rubycitymods: (Default)
Ruby City Mods ([personal profile] rubycitymods) wrote2012-01-13 01:45 pm
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Applications are processed weekly, every weekend. The cut-off time for the submission of applications is 11:59PST on Saturday.
✗ Before applying, please read the FAQ and Rules pages.
✗ Please submit your application with the journal you plan to use if you have one made already. If not, another journal is fine, but we prefer your intended journal so it makes for an easier time in granting access to the mod journal and the contacts page.
✗ For very long applications, we would ask you to please separate them into various comments so that they will not take up too much of the page.
✗ Please title your application as { [CANON/CANON OC/OC]CHARACTER NAME || Series Title || reserve/no reserve || X of X } in the subect header
IMPORTANT: Our application form was edited on September 07, 2015. Please use the revised form.
✗ If you are looking for an example of what an application should be like, please refer to the application here for an example of a canon character application, and here for an original character application.

✗ Canon Application

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A note for CR AU applications
Ruby City does allow previous game history/CR to be brought over on a case by case basis. If you want to include this in your application please add additional sections for PERSONALITY DEVELOPMENT and PREVIOUS GAME HISTORY beneath the Personality and Background/History sections.

In these additional sections we would like to see a brief outline of your character's previous game history and how it potentially impacted on and altered their canon personality.

✧ N A V I G A T I O N ✧
imperialdecrescendo: (Default)

[CANON] The Great Warrior Calgara || One Piece || No Reserve || 1 of ?]

[personal profile] imperialdecrescendo 2012-01-26 06:12 am (UTC)(link)
Name: Charli
Personal Journal: [Bad username or unknown identity: ”youshi_semenjyu”]
AIM/MSN/etc: MamaAustria - AIM

Name: The Great Warrior Calgara
Canon: One Piece
Timeline: After the Knock Up Stream has carried Jaya into the Sky Islands, and the Skypieans are attacking the Shandorians for their land.
If playing another character from the same canon, how will you deal with this?: N/A

Personality: Calgara is a complex man despite his brief time we see him in the series, and a man of deeply passionate and powerful emotion. When we first come across him, he is driving a group of sailors from his island, slaughtering them and destroying their ship in a quite brutal manner. He comes off as nearly insane, demonic in strength, and massively bloodthirsty. It is this reputation among the sailors that has given him the dubious honor of being called the Demon of Shandora, Shandora being a massive city of gold that he is sworn to protect. But as we see him interact with his tribe, we find that he is greatly troubled by a plague that has been ravaging the crops and killing off his people in a slow, steady fashion. He is devoted to his people and his deities, to the point that he will defend even the sacrifice of his own daughter if it will heal the island of what he feels is his god’s rage. We find later that he was deeply troubled by the fact that he had to order his daughter to take her own life, and will later shed great tears over his relief that she will be spared.

However, it is an outsider who is able to appeal to him, the explorer Montblanc Norland, and is able to break him of the fear of gods to see the disease for what it truly is. When he learns that his village can be saved by a simple vaccine, he goes as far as to break the sacred law and kill one of the gods of his people to save Norland, whom he realizes is his only hope. There, on the corpse of a massive snake, we see him weep for the first time, in the hope and relief that there was a way to save his precious village.

The two become unlikely friends, the explorer and the warrior, and learn much from one another. Such is Calgara’s new faith and loyalty in Norland that he shows him just what it is that he is bound to protect aside from his people, and shows him the ancient lost city of Shandora. A great city of gold built by his ancestors centuries before, but it was hardly the gold he was bound to protect. A great stone of history sat in the center, behind the great golden bell known as the ‘Fire of Shandora’, and that was what was far more important than any amount of gold. It was this bell that they rang to summon the spirits of their ancestors back to this island of Jaya, so that they will never be lost in the afterlife. Incidentally, it was also the tolling of this bell that brought Norland to this island in the middle of a great storm. The two exchange information, treasures both golden and not, and even the villagers note that Calgara never made friends save for this one man.
imperialdecrescendo: (Default)

Re: [CANON] The Great Warrior Calgara || One Piece || No Reserve || 2 of ?]

[personal profile] imperialdecrescendo 2012-01-26 06:13 am (UTC)(link)
However, in Norland’s desire to completely cure Calgara’s island of Tree Fever, he chopped down a grove of white trees that turned out to be sacred trees where it was said that the Shandorians’ ancestors dwelled. Unknowing of the reason for Norland’s destruction of the grove, Calgara and his warriors turn against Norland and his crew, and Calgara’s rage cannot be ebbed. It is all he can do to not kill his friend when Norland comes to ask about why this sudden hostility. It was only by the courage of Calgara’s daughter Muse that they were able to understand what had happened, and when Calgara realized his grave mistake, it was too late. Norland was setting sail that morning, and had left behind the gifts of gold in penance for the destruction of the Shandorians’ sacred grove.

Calgara stands in the surf as he watches Norland’s ship sail off, and shouts to him to one day return. He swears that he will remain on this island, and await his return. He will ring the bell daily so that Norland’s ship will never be lost in a storm, and vows that they will meet again. Such was the bond between these two honorable men.

It was not meant to be, however. Jaya is an island in the Grand Line, where the sea is unpredictable, and Jaya had often been plagued by earthquakes. Five years after Norland’s departure, a geological phenomenon known as the Knock Up Stream shattered the island in half, sending the populated half high into the Sky Islands, where it was lodged adjacent to the land known as Skypeia. The golden bell was knocked loose of its foundations and lost to time. To the Skypieans, earth from the sea below was considered sacred, and such am amount was truly a gift from God. A war began between the Shandorians and the Skypeians, and eventually, the Shandorians were driven from their ancestral home. It was during this battle that Calgara lost his life, fighting for not only his village, but to keep his promise to his friend. It would be his greatest regret, that he could never ring the bell again and tell Norland where he was; that they would never meet again. He died wondering what Norland would think when he found them gone, and how there was much he wanted to tell him.

When Norland finally returned to Jaya, it was with his King and many soldiers who had come under the ruse of exploration in order to take the gold. When Norland found the city gone, he was left wondering where the village was, while the King demanded to know where the gold was. In the end, Norland was branded a liar and was executed by the king for treason. Both men died never knowing what became of the other.

Calgara is at once violent and cruel, and also unwaveringly loyal and devoted. A proud man, he never forgets a promise made to a friend, and never forgets great wrongs, including those he committed himself. He is quick to anger and judge, but can be reasonable once his rage has ebbed. Intelligent but primitive, there is much about the more modern and civilized world he does not understand, but he is a curious man, and seeks to understand now that Norland has introduced him to much. He is a wary man who does not quickly or easily make friends, but once you have gained his trust, he will be loyal to the end. He is a man of extremes, which is both an asset and a curse at times.
maple_happiness: (Default)

[FANDOM OC] Wales/Bran Llywelyn || Axis Powers Hetalia || no reserve || 1 of ?

[personal profile] maple_happiness 2012-01-26 07:04 am (UTC)(link)
Apologies in advance for the length of this...

Name: Kate
Personal Journal: fae_boleyn
AIM/MSN/etc: Pan Boleyn on AIM

Character Name: Wales/Bran Llywelyn
Canon: Axis Powers Hetalia
Timeline: Wales has yet to appear in any canon strips or manga; however, he is confirmed to exist by Hetalia's creator, Hidekaz Himaruya, as one of England's older brothers.
If playing another character from the same canon, how will you deal with this?: If Wales and my other Hetalia character, Canada, are in the same scene (this will only happen in a comm-wide event), they do get on pretty well, so I'm not going to have them ignore each other. However, I'll confine it to something like this in the post: “Wales waves at Canada, who waves back, before continuing on to talk to insert-character-here.” Outside of that, I ran into this problem on my last RP comm, but there we all used our character journals as actual journals for them, so I'd have one of the characters write about a conversation between the two of them after the fact. I plan to handle things the same way here, since I intend on making Canada's and Wales' accounts real journals for them. If that's considered a variant of playercest here, I'm perfectly fine with confining interactions to just lines like the waving one above.

Personality: Wales has a rather snarky attitude, and a dry, sometimes black sense of humor. At first glance he seems to be a flippant sort who is always making sarcastic quips about things and doesn't really take much all that seriously, but in large part it's an act. He really is sarcastic, he's not faking it, but he uses it to hide his emotions. He's not comfortable admitting to them, especially ones that, to his mind, leave him vulnerable – in particular he doesn't like admitting when he cares about people, whether that is platonically or romantically. He does have a reckless streak, though, and if he really wants to pursue something he'll disregard what he thinks is his better sense, and the same is true if he really wants to pursue someone. But he rarely feels more than mild interest beyond the platonic, so it's not usually an issue. He has fallen in love before, but only with humans, and he almost never acted on it. Too complicated, since humans are mortal and nations are not.

He has a complicated relationship with his brothers – especially as he's the oldest of them. On the one hand he and Scotland get on, but on the other he thinks his brother is a bit of an idiot for struggling so hard to get away from England. Wales doesn't like being subordinate to his baby brother either, but he's a pragmatist and a survivalist, so he accepts the situation as the only workable one right now. To that end, he tries not to pick fights with England – he won't meekly submit but he does try not to be antagonistic. However, he still harbors a deep, mostly-buried resentment toward his youngest brother for taking him over in the first place. He has a habit of calling his brothers by their older names, so that England is Albion and Scotland is Alba – he will not call Scotland Caledonia because that was his Roman name, nor will he answer to his own Roman name of Cambria. He is Wales or Cymru (only Bran to a select few among the nations); he's never forgiven Rome for conquering them, since all of the tension in the family began with that.
maple_happiness: (Default)

Re: [FANDOM OC] Wales/Bran Llywelyn || Axis Powers Hetalia || no reserve || 2 of ?

[personal profile] maple_happiness 2012-01-26 07:05 am (UTC)(link)
In many ways, if England is a pirate-turned-gentleman, Wales is and will always be the black knight. He has his own personal rules and code that he holds himself to, and he rarely lets himself deviate from that, but otherwise his attitude, to put it succinctly, is that he doesn't care about the rules one way or another; he's not an outright rebel but if he has to go around a rule he won't hesitate. He can be stubborn to a fault when he sets his mind to something. It takes a lot to actually get him angry, but when he does, he doesn't fly into a rage; instead he has a very cold sort of anger, using cruel, cutting remarks instead of yelling. He has a cursing habit, especially when he's in a bad mood – sometimes he forgets that he can't be understood and starts muttering in Welsh. And sometimes he doesn't want to be understood.

He loves music of all kinds; he's not called the “Land of Song” for nothing. He sometimes sings, but usually plays an old flute that he always carries and is learning how to play the viola. He isn't doing all that well because he's trying to teach himself. He also likes storytelling and poetry; it reminds him of bards back in the old days. Rugby and football/soccer are entertaining to watch and he always cheers his players on, but he doesn't play. He's not much of a fan of modern technology – he likes television, mp3 players, and movies, but if he tries to do anything more complex but write a document his computer freezes and he somehow irreversibly locked the Blackberry he tried to learn to use. This is why he still has a basic flip phone – he doesn't even dare to use the camera on it. But he has no problem working an mp3 player and loading songs on it. He doesn't understand this any more than anyone else.

He seems to hold his liquor well, but when he's drunk he will do anything you dare him to and you can ask him any question and get a truthful, complete answer because his filter is completely gone. Unfortunately for him – and anyone who gets secrets out of him this way – he doesn't usually black out so he'll remember what happened even through the bad hangover. This is why he doesn't drink much. He's a bit of a broody sort, and has a lighter with the Welsh dragon engraved on it – he smokes off and on – that he plays with constantly, but especially when he's in a pensive mood.


[personal profile] y_marchog_du - 2012-01-29 03:42 (UTC) - Expand


[personal profile] y_marchog_du - 2012-01-29 21:49 (UTC) - Expand

[FANDOM] Wonderweiss Margera || BLEACH || No Reserve 1/1

[personal profile] aizensrainman 2012-01-28 03:22 am (UTC)(link)
renaissancerevenge: Ezio hanging around on a building. You know, the norm. (Stop monkeying around)

[CANON] Ezio Auditore da Firenze || Assassin's Creed II || No Reserve || 1 of 1

[personal profile] renaissancerevenge 2012-01-30 07:36 am (UTC)(link)
y_marchog_du: (Default)

[Canon] Savannah Levine || Women of the Otherworld || No Reserve || 1 of 2

[personal profile] y_marchog_du 2012-02-05 03:01 am (UTC)(link)
Name: Kate
Personal Journal: fae_boleyn
AIM/MSN/etc: Pan Boleyn

Name: Savannah Levine
Canon: Women of the Otherworld
Timeline: Directly before the opening of Waking the Witch, the novel in which Savannah first takes the stage as an adult character.
If playing another character from the same canon, how will you deal with this?: N/A

Personality: Savannah Levine is a twenty-one-year-old witch. Technically, she is a witch/sorcerer with demonic blood from her mother's side, but witch is a simpler term. Besides, her sorcerer blood doesn't precisely make her a sorcerer in a world where men are sorcerers, women are witches, and there is an actual racial divide between the two types of magic users. Raised by her mother Eve, a dark witch, and then Paige Winterbourne-Cortez and Lucas Cortez (a technically-dark witch and her sorcerer husband) after Eve's death, Savannah has grown up with magic and is extremely knowledgeable about her craft. Her mixed blood gives her powers an extra 'oomph' as well.

Although Savannah has lived with Paige (and then Lucas) since she was thirteen, and they are basically supernatural do-gooders, Savannah has a degree of brutal ruthlessness that they lack. She picked this up from her mother, who was also of the 'do what's necessary' school of thought. Her knowledge and power mean that she's able to back this mindset up; she really is capable of doing what's necessary both mentally and literally.

Savannah is loyal and quick to protect those she cares about. She has a sharp, sarcastic sense of humor, and some level of disdain for normal humans. This, however, is mostly reserved for those humans who think they can do some type of magic – except in very rare cases, only one known one, in fact, human 'magic' doesn't work. It was less specific when she was a teenager, but she's grown out of that. She's also stubborn and extremely confident, to a degree that easily slips into cockiness. This combined with her willingness to take risks gets her in trouble when she thinks she can handle situations and it turns out she can't. However, she is also resourceful, using every possible advantage she can, even if it wouldn't be considered moral – for one thing, she keeps in touch with a handful of her mother's dark side contacts, who, while not to be trusted, can be useful sources of information if you know how to bargain with them. Having learned at Eve's knee, Savannah does.
y_marchog_du: (Default)

Re: [Canon] Savannah Levine || Women of the Otherworld || No Reserve || 2 of 2

[personal profile] y_marchog_du 2012-02-05 03:01 am (UTC)(link)
At the time we meet Savannah, she's twenty-one and working for Paige and Lucas's supernatural PI firm. However, she's not allowed to work cases in the field. More than anything, she is looking for the chance to prove herself to them as a capable field investigator. To her, Ruby City is a way to prove that she's capable – if she can escape, lie detecting spells will prove to Paige and Lucas that she's telling the truth about her strange adventure, and will hopefully aid her case for moving into fieldwork. So, while she might not be happy about being stuck in Ruby City to begin with, it won't take her long to figure out how the situation might be useful to her long-term goals.

Even if it wasn't, she's not about to be cowed by being dumped in Ruby City. It's hardly the worst situation she's been in. As a girl, she and her mother were held captive along with other supernaturals by a group looking to use their powers – during an escape attempt Eve was shot and killed in front of her young daughter. Savannah has also been kidnapped for her magic and possessed by a demon that her mother (as a ghost) had been tasked to hunt who nearly made her kill her guardians. She's been helping out at Paige and Lucas' agency since she was seventeen, and also helping them and their friends/colleagues on the interracial council. This is a group of various types of supernaturals who are tasked with investigating matters relating to their world and keeping said world hidden from the humans. Despite her tendency to cocky recklessness, Savannah grew up quickly and can handle herself quite well.

First Person: [OK, what the fuck is going on? Savannah had been asleep at her art table – she'd needed to work on her art, for stress relief if nothing else – and now she wakes up on a train? Her first thought is that maybe she's dead, died in her sleep or something. But no, ghosts don't breathe, or so she's been told by her favorite necromancer, so she's still alive. And if she were dead, her mom would be here. She's sure of that.]

So what the fuck is happening, then? If this is someone's idea of a joke, it isn't funny.

[When the train pulls into the station, she springs into action, all but running from the train. If nothing else, open space means room to move, to run for a better place to fight if necessary. The town looks deserted, though when she casts a sensing spell she can tell there's people ahead. So she goes off in that direction, mentally readying a knockback spell. No one's getting the jump on her if she can help it. They're just lucky she's not using the fireball.]

Third Person: So apparently she was in some kind of alternate plane. Not dead, but removed from her world just as surely. From what she'd been told, time was different here, so if and when she goes home, no time will have passed. Good; she wouldn't have worried Paige and Lucas. Bad, because how would she convince them that she's escaped from anything?

Well, Paige's truth-detecting spell would tell them.

Because Savannah meant to tell them. She meant to get out and tell them what she'd done. This is something no supernatural from their world has faced before – or if they have, they didn't get back to tell their tale. Surely, if she pulled this off, they'd have to agree she could finally be a full member of the investigation team. She was so tired of desk work, she wanted something real.

This was, maybe, a bit more real than she'd had in mind, but it was what she had. She'd be damned if she let this chance slip through her fingers. And the thought of failure? Didn't even cross her mind.
concubine_made_assassin: (Default)

[Canon] Shao Jun | Assassin's Creed Embers | Not Reserved | 1/1 | (This is Xi's fault 8D)

[personal profile] concubine_made_assassin 2012-02-05 03:02 am (UTC)(link)
Name: Tracy
Personal Journal: [personal profile] yeshallbeasgods
AIM/MSN/etc: trubotracy14

Name: Shao Jun
Canon: Assassin’s Creed
Timeline: Post-Embers, a day after leaving Villa Auditore
If playing another character from the same canon, how will you deal with this?: N/A


First off, Shao Jun is eager to learn. She followed her mentor all the way from China to meet Ezio and, even after her mentor was killed, she continued on. Jun would sneak into Ezio’s study even, in the pursuit of the knowledge she sought. She was usually very sincere though, listening to everything Ezio had to say while still trying to get him to understand her reasoning so that he’d teach her what he knew. Jun can also be quite stubborn, obviously shown but how she kept trying to get Ezio to help her.

She’s loving, or at least very caring. The Chinese Assassin traveled a long way so that she and her mentor could get Ezio’s help to rebuild their Order. And despite Ezio’s firm refusal’s in the beginning, Shao Jun kept at it until, finally, he gave her a chance and started telling her about his beginnings as an assassin and what he learned. And, even after only knowing Ezio a few days, she showed obvious concern for the Master Assassin when one of the Imperial Soldiers slammed him into a tree. Possibly even fearing that he’d been killed.

It’s entirely possible that she’s also a bit paranoid, often staying up through the nights to keep a watch rather than sleeping. While it is good for an assassin to be aware of his or her surroundings, it is not good if they are too weak from a lack of sleep to defend against any threats. And, of course, as an assassin she’s quite stealthy. Perhaps even more so than assassin’s in the Italian Order because her weaponry is all concealed but for her sword, which remains in it’s sheath. Jun is also open to new experiences involving different cultures and beliefs, trying to her best to speak what little Italian she knew out of respect for the Auditore’s and their culture.

By the end of Ember’s, Shao Jun’s resolve had strengthened. She understood that it would take a long time to reunite the Brotherhood in China but with what Ezio taught her, she knew she could do it.

First Person: (Is it okay if I use part of what I wrote for the Test-Drive meme? Otherwise, I’ll write a new sample, no problem.)

[The train ride had been both exciting and nerve wracking for the young assassin. More nerve wracking then anything and the shaking had made her sick. So when the train finally came to a stop, she stumbled out, dropped a small box and made her way to the far corner of the station and emptied the contents of her stomach. She suddenly regretted eating her fill during each mean, when Sophia had asked her to stay in the villa.]

If I never have to ride that thing again, it will be too soon.

[Coughing a bit, the young assassin spit out what remained in her mouth and stood up straight. That moment alone could have gotten her killed. She looked around, picking up the box once more before plucking the watch from the ground. Curious little thing. Made of gold, she guessed. She was a little startled when she pressed a small clip and it popped open, recording her. Jun’s hood hides most of her face from the video. It only records for about a minute before the watch is shut and Jun places the watch in her robes.]

Third Person:


This city had a lot of shadows. Night and day, there were shadows and Shao Jun’s eyes made sure to stare deep enough to know whether there was a threat there or not. At times, she wished that she had Eagle Vision, like Master Ezio. She managed just as well without it though, as she’d proven by surviving all the way to Firenze and against the Imperial Soldiers sent after her mentor and herself. And now she survived in this city. A city with no Templars or Imperials that wanted to hunt down anyone that would oppose Jiajing’s throne.

Her skills could get very rusty quick here though. She’d been warned against entering the forest but what could a little bit of training in there hurt? She was a well-trained assassin. A few beasts couldn’t be too much of a challenge, could they? Perhaps she would ask someone to join her though. They’d made it seem much worse than it seemed but they had been here longer than she had been. Yes, she’d definitely ask someone to accompany her, but only to interfere if she could not handle it. That was the point of training after all.


[personal profile] concubine_made_assassin - 2012-02-05 06:59 (UTC) - Expand
faygospectrum: (Default)

[CANON]GAMZEE MAKARA || Homestuck || reserve || 1 of 1

[personal profile] faygospectrum 2012-02-05 03:05 am (UTC)(link)
Name: J-chan
Personal Journal: One_Great_Dane
AIM/MSN/etc: JChanoftheGods

Application Here!
willnotcomply: (Default)

[CANON] Seven of Nine || Star Trek: Voyager || no reserve || 1

[personal profile] willnotcomply 2012-02-11 02:10 am (UTC)(link)
Name: Yinza
Personal Journal: [personal profile] yinza
AIM/MSN/etc: yinxa [AIM]

Name: Seven of Nine / Annika Hansen
Canon: Star Trek: Voyager
Timeline: after Season 6, Episode 2

Personality: "Superior" would be the best way to describe Seven's personality. She tends to comport herself as though she is above the people around her--both more intelligent and more efficient--and the attitude is not exactly unwarranted. As a former Borg drone, she retains a vast quantity of the information assimilated by the Borg, and probably knows more factual data than any other human being. Furthermore, her eighteen years as part of the Collective allowed her not only to witness Borg superiority over countless other species, but to participate in it. Although she is no longer part of the Collective, that Borg strength is part of her heritage.

Seven is very assertive. Even as a Borg drone, she displayed an unusual tenacity and strong will. She was the only drone to survive when Voyager depressurized the cargo bay where she was working. Afterwards, even when she temporarily lost contact with the Collective, she did not falter in her mission but forced the Voyager crew into completing the weapon against Species 8472. And even having become a part of the crew and having learned to work with them, she continues to disobey direct orders if she disagrees with them. She has a distinct defiant streak, and once when the ship was taken over by aliens, she refused to sing for them at the risk of her life (which Tuvok noted was illogical). She is not an optimist or someone who sees the best in people. Instead, she tends to suspect others of ulterior motives, and is frequently the first to voice doubts about interacting with alien species.

Emotionally she comes across as cold. In many instances she is almost Vulcan-like in her use of logic and her matter-of-fact delivery. Her time with the Borg has made her appreciative of order, precision, and efficiency. She cannot abide being idle. Although she has an analytical mind and is very skilled at applying her knowledge, she is not very creative or spontaneous. She dislikes small talk, has difficulty seeing the point of artistic endeavors, and prefers the direct approach. She will not hesitate to speak her mind, even if what she intends as constructive criticism or even just a statement of fact is often taken as an insult. She does have a sense of humor, though it is very dry and not always recognized by the crew. Jokes about assimilation tend not to go over well with anyone.
willnotcomply: (Default)

[CANON] Seven of Nine || Star Trek: Voyager || no reserve || 2

[personal profile] willnotcomply 2012-02-11 02:11 am (UTC)(link)
Despite all her Borg indoctrination, Seven is still very much human and experiences human emotions. Lacking a normal upbringing, though, she did not learn to understand and cope with them, and did not really experience them until being freed from the Collective. Afterwards, the first emotions to reassert themselves were fear and loneliness. Over time she began to experience other emotions--anger over violations of her rights as an individual, guilt over helping to destroy other civilizations through assimilation, and even some compassion for strangers. She still tends to retain a certain detachment from situations, and close off from her feelings by focusing on duties. When she is emotionally involved she can react in a juvenile manner. When the Doctor considers leaving the ship later on, she essentially gives him the silent treatment, and when reprimanded by Janeway she frequently reacts like a teenager feeling she's being wrongfully punished.

Her social development is equally stunted. Although being alone is something that unsettles her, she has difficulty relating to other people. She very quickly adopted Captain Janeway as her mentor and role model for being an individual, but only began trying to fraternize with the crew at the encouragement of the Doctor. Despite his efforts, she still finds most of the crew hard to relate to. In fact she experiences a certain amount of social anxiety and frequently uses her work as an excuse to avoid social gatherings. Her understanding of human behavior is one of the few things she sees as inferior to her crewmates', and she will readily seek explanations when confused. Although she is truly friends with only a few of the crew, she does consider Voyager her family, or her Collective, and they are important enough to her that she will willingly sacrifice her own well-being for their survival. She has done this on several occasions, including taking power from life support when the entire crew was in stasis to keep them alive, and turning herself over to the Borg Queen in exchange for Voyager's safety. Part of this self-sacrifice comes from a desire to atone for her actions as a drone, but she is also fiercely loyal to the Voyager crew.

First Person:
[There's no fumbling with this one. The feed turns on to reveal a striking blonde woman with some sort of metal device above her left eye. Her face is nearly expressionless, but there's a hint of anger in her eyes and in the set of her jaw, though not directed at her audience. When she speaks, her voice is hard and precise, almost military. Her Starfleet combadge is just visible above the lower edge of the video.]

This is Seven of Nine of the starship Voyager. I require information as to my location and the means by which I was brought here.

[One corner of her mouth quirks up slightly in a wry challenge as she adds:]

As you are no doubt familiar with "newcomers," I anticipate an efficient explanation.

Third Person:
The first thing Seven did upon realizing she was no longer on the ship was activate her combadge.

"Seven of Nine to Voyager. Voyager, respond."

Moments passed and there was no response. As she looked past the train platform and on into the apparently deserted city, she felt a stab of unease. She had been separated from Voyager before, but each time she had entered the situation knowing something of her captors or the circumstances of her separation. Now, she could not even remember leaving the ship. Was it possible that this was a simulation, or that someone had tapped into her cortical processor to disorient her? Real or not, she did not like the one fact she understood perfectly: that someone had undermined her defenses and left her stranded alone in this place.

Whatever her situation, her more than two years on Voyager had finally taught her that Captain Janeway would never abandon a member of her crew. Undoubtedly she had already begun a search. There was no cause for any anxiety, and moreover the feeling was pointless.

Suppressing it, Seven stepped down from the platform to begin exploring the area. Faith in the Captain or no, she had no intention of waiting idly for rescue. Her first task was to assess her situation. Then she could search out a way to make contact with the ship. She might even find a way to get back to Voyager on her own.

[CANON] JILL VALENTINE || Resident Evil || Reserve || 1/2

[personal profile] masterofsillypuzzles 2012-02-14 10:54 pm (UTC)(link)
Name: Pie
Personal Journal: [personal profile] tentacular
AIM/MSN/etc: dmnthepatriots (AIM)

Name: Jill Valentine
Canon: Resident Evil 3
Timeline: Upon entering the clock tower, midway through the game. This is a couple of hours before the rescue helicopter was shot down by Nemesis and prior to infection with the T-Virus.
If playing another character from the same canon, how will you deal with this?: N/A

[CANON] JILL VALENTINE || Resident Evil || Reserve || 2/2

[personal profile] masterofsillypuzzles 2012-02-14 10:54 pm (UTC)(link)
All in all, Jill Valentine was intended to be the model of a strong woman than both genders could admire, for both her looks and her competence. While she may be shown as a weaker person physically, her wits and skill with weaponry of all kinds overshadows her physical failings and she is not without strength. Occasionally she may even get into a combat high where she reflexively kills anything that pursues without hesitation.

A confident woman, Jill is never afraid to make her thoughts known. Although she doesn’t see through either Wesker’s betrayal or the threat of Nicholai until the very end, she is generally good at judging the situation. She simply has less skills in judging people, and is initially something of an idealist in regards to their nature. That soon fades however at the recognition of Umbrella's actions and the betrayal of her own captain.

She is often ruled by her more brave emotions and needs to be brought back to ground. One of the few emotions that she does not act on impetuously, however, is fear. Even when terrified she keeps herself in check and keeps going on. Nor does she dwell in despair and misery, save for the one time when she is infected by the T Virus. Even she has her limits.

She’s quite the realist when it comes to situations and is perfectly capable of keeping herself going. She is quite an indomitable person. Nothing short of death or unconsciousness will keep her down. Even when injured, she’ll continue on to the end. Even after her escape from Raccoon City, Jill makes it her mission to take Umbrella down and even after it is destroyed she continues working against bio-terrorism outbreaks involving bio-organic weapons. She is very loyal to her cause and doesn’t want anyone else to profit from such a terrible act.

As a skilled armswoman, she shows herself to have experience in all kinds of weaponry, as befitting her training. When there is a weapon in her hands, then alone is there complete calm and focus. However, Jill is a risk-taker to the core; if there is a chance of stopping an enemy which might backfire, she will take it. Even knowing the risk, she remained in Raccoon City until there was no hope for it before deciding to escape and despite the danger of the monsters outside of Arklay Mansion, she attempts to go back out for Chris until checked by Wesker. Quick to think, she’s fast at coming up with ideas that may seem insane to others but which work out entirely practical.

However she can be rather impractical; as shown in her style of dress in Resident Evil 3, which allows for great movement but little protection. In everything she does, Jill shows perfect faith. Despite this she can be rather clumsy, falling on her backside at several opportunities throughout the games she’s in and at least once activating traps that she needed to be rescued from. Although a little suspicious – particularly of Umbrella personnel – she tends to be a very friendly and relaxed person, getting along well with women and men alike. She can be foul mouthed when she’s stressed, but it’s rarely strong language. She can also be known to wisecrack at her enemies, an apparent stress-relieving action.

A dedicated pianist, Jill is ambidextrous and utilizes both her hands equally. She rarely gives up and even when exposed to the danger in the Arklay Mansion, after a few pratfalls and one panicked run, she throws herself at the enemies and traps within. As mentioned before, she fell into only one trap and proceeded to explore, re-explore and figure out every single other trap there.

Jill doesn’t really have a “tact” gene in her; while she tries sometimes, she tends to be quite clear with the way she thinks and feels. She has a very simplistic view of death; while she can be a little hesitant telling strangers – like Carlos – that people they know are dead, she tends to be quite blunt about it. While people she knows might involve a sad tone, she doesn’t allow herself to dwell on it.

Despite her young age, Jill Valentine is a very accomplished young woman. As an ex-member of Delta Force and a recent leaver of the Raccoon City Special Tactics and Rescue Service, she has had police and military training – albeit not all of the savory type. Her status as the “master of unlocking” shows – and in the novels, non-canon as they are, it has been confirmed – that she is not as concerned with legality as her positions would indicate. Indeed, many times during the second and third game it’s implied that Jill and Chris went below legal means to get information.

However when a reprieve comes she is understandably overjoyed to the point of relaxing her guard. At the end of the first game she forgets herself and rests her head on Chris’ shoulder; midway through the third game she loses all decorum while flagging the rescue helicopter down and is quite horrified when it explodes. She’s shown to be quite cheerful when not in life or death situations and is quite mentally resilient to trauma.Despite the situation she attempts to protect the civilians she sees, yet carries on when she fails.

First Person: [A watch was not hard to notice in her sidepack. Had someone slipped it in, surely she would have noticed. Yet there it was, a firm and strong weight against her hip, and she fussed over it for a few moments before managing to record. Interesting. Some type of radio, then?]

This is Jill Valentine, of the Raccoon City Special Tactics and Rescue Service. Requesting immediate intel. Please respond.

[A brief pause, then she pressed the button to broadcast again.]

Requesting directions to the nearest medical facility. There is a possibility of infection. Over.

[A sigh, not noticing she hasn't stopped it.]

Am I... dreaming? I'm really out?

Third Person:
From one prison to another.

At least this one didn't have zombies - for the moment. The medical check had revealed nothing abnormal; no trace of the T-Virus or any other type of virus for that matter. But that didn't mean there was no risk of it reaching here. Perhaps her 'last escape' was not her last after all. Or could this be part of the same prison? A fever dream, or hallucination. The dream of a zombie.

She shook her head, drawing in a slow sigh before laughing a little as she sat back in the chair. The sun was shining down upon her. It warmed her skin and lifted her mood. All in all, she could have picked a worse place to be imprisoned in. If this was a dream, it could last, for now. But not forever. Sooner or later she had to get back. Umbrella was still out there and they couldn't allow another disaster like Raccoon City.

There was no way she could leave it all to Chris.

Her fingers toyed with the chain that she had attached to the watch in order to carry it easier. So this tool was her only connection to people here. Perhaps they could be useful. Perhaps not. Still, it was unlikely that she would be able to escape on her own.

Perhaps this would be her last escape.

An escape back to reality, with all its pains and joys.
onethirdhuman: From Hollow Art -- Delfine Bafort (Default)

Haru Fairchild || Original Character || No Reserve

[personal profile] onethirdhuman 2012-02-17 04:26 pm (UTC)(link)
gottapeeagainstthewind: (I'ma yosuke!)

Yosuke Hanamura | Persona 4 | Reserves

[personal profile] gottapeeagainstthewind 2012-02-18 09:34 am (UTC)(link)


[personal profile] tipsywhorebible - 2012-02-28 02:28 (UTC) - Expand
quiet_mischief: (Default)

[CANON] Prince Loki Odinson | Thor: Tales of Asgard | No Reserve | 1 of 2

[personal profile] quiet_mischief 2012-02-22 04:40 am (UTC)(link)
Name: Elaine/EB
Personal Journal: info_sponge
AIM/MSN/etc: ruffledpeacock

Name: Prince Loki Odinson
Canon: Thor: Tales of Asgard
Timeline: Having just set sail again for Jotunheim after the bar fight.
If playing another character from the same canon, how will you deal with this?:N/A

The loyalty that Loki shows for his family and friends has not been misplaced yet, he cares so much for his older brother that he willingly follows him and their friends, the Warriors Three – Frandal, Hogun and Volstagg - not only into the forbidden realm of Jotunheim but to the Valkyrie’s training camp, a place where no male is allowed to set foot, all because he loves and wishes to protect Thor during their dangerous quest, even at the risk of his own life.

Though as time and Myth will tell, he can be ruled by anger, hatred and the thirst for revenge as he strikes down without remorse a once trusted advisor who had not only betrayed The House of Odin but wished to lay waste to all of Asgard as well.

Loki is highly intelligent and unlike his brother has a thirst for knowledge, though he is skilled in hand-to-hand combat and with throwing knives, as he can usually be found studying alone in his rooms or receiving lessons in sorcery with Amora, his teenage crush, if he is not watching his brother train in the battle arena with the palace guards. Though sometimes his knowledge of magic and cockiness can unwittingly get himself and others in trouble but also out of it as well, though the owner of the bar he set on fire to aid in their escape might not be pleased with him for some time.

Often Loki feels shunned by the other Asgardians, sure they have to at least pretend to like him as after all he is a son of Odin Allfather but there are times that he catches a glimpse of distrust or even hatred slip through their masks as he walks by alone. He isn’t sure if it has something to do with his unusual coloring – raven black hair and green eyes were not normal in Asgard – or if it was because he was so magically powerful, either way their hidden disgust fed his need to excel and prove him worthy for his title as the second Prince of Asgard, so for that he was grateful.
quiet_mischief: (I dispare of you brother)

[CANON] Prince Loki Odinson | Thor: Tales of Asgard | No Reserve | 2 of 2

[personal profile] quiet_mischief 2012-02-22 04:41 am (UTC)(link)
First Person:
[Was this some strange joke? Did someone really think they could just take a son of Odin? He looked around the strange oblong shaped box he was now sitting in that had seemed to have stopped moving, noting that it looked like a carriage but not one pulled by horses and that he was alone.]

Thor? Brother, where are you?

[Loki was starting to panic, internally as if he found his brother he didn’t want him to think that he was a coward. Another glance around the train car revealed an even stranger golden, spherical object that had been placed beside him. The raven haired prince jumped slightly when the lid flipped open to show some sort of monitoring or recording spell but nothing he had heard of before.]

Well done brother, you’ve stranded us on Midgar. [The device caught before he snapped the watch shut.]

Third Person:
Where was he? What had happened and more importantly, where was Thor? Fear gripped at Loki as he found himself alone in some strange looking cell. Could he really call it a cell as it looked more like a carriage he had read about in some of the books about Midgar but that wasn’t important right now, finding his brother was.

“Thor? Brother, where are you?” He called out, trying to keep the panic from his voice so that he didn’t seem like the cowardly little brother that he actually felt at being trapped somewhere he didn’t know.

After another search of the structure to find some clue as to where the young prince was, who had taken him and how he could escape, he came across a weird looking, golden, spherical object in the space that he had been sitting. Allowing curiosity to take over for a few minutes, hoping that this was the clue he was looking for, Loki started to examine it only to startle himself when it opened, he was doing very well at looking like a fool. Inside there seemed to be some sort of monitoring or recording spell, none like any he had seen before but would enjoy studying once he was safely back home, though he now had a horrible feeling that he knew exactly where he was.

“Well done brother, you’ve stranded us on Midgar.” The device recorded before Loki snapped the lid shut, his tone was one of annoyance, despair and slight anger as if he knew something like this would happen.


[personal profile] quiet_mischief - 2012-02-26 17:05 (UTC) - Expand


[personal profile] quiet_mischief - 2012-02-26 17:05 (UTC) - Expand


[personal profile] quiet_mischief - 2012-02-28 02:52 (UTC) - Expand
dutyxbound: (兑现 // Consolidate)

{ [CANON] Tseng || Final Fantasy VII || Reserve || 1 of X }

[personal profile] dutyxbound 2012-02-24 02:18 am (UTC)(link)
Name: Kurios/Kuu
Personal Journal: N/A
AIM: skyxhigh_dream

Name: Tseng
Canon: Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children Complete
Timeline: Post Advent Children Complete, pre Dirge of Cerberus

  Tseng is, outwardly, a simple man. When he is given orders, he carries them out infallibly, setting aside emotions and personal gain for the sake of the company. He adheres to protocol and sees that all missions and paperwork are thoroughly completed and properly recorded and filed away for archival purposes. He keeps his Turks in line and suffers the consequences for his men when they fail to meet up to the company's standards as well as oversees both the protection of the board of directors and the company via control of information.

  Operating with a graceful efficiency, he completes each objective almost to the point of overachieving. Nothing is ever halfway with him. Over the years, he's honed his ability to see the bigger picture, break it down, and analyze the details of all the individual pieces that make up the whole. That isn't to say Tseng is a chess master. No, he still fails to plan for a number of possibilities and misses things (as it was a captive Rufus who’d successfully located Veld after Tseng spent weeks searching in the end). But he does operate very well under stress. Even if the situation might be dire, he remains calm and makes the time to alter his plan of action – and, thanks to that same composure, others don’t always pick up on it.

  However, should one pay close attention, there is far more to this Wutainese man than what his job description might suggest – impressive though that may already be standing alone.

  To begin, Tseng is the epitome of everything Wutai stands for. He was raised to have respect for his elders and superiors. This serves him well considering his job is to follow orders rather than question them. He maintains a fell grace, and though his face is usually a blank slate, there is always a welcoming and hospitable confidence somehow present on it. And if not hospitality, then he is the visage of responsibility, ever keenly aware of his surroundings and objectives. He is amiable and polite, always a pleasure to have around. Even though he is never the life of any event, he holds fast to Wutai traditions when outside of the work place – if invited to a dinner, he never eats first until everyone is seated and ready; he brings small gifts when invited to homes such as fireworks for Reno, a new pair of shades for Rude, or books or fruits for Elena; and he assists with clean-up when allowed. Of course, that isn't to say Tseng is a robot whose only setting is 'polite.' There have been a few times when, in the midst of friendly company, he has shown that he has a humorous side – a humorous side comprised of a rather clever and quick wit.

  Tseng upholds what small fraction of the traditions he knows; not as a means to force his culture into the company nor cling desperately to a past he shed himself of but because the politesse has already become part of who he is a long time ago. When asked, he may discuss the traditions, holidays, cuisine, and language of his people, but he's never been seen or heard of indulging in any aspect of them aside from meals. Despite Wutainese being his first language, he very rarely speaks it unless it's needed for official business – in fact, the reason his English is so proper stems both from his personality and the fact that it is his second language.

  But there is still a very human element to Tseng. While he upholds his duties, he is a man who values the life of others over his mission objectives, and the rest of the Turks often see that very dedication and compassion hidden underneath the outer, tempered layers of his heart. He does his best to look out for Reno, Rude, Elena, and the President without holding their hands – and, like Veld, he knows when to bear the burden without a single hint of complaint for his co-workers. Nonetheless, he recognizes when he has to get down to business and make use of his authority as Commander of the Turks. Rare is the day anyone other than Reno give him any kind of lip. That said, Tseng would never ask his Turks to do something that he would not do himself. And, chances are, he already has.

  Those are the traits that the other Turks have come to respect in Tseng, the traits that helped him earn his position as the Commander. They realize his prowess on the field and in the office, but that alone can't measure Tseng's worth as an employee and weight as a leader. It's his ability to balance the human element with his duties as a Turk which has made the real difference.

  And it's also those duties of a Turk that have tempered him. He has learned that his emotions and opinions bear no weight in his job; therefore, he rarely speaks out against the powers that be unless asked – and, even then, he's still not very dogmatic or forward about it. Even to his own Turks, he is strictly professional, so, as far as everyone else is concerned, he's pretty much the equivalent of a brick wall. An approachable, polite, honest, and welcoming brick wall, but a brick wall nonetheless. The others understand that these things are considered personal, and are not to be talked about or expressed very much. However, they have also come to understand that Tseng's silent confidence and actions speak far louder than any mere words could.

  Tseng typically worked from HQ before Meteorfall, serving as the central hub for all the information his Turks called in. He’d process and update the plan of operation so as to ensure the objective was completed, but there were times he was still sent on the field to work alone, with other Turks, or even in collaboration with the SOLDIER sector. In such times, Tseng has been seen operating with the same confident focus as though he were in the office as well as reflecting the patience of a saint when need be.

  On the field, his actions are swift and calm. And, while he's capable of compassion, as with all other Turks, you better pray he doesn't have orders to eradicate you for whatever reason. His method is often painless and quick, but there's rarely an ounce of regret or hesitation in his face or actions. Likewise, he will also willingly risk or forfeit his own life to complete an objective (if need be). His loyalty is unwavering and, despite the consideration and respect he holds for his Turks and those he works closely with, his soul bears no burdens for the lives he extinguishes. They are not forgotten, but he doesn't mourn over them under most circumstances.

dutyxbound: (兑现 // Loyalty)

{ [CANON] Tseng || Final Fantasy VII || Reserve || 2 of 2 }

[personal profile] dutyxbound 2012-02-24 02:20 am (UTC)(link)
First Person: 
   [ Appearing on screen, Tseng was already busy at work, catching up on the plethora of information that need be caught up on due to his absence in this new world. He appeared rather engrossed in the task, reading over the pages within the unmarked manila folder quickly while taking his own notes on the side.  In particular, there were quick, long sweeps of the pen in hand, and he moved about almost disjointedly on the paper. Rest assured, though, that where Tseng was involved, there was always a very sound method. If Elena saw the feed, she may either presently notice, or later find out, that he was making a flow chart, a time-line of events for himself based off of the information he was able to find.

  After a few minutes, when he did finally look up to reach for his cup of tea, he noticed the communicator was on and recording. He wasted no time in calmly addressing the public without the slightest hint of surprise or annoyance on his features or in his voice. In fact, Tseng used this unpleasant surprise as an opportunity to learn more about the city around him. ]

  Would anyone know where I may find quality tea?

Third Person: 

  Tseng had endured worse odds before: being pinned under steel beams in a self-destructing submarine, facing down death in a sewer, evacuating Midgar while it crumbled, and being tortured by three Remnants of Sephiroth. What was a pack of Wargs against two guns and Materia when compared to those impossible circumstances?

  He stood still, eyes flickering between the three hell hounds as they paced. They knew this human wasn't fast enough to out run them, even if there was anywhere to go that he could hide. And though humans normally carried weapons, they saw none, and an un-armed human was far from strong enough to take out one, let alone three.

  But what they didn't know was that Tseng had his weapons holstered, hidden inside his jacket for occasions as these. Occasions wherein he took it upon himself to go out on the field and assist his Turks in dangerous field missions. He and Elena were to assist in the protection of a band of engineers and construction workers, securing the land and keeping wild beasts at bay while they extended the city limits, building new establishments to try and expand, to create more safe havens and outposts for men to keep watch on the affairs of their captors.

  This sector was assumed to be safe and cleared, it had been a number of months since they began to expand, and there were no reports of missing workers or attacks for two weeks now. But these three Wargs in front of him were trying to prove him wrong, for one of them broke rank to lunge at him, fangs bared.

  Tseng whipped out one of his guns, unlocking, cocking, and firing three rounds at its head. The Warg dug its claws into the ground, whipping off at a harsh angle to turn and dart to one side. The first bullet missed, the second pierced a shoulder and wrought a painful snarl from it, and the third grazed its temple. Bone was broken, but only to skim along the surface. It didn't pierce the skull or brain. That Warg was at least put down for a few seconds, a precious few seconds he would absolutely need, for the other two had immediately come at him--and where the first came at him head on, the other two attacked his flanks.

  That, he had been expecting, but he did not expect the other two to swerve and criss-cross, switching sides. He'd pulled out his second gun just as quickly, and aimed for either one, but no shot landed. His face tightened and he moved, quickly, taking off at an angle to go between the incapacitated Warg and one that was beginning to circle around and come at him at the front.

  He kept his calm though the beasts were closing in. He could feel the current of air as one reached out and swiped for the tail of his coat, and the other one, running parallel to him now instead of trying to get ahead of him, was closing the gap like any predator would before the pounce. And then it lunged at him, flying through the air. Tseng's heart was racing, beating like a runaway train, but his eyes only narrowed with focus. His mind was running through any number of thoughts just as quickly as his heart was pounding in his chest, but he would never let fear take over. Not even when the Remnants tortured him, did he dare let them see fear. No, to be afraid was to lose control of the situation, and to lose control was death. So as that Warg launched through the air at him, he tucked and rolled, holding both guns over his head.

  Four rounds were fired into that creature's gut, he counted, always keeping track of the ammunition he had left to him, but he hadn't long to focus on that right now. He was more concerned with the other Warg that remained behind him. It had leaned to bear to Tseng's opposite side, used to the normal reactions of other wild animals to turn and go in the opposite direction. But when Tseng ducked and hit the ground, it slid in, claws again reaching for him. More rounds were fired at the third Warg, he was prepared for that one to come in and seal the deal just in case, but even predicting the instinctual behavior of wild animals, his reactions were still too slow. He was only human, after all.

  It had already sank its claws into his leg, and it was trying to claw its way up to his torso by the time the first bullets pierced its shoulder. Both let out cries of pain, but both persisted in their goals, Tseng gritting his teeth as adrenaline kicked in and dulled the pain. It kept coming, teeth gnashing and spittle going everywhere between wild and nearly rabid barks and snarls. It tried to duck and weave, but it was nearly at point blank range, and it had been lucky to miss the first two bullets. The third one landed right between the eyes, killing it instantly.

  The wind was knocked out of him when it dropped dead on top of him, and it was tempting to lie there for a second and recover, but the adrenaline would wear off soon, and these gashes would quickly bring him down at the rate they were bleeding. So he gathered himself up, shoved the hound off, and moved to sit under some brush to avoid the inevitable scavengers while tending to himself.

  The other two would die soon from blood loss if they weren't dead already--the head bleeds quickly and that many shots to the gut was lethal without immediate care. Even so, Tseng was still aware of the sounds around him while making use of his Cure Materia. And once his wounds were tended to well enough, he had to call Elena and the other members of the team. Others were moving in to take up the territory left behind from their previous sweeps, and he'd gotten lucky.
lifewithoutrest: (Default)

[CANON ] Helen Magnus || Sanctuary || No Reserve || 1 of 3

[personal profile] lifewithoutrest 2012-02-24 05:15 pm (UTC)(link)
Name: Ashley
Personal Journal: [personal profile] sentientmist
AIM/MSN/etc: sentientmist on AIM

Name: Helen Magnus
Canon: Sanctuary
Timeline: Just after Firewall.
If playing another character from the same canon, how will you deal with this? N/A
lifewithoutrest: (Default)

Re: [CANON ] Helen Magnus || Sanctuary || No Reserve || 2 of 3

[personal profile] lifewithoutrest 2012-02-24 05:15 pm (UTC)(link)
Personality: Helen Magnus was born to Gregory Magnus and Patricia Heathering on August 27, in the year 1850. She was brought up in Victorian London, and as a young woman she attended the Royal College of Surgeons. However, in that time, it was found unacceptable for a woman to become a doctor, and her application to be certified was repeatedly denied. Frustrated, but never one to back down, she went to her father, a leading physician of his time. She begged him to mentor her, to show her his work. He agreed, and her life was forever changed by what she learned.

Assisting her father in his work, Helen discovered a world she had never before known existed. His Sanctuary was home to creatures of myth and legend, creatures known as abnormals. She had found her calling.

With her father’s help, Helen was able to study at Oxford where she met four classmates who would become involved with her work, allowing themselves to be injected with a serum derived from pure vampire blood. Each received a unique gift from this experiment. Helen’s was longevity.

Her extremely slow aging has given Helen many opportunities she would never have had otherwise. She has witnessed incredible things in her life, major historical events most can only wonder at, and she has seen both the beauty and the darkness of life. It has also led her to have a unique perspective of the world we live in. Over the years she expanded her father’s work, creating a network which spans the globe providing sanctuary for abnormals everywhere.

While her longevity has been a blessing in her work, it has often been a curse in other ways. Imagine knowing you will outlive virtually everyone you love. This is a reality Helen lives with every day. She is painfully aware that she will likely lose anyone she gets close to, either through her work or to age. Perhaps one of her most significant losses was that of James Watson, her partner and colleague of more than a century. Over time, this awareness has come to have a significant impact on the decisions she makes and the relationships she has.

Though she sometimes appears soft, there is no question Helen is strong, capable, and passionate about her work. We see exactly how far she is willing to go in order to protect her work when we learn about The Five hunting down Adam Worth. It is also seen in the countless times she has risked her life for the Sanctuary. However, upon first meeting her, she can often seem distant. In truth, she is quite the opposite.

Helen is a very guarded individual, as much out of necessity as anything else. The unknown length of her life, and the uncertainty of her work has left her reluctant to open up to another person. Those she allows behind her walls are few, and she selects them carefully. It means a great deal if she is willing to open her heart to you, or even simply be herself in your company.

This is not to say she is shy about intimacy. She is comfortable with herself and her body, and she is surprisingly fond of physical contact, knowing that a simple touch can often mean more than words. This is most obvious when she is with those closest to her, especially with her daughter, Ashley. Her body language is more apt to voice her thoughts than she is, and if one truly hopes to gain insight into her emotions, they need only learn to pay attention to her eyes.

Helen is confident, occasionally to a fault, but she also tends to take others’ burdens as her own. She harbors a tremendous amount of guilt, often blaming herself for circumstances beyond her control. While she makes it a practice not to hold regrets, her mistakes and failures are rarely far from the surface, influencing her methods and actions.

Though Helen has lived too long and seen too much to follow any specific religion, she has a great deal of faith. She is very spiritual, in her own way. She does believe there is something greater than herself, and at times, she draws strength and comfort from that belief. Still, what truly keeps her waking up in the morning is her work. She has devoted nearly her entire life to ensuring abnormals are given protection and common courtesy, while also working to protect humans from those abnormals too dangerous to be allowed freedom.

One of Helen’s more interesting qualities is her sense of humor. It is very dry and occasionally almost unsophisticated. This is usually only seen when she is in the company of those she considers close friends.

Underneath it all, Helen is caring and compassionate in everything she does, giving to others more than she would ever consider taking for herself. She is a very unique individual who has lived through things most could not imagine, but she takes it mostly in stride. Her work is never finished, and she will not rest until it is.
rule_britannia: (Default)

[CANON] ARTHUR KIRKLAND || Axis Powers: Hetalia || No Reserve || 1 of 3

[personal profile] rule_britannia 2012-02-24 09:44 pm (UTC)(link)
Name: Fiona
Personal Journal: [personal profile] blood_winged
AIM/MSN/etc: littlebritteacup/

Name: Arthur Kirkland
Canon: Hetalia
Timeline: Modern (2012) onwards
If playing another character from the same canon, how will you deal with this?: N/A
rule_britannia: (Default)

Re: [CANON] ARTHUR KIRKLAND || Axis Powers: Hetalia || No Reserve || 1 of 3

[personal profile] rule_britannia 2012-02-24 09:45 pm (UTC)(link)

Although at first he can be cold and seems easily irritated, Arthur will quickly warm up to people that he likes. He finds conversation difficult, not for any lack of trying but rather because he often finds it hard to make himself understood, lacking a certain tact that many other European nations are blessed with. When he is annoyed he will usually make a situation worse by arguing long after he really needs to, and since he doesn't like to apologise such things are usually left until the other side gives in. He is incredibly stubborn, and it takes a lot for him to give in once he has decided that he thinks of something in a certain way.

Arthur has gone from being picked on and bullied as a young nation, to a major world power, and is now dealing with the fact that he is no longer one of the world's superpowers (even if his government doesn't want to admit it). He can be quite sensitive about the issue and doesn't like to have it brought up, though rather than making him angry he has a tendency to become melancholy when it is talked about. He still has some personality left over from his days as an Empire, making him occasionally rash and impulsive, and he often thinks that he can do things which are simply beyond his ability. His years of self-imposed isolation have meant that he finds it harder than some to make new friends, and although he will often say that he is perfectly content with being alone, he is of course lying.

He becomes flustered under close scrutiny and if paid compliments, but hates blushing and will often become moody if such a thing happens. Only tolerating teasing from very few people he will come back with biting comments at others, the sharpness of his mind certainly not dulled by his age. However under the right circumstances he can be incredibly sweet, kind and caring, and is capable of being very charming when he wants to be. Arthur has a very chivalrous side when it comes to women, and will always treat them with the utmost respect, holding doors open and pulling out chairs for them, often to the bemusement of other male nations.

If he is relaxed enough with somebody they will discover an entirely new aspect of his personality, very cheeky and fun-loving, but this isn't something that many people get to witness.

The pirate-turned-gentleman can become moody around certain times of the year, even at times which often don't seem clear to anyone else.

It is almost a trademark of Arthur's that he enjoys drinking tea, and he does, almost to an excess and he can sometimes become a little hyperactive because of the amount of caffeine when he has had too much of it and very little to eat. He is currently a recovering alcoholic, after hitting the bottle over 200 years ago and drinking rather steadily since. Although he still slips up at times he tries his best not to drink, since he knows what it does to him more often than not and he doesn't really enjoy being like that (particularly not the morning after, when he simply wants to die). He likes the smell of coffee though he doesn't often drink it.

Arthur can't cook, and he knows that he can't. The one thing that he is capable of making is a full English breakfast, something which he prides himself on, though it is something of a mystery how he can make something with so many components and yet still manage to burn soup.

His magical ability, something that he shares with his brothers as well as Norway, Egypt and Romania, is something which he rarely shows off to other people unless he can trust them not to simply think that he's insane. Despite the fact that his talents have been severely damaged by two centuries of alcohol abuse, he is slowly recovering them and doesn't blow things up half as much as he used to. When he is pushed to an extreme level of emotional upset he will often make jars explode without meaning to, however this happens very rarely.
tipsywhorebible: (trust me im kinda a scientist)

[Canon] Roxy Lalonde | MS Paint Adventures: Homestuck | Not Reserved

[personal profile] tipsywhorebible 2012-02-25 02:07 am (UTC)(link)


[personal profile] tipsywhorebible - 2012-02-26 12:34 (UTC) - Expand
westerned: (Default)

[OC] Rufus Townsen | Not Reserved | 1/2

[personal profile] westerned 2012-02-25 03:37 am (UTC)(link)
Name: Stephen
Personal Journal: n/a
AIM/MSN/etc: aim is interrobangings, skype is ddrwakalaka

Name: Rufus Townsen
Age: 20
Appearance: Rufus is approximately 5'7” and around 155lbs of athletic muscle. His skin is slightly tan and his nose has a perpetual sunburn which never seems to go away. His regular attire is a red plaid long-sleeve with a green bandana tied around his neck. His hair's blonde, but it's mostly hidden under a brown cowboy hat. He's got a bit of scruff growing on his chin. Rufus' eyes are blue. For pants, he usually just wears blue-jeans and cowboy boots with spurs that jingle jangle jingle. (Jingle jangle.)
Rufus grew up in the South, which affected his manner of speech. The vocabulary he uses is usually quite simple, though this is simply a manner of choice rather than a lack of intelligence. As well, he shortens his words when he speaks. For example, “Have you seen anything?” would become “Have y'seen anythin'?” When addressing people he hasn't ever met before, he'll refer to them as “ma'am,” “miss,” or “sir.” And since Rufus is polite, he rarely ever swears. Rufus likes to use silly analogies, such as “an' that's like findin' a needle in a haystack,” “yer about as cool as a glass of milk left out on a hot day. Just as rotten, too,” and “yer a sneaky slithery snake. 'Specially 'cause I don' like usin' alliterations!”
Personality: Rufus, to put it quite simply, is gentle and kind. He's the kind of person who, if he ever saw an injured animal, would take it and nurse it back to health on his own. He tries to be reasonable and fair to everyone he knows and tires to never take advantage of anyone. Rufus is also quite trusting to strangers if they seem like a trustworthy person. To him, a trustworthy person is someone who shows kindness to others, to put it simply.

If confronted, he'll generally try to keep the situation calm and try to reason with whomever is trying to attack or confront him, but if it all fails, he'll resort to using force to protect himself and any innocents nearby.

Unfortunately, due to the way his parents died, he blames himself for both of their deaths. When faced with the death of someone he cares about, it's practically world-shattering for him. Due to their deaths, he's never been able to accept death properly.

When it comes to sex, Rufus is a little shy. He's had very little experience, and the experiences he's had was a 7-minutes-in-heaven with a girl he didn't particularly like, which weirded him out severely. He knows that Tab A goes into Slot B (or maybe even C,) but if he had to put that to practice, he'd be rather shy about it and not know how to make it feel amazing for his partner.

Rufus considers himself to be somewhat of a gentleman, though sometimes it seems as if he's being flirty. He'll tip his hat, bow, and other things like that. Sometimes he'll even give a wink or a coy little smile, but he doesn't mean to seem flirty at all. In his mind, he's just being polite.

His social skills aren't the best amazing, but he's got a certain charm about him which usually gets him out of trouble. Or into it, depending on whom he's speaking to. He isn't one to be able to tell what someone's thinking, unless it's at least a little obvious. His manners are fairly good, too. Except when he eats. He's a messy eater.

There's quite a few things that Rufus likes. He likes good ol' fashioned country music, playing the guitar, home-cooked meals, cooking home-cooked meals, tending to animals, helping people out, tending to vegetables, and a nice cold glass of milk.

Although Rufus is usually a non-violent person, he believes in justice above all else. He'll confront the person he's against with intense passion if the reasoning fails. Of course, he'll try not to get incredibly violent at first, but he'll bring out his guns if necessary.

Rufus is a hard worker. He's the kind of person who takes up a job and sees things through until the end. To him, he feels the need to make sure things are finished, not just finish it up halfway and pick it up some other day. He'll try to take as few breaks as possible.

While he tries not to judge anyone, he doesn't think too highly of people who drink lots of alcohol, since the only experience he's had with alcoholics is his awful father. He's indifferent to herbal drugs, such as marijuana.

There are a few things which bother Rufus. The first is the whirr of an electrical can-opener. That freaks him out and causes him to freeze up a bit. Second would be the sight of dead bodies. It causes him to remember that incident with his father, which causes him to feel nauseous and ill. Finally, the smell of too much alcohol in someone's breath shifts his mood into an unpleasant one. He'll usually remove himself from the situation as fast as he can, but if he's stuck there, he'll forcefully leave.

World Information: Rufus' world is nearly identical to modern-day earth, though there are some minor differences. Stereotypes are more common than in ours. Some people, for example, seem exactly like stock characters, while others seem like real people.

Technologically, it's the same. However, Rufus lives in a VERY small town. His town isn't all that advanced, though people are aware of more technological stuff, such as the internet and MP3 players and whatnot.

Rufus' town, named Smallstrap, has a population of maybe 1000 people. There's a general store, a small clinic, a saloon or two, a library, a bank, and a few other stores. It's not very big, and the population is quite close-knit. Everyone knows everyone, and everyone knows if something happens, no matter how small.
History: Rufus' story began in a small ranch in the southern United States, the home of the Townsen family. His parents were a happy couple; Jeremiah Townsen loved his wife more than anything anything in the world, and Anna-Lee Henders felt much the same. Everything seemed to be going well for them, and nothing seemed to separate them. Case in point, they were together when Anna-Lee gave birth on a peaceful September morning, in which a beautiful baby boy was born..

Unfortunately, a tragedy struck the Townsens immediately afterward. The strain of giving birth was too hard on poor Anna-Lee's body. Suffering from a weak heart and a tiny body, she held her baby in her arms, kissing her “little Rufus” on the forehead before she passed away.

Jeremiah, who was furious at the loss of his wife, blamed the whole thing on his son. Though he was a baby, he already didn't like him one bit. He did take his darling wife away from him, after all. However, blaming Rufus wouldn't take the pain of losing his wife away, so he ended up turning to alcohol.

This, in turn, led to many unfortunate accidents which happened to Rufus while he was growing up. On his fourth birthday, Jeremiah accidentally cut off Rufus' left index finger in an unfortunate can-opening accident. It was very unfortunate. Hence the unfortunate event of misfortune. His father took him to the hospital with that excuse that Rufus had somehow got his hand caught in a bear trap.

When Rufus was nine, he lost his middle finger and a chunk of his ear when he lost his temper and flipped off his father. Which wasn't a good idea, considering how drunk his father was at the time. He chased after him with a pistol, firing shot after shot at him, hitting him first in the hand, which caused Rufus to start running, then once more in the ear before he successfully got away.

When his father finally sobered up a little, he took Rufus to the hospital with the excuse that he had fallen into another bear trap. The doctors didn't really believe Jeremiah, but they didn't have any proof. The wound had been thoroughly cleaned. Unfortunately, the damage was irreversible at that point. Rufus was now down two fingers and a half an ear.

Besides that, Rufus' life wasn't so bad, really. When he was six years old, he started an impromptu homeschooling from his father, but still made a few friends, though he was always forced to do chores and whatnot at home. Stuff like tending to farm animals, tilling the field, planting crops... Farmer stuff. This continued into his adolescent life, even as he got his own job and began to practice with pistols of his own. It was exciting to buy both of them, since he'd been saving up for a long time to buy them.

Although some people found it rather silly, he gave his pistols names of their own. The one for his left hand was named John Wilkes Booth, while the other one was named Lee Harvey Oswald. Though both were named after infamous assassins, he vowed only to use them for good. In his mind, he thought he could “redeem” the two men if he tried hard enough.

He practised frequently, eventually becoming an excellent shot that many people became jealous of. In fact, when he was only sixteen years old, he worked his hardest to win first place in a shooting competition in an attempt to impress his father. Unfortunately, his father didn't even care. While he knew he was a great shot, he wouldn't dare brag about it. Rufus had grown up to become a polite young man with impeccable manners. Well, usually. If there was one thing that could ever make Rufus angry, it would be people mistreating others.

This proved to be a source of stress for him, since his father had become one of the rudest, cruelest, nastiest people he had ever met by the time Rufus had turned seventeen. Thankfully, years of living with this man had taught him to be patient with his kind of people. But still, there were days where it almost became unbearable to live with him, try as he might.

One small argument over the cooking (which Rufus always did) escalated into a gunpoint stand off which both parties practically dared the other to fire. Of course, neither of them did.

Rufus' adolescence was mostly normal. He was a polite young man with good looks, but he wasn't too interested in dating anyone. He wasn't popular or unpopular. It was as if the very school around him was indifferent about him being there. However, when he did attend highschool, people immediately asked questions about his hands and ear. Rufus' excuse was, "fell onto a bear trap. Dang thing cut me up real good."

But a week after Rufus had turned eighteen, he received a phonecall from a friend, who informed him that his father was threatening people in town. Without a moment of hesitation, Rufus headed out to deal with the situation.

The sight he was greeted by wasn't exactly pretty. His father had shot a man in the face on the main street and was now holding a young woman hostage. She was crying out for help. The second his father noticed Rufus, he sneered, and pressed his gun against the hostage's face with more pressure, making her squirm. He was drunker than he'd ever been.

Rufus quickly drew his guns, pointing them at his father. He was quivering with fear, having to point weapons at his own old man, but he couldn't just let him potentially kill another person.

“Do it, Rufus! I fuckin' dare ya, y'little faggot!” screamed his father, his face contorted with rage. “Y'fuckin' dare t'point guns't me, y'nasty lil' shitter. Y'aren't even s'posed to be alive! Yer mother wanted ya, not me!”

Such insults had been heard before by Rufus, so he just gulped and kept his pistols at the ready. “Daddy... please, don' make me do anythin' irrational...” he pleaded, staring down his father.

“Don' call me daddy, y'piece of shit! I never loved you, not fer a moment!”

Something at that moment broke inside of Rufus. Although his father had never told him he loved him before, he had never told him that he didn't love him at all. Never before. But this was too much to bear for Rufus.

“...I'm sorry,” was the last thing Rufus said to his father before he fired upon him with both pistols. He hit his target with incredible accuracy, hitting just above each eyeball with a sickening crack. With that same disgusting sneer on his face, he fell to the ground, dead.

People swarmed Rufus, picking him up into the air, parading him around and calling him a hero. Of course, the dead men were attended to and the young girl who had been held hostage was sent home, but Rufus was a hero!

He certainly didn't look like a hero. His expression was blank, slightly solemn, and sad. He didn't cry, though. Or smile. Or hardly even move. He just let the townsfolk have their fun before heading home to sit quietly and do nothing.

The next day, Rufus rode down the main street of town again, this time with a carful of mementos, his guns, clothes, and some money. The empty, sad expression was gone, instead replaced with a cheery smile. Even though he looked happy, upon close inspection, it was clearly fake. But nonetheless, he carried on through town.

Strengths/Weaknesses: Rufus is an adult male. He's susceptible to burning, stabbing, ripping, tearing, shooting, cutting, slicing, and any other awful forms of being injured as most anyone else is. He's in pretty good shape, however, so he'd be able to take more than a few hits before going down.
While shooting, his right hand is more prone to recoil due to his erratic grip, so he can't shoot as fast as he can with his left hand.
Unfortunately, he's actually a bit dumb. Perhaps dumb would be the wrong word, though. Naïve might be a better way to describe it. Since he never really get the chance to go out and experience the world, he's not all that sure about certain things. For example, he's slightly rusty with his people skills, he won't know what certain things are worth, he's kind of a poor driver, he can't swim, he thinks lobsters are giant bugs, and other silly things like that. But because of this, he's very willing to learn.
Abilities: Rufus doesn't have any "magic," but he's an EXCELLENT shot with two pistols, and can play guitar. He also knows basic life skills and can live on his own, but this isn't really a power or ability. He can drive a car or a horse, as well.

Due to the loss of two fingers, life has been a little harder for him. His dexterity with his middle-right finger is that of the average person's index finger from years of practice, however. He fires the trigger of his right gun with said finger, as well as manages to play guitar with it, though he has to play slowly or he'll mess up.

Despite all his experience and practicing, he still fumbles up a little bit. For example, if someone asked him to catch something, he might accidentally drop it. He's also more prone to losing his grip than other people are, too.
westerned: (Default)

[OC] Rufus Townsen | Not Reserved | 2/2

[personal profile] westerned 2012-02-25 03:37 am (UTC)(link)

First Person: I have samples from Exitvoid, Ruby City, and Lovestruck.
I'M REAPPING SO... YEAH. Stuff I did when I was actually in the game.

Third Person: Waking up in a cold sweat was never pleasant. Everyone knows that. Be it from sickness, nightmares, or something else, they were all equally bad. In Rufus' case, it was a nightmare. He slowly sat up, trying to clear the grogginess from his head just for the moment. What had he been dreaming about? What was so terrifying?

And then he remembered: his father. Ever since that hostage incident, Rufus had been plagued by awful nightmares involving his father. In the dreams, the scene would relive itself, but with differences each time. Every time he had to shoot down his father, another bullet hole would be in his head, mocking him, screaming insults. Every time, the same awful feeling.

Once more, Rufus shook his head in an attempt to clear such awful thoughts and try to calm himself. For the most part, it worked. But mostly because his stomach grumbled just then, breaking that awkward moment. “Guess'm hankerin' for some grub...” he mumbled.

After a moment's sigh, he climbed out of bed and trudged towards the kitchen. He knew why these dreams kept happening. He was guilty. He killed his father. He killed the sole provider in his life, and he felt guilty. His stomach felt uneasy, his head felt cloudy, and it made him want to throw up. It was an awful feeling. That same feeling that had swept over him on that fateful day had never truly left him. There was always a sickening feeling which would only get worse when he thought about it.

Hands fumbled on the wall, trying to find the lightswitch. Once he finally managed to find the darn thing, he couldn't help but smirk. That's how things always felt; like he was fumbling his way along, There was no light in his life. Not yet, at least. But, as usual, he'd grin and bear it. After all, everyone had a cross to bear, didn't they?

The coolness of the tiles on his bare feet felt soothing. Sure, he woke up in a cold sweat, but this coolness was relieving, almost like a cold shower to clear his mind. But less wet, of course. As he trudged towards the fridge, he recalled what had happened up until now. He shot his father, which in a sense, killed his old life and shoved him into a new one. Then he left town in an effort to discover who he was. He worked a few odd jobs along the way, but ended up at this cheap motel he stayed at for most of this month.

And he finally arrived at the fridge. Eagerly, he swung it open, only to remember that it was mostly empty. “Jus' like m'own life. Well, at this moment, anywho.” There wasn't any rotten food – he was careful that way, since “one bad apple and you'll poison th'whole darned barrel!”

Even so, he kept browsing for food, and eventually stumbled on a half-eaten burrito. He wasn't about to waste good food. That would be silly. And although it was cold, he pulled it out of the fridge and took a bite. Old and cold, but delicious. Each bite was satisfying.

Once he finished, he closed the fridge and turned to the cabinet. They looked a bit dirty, but this was a cheap motel, after all. He grabbed a glass, filled it with water, and drank two cups.

Water, to him, was something strange to Rufus. It was so clean, so pure. He was never really used to wholesome purity while growing up, since his father made things difficult most of the time. Still, it was refreshing and satisfying.

He placed the glass down on the counter with a tiny clink, then began to head back to bed. The lights went off, he climbed into bed, and closed his eyes. “Here's t'hopin there ain't no more nightmares...”
sharktoothglare: (Default)

[OC] Russou Requin | Not Reserved

[personal profile] sharktoothglare 2012-02-25 06:32 am (UTC)(link)
Name: Steven Pope
Personal Journal: N/A
AIM/MSN/etc: AIM: deadthorn01, YIM: smileyogre

Name: Russou Requin
Age: 24
Appearance: Built like a scary tank is a good enough descriptor, but that barely does brutish amphibious man justice. His skin is a slate gray and his eyes are a shadowy blue, with a wide-bridged nose and incredibly thick eyebrows that give him a rather terrifying face. His body continues the motif large muscular frame with a hefty belly of suet, supported by trunk-like legs and standing on webbed feet. His arms, well muscled like most of him, lead to bear-like hands that are similarly webbed like his feet.
Chosen PB: Commissioned artwork

Personality: Russou is used to a life of entitlement, clearly becoming a little spoiled by his status in the Sagaraman society as a warrior. He is very used to people listening to him, doing what he asks them to do, and not having his demands questioned.

However, while this might make a weaker-willed person a full-blown tyrant, Russ is only a little bit spoiled: He will not strike some one who says “no”, and he will be as civil as possible when given a diplomatic choice over violence. This doesn't mean that his temper won't flare, but unless absolutely called for he will not go to violence. He is actually quite “lenient” of all the Rivage Frontsmen, understanding that a small crime does not deserve a big punishment.

Friendship is an odd thing for Russou, but not completely alien. He has people he is loyal to, as loyalty is probably the virtue he holds in highest regards, but he's never really had a “friend” in the traditional sense. His life has been his job, his fellow Frontsmen, and keeping the peace. However, he knows that people do HAVE friends and as such will try his best to be equally as cordial to any one he meets. He works off the logic “If they are kind to me then I should be kind in turn”.

As dignity is a big thing for Russou, he does get embarrassed quite easily on certain matters that force him to drop his metaphorical warrior's shield: This namely takes form in the realm of relationships. Any sort of physical affection, platonic or romantic, is an easy way to make the shark-like man retreat into his shell, and simple things like hugs take a level of comfort he rarely ever feels.

The idea of a romantic relationship is, however, completely alien to the shark-man. He was told from a young age that Alphas never get married, have sex, and to keep such pressures away he was encouraged to never stray

Russou has no kindness for being lied to, and putting his trust into some one is a very important thing to him. People who violate that trust will more than likely be the receiving end of a rather harsh punishment, usually a well-placed punch or a rather merciless beat-down.

World Information: The planet of Umeko is divided into three differencing but equally respected governments: The Havama Republic of the sky, Prthvima Colony of the land, and lastly, the most violent and turbulent of the three Governments, Sagarama the Ocean Monarchy, ran by the openly incestuous King Machali the XI and Queen Kekara the VII.

The Sagaraman Monarchy has many clans, the most respectful and powerful being the Warrior clans. When some one of the warrior clan mates, their children are determined to be Alphas or Betas. Alphas are raised by birth to be one of the Rivage Frontsmen, the first line of defense for the underwater kingdom who act as upholders of the law during times of peace, while Betas are taught medicine, weapon masonry, law, and other skills that support the Alphas. Below them are Gammas, Deltas, Epislons, etc.

As they are at the top of this feudal-like pyramid, all titled Alphas are treated with high honor and respect, but in order to keep them under control and focused on work they are expected to remain celibate and aromantic .
History: Born of one of the greater clans, the Clan Requin, to Magoi and Kahua, Russou was born exceptionally healthy and strong and was destined for Alpha labeling.

His his mother Magoi was hoping for a Beta that she would be allowed to raise herself, but she sadly understood her duty. Because this understanding she was incredibly distant as she raised him for five years, and as such when he was taken to be trained with the fellow Alphas at age 5, there weren't many tears shed from the young boy.

From the start of his Alpha training, he showed great talent in the art of combat and diplomacy, though he showed minimal interest in the more “functional” arts, like cooking or crafts. As far as he was concerned he was being raised to be a Rivage Frontsmen and these acts were, while respectable, Beta work. As he grew, Russ would have to rely on diplomacy and status to get any thing he wanted.

Russou quickly grew to be known as the best fighter, the biggest eater, the best upholder of the law during times of peace, and the most ferocious fighter during times of battle. In short, he was an ideal Frontsman, and was as such rewarded plentifully for his actions... But he always felt a sense of longing in his life. As if some thing was not only missing but he was denying himself some thing he always wanted... He just wasn't sure what it was he was denying.

Russou began to contemplating this feeling, as no amount of battle or celebration would remove it. He began to vocalize these questions, and this was not seen as a good thing by any of the higher ups. If one of the men in the upper echelons of Sagaraman society was questioning things, how would the Betas, Deltas, and other lower-society people possibly react?! Russou was then viewed with by contempt by most people, and was instructed to keep these thoughts to himself.

- Compassionate
- High threshold for physical pain
- Able to adapt physically to most situations
- Respects the law and tries to uphold it

- Is untrained in most “basic” skills (cleaning, cooking, etc.)
- Frustrates easily
- Isn't exactly the most intellectual man
- Has a very gruff, militaristic outward demeanor
- Had a stunted emotional development, very naiive when it comes to personal relationships

- Capable of above-human feats of strength
- Able to breathe underwater
- Skilled in swords, knives, pole arms, and unarmed combat
- Teeth and digestive system allow him to eat virtually any thing

First Person:
[The video feed begins, showing only the faintly lit inside of a hand]

Damn it all, how does on work these wretched... Oh, okay... This is the correct part to speak to. Yes.

[The camera is places on a table, showing the shirtless gray midsection of a large man with unusual skin. He takes several steps back, revealing himself fully as he looks intently at the iris of the camera, a little bit befuddled but stern in demeanor]

Um... Hello there. I am not entirely sure what it is I am expected to do with this thing? Perhaps I am to speak about my experiences here? I, uh, apologize if I am doing this wrong then, in that case.

[He clears his throat]

While I do not recall King or Queen asking me of such a thing, I seem to have found myself in this strange land-based city of sorts... In fact I do not really know how I arrived here. If some one would explain that to me, I would... I would greatly appreciate that.

[There's a pause for a moment as he looks away from the camera towards his door]

I have not left this place in a few days, except to get food. It is not terrible living conditions, though. I assure any one watching I am with all basic living requirements. I do find the room with toiletries rather small, though... And by that I mean the bathing tool? The “bath tub”, I believe? Yes. That is quite small for me... If there is a larger body of water around here, I wish to be informed of it. Please.

[he looks down, a look best described as somber flashing on his face, before he looks back up at the camera]

My name is Russou Requin of the Clan Requin, Alpha, proud servitor of the Rivage Frontsman of the Sagaraman army. Please, if you know what I speak of, please, please... Contact me. That is all. Thank you.

[he walks over to the camera and fiddles with it, grumbling can be heard]

I still do not understand these thi--

[the camera shuts off]

Third Person:
Russou paced the bathroom, webbed feet echoing a “thwack” as he rubbed his square chin, thick eyebrows furled as continued to ponder. It had been several days since Russou had been properly in the water, and while he was aware he could survive a very LONG time with out salt or sea water, he missed the feeling. Now, outside, he was informed of an ocean...A dark ocean filled with horrors unimaginable that would undoubtedly drag him to the depths and wring the blood out of him like a soggy sock. Then there was the hot springs... Which were haunted by spirits unmentionable that would steal the very fluid from his eye sockets, no doubt.

Finally, the safest option, the most boring option, was right in front of him. The bath tub. It wasn't too large, he'd be unable to be completely submerged as he'd desired, but if it was between fluid-stealing and blood-wringing he figured being slightly uncomfortable would be the best option. He squatted down next to the tub, staring at it intently. He really had no idea how it worked. He was used to telling some one he wished to bathe and, voila, there was a cleaning sphere warmed up with his name on it. This, however, was a completely different ball-game.

He put a hand inside the tub, feeling the inside. Alright, good, clearly he was meant to stand or sit on this textured center. That was quite good. He looked at the long protrusion with a hole towards the end of it, with some sort of inexplicable knob on top that, when he experimented with it, he realized it went up and down. Fascinating. Finally, he discovered two valves, one labeled Hot and one labeled Cold. Not being completely void of mental facilities, he twisted the cold one, watching the water run out. He put his hand under it, smiling. Ah, yes, that was good... But it could be better.

He twisted the one labeled Hot a proper 360 degrees, with a wide smile that would probably look more at place on a child's face rather than a large brutish amphibian. He looked inside the tub, finally noting the drain. He glanced around, finding the plug and plunging inside. He chuckled to himself proudly as the water began to fill.

“I do believe that I will need some thing... Else for this.” he said to himself, getting to his feet. He traveled through the small apartment that was gifted to him, arriving and opening the small fridge. In all his time here, he had discovered some thing that almost made up for the horror and misery that came with being kidnapped: He discovered beer. A large, pointy-tooth grin spread across his face as he took the few cans he had, carrying them to the bathroom as he undid his belt, letting his pants land on the floor with a dull “thud”. He puts the cans down next to his tub, taking off his shirt and throwing them across the bath tub, before finally removing his boxers and climbing into the tub. His eyes widened before he felt his whole body relax as he sunk into the tub.

“This is.... Euphoric...” he said to himself, turning off the water and letting himself enjoy one quiet, enjoyable night.


[personal profile] sharktoothglare - 2012-03-06 20:14 (UTC) - Expand
mystoryidontshare: (Default)

[Canon] Lois Lane || Smallville || No Reserve

[personal profile] mystoryidontshare 2012-02-27 09:03 pm (UTC)(link)
Name: Mandi
Personal Journal: [personal profile] thedarknesswithin
AIM: DmnsAngl

Name: Lois Lane
Canon: Smallville
Timeline: Post Season 10

Personality: Lois Lane is a very persistent person. Someone who doesn't like hearing the word 'no' and won't take it for an answer. Everyone that knows her would say that she is head strong. Someone who has a stubborn streak a mile wide. When in situations she often uses her sarcasm and random unknown (or known) references to get to whatever point she is trying to make. If anything else she is brave. Though that might stem from the fact that she's a General's daughter and was moved around from army base to army base as a young child.

Though preferring life over death she will risk her own life in a dire situation to the point of needing to defend herself physically or verbally. And even though those situations can and would be scary she doesn't show the person she's addressing fear. That in itself is shown in her sarcasm.

When it comes to friends and family she is VERY protective (Because of this she is close to her cousin, Chloe). Someone they can turn to if and when they need help. An example of that would be Clark Kent or "Smallville" as she's so dubbed him. His friendship is one that she values not that she'd admit willingly. It'd be done with a reluctance that could only be classified as Lois Lane.

There is a side of her that no one truly sees. The side that has insecurity issues. A side that seeks approval from her father who is a General in the army. She won't hesitate to say how much of a screw-up she is and will tell you if she's made a situation worse than what it already is. Another downfall is she talks before her brain can process what is being said and stop her. So because of this she seems to be rather insensitive though in truth she's far from it.

First Person: [The last thing she remembered was being with Smallville. They'd been working out on the farm. Something that they had no intentions of giving up. Not after everything they'd found out. This wasn't it though. It wasn't...

What it was; was moving. This was as bad as the Legion ring but... that hadn't brought her onto a perfectly capable train. Standing she moves up to the front only to hold onto one of the poles when it comes to an abrupt stop. She hadn't noticed the watch or anything else just yet... not when there was a vast land to admire. It was beautiful even if she didn't know what this was or how she'd come to be there.]

This isn't Kansas and I don't know how I got here... Come on Lane, how did you manage this one?

[Shaking her head not expecting an answer she steps off the train and heads toward the nearest city she can find. She needed to find answers. Maybe she'd find out how she got there and then get back to Clark. Or maybe he'd find her. She was good with either result. For now though she just wanted answers.]

Find something here and try to contact Smallville.

Third Person: Coming into the Kent home she hadn’t bothered knocking. Why should she? It wasn’t like there were any secrets there that needed to be kept. On top of that she was hungry and waiting for Smallville to get his ass moving. Something that seemed to be taking forever in her opinion. But that was a typical male for you. Take longer than a woman when getting ready for an event.

“Move it, Smallville! We need to get going.”

That didn’t seem to get a response which made the young reporter scowl. It wasn’t that he hadn’t come straight down, it was the fact that he hadn’t answered her. And what kind of friend did that? Grabbing a donut off the counter she moved towards the steps heading up them and towards the bathroom where she’d last left the farm boy. Without bothering to knock, yet again, she walks into the bathroom catching an eyeful of one of Smallville’s finest. Eyes widening a bit she slams the door firmly shut and can’t help but smile. After all, it wasn’t every day she got to see some nice assets like that

“Let’s go. You’re making us late. And you know how I hate to be late.”

Once back downstairs she sits down waiting, tapping her finger on the table. “There he is.” She says giving a knowing grin and watching the blush creep up his cheeks. “Now can we go or what?” Without waiting for an answer she turns heading towards the door leaving him to follow.


[personal profile] mystoryidontshare - 2012-03-05 05:27 (UTC) - Expand
allamericanreject: (Default)

{ [CANON] Alfred F. Jones || Axis Powers Hetalia || Reserve || 1 of 2 }

[personal profile] allamericanreject 2012-03-01 07:22 pm (UTC)(link)
Name: Kitten (for the sake of privacy)
Personal Journal: hollowrussian

Name: Alfred F. Jones // United States of America
Canon: Axis Powers Hetalia
Timeline: Present day onwards
If playing another character from the same canon, how will you deal with this? n/a

Personality: Alfred F. Jones is one of the younger nations, representative of the United States of America. He is young and boisterous, prone to overexcitement and giving enthusiastic reactions. To most of his fellow nations, he comes across as a bit of -a dimwit who can’t sense the mood in a room, and he’s content to let them think that for the most part, since insults to his person tend to either roll off his back, or become easily forgiven—or at least forgotten—within a day to a week’s time. Alfred is a sweet individual and really only means well by his actions. Unfortunately…he’s also extremely nosy and tends to put himself in other’s business, thinking himself to be an awesome mediator. While at times he can be, this is not generally the case and just gets on the nerves of most other nations.
In truth, Alfred is smarter than he appears, he just doesn’t display it because he sees no point. As well, he has a very laid back, almost lazy disposition that effectively saps his effort out of things he doesn’t want to do. Perhaps this can be attributed to his relatively young age, but Alfred, like his people, is a true child at heart who doesn’t like to take things seriously, again why he doesn’t see a need to read the atmosphere. He’d rather play videogames, read comics, watch movies, and eat fast food.

Speaking of fast food, he’s fond of all sorts! McDonald’s is his true favorite, but he loves anything, from Burger King to Wendy’s. He has a bad habit of overeating, which gives him awful stomachaches on the worst days, but it’s just a part of his nature. Alfred is part of a consumer nation, and it shows. He loves using up electricity, he overeats, he drinks recreationally—he’s not an alcoholic of course, he just likes the buzz sometimes, and Jack Daniels is his favorite—and he has been known to use recreational drugs every once in a while.

Most importantly, perhaps, is Alfred’s hero complex. He will always be the hero. Always and forever. Therefore he’s very dedicated and protective of his friends, and usually bends over backwards to make things work for them. This sometimes mistranslates into him putting his nose in where it doesn’t belong, and rightly so; sometimes he has no business interfering. He personally has mellowed back on things since September 11th, 2001, and his government doesn’t always do what he’d like them to. On that note…he has an office job, but usually works from home. On the rare occasion, he’ll travel to the Pentagon.

Alfred has the rather unfortunate trait of being slightly squeamish. This is somewhat selective. He won’t be grossed out by something like seeing a cut, or even a bullet wound or a severe laceration. However, he would, for example, be disgusted at the sight of someone being ill, or extreme gore, not the least of which would be seeing someone’s still-beating heart fall out of their chest—Russia—or something to do with eyes. They’re…so fluid. It squicks him out. This leads to a silly quirk. He’s afraid of Marmite. More specifically, he’s developed an intolerant nature to it. He can’t eat it, the texture and flavor nauseates him. Why? As a child, he ate some when he wasn’t feeling well and became sick. Pretty self-explanatory.

Another fear of his is thunderstorms. He hates them almost as much as he hates scary movies, and he is completely unable to sleep through a storm or after a horror flick. He will have nightmares.
allamericanreject: (Default)

Re: { [CANON] Alfred F. Jones || Axis Powers Hetalia || Reserve || 2 of 2 }

[personal profile] allamericanreject 2012-03-01 07:24 pm (UTC)(link)
First Person: [He isn’t the sort to immediately panic, so when the American wakes up, he does not immediately react too badly. Being a little slow to the uptake, he looks around curiously, trying to find out where he was. It settles in that he’s not home, and he starts to look annoyed, checking himself out for any injuries, touching his head all around and looking up his arms for any marks. Instead, he finds some sort of watch on his wrist, and after some fiddling, eventually loses interest. There is no time being displayed upon it, so no point in playing around. On the other hand, he has unwittingly activated a function he likely has no intention of utilizing, broadcasting his voice and whatever video one can see through the thing, while his arm is hanging down]

Alright guys, really funny. Where’s the cameras? I don’t got time for this, there’s work for the hero to do!

[Alfred says this with no little amount of the usual enthusiasm, a wide grin on his face even though he was nervous about where he was. Clearly it had to be another nation playing tricks on him, or else he must have accidentally signed up for some television show. He was not sure which show would really have the legal right to, for all intents and purposes, kidnap him. But he would get to get to the bottom of it eventually. Sooner better than later.]

Third Person: Being the leader of the meeting was a tough job, but Alfred figured that someone had to do it. On occasion though, the mixture of personalities clashing with each other in the confines of their meeting room was just…way too much. The other older nations were always arguing with each other, and well…he had to agree with Germany on one thing. He was sick of all this arguing. Nothing was accomplished. Even the ideas he gave which didn’t concern frivolous heroic figures were well-ignored for England and France arguing with one another, the Asians passive-aggressively regarding each other, Italy doing something pasta-related and likely irrelevant…the list went on.

He couldn’t help but be annoyed and sick of it. Thankfully, so long as he took it easy later, it was easy to deal with them. And besides, he got back in his own way. Whenever Arthur would make fun of him for something he tried to say, something relevant…well the next time it came around, he’d say something really stupid and give the man a reason to scorn him. It was fun to rile England up, sometimes the arguments weren’t all that bad. He could almost see why Francis got a kick out of it.

A small part of him nagged and reminded him that paying such attention to Arthur meant something, and that if he was smart, he’d let it go. It told him that he wasn’t going to get anything from pissing off the former British Empire that he tore himself from, and that it wasn’t fair to either of them anyway.

The American had to wonder why? Was it really so bad to be closer? They’d been close before, a stupid Revolution from centuries past…could be forgotten. Except he knew Arthur would never forget. He’d never let it go. And as he headed to his temporary hotel home, he was only proven all the more right, as his path was crossed by an irate, thick-accented, and obviously drunken Brit.

A sigh left his lips. This wasn’t the first time this had happened. And it wouldn’t be the last. That was alright, he didn’t mind. It was an excuse, he supposed, to take care of the one who had taken care of him for so long.

My Revision

[personal profile] allamericanreject - 2012-03-05 05:33 (UTC) - Expand
tapdancememory: Nico's portrait (Default)

[CANON] Nico| Tap Trap Love| Reserve| 1 of 2]

[personal profile] tapdancememory 2012-03-02 10:32 pm (UTC)(link)
Name: Misa
Personal Journal: [personal profile] blackcat
AIM/MSN/etc: alwaysinthewired

Name: Nico
Canon: Tap Trap Love
Timeline: At the end of the first drama CD. She's joined the dance group Euphoria and has begun to learn to dance.

If playing another character from the same canon, how will you deal with this?: N/A

Nico is a well adjusted 18 year old. Despite growing up in post World War 3 Japan, she doesn't seem to focus on whatever hardships exist. She has a job at a hot dog stand (Red Dogs) and enjoys her job with her co-worker, Lee. In the city, she lives with Dr. Ginger, an illegal surgeon who's working on figuring out why she's suffering amnesia.

She also seems to be eager to learn, seeking out members of the dance group Euphoria after seeing them dance in public. After introducing herself as someone who wanted to learn, she began taking tap lessons. She wanted to learn tap because of how the dancing looked, and because she hoped that by learning to dance and express herself through it, she'll remember things.

For all of her good qualities, Nico also demonstrates an option of ignoring advice. While in CITY (the district where the drama CD is set), she's given advice to stay away from the wall (a large wall covering the parameter of the city. It's seen as unsafe, especially going alone) but ignores that in favor of going anyway. There she's nearly attacked by a small group of punks, but is rescued before anything can happen. She would ignore the same advice in Ruby City, but she also is able to learn from her mistakes. She didn't insist that she was fine while visiting the wall, instead thanking the person who helped her.

She also shows an ability to cope with circumstances. She communicates via her cell phone's text message function, or through writing, if that's unavaliable.


[personal profile] tapdancememory - 2012-03-05 04:04 (UTC) - Expand
tapdancememory: A picture of Nico's cellphone (Cell phone//Communicate)

[CANON] Nico| Tap Trap Love| Reserve| 2 of 2]

[personal profile] tapdancememory 2012-03-02 10:34 pm (UTC)(link)
First Person: [There’s a moment’s pause on the watch, Nico blinking at it as she hits a few buttons. Switching to the text option, but still on video, she types, fingers flying.] “Hello? This isn’t CITY.. Ruby City? No. This isn’t CITY at all. I’ve read the posters so I guess I don’t have a *lot* of questions, but-

..Dr. Ginger’s going to wonder where I’m at. So will Euphoria..

Are you sure there’s no way to go back home?”

Third Person: Nico had woken up on the train. Confused, as she had last said good night to Dr. Ginger before finishing her dinner and going to bed, she looked around at the passing scenery. Reaching into her pocket for her cell phone, she pulled it out and blinked as it reported no service and a full battery. After she opened the phone and checked the text messages, she looked up as the train slowed to a stop at a station.

Closing the phone and putting it back into her pocket, Nico stood and exited, looking around at the station. Reaching for her phone again, her other hand brushed against her opposite pocket. Nico’s hand jumped before she reached into the pocket and pulled out the foreign item- a bronze pocket watch.


Letting it dangle by the chain, she turned it over a few times to check for a serial number. She slipped her phone back into her pocket and opened the watch, staring at the top screen and the bottom panel. Pressing a button as the watch turned on, Nico looked up from it and to one of the posters. Reading it, she blinked. Her attention was pulled back to the watch as a few conversation snippetts came from it. Hitting a few more buttons and blinking as she appeared on the screen, there was a pause as a cursor appeared on the lower area. Moving away from the train platform, she began to type out a message to whoever might be reading, unaware that she was also video broadcasting.
mister_torero: (Default)

{ Spain || Axis Powers Hetalia || no reserve || 1 of 3 }

[personal profile] mister_torero 2012-03-03 11:39 am (UTC)(link)
Name: Alyssa
Personal Journal: [personal profile] emo_viking_jil
AIM/MSN/etc: andalltheworlds @ AIM and at plurk

Name: Spain | Antonio Fernandez Carriedo
Canon: Axis Powers Hetalia
Timeline: Present day from this point on
If playing another character from the same canon, how will you deal with this?: N/A


In the character introductions, Spain is introduced as “the country of passion” and this is very much true. He’s big hearted, impulsive, and more than often found wandering about charming people with his incredibly boyish charisma despite his long years of life. He’s one of those bright, cheerful extroverts that people naturally gravitate to, and he’s incredibly skilled at reading one’s heart and troubles despite his inability to figure out their thoughts. In fact, he’s rather bone headed and things go over his head more often than not.

Because of said bone headedness Spain is quite frequently shown as not being able to read the atmosphere. This, in turn, feeds into the assumption that he is rather clueless and insensitive. While he can be blunt, Spain is very empathetic and easily sympathizes with people. He holds affection high in his regards, and thinks of himself as a role model or even hero to those younger than him. This is more often than not ignored but he doesn’t mind, insisting that he be called “Boss Spain” and becoming impossibly gleeful when someone does so. This feeds into his desire to be well respected and in control as he was back in his empire days, but he is also quite fine with being free and able to live life to the fullest.
mister_torero: (Default)

{ Spain || Axis Powers Hetalia || no reserve || 2 of 3 }

[personal profile] mister_torero 2012-03-03 11:39 am (UTC)(link)
Historically speaking, Spain has lived through everything the world could throw at him. He’s gone through hardships like every other country and knows the pinch of famine and weakness of war as intimately as one knows a lover. Likewise, he’s gone through enlightenment and the thrill of adventure, taking to it like a duck to water. He boasts the ability to spring back from hardships with a cheerful smile and continue on like nothing is wrong.

Because of this ability, and also hardships he’s endured, Spain is fully aware that cruelty exists in the world despite his often naïve outlook. With this in mind, it’s easy to see why he holds justice, honesty and honor itself to be in high regards. He has a very clean cut sense of equivalent exchange, and firmly believes in it. With his sense of justice being so high, it is unsurprising that he will willingly draw his weapons and try to avenge those who have been wronged. This is an especially strong notion when it comes to his current and former colonies, who he will throw himself into chaos with no regards for himself. This disregard for his wellbeing ties into his impulsive nature. More often than not, Spain will throw caution to the wind, and jump headfirst into tricky situations with not a care in the world.
Empathy leads him; he is incapable of making decisions that are unbiased and detached from his emotions. Luckily, he is resilient, and his courage serves him well. As courageous as Spain is, there is also a heavy dose of faith behind his actions. He firmly believes, and has long learned that standing firm in the face of devastation even if there is little hope will always be the best decision. He will not bow, and will fight till he is beaten and battered.

This is not only his passion speaking, but his pride. Because although Spain is rather laidback, he is just as proud as other countries are. In fact, this pride leads to him being reluctant to admit to follies and other mishaps. He would much rather don his carefree, cheerful visage and hide away mistakes he’s made. While Spain is not truly a deceptive nation-man, this mask can make it hard to glimpse his true feelings. Not to say that his enthusiasm is faked, as Spain truly enjoys flattering friends and allies, and other people’s happiness furthers his own.

Spain is both a country, and a man of extremes. His feelings are never quite neutral or passive; he throws his all into things one way or the other, somehow managing to be something quite akin to polar opposites at the same time. If ever Spain was to let himself be engrossed with his thoughts, then it is quite likely that he will physically react to such things- shaking with rage over some perceived injustice, laughing and bouncing on the balls of his feet at the very thought of some potential entertainment.

Himaruya once mentioned that Spain had a bit of a “double-identity” going on. When one thinks about his quiet ambitions, and centuries of secrecy as he attempted to maintain his general cheerful lighthearted disposition it is obvious how this two-faced nature could come about. To those nations who have never done battle with Spain, they have never seen this slip of his mask. To those that have- well, passion can sometimes lead to fanatical actions, and Spain has certainly been there and done that.
landoftherisingsun: (Default)

{ Japan || Axis Powers Hetalia || No Reserve || 1 of 2 }

[personal profile] landoftherisingsun 2012-03-03 07:24 pm (UTC)(link)

Name: Gaa
Personal Journal: berwaldox {LiveJournal}

Name: Kiku Honda // Japan, Land of the Rising Sun
Canon: Axis Powers Hetalia
Timeline: Present Day
If playing another character from the same canon, how will you deal with this?: N/A

The first thing anyone should know about Kiku is that he's a little bit of a shut-in. He doesn't know much about the world, and is very wary, and oftentimes confused by new things. However, he is a very curious man, so he is always willing to learn.
He lived in something close to Isolation for close on three centuries, and as a result, he has a very shut-in, awkward personality. He tends to live with the behavior of an old man, finding enjoyment in simple and boring daily tasks like cleaning, cooking, and grocery shopping.
He is a very good cook, and is rather proud of his many distinct, as well as popular dishes such as Nikujaga and Sushi.

Kiku's Country has a number of odd festivals, Ways of Life as Well as Traditions that confuse many newcomers to his home. Traditions and customs Like the Fall Leaf Viewing Festival, Open-House Baths, Sitting in a 'Proper' way, and eating things like Natto.

Honda is very interested in other cultures. He has been a hermit for many, many years, and Is only now getting used to the world as a whole. Any and all of his friends who he has managed to make around the world, he has become very Interested in the things they do on a daily basis, and, has a habit of adopting many cultures into his own. Western Ideals Fascinate him, and he honestly can't get enough of it. Especially from places like England and America.

One Part of Honda's Life that he keeps quiet is that he is, in fact, a nerd. America, Prussia, and Yong Soo being among the few who know of his Love for videogames and Online MMORPGs, as well as regular roleplaying games and card games. He Adores Pokemon, and Keeps a small Eevee Plush in his bed.
He Plays Games like World of Warcraft, Dance Dance Revolution, and even Owns a DS, to which he plays a number of games like Phoenix Wright and Elite Beat Agents. He's the least likely to boast about his skills, however, and is honestly very modest about how well he can play these games. But, when it comes down to it, he is very proud of his skill, and hates to lose. So he often practices for hours to perfect his ability at a certain game to assure that he'll never lose.

He has been through many things in his life. He is in no way a young country, and he is not Naive, either. He knows how to sense the mood in a room, and catches onto situations very quickly. Again, he would not boast about it, but he has quite a high IQ, and is very talented when it comes to learning things. Math, Languages, Science, you name it. He Hardly forgets anything, and because of this, He is very well known to hold a grudge.

He can be somewhat manipulative when he needs to be, but prefers to use means that are less dark and frowned upon when getting what he wants, or even needs. In the past, he was known to be quite the cruel and cold being, Especially during WW2 when he was part of the Axis Powers. This part of his life, however, He tends to avoid. As it was one of the darkest parts of his life that he would prefer to just forget.
landoftherisingsun: (Default)

{ Japan || Axis Powers Hetalia || No Reserve || 2 of 2 }

[personal profile] landoftherisingsun 2012-03-03 07:25 pm (UTC)(link)
First Person:
[Chocolate brown eyes stare, for what seemed like an eternity, into nothing. Forever-stretching blackness, that reminded the small male of the sensation, as well as the sight, of squeezing your eyes shut. Slightly blurred stars on the edge of your vision, prickling against your eyelids until you’re forced to open them. He blinked, his eyes flickering a bit as he felt... at least a little bit disoriented. Confused. Last he remembered, he was sleeping in his own bed, on the floor of his old, but well-kept home. A small dog, Shiba-inu in species, pressed up against his back as he slept. That warmth was gone, and he was sleeping on something else—sitting. He was... sitting. In a seat, in his comfortable day-wear as opposed to his pyjamas.]
...I appear to have awoken to a very strange dream.
[He spoke, unusually calm about the somewhat startling situation.]
That, or perhaps someone is playing a very cruel trick on me.
[He Frowned, looking out the window. The sight confused him, as it looked nothing like his comfortable home in Japan. It was all too flat, and much too... vast. Even in his own home... there were always other buildings in sight. After all, his land was very evolved. There were not many places near Tokyo like this.]
I will certainly be making a complaint to whomever is in control of this machine. I cannot afford to be away from home. I have too many things to take care of.
[He Frowned, fretting quietly to himself as he moved to stand. To find exactly who was in charge, and how he got here.

Third Person: It definitely wasn't one of those days that Honda enjoyed remembering. If anything, he would likely prefer to put days like this behind him. Forget they had ever happened, and move along with his seemingly never-ending life. So was the curse of a living representation of such a large nation, he would suppose. More than once, he had cursed the fact that he would never die. Especially on days like this.
The ground underneath his feet felt gritty. Tossed and churned by the footfalls of many a soldier passing over its soil. The air around him smelled like smoke. And not a nice, smoky fire, or the leftover scent from fireworks. No. It was the smell of gunpowder and shrapnel. Burnt earth and cloth. The smell that Honda would, honestly, compare to that of death.

In one hand was his old Sword. Likely a strange thing to use on the Battlefield, but certainly not misused. What he couldn't shoot at such a close range, the steel of his blade had dispatched just as easily. But right now, the stained steel was going ignored. His Right hand lifted up at about eyelevel. A Type 26 Revolver Held, its barrel pointed at an Enemy that he had told himself. Many times. That he couldn't hesitate to shoot. Hesitation meant he was holding back. Holding back showed weakness. He couldn’t hold back. His life... and the lives of his people depended on that. Yet...

He was hesitating. And he hated himself for it.

In his sights was Yao. The Chinese man who, he would never quite admit whom he'd admired for nearly his entire life. This man meant so much to him. But right now. They were on opposite sides. He gritted his teeth, his cheek stinging a little. A Slight cut on his right cheek, a grazed bullet wound, dripping red down the pale skin of the short male's cheek. He opened his mouth, words not quite making it off his lips. What could he say? There was nothing... that would make this better. Words wouldn't win a war. "...I Hate this." the Japanese man said, his finger tense on his gun. Finger DARING to squeeze the trigger, but not enough to fire it at the long-haired Chinaman. "All of this. And who Do I Have to Blame. You? Roshia? I am not even sure anymore. Tell me. Who do I blame, Yao." His voice was quiet, but there was no quiver to it. No. He was standing strong. But it didn't mean that he didn't feel just a little bit lost.

My Revision

[personal profile] landoftherisingsun - 2012-03-09 01:22 (UTC) - Expand