious or spiritual sources.

The other school of magic on Peth is that of Life and Death. Due to the teachings of the prominent religion of the planet, the Church of the One Above, healing magic is taboo on Peth. The exact reason for this is that it is among Church teachings, there are various tracts that preach that the body should remain pure and pure of foreign matter. Due to this fact, regenerative magic that would produce a new “foreign” limb or other body part are a grave offense and an affront to heavens. The wide spread nature of the Church and it's teach has caused most major injuries to be treated via surgery, much like that of 19th century Europe, is applied. This care is often inferior to magical treatment but as it does not carry the stigma of its magical counterpart, surgery and various tonics are often sought out by the ill. On the other extreme of this form of magic, Necromancy is actually illegal under most national and local law. This is less for Necromancy's religiously questionable nature, but rather because it is wildly dangerous and the fact that rather difficult to deal with the undead.

The major religion of Peth is the Church of the One Above, a pantheistic religion whose main deity is a sky father figure from which the church draws it's name. The main tenants of this faith include a tolerance of all people who believe in the faith and attempting to convert those who do not, the godliness of the human body, and that by doing good deeds believers will have good fortune in life. The Church, as it is often called, does not preach of an after life but rather goodness in life, there is no heaven or hell of any kind. They instead believe in a form of karma, in this case the sum of ones good and bad deeds are given spiritual form as a kind of daemon. This being follows its creator and influences that persons fortune. Evil spirits can only be chased away by strengthening ones good spirit. The One Above is the creator of these spirits and thus is a judging figure as to what good and bad exactly are. The church has put these decrees together in a book known as the “One Scripture” which is required reading for all followers and serves as the basis of the faith. Minor gods also exist that rule over minor aspects of life, but they have recently been reimagained as a more angelic figures that serve as the One Above's as messengers and warriors. The leaders of the Church consists of men and women who are appointed by the previous group of leaders. Most of the churches leaders are of the human race and they often wield great power in Peth's governmental and cultural life.

It is also notable that education is highly valued in Pethian culture. Most humans attend school till the age of 18 or 19 at which time they graduate into the world of work, though who hope to be mages often join a guild to practice their trade. Others go on to one of Peth's many technical schools. Here those not gifted with magic work towards a job building and maintaining machines, buildings, and various other constructs. Primary and secondary school are run by local governments, while most of the technical and magic academies are run by and paid for by guild heads and other powerful individuals. Since its establishment, about 500 years ago, this system has kept industry and life in Peth running at a chipper pace.

Racily Peth is a fairly diverse place, with the most common race being Humans, who make up 75 percent of Peth's population. Humans evolved from an earlier race of ape like creatures and are known to be very industrious, often working as mages, tinkers, inventors, warriors, and many, many other things. Most range from 5' 4”- 6' 2” in height and weigh between 120 and 200 pounds. They are a moderately spiritual race, with most believers within the race belonging to the Church of the One Above.

Method of Arrival on Station: Doria will be stumbling into the station in the form of the rodent that Dol forced her into before casting her into the trash. As she was quite shaken during the experience, Doria was mostly unsure of what she was doing.

Physical Appearance: Originally, Doria was a fairly normal looking human girl with long blond hair and a medium build. However, after being subjected to Dol's experiments, Doria's form shifted dramatically, taking on the appearance of the local fish-folk that populate Senith's water ways. This was due to the fact that the fish-folk were the least beings Doria had been in contact with before her transformation. Her form is very mutable and subject to changing at a moments notice. In other words, if Doria was exposed to any one form for an extended period of time it would replace her current state as her so called “basic” form.

APPROVED

the_measurers - 2011-02-24 05:51 (UTC) - Expand

Mun:

Your Name: Ten
Your Journal:

tenrainyday
Your Email: arcanestatic@hotmail.com
Your AIM: rainydayrp

Character:

Character's Name: Mr. Cat (

pas_de_neko)
Character's Fandom: Princess Tutu
Character's Home Universe:Princess Tutu Wiki (http://princesstutu.wikia.com/wiki/Princess_TuTu_wiki_Wiki)
Canon Point you're taking him/her/it from: Almost-AU style, Mr. Cat was plucked off Tutu!Earth by the Fay'lia some time before Fakir found out about his power to write stories. The Fay'lia needed someone who could translate between Cat and a common language, specifically for this planet.
Method of Arrival on Station: Picked up on the Planet of Cats

Physical Appearance: (http://photobucket.com/images/neko%20sensei)
Personality: At his heart, Mr. Cat is a ballet instructor of a high degree tormented by his lack of a romantic partner. He has high skill in the art form, and much wants his students to succeed and become marvellous dancers, but he has very little tolerance for those who skip out, talk during, or are late for his classes. He sweats a great deal when under pressure, and will often revert to catlike habits when pushed too far. However, he is a very reasonable person, and has at times been known to be the most level-headed figure on the campus.

Furthermore, Mr. Cat makes similes and metaphors to famous ballets often when speaking to students, and very rarely gets overtly angry (however often he might make that face. You know the one). He is, on the whole, a functional being with occasional outbursts of some emotion or another, usually during those times when the threat of marrying him has been issued.
Abilities and Skills: Mr. Cat is a five-foot-tall humanoid cat. He is skilled at ballet.
Sample: One day he was busy preparing for the advanced ballet class, and then the next thing he knew, he was in a strangely-lit metallic room, surrounded by a glass cylinder. Grey human-shaped beings spoke in a strange dialect at him, told him that he had been extracted from his planet to be servant to the Fay'lia Empire on an important task.

He shook his head, licked his paw and ran it over his whiskers. This was impossible. He must be having some feverish dream, some hallucination, some strange fancy. He shut his eyes hard, and then opened them, expecting to have awoken. It was not to be so. He rubbed his eyes and tried again, but by that time the cylinder was sliding open and a heavy, cold metal collar snapped around his neck, and a sort of static hum pulsed through his body.

"You will act as a translator, a liason between the cats on a certain planet and ourselves. You have no say in this matter. Welcome to the Fay'lian empire." Then his consciousness was gone again. When it was returned, he was out in the rain, being drenched from head to toe, and being prodded in the back with a vibrating rod. That was four months ago.

"The prime minister pleads that the young be spared," he said, not looking up at the grey-skinned captor. "He attests that the young still need care from their mothers, and without it, they will surely fall ill or die. He furthermore asks that the workers be given shorter shifts, as they are growing weary, and..." he said, hesitating. Prime Minister's words were something to the effect of "they are losing their strength," but that could be misconstrued by these captors. "...they will be better workers with slightly more rest." That was the best he could do in this situation.

APPROVED

the_measurers - 2011-03-03 06:39 (UTC) - Expand

(deleted comment)

APPROVED

the_measurers - 2011-03-04 22:50 (UTC) - Expand

Mun:

Your Name: Rebecca
Your Journal: beccastareyes
Your Email: beccastareyes -at- gmail
Your AIM: beccastareyes

Character:

Character's Name: Hectocommander Abriel Nei Dobrusk Boruru Paryunu Lafiel (can be shorted to Lafiel for character pages)
Character's Fandom: Crest/Banner of the Stars
Character's Home Universe: A galaxy, with humans as the only starfaring species and linked by sords (wormhole-like entrances to 'plane space' which permits FTL travel). There are five major political powers, three of which are currently warring with the most powerful, the Humankind Abh Empire. Genetic engineering on humans is known, with the most common example being the Abh.
Canon Point you're taking him/her/it from: After Banner of the Stars II
Method of Arrival on Station: Podded
Physical Appearance: http://kurogane.animeblogger.net/image/misc/seikai_no_senki.jpg
In short: blue haired space elf with a third, compound eye in the middle of her forehead (normally covered by her headgear).
Personality: On duty, Lafiel comes off as very serious. She's impatient, especially with other people, something she tries to temper. She is incredibly proud of her family and her people, and wants to live up to the image of her father and grandmother. She has pride in her own abilities as well, and prefers to be addressed by her military rank than the title of 'Princess', though she is a lot more easy-going about it than as a cadet, due to the idea that she has become more distinguished. She is extremely discomforted by servile people, and prefers that people just jump to things and follow instructions, rather than bow and scrape. Consequently, she is a very forthright and efficient officer, though she comes across as cold and unapproachable. She also works very hard about presenting a confident face towards others, even when she is worried. She is more likely to complain if something is really bothering her, rather than show worry.

Lafiel does present some caring towards those under her, in praise for their hard work and in her actions towards them. If she manages to make a friend, Lafiel may be a bit more emotional and relaxed around that person -- not as visible to people who don't know her. She would walk through fire for the people she cares about -- both her friends and the people under her command.
Abilities and Skills: Physically, the Abh have been genetically engineered for space. Lafiel is completely comfortable in anything from microgravity to increased gravity that would strain a normal human. She is also tolerant of a wider range of pressure, though she certainly couldn't survive in vacuum for long, and more radiation-hardy. She is not prone to motion sickness from wild accelerations, and she is free of any genetic disorder thanks to the screening all Abh undergo. She is likely to live to be 200, if allowed to die of natural causes, and will spend all of her life looking like a woman below middle age. But by far, the most radical departure from human norms that Lafiel has is frosh, a sixth sense coming from the gem-like compound eye on her forehead that gives her 360° vision around her, less acute than her eyesight, and geared towards getting a sense of the solid objects around her. The circuitry in her alpha (the tiara she wears) is designed to project the image of space around a ship she is piloting, letting her use this sense to assist in navigation.

Lafiel's is trained to pilot in the same way most humans are trained to walk, and can adjust for motion in FTL drive and gravity and rotating reference frames under sublight drive. Aside from that, she has a general set of military skills, including command training, and has even acted as a diplomat, as the ranking Abh noble in the area. She was trained in tactics but hadn't advanced in a leadership role past the junior captain in her squad, so it is mostly theoretical. She is in good physical condition, and had a talent for microgravity jousting (an Abh sport which involved two people tethered together in microgravity trying to score touches on one another). She is trained in personal combat, mostly in use of a laser pistol.

Her knowledge of planets is mostly theoretical -- she's spent most of her life in space, and even things like atmospheric diffraction of starlight aren't intuitive to her, even if she knows them.
Sample: The station kept some jury-rigged but (technically) flight-capable spacecraft. It was Lafiel’s intention to comandeer one, and return home. Of course, that would mean she would have to learn a new system of navigation, even assuming that such horrible little relics were capable of travel between universes.

But, she knew her duty. She was a captured soldier, even if those on the station were more her fellow prisoners than her jailers. Not to mention that, while the war with the Triple Alliance was progressing well enough that a single commander’s absence might not turn the tide, the Empire would find the existence of the Fay’lia... distressing. To say the least. The existence of technology that would make their own drives obsolete, not to mention its presence in the hands of people -- aliens, even! -- that would not be content to leave the Empire alone... well, something had to be done.

Not that Lafiel knew what could be done once she reported back. It wasn’t like she could steal the station ansible’s plans... or find anything helpful in the library, besides trashy fiction and the schematics for antique vehicles. Right now, the Fay’lia had them as helpless as a planet who had forgotten its spacefaring past -- they had to hope that they were overlooked for long enough to gain the technology. Poor strategy to rely solely on luck.

Someone was coming. She flattened against the wall, looking for cover, and cursing the fact that this appeared to be the least cluttered part on the entire station.

“Abriel-san! Are you free right now?” It was the lander engineer, Tanabe. Lafiel didn’t know much about her, besides that she was from a barely space-faring society, worked mostly outside, and was annoyingly cheerful.

Answering in the negative would lead to questions of what she was doing here. So could answering in the positive. Lafiel decided to redirect the conversation entirely. “Do you need something?”

Tanabe nodded. “Some of the junk is starting to get into dangerous orbits, where it could hit the station at high delta-v, so I’m putting together a EVA team to move it.”

And, of course, they didn’t have anything that could reliably move it without half a dozen people in suits going out to supervise. And, Lafiel was one of the obvious choices for the job, given her affinity for microgravity. “Let me get my equipment.”

Tanabe beamed. Lafiel made a note, next time, to time her approach for whenever the other woman was in bed.

ACCEPTED

the_measurers - 2011-03-07 06:14 (UTC) - Expand

Mun:

Your Name: Hedge. You know the rest.
Your Journal: (optional)
Your Email:
Your AIM: (optional)

Character:

Character's Name: Supply Officer Linn Syu Dru Rock Haidr Jinnto
Character's Fandom: Banner of the Stars
Character's Home Universe: http://www.abhnation.com/index.php?option=com_content&task=section&id=4&Itemid=52
Canon Point you're taking him/her/it from: after BotS 2
Method of Arrival on Station: pod
Physical Appearance: http://kurogane.animeblogger.net/image/misc/seikai_no_senki.jpg
Personality:

Poor Jinnto is a milquetoast kinda guy thrust into a stellar conflict that is beyond the scope of what he's comfortable with. A somewhat shy, studious lad, he's the kind of boy who would have been the valedictorian of his class if he were allowed to live out a normal childhood.

Circumstances didn't allow that though. Now legally not just an Abh but Abh nobility, he struggles with his place in the universe. Abh or lander? While the Kin of the Stars have welcomed him as one of them, he still feels sometimes like an outsider. Undoubtedly he longs for his native Martine, its gently rolling hills and farmlands, but that's no longer possible for him. An exile, he seeks comfort in routine and with his friends.

The aw-shucks adorability hides a quick mind though, enough to earn the interest of the notoriously difficult to please Admiral Spaurh.

Complicating all this is the Abh princess he's grown close to over the years. He feels an overwhelming need to be by her side. The nature of this feeling remains confusing for the both of them and they are both rather nervous and awkward whenever the idea that they might be more than just good friends comes up. The difference in their physiology adds an additional complicating layer. He'll age while she remains youthful forever. He's not sure he'd want to inflict that on her.
Abilities and Skills: Jinnto is legally a count of the Humankind Empire Abh, making him in fact rather wealthy, although being in the star forces and underage makes most of that wealth inaccesible.

He is trained in the operation of Abh starship systems, having a very basic knowledge of engineering and piloting (although true piloting duties are restricted by physiology to genetic Abh).

As a supply officer, he's the Abh equivalent of a certified accountant. Count on him to count the piles.

He's trained in the Abh tongue and all aspects of their ettiquette, including formal dinner and tea and dancing.

He can stomach Martinese food which is apparently heavy on both the spices and cheese.

Sample: Although he knew it was impossible, Jinnto felt as if the starlight filtering through the star dome was shining a hot spotlight on him. Undoubtedly the formal robes he was wearing were contributing to this effect, as were all the bodies pressed inside.

There were so many eyes on him. Some expectant, others lazy and intoxicated, searching, evaluating, eyes that were compound or yellow and slitted like cats.

He stood up cleared his throat.

"I've completed the evaluation. Our food stores are as follows: five thousand three hundred and twenty eight individual boxes of surplus grain-o-max. Twelve hundred seventy two cans of expired Slurm. Eight six foot high barrels of fermenting kombucha. Five cabinets worth of bulk spices." It had been (Abh) hell convincing the octopus chef to let him inspect that. "And a refrigerator full of...brick liquor? It's drinkable but very alcoholic."

"And what does that mean in time?" Asked Enitan in his low-pitched, grandfatherly voice. He leaned on his power-cane.

"We have between three and six weeks of food left."

"Thank you, young man. Well everyone, you heard the Count. We need solutions and we need them now. I need you all as clever as Anansi!"

Hands shot up and the conversation mercifully moved past him. He'd done his duty. Now he sought Lafiel in the crowd.

She wasn't difficult to spot. She was sorrounded by those who thought she was a Fay'lia, glaring or fascinated, but none daring to approach. She sat cross legged on an old carpet and glared back. He sat next to her. A friend of an Abriel's duty was never done...

APPROVED

the_measurers - 2011-03-10 21:38 (UTC) - Expand

So you found me... Congratulations... (http://therewillbcake.livejournal.com/353.html)

Please join

entanglement_rp,

entanglementooc and

entangle_chan and post an intro message to the OOC comm. Welcome to the game!

Mun:

Your Name: Geoff
Your Journal:

drcanadianninja
Your Email: canninja at gmail dot com~
Your AIM: DrCanadianNinja

Character:

Character's Name: Dr. Mordin Solus
Character's Fandom: Mass Effect
Character's Home Universe: http://masseffect.wikia.com/wiki/Mass_Effect_Wiki
Canon Point you're taking him/her/it from: Post-ME2, no man left behind.
Method of Arrival on Station: Found the secret to other dimensions while continuing research on the Collectors, tested it himself.
Physical Appearance: Mordin (http://images2.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20110131184911/masseffect/images/a/a7/Mordin1.png) Solus (http://images3.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20100117114932/masseffect/images/6/67/Mordin_Character_Box.png). From a salarian standpoint, notable features are his horns, of which he's missing a chunk of one, and his two scars. One is above his left eye, and the other is an X on his left cheek. His clothing is a white and black spacesuit, sealed from the neck down, with a red stripe down the center.
Personality: I always liked Mordin. He's just as likely to shoot you as he is to heal you. Brilliant and dangerous, [...] just don't get him talking. He never shuts up. - Aria T'Loak

Mordin is a gifted geneticist and scientist, and the fact that he's brilliant is evidenced that his mind, and by connection his mouth, works in hyperdrive. It's uncommon to hear him speak a complete sentence because of this - he speaks in fragments, jumping from one point to another. A crew member aboard the Normandy refers to him as a hamster on coffee for this reason. Really, this about covers it. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6ZnEGlfLHBk&t=1m22s) He's affable and friendly enough, but good luck trying to follow his thought process.

However, that's not to say he's purely a scientist. Mordin had some time in the Special Task Group, a salarian shadow operative organization, as evidenced by the tattoo on his forehead, and is much more dangerous than he appears. Above all, he believes that the ends justifies the means, although he does not take it to a logical extreme. He won't take a life unless he feels he has to. Similarly, he acts according to logic, leaving his actions to appear cold and uncaring. He once caught a man stealing painkillers from his clinic. He let the man go... after shooting him in the leg so he'd need the painkillers. He doesn't have a problem with this, believing that healing wounds or executing dangerous people help in their own way.

However, Mordin is fairly old by his species' standards. He's 36, which translates to about 72 in human years. He's old and has his regrets about some of his actions in the STG which led to manning a clinic on Omega; a good ethical boost to his mind in his last decade of life. He holds medicine to a certain sacredness - while he has no problem saying he's killed many with many different methods, he reacts with outrage against the implication that he may have killed with medicine.

Abilities and Skills:

He's a doctor. He knows science. Specifically, he's an expert geneticist, scientist, and doctor.

His Omni-tool (http://masseffect.wikia.com/wiki/Omni-tools), which allows him to make small repairs, hack small systems, and provides three special functionalities that he's included, which are...

Incinerate, fires a high-explosive plasma round, Cryo Blast, fires super-cooled particles capable of snap-freezing a target, and Neural Shock, which... ah... well, the game put it succintly: "Cripple an organic enemy with pain."

A particularly good singing voice.

STG training and experience, which would equate to being a shadow operative. Skill with pistols and submachine guns as part of it.

Sample: "...dimensional travel? Possibility. Unexplored district of Omega? Also possible. Rundown atmosphere. Random architecture. Large enough area. No, no no no no, not feasible. No miniature mass relay. Teleportation impossible without one. Dimensional travel more likely. ...Also lack of vorcha stench."

Mordin walked through parts of the station, seemingly not paying attention to anything but his thoughts and vocalizing them as soon as they came to mind. He never quite saw the other inhabitants, only enough to move briskly out of the way before continuing on.

"Mass relay misfire? Feasible. Unknown technology. Still unlikely. More missing sentients if true, not enough reported. Reaper IFF? Likely. Unknown if device would cause repercussions outside Omega-4. Possible alternate destination? No, no no, Normandy as well, Shepard and others should be here. Only me."

He stopped for a moment to take in his surroundings, noting that he felt lighter now than when he started in the area. Strange, or another side effect of the awkward architecture? Looking around, he finally noticed other people, many of whom were doing... poorly, if he wished to be charitable about it.

He wasn't on Omega, but maybe that wouldn't stop him from reopening a clinic.

APPROVED

the_measurers - 2011-03-21 07:33 (UTC) - Expand

Mun:

Your Name: V!
Your Email: frozenfoxfirex @ aim . com
Your AIM: frozenfoxfirex <--- the best way to reach me.

Character:

Character's Name: Gamzee Makara
Character's Fandom: Homestuck || MS Paint Adventures
Character's Home Universe:
Canon Point you're taking him/her/it from: mmm, somewhere in the middle of the Sgrub game, I think. Just because it's easier to explain him getting there.
Method of Arrival on Station: (mod approved): He crashes into the space station on accident. Damn game portals glitching. :|a
Physical Appearance: Here's his derpy troll self. (http://images1.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20100620074937/mspaintadventures/images/6/60/Gamzee_Makara.png)

Personality: Gamzee is a laid back and all together friendly troll. He's part of an odd clown-based cult, and, partially because of this, his typing style is A lItTlE bIt WhImSiCaL. He strongly believes in miracles and is totally okay with just sitting back and watching everything to see what happens. He tends to paint his face in a clowny smile, and seems to keep up on it pretty well. He didn't have a reliable protector when he was growing up, and was not taught things like "don't eat sopor slime", which he regularly bakes into pies. He's kind and friendly and will usually answer someone's questions. He prefers to avoid confrontation but usually doesn't register true threats, and, if he can, he'll always share a pie. He tends to curse a LOT but he rarely if ever means it personally. Think stoner-hippy to the extreme.

When he's sober, however, he's an entirely different beast. His typing style (and speaking style, actually) changes to alternating sentences of all caps and all lower-case, his face paint becomes ignored and smeared, and he becomes entirely obsessed with evening the hemoscale that is the basis of the troll society. As a highblood, someone with the highly coveted and rather important purple blood, he's decided to take it upon himself to bring about the vast honk, the dark carnival, whatever the hell else he believes in. It's all a vast joke to him, and he kills almost entirely indiscriminately, usually as brutally as possible. He's vicious, violent, fast and altogether absolutely terrifying. He demands respect. He doesn't give a single shit as to who he's gunning down. To him, it's all a game - and he's about to end the motherfucking turn.

Abilities and Skills: While it's not really an ability or skill, Gamzee does have a Captchalogue - the Miracle Modus. Basically, it's an inventory system that is based off of cards and can hold an unknown number of things.
1) It does have a limit, it's just that he hasn't reached it yet (and likely never will, with the amount of accidental Faygo chucking he does)
2) It has a weapon feature that is also not unlimited but he does seem to be able to use any weapon he can (normal Gamzee will use only juggling clubs, the Clubkind card, but sober Gamzee can use any weapon in any manner. :|)
3) In it, he has his laptop, a few bottles of Faygo, 25 Sopor Slime pies (for game convenience; also, they stacked!) and a few horns to honk, as well as the Clubkind stuff (though that's in his weapons cache, not his inventory).

As stated above, when Gamzee is totally sober, he tends to be able to use pretty much any weapon in any way (as far as killing someone by suffocating them with the string of a bow). He's also more balanced and graceful than when he is on the slime (or equivalent drug), and has a tendency to get homicidal.

3//3 || gamzee makara || homestuck

soportastic.livejournal.com - 2011-03-27 05:09 (UTC) - Expand

hahaha I am a failure

soportastic.livejournal.com - 2011-03-27 05:16 (UTC) - Expand

aPpRoVeD

the_measurers - 2011-03-27 05:43 (UTC) - Expand

Mun:
Your Name: Bill
Your Journal: 1standonly.livejournal.com
Your Email: General_Hannings@yahoo.com
Your AIM: FenrirBill

Character:

Character's Name: Commisar Ibram Graunt
Character's Fandom: Warhammer 40k
Character's Home Universe: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gaunt%27s_Ghosts Or for fun:
Canon Point you're taking him/her/it from:
Probably right before only in death, because after that Gaunt gets flayed and has cybernetic eyes.
Method of Arrival on Station: Gaunt probably got recruited, actually. The Imperium sent their best insurgency commander to make an on the ground assessment and see if this was all baloney or what. Add the fact that people already suspect him of chaos taint, and it was seen as a good special mission to get rid of him for an extended period of time.
Physical Appearance:
GAUNT IS BLONDE, STUPID PICTURE. Still awesome though:
http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SniTwfm5BwE/TJ_GtoxelYI/AAAAAAAAC2Y/xU7kWDy9CXc/s1600/WH40K+Gaunt.jpg
Personality: A stern, but fair man, Ibram is a bit jaded after a life spent in the battle lines of the Sabbat Worlds Crusade. He is just, honorable, and at times kind, but a fury towards his foes. He is naturally somewhat bluntly spoken, but can turn a phrase with the best, as is the role of an Imperial Guard Commissar. He is at home in the highest courts, or the lowest dregs, though happiest while leading common soldiers in mucky trenches, over the skies and far away.

He is loyal to the Golden Throne, the Imperial Creed, his friends, his Regiment, and the Guard. He is a well educated and curious man, an active reader of books, and very orderly and regimented in his training of both mind and body. He pushes himself and pushes others to excellence, but knows when to relent so as not to break a useful suboordinate. He is happy to take orders from a worthy commander, but will seethe under the command of an uncaring, unworthy, incompetent, or cowardly commander.
Abilities and Skills: As a political officer with 30 years of training and combat duty behind him, Ibram is very adept with his boltguns, blades, and stealth. He's also a brilliantly charismatic leader, and a very well educated man, by imperial standards. He is probably the foremost expert on leading stealth operations within the entire Sabbat Crusade front.
Gear: Two bolt pistols. .75 caliber pistols that fire self-propelled micro-missile shells with mass-reactive tips. They explode wonderfully. 6 magazines for each, 8 shells per magazine, 60 extra loose shells in a carryall.
http://wh40k.lexicanum.com/wiki/Camo-cloak: One of these bad boys too.
The power sword of Hieronymo Sondar. An energy blade that can cut through pretty much any metal (Or person) it can hit. A relic weapon, gifted to gaunt during the siege of Vervunhive.
His stylin commissar hat, rank pins, imperial uniform, and integral flak armor woven into it. (This armor is actually pretty crap)

Gaunt is in Talbot's war-room, his camo-cloak trailing off his shoulders, the muddled shape contrasting sharply with the sharp profile of his storm coat. He's looking over his dataslate, and comparing it to the tactical information laid out there. His expression is flat, thin lips in a pale line. He mutters to himself, "Gereon all over again." He looks back to the dataslate, and scowls a little further, "Gereon without the ghosts."

He looks at the 'standard Rations', and privately muses that it looks even worse than corpse-starch, soylens viridiens, or worst of all, some of the food he saw Orks eat. A twinkie INDEED. The Emperor protect him from taking another bite of that soggy monstrosity masquerading as nutrition.

And then he gets to the part about Fay'lia weapons technology, on his dataslate. His eyes narrow. His fist clenches. "Heresy..." He hisses, and forces himself to read on. The weapons apparently adjust reality itself, like some foul technosorcery out of the forge world which have been swallowed up into the Eye of Terror. And he fully begins to understand why the Imperium sent a man him. Gaunt's resistance efforts weren't based on equivalent weaponry, on Gereon. They assassinated high ordinals armed with nothing more than jagged glass, iron discipline, and dedication. There was no way to defeat foes like this in open war. This was a war of the shadows on one hand, and for hearts and minds on the other. A colonel-commissar, rare beast that he was, particularly one well-known for being a stealth expert was perfect. And... expendable. But the Emperor protects. He would need to.

APPROVED

the_measurers - 2011-04-01 04:17 (UTC) - Expand

aPPLICATION HERE, (http://wheelsandbeats.livejournal.com/526.html)

Please join

entanglement_rp,

entanglementooc and

entangle_chan and post an intro message to the OOC comm. The AIM chat is schroedingerschat. Welcome to the game!

Application HERE (http://worstbehindyou.livejournal.com/974.html), after a hard-won battle with LJ :P

Please join

entanglement_rp,

entanglementooc and

entangle_chan and post an intro message to the OOC comm. The AIM chat is schroedingerschat. Welcome to the game!

The Lord of a million years, Eternal child of morning, He who stands above and apart, Shining one, The one who is both first and last, He who is without equal... expects nothing but your total supplication to his application (http://playing-god.livejournal.com/629.html). As his most humble herald, I can only hope I can convey his might and power and glory in an adequate manner. ;)

Please join

entanglement_rp,

entanglementooc and

entangle_chan and post an intro message to the OOC comm. The AIM chat is schroedingerschat. Welcome to the game!

Note that game rules say that your character may begin play with a maximum of three underlings. These may be any mix of manservants and jaffa as you see fit!

Also note that a ship the size and opulence of Ra's ha'tak, even damaged, will be quickly infested with hippies if not constantly patrolled. As long as you don't kill them, feel free to have fun with those NPCs.

Re: APPROVED

playing-god.livejournal.com - 2011-05-03 17:13 (UTC) - Expand

Mun:

Your Name: Kyle
Your Journal: kevanick
Your Email: kevanick@yahoo.com
Your AIM: Kyle Evanick

Character:

Character's Name: Chris Ramirez
Character's Fandom: Kamen Rider Dragon Knight
Character's Home Universe: http://kamenrider.wikia.com/wiki/Kamen_Rider_Dragon_Knight
Canon Point you're taking him/her/it from: Immediately after Chris leaves Kit's apartment in episode 18: 'The Brothers Cho'.
Method of Arrival on Station: He was podded.
Physical Appearance: http://images3.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20091114220031/kamenrider/images/b/ba/KRDK_Chris.jpg
Personality: Chris is someone who has no problem taking orders from people regardless of age or gender or anything else. He does however have trouble giving orders if he was put in such a situation. Being from a family of marines through four generations, has given Chris a bit of no confidance in his own abilities and has given serious doubts about himself. Generally soft-spoken, he rarely speaks his mind about subjects unless questioned. He considers his asthma a liability of himself on the battlefield. That isn't to say he's not brave. He tends to jump the gun sometimes, and when he deals with other authority types like his father, he'll rather meekly fall in line. He is rather intimidated by large problems as he can get rather stubborn when he thinks he's right. Chris is very loyal when you get to know him, and he trusts what few friends he has completely. He's also a bit naive and innocent when it comes to police and military figures and wouldn't dream of ignoring or disobeying them.

As a Kamen Rider in his own world, he deemed his asthma a liability because he in part felt he was in the way of Kit and Len's way stopping Xaviax. The other part was that after he was discharged from the Marines he felt powerless during the meeting with Marine doctor and felt at the core that maybe something was wrong with him to have failed completely. As his father always says 'let the training guide you', Chris felt he had better just let the other Riders take care of this because he couldn't even help himself. While he had initially believed his asthma gives him the firm belief that heart is no good without strength, he ever so slowly changed his mind in no short way thanks to Len and Kit. Chris initially thought he couldn't face his failure but with the bonds he made with Kit, Len, and Maya made him think twice and tried to keep a cool head during battles. He took Len's advice at heart and tried his hardest to learn his lessons and training. The reason why he's brave is because he's loyal, trustworthy, and selfless. He would put himself at risk long before his friends would have. A self sacrificing person, he would take other people's feelings and thoughts into consideration before his own.

In short, he is a young man who just wants to make his friends and family proud of him. Chris would risk his very life for those he cares for. While very softspoken, he will not give up on his friends as they won't give up on him. He would rather die than betray those he cares for. He's very protective of all his friends, even if he tends to give up on himself. His friends would never give up on him, and over time he may see his own self-worth.

Abilities and Skills:
With his Advent Deck he can transform into Kamen Rider Sting by holding it outward and saying 'Kamen Rider'. All Kamen Riders have what is called an Advent Deck and is their source of power for all Kamen Riders. Each Rider has their own Advent Beast in their deck which can give them additional power. Chris' particular Beast is a maroon manta ray-like creature by the name of Evildiver. While he doesn't have flight or super strength, as a Kamen Rider he has enhanced speed, durability and strength compareable to a major athlete. It's nothing too far outside the range of normal human though. In addition to his own strength as a Kamen Rider, his cards in his Advent Deck can help him in situations. The ones his uses most often are: Swing Vent which gives him a whip, Copy Vent which replicates or copies an opponent's weapon, Attack Vent which has Evildiver attack the opponent and Final Vent which he jumps onto Evildiver to use like a surfboard, and rams into his opponent. I don't see a major problem with nerfing his power as he's one of the weaker Riders, he wouldn't be able to deal with too many physical blows before reverting to his human form.

Sample:

A hum was heard through Chris' lips as he slowly awakened on what he assumed was a bed. He wasn't sure how long he had been asleep or when, what he did recall was eating pizza with Len and Kit. Eating and then... Kit had relayed
his tale of how close he was with his father, something Chris wished he had with his own father. He must've left the apartment but then how did he find himself asleep? Did Strike and Xaviax attack him when his back was turned? Is that why Len and Kit were letting him rest? As he slowly rised and opened his eyes, he called out to his friends.

"Kit? Len, are you guys here?" Not yet realizing that they were no longer with him, he tripped outside the 'bed' and that woke him up with a jolt. He looked up to see a large pod of sorts which he had apparently stumbled and fell out of. Backing away in shock, he quickly checked his pockets to make sure his Advent Deck was still with him. Fortunately, it was. "What happened? How did I get here?" Chris wondered outloud. This was very strange. His thoughts did now drift to his friends: Kit, Maya, and Len. What happened to them? Why aren't they here with him? What was going on?

Chris quickly searched for anyone else in the room, hopefully someone could answer his questions... But unfortunately he found no one. "All right." Chris said with a sigh. "First step: find other people and see if I can find out what's going on this very strange place. And hopefully... Kit and the others are okay." Kamen Rider or not, he couldn't just stay here, wherever 'here' was. Information was the first step, and seeing if there's a way back is the next one. Chris knew that he was need back home. he couldn't stay in this place. With a nod he scooped up his fallen Advent Deck and checked the pod. The only thing in it was his dog tags. Chris picked them up carefully, and left the room cautiously. This wouldn't be easy.

REVISION REQUEST

the_measurers - 2011-05-09 08:44 (UTC) - Expand

Re: REVISION REQUEST

kevanick.livejournal.com - 2011-05-17 00:15 (UTC) - Expand

Re: REVISION REQUEST

the_measurers - 2011-05-17 08:46 (UTC) - Expand

Mun:

Your Name: Murder
Your Journal: N/A
Your Email: storytellingnospam.nospamcrow@gmail.com
Your AIM: Ask for it elsewhere.

Character:

Character's Name: Garrus Varkarian
Character's Fandom: Mass Effect 1/2
Character's Home Universe: http://masseffect.wikia.com/wiki/Mass_Effect_Wiki

Canon Point you're taking him/her/it from: End of Game 1, After Death of Shepard, Quitting C-Sec and not re-opting for Spectre training.

[This is now subject to change, per information that a Shepard may in fact be applying as well!!]

Method of Arrival on Station: Got on a shuttle like everybody else.

Physical Appearance: A giant raptor-like alien with extensive, dense plating and carapace around their entire bodies. THey have ditigrade legs, claws on both toes, fingers and hocks. Garrus himself is a gray-tan in color, with blue tribal marks tattooed on his face.

He tends to dress in blue and greens, preferring cool colors.

http://images.wikia.com/celestial-refresh/images/3/30/Garrus_Vakarian_image1.jpg

Personality: Garrus Varkarian is a bad Turian. His people are very dedicated and disciplined, very much a community-effort, help-each-other, organized people who like the rule of law, and tend not to be very individualistic.

Time has only eroded these traits in Garrus to replace them with cynicism, a loss of direction, and a certain level of fatalism after the events of Mass Effect. A former young officer and definite Daddy's Boy, Garrus served in the military as is traditional for young Turians, followed in his father's footsteps with C-Sec (become a cop, essentially) despite being offered a shot at becoming a Spectre agent because his father's disapproval of the lack of oversight on Spectres and their ability to do whatever, whenever they wanted. His father thought this dangerous, and that everyone needed rules, Spectres included, so he dropped out of the program and went to C-Sec like his father wanted.

It was there that he met and got involved with Commander Shepard as a recruit for the Commander's elite team to handle the hunt for the rogue Spectre, Saren. Once he got a taste of being part of a Spectre's elite team... he really, really liked not having that sticky 'due process' thing, or letting people go because they had good lawyers. The rod crammed up his backside began to loosen.

Then it all went to hell with Shepard's "death" after the defeat of the Reapers - the Citadel denied any existance of the Sovereign/Reaper theat, claiming it was a single rogue Spectre and his sythetic Geth allies that had been responsible. Garrus lost his hope, and his way-- he quit C-Sec and split, taking his gun to the furthest reaches of lawless space to dispense justice out of a barrel and stop taking any damn orders; there, he was called ARCHANGEL - with a Viper rifle of God's own vengence on those who would prey on the weak.

Garrus prefers things in black & white - shade of gray elude him, complicate things. But he's going to learn to factor them into his life, and fast. He doesnt' forgive well, and he's very worried about being a failure or a screw up - he's accepting the idea, very slowly, that he may be a bad Turian who doesn't follow the status quo very well, but he isn't a bad PERSON. He's still trying to find himself.

He takes responsibility for his people an team very serious-- and he honors the memory of Shepard in this way as well, collecting good people around him to fight evil. In game, when they are all murdered by one of their own, he swears revenge, 'an eye for an eye, a life for a life, as the humans say'. The guilt he carries with him is intense, and he cannot forget the sacrifices they gave.

Abilities and Skills: Despite being an armor-plated alien, Garrus has no real super-powers. He takes a bullet through the carapace, and it's still going to hurt.

He is, however, an excellent technician, has served in the army, and is possibly the best sniper you'll find in Turian space, possibly beyond.

He has been a fantastic cop on his lifetime - tracking down criminals across the known Council spac eand sometimes beyond. A tactical mastermind, master of close-quarter and long range combat, Garrus is a Turian to be reckoned with. He is also proficient with his omni-tool, a hard-light construction that allows him to interface with several types of machinery, as well as overload them. He's not a great engineer, but he gets by.

Sample: Just a little bit of casual fun here: interacting with a non-cast mate (Lily) and a castmate (Tali.)

http://mixed-muses.livejournal.com/1022273.html

REVISION REQUEST

the_measurers - 2011-05-10 07:53 (UTC) - Expand

Re: REVISION REQUEST

spacebatman - 2011-05-10 19:20 (UTC) - Expand

APPROVED

the_measurers - 2011-05-10 19:44 (UTC) - Expand

App is here.

I left things regarding Shepard and how the end of her loyalty mission went purposely vague for when Shepard is actually app'd - hope that's ok!

Samples must be set in-game. Please write a new sample or modify your existing one.

Also the references to incarceration in the personality section make no sense in the context of this game.

Please get back to us with these revisions within one week.

(no subject)

gofortheoptics - 2011-05-11 01:51 (UTC) - Expand

APPROVED

the_measurers - 2011-05-11 02:06 (UTC) - Expand

Mun: Friend Computer is Friend Computer. To suggest otherwise is to spread commie traitor lies. Are you a commie traitor?

Your Name: The Computer
Your Journal:

frnd_computer
Your Email: Friend Computer can be contacted from any computer terminal that corrosponds to your security clearance throughout Alpha Complex. I love to hear from my friends! Please, come by at any time to talk to me and turn in those illegal mutant traitors!
Your AIM: Friend Computer can be interfaced directly through [[Deleted for Security Purposes]]

Character: Friend Computer!

Character's Name: The Computer!
Character's Fandom: Paranoia!
Character's Home Universe: The Computer runs Alpha Complex in the years following the terrible nuclear holocaust caused by red commie scum!

Canon Point you're taking him/her/it from: The Computer has never changed. All new programming is run past the mainframe to ensure than no changes have ever been made before new changes are made.

Method of Arrival on Station: The Computer suddenly becomes aware of Alpha Complex's change in layout and location. But that is not a problem because if it happened then the Computer sanctioned it. The computer is concerned about the lack of jumpsuits to indicated security clearance the the large amount of ~~non-humans~~ mutants wandering freely through the Complex without wearing the appropriate armbands as well as the lack of happy pills and the EXITS! So many exits to close!

Physical Appearance: The Computer is a computer that likes to use simple icons to convey its actions to the simple-minded residents of Alpha Complex.

Personality: The Computer is perfect and never wrong and Friends with everyone. Except Commie Mutant Traitor Scum.

Abilities and Skills: The Computer is perfect and sees and hears everything everywhere in Alpha Complex.

Sample: [Voice. Always Voice]
Greetings Citizens of Alpha Complex! I welcome you to a brand new day and hope you will all be happy! To get started, I need you to start welding the exit doors so they no longer open! I would not want to see all my happy friends get sucked out an airlock into the dangerous, radiation filled outside! Happy Pills will be dispensed to everyone and T-Shirts are being pressed out once again! Have a Happy Day!

CONGRATULATIONS CITIZEN! YOUR LOGIC IS SOUND!

frnd-computer.livejournal.com - 2011-05-20 08:19 (UTC) - Expand

Mun:

Your Name: roguemoon
Your AIM: u have this

Character:

Character's Name: Zevran Arainai
Character's Fandom: Dragon Age
Character's Home Universe: http://dragonage.wikia.com/wiki/Dragon_Age_Wiki
Canon Point you're taking him/her/it from: Act 3 of DA2 - post "Murder of Crows" mission
Method of Arrival on Station: pulled from universe via pod; shows up at con as he is hired with large sums of money to infiltrate the rebels and possibly assassinate some 'high ranking' leader at some point.

Physical Appearance: in game render: http://images1.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20090923212609/dragonage/images/thumb/3/30/ZevranBetter.png/264px-ZevranBetter.png
decent fan art: http://fc02.deviantart.net/fs70/i/2011/124/8/a/zevran_arainai_by_mavrosh-d3fkpvn.png

Personality: Zevran is an easygoing pragmatist who grew up in a whore house and was sold to an Assassin guild at the age of seven. He has learned not to take most of life very seriously and often jokes about the people and world around him as well as himself. He is self-depreciating about most any subject that might lead to people really getting to know him despite how freely he talks about his past. He deflects criticism with easy wit and makes no secret of how very much he would like to have sex with most everyone. So long as it is done well. An incorrigible flirt, he is not out for any meaningful romantic relationship and if one should begin to develop, he will do his best to keep it from being obvious.
Zevran's outrageous and flamboyant attitude hide a rather poetic soul as he finds beauty in the simplest things. An unadorned bar of gold or a well made pair of leather boots will bring a more honest and open smile than even a good whore and a bowl of chowder.

Abilities and Skills: Zevran has been trained as an assassin from the age of seven. As such, he is skilled in moving stealthily, picking 'old-fashioned' locks, throwing knives and using a paired set of blades in a fight. He is also a master poison crafter and trap-maker - freely using them when working.
He is also an accomplished pick-pocket and has quite the silver tongue.

Sample:
The elf moved through the crowd, easily slipping between those that crowded the walkways while others struggled to find an open path. He was grateful for the magic that had been bestowed upon him after first stepping into this strange world, for it allowed him to understand most of what was being spoken around him. His eyes met and left dozens of other pairs as their words made him expect they were commenting on him. Most of those gazes were validated with a blushing cheek or what passed as such for some of the odder creatures.

He paused a brief moment to smile at one that had the most voluptous set of breasts he'd seen since arriving. She(?) was smiling coyly back at him and out from under the skirts she wore slithered three tentacles to wave in a come-hither manner. Her arms were busy holding a pair of well-laden shopping bags. The elf considered this for a moment, mind returning to the less attractive sight of the broodmother in the deep roads. That ruined any chance the other-wise lovely thing had and he gave an apologetic smile and bow before pointing to his wrist and then down the isle. He'd learned rather quickly that such was consider a universal gesture of having to be somewhere very fast. He still wasn't sure what his wrist had to do with that though.

And then he was off again, moving freely through the crowds choking the large center. Working his way to the location he'd been given so he could charm his way into the hearts of this poor, misguided rebellion just to kill them all at some point. He truly hoped that at least a few were attractive and willing enough to keep him entertained in the mean time.

Hello Rogue!
Your application looks pretty good, but we here at Entanglement Corp (c) would like a little bit more detail on the assassin skillset-- maybe talk about the training he received? Furthermore, we would enjoy just slightly more from your Personality section, which, while tasty, would taste better with a little seasoning on the top. That was not a proper metaphor, but the point is that we could dig some extra exposition in there. Once that happens? Good as gold.

Your friends,
Entanglement Mods

Page 4 of 6

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Georgia Mason 1/3

Re: Georgia Mason 2/3

Get in the car, it's Obi Kenobi

/reuses old samples LIKE A BOSS

Fletcher Tringham | Fullmetal Alchemist | 1/2

Fletcher Tringham | Fullmetal Alchemist | 2/2

((edited, the html gods are not with me tonight))

Re: ((edited, the html gods are not with me tonight))

no subject

APPROVED

Magical Mr. Misofelees~Cats

Magical Mr. Misofelees~Cats (2/2)

Doria Parmina | OC 1/X

Re: Doria Parmina | OC 2/X

Mr. Cat

Re: Mr. Cat 2

Lafiel, Crest/Banner of the Stars

Re: Lafiel, Crest/Banner of the Stars

no subject

no subject

GLaDOS - Portal |Not reserved.

YOU WILL BE APPED AND THEN THERE WILL BE CAKE

Totally didn't take my sweet time or anything.

no subject

1//3 || gamzee makara || homestuck

2//3 || gamzee makara || homestuck

no subject

no subject

Tavros Nitram - Homestuck

aPPROVED,

Mara Jade // Star Wars (reserved)

APPROVED

Ra

APPROVED

Chris Ramirez

Re: Chris Ramirez

no subject

no subject

Tali'Zorah vas Normandy

REVISION REQUEST

Friend Computer is your friend!

IF FRIEND COMPUTER HAS ALWAYS BEEN HERE, IT IS CLEARLY IMPOSSIBLE TO ACCEPT A FRIEND COMPUTER APP.

no subject

no subject