Ruby City Mods (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rubycitymods) wrote2012-01-13 01:45 pm
rubycitymods) wrote2012-01-13 01:45 pm
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APPLICATIONS
✗ 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
✗ Canon OC Application
✗ OC Application
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.
Nyte Thompson --OC--No Reserve--1 of ?
Name: Laet'li
Age: 23
Personal Journal:
E-mail: laetli.west@yahoo.com
AIM/MSN/etc: http://www.plurk.com/laetgraet
CHARACTER
Name: Nyte Thompson
Age: 16, although due to a childhood spent moving from one European country to another she displays a much more mature attitude, and is constantly thought to be in her early to mid twenties.
Appearance: Nyte stands just at five feet and five inches, but you would never know that unless she told you. Survey responses usually range between five feet and eight inches all the way up to six feet even, her demeanor and posturing adding several percieved inches to her naturally small stature. Her exact weight is unknown, and to call her "fat" would only be correct in the way that "fat" is the opposite of "thin" which is not a word Nyte would use to describe herself. A more accurate way to describe Nyte is as one who is quite blessed in the areas of chest and hindquarters, with a subtle protrusion of the belly, and strong arms and thighs. Long flows of very curly red hair float to around her lower back. She tends to keep it down and loose because even though she might not admit it, she takes enormous joy in the moments where the wind catches it and blows it behind and around her. Typically dressed in flattering jeans and whatever available shirt she decided to throw on under her trademark black hoodie, Nyte is quite obviously a creature of comfort. Due to an allergy to virtually all metal, she wears very little jewelry. The only exceptions being the seven surgical steel rings spaced evenly apart in either ear, and a stone heart pendant she ties around her neck with a long piece of black cord.
When Nyte speaks, her familial ties to England are quite evident. It's not that she uses an English dialect, per se, but rather that traditional English pronounciations permeate her non-regional American accent. This combined with her excellent posture and exquisite manners causes many to assume she is secretly the wild, rebellious daughter of some wealthy waspish family in the Northeastern part of the US, who has come to slum it with the less refined members of the Southern populace.
Re: Nyte Thompson --OC--No Reserve--2 of ?
Personality: You know that friend you have who grew up in what sound like the absolute greatest circumstances in the world? The friend whose parents are sooo much cooler than your parents. The friend who got to travel a lot, and see all of the places you see on TV and think to yourself “god, I want to go there.” The friend who has had pets their entire lives, and not just dogs or cats, but lizards, birds, frogs, and even a monkey for a brief time. The friend who has been a smoker since the age of 12, but looks so fucking cool with a cigarette between their lips that you forget they are only 16. The friend who learned to fight in Parisian bar brawls, and now sports an awesome 6 inch scar on their left arm from a broken bottle. The friend who casually throws large and impressive foreign words into everyday conversations that already include large and impressive English words. The friend you refuse to play Trivial Pursuit with, because she knows everything...about everything. The friend with the filthy mouth and pristine manners. The friend who just “ain’t cottonin’ to your shitty attitude, buddy.” The friend who is quick to get fired up, but even quicker to cool down. The friend who loves to talk just as much as she loves to listen. The friend who never fails to slap your fresh tattoo, on purpose, because it’s funny, and you know it. The friend who often stands on one leg while thinking, or cooking, or smoking, or, well...just because. The friend that comes to your house, steals your blanket and takes a nap. The friend who will be there for you any time and anywhere, and won’t ask single goddamned question when she gets there...unless you want her to. The friend who reads for fun, but not just everday books, but huge imposing texts on the histories of ancient peoples, places, and times. The friend who you catch idly doodling machine parts on napkins after a couple of glasses of wine, giggling because she just realized that the driveshaft “totally looks like a penis!” The friend who will cover your eyes while driving, knowing full well that you won’t lose control, even if you aren’t so sure yourself. The friend who will wake you up at two in the morning, throw a duffel bag at you, and drive you to the beach. The friend whose life you envy more than anything in the world, but who never, ever makes you feel like your life has been any less. The friend who is smart, caring, resourceful, funny, hot-tempered, hungry, cocky, polite, flexible, lively, mature(ish), musical, artistic, clever, sarcastic, frugle, vulgar, supportive, protective, loyal, agile, spontaneous, patient, cautious, nautical, charitable, and wild. Do you know which friend I am talking about? If you don’t, then you just haven’t met Nyte yet.
Re: Nyte Thompson --OC--No Reserve--3 of ?
History: Amelia March Thompson was born in Cambridge, just after midnight on March 6, 1997. As her siblings continued to be born during the daytime, she was quickly awarded the nickname of “Nyte.”
Between the ages of 1 and 12 she spent half of every year living in Cambridge where her father was a professor, and the other half of the year in Cyprus, which her parents used as a midpoint for their research in Egypt and Greece. During this time her Maternal grandfather, Zerro acted as a tutor to Nyte and her siblings. Through him she earned a more than sufficient education in math, science, literature, history, and foreign language principles.
At age seven, Zerro asked her--as he had with both of her elder brothers, and would do with the ones who came after her-- what secondary language she wanted to learn. To his surprise, she responded that she wanted to learn both French and Italian. After some hesitation and Nyte’s continual insistence that she would commit to both, he acquiesced. Within the next five years, she did indeed manage to become fluent in both of her selected languages, as well as learning a fair amount of conversational Greek and German.
The Cyprus Years--as they would later become called by the family--were tough on Nyte and her siblings. The severe shortage of water in the area, combined with the hostile attitudes of the Turkish countrymen made it a less than desirable place to raise English children, so when Nyte was twelve, her grandfather made the decision to try and make things more comfortable for his beloved grandchildren. He convinced her parents that he was growing too old and tired to educate the children at the appropriate level, and suggested that they be sent to boarding school. Her parents agreed, and arrangements were made for the children to attend schools appropriate to their education. Nyte’s older brothers ended up in Scotland, her younger sister and second youngest brother in Germany, and her youngest in Cambridge with their Grandfather for another few years. Nyte however, chose Marseille, France.
Prior to her time there, she had always held such romantic notions of life in France. She thought often of bike rides through fragrant fields, fresh coffee on cafe patios, and warm crepes, shared with friends. Her actual experience there was much less pleasant. Her grasp of the language did nothing but allow her to more fully understand the hate behind the horrid things said to her by her classmates. Her roommate was cruel, her teachers were willfully ignorant, and her parents just kept insisting she try harder to fit in.
By age 14, she had grown so miserable that she was regularly running away to Paris on the weekends, to drink and party with people twice her age. Her grades began to slip, and her parents confronted her with the idea that maybe she just wasn’t cut out for such an intense educational environment. Not one to be told she cannot accomplish something, Nyte stood firm. She stayed on another two years, and managed in fact to graduate early, the summer after she turned sixteen.
With her degree in hand, and no strong friendships to keep her there, Nyte decided to visit America. She had seen the hometowns of every of her mother’s family, but had not once set foot in the birthplace of her father. She booked a flight to Tennessee, and readied herself to fly. This flight is the last memory she has. “So there I was, drunk, on a plane, reeking of cat’s piss, clutching a rosary, and about to die.”
Re: Nyte Thompson --OC--No Reserve--4 of ?
Strengths: Nyte is relatively strong physically, though not superhumanly so. She also possesses an incredible knowledge of all things mechanical and has a deep love for the care and maintenance of automobiles.
Weaknesses: Nyte has no special physical or mental weaknesses...except for spiders, to which she responds with the same phasic reaction every time. Freezes, screams, vomits, and faints.
Abilities: Nyte can snap her fingers and instantly be wearing any hat that has ever been created, roar the most precise T-rex roar that you have ever heard, breathe underwater, but only for seventeen and a half minutes, and once she succesfully burped the entirety of Debussy's Clair de Lune, and while none of these are actually true, she claims that she can and will do these when the time calls for it.
In all actuallity though, she can speak three languages fluently, and two more conversationally; she can fix just about any car you put in front of her; she can climb trees with bizarre efficiency; and has trained more than one animal to do more than ordinary tasks.
First Person:
[Nyte groans, her eyes stll closed, as consciousness begins to retake her. She shifts in her seat and finally opens her eyes. She looks around at the train, and her eyes grow wide. She sits up suddenly, her eyes wide and her mouth agape.]
Wh...Where the fuck am I?
[The last thing she remembers was being on a plane traveling from France to America. That’s right, there had been turbulence. She had been trying to find a cigare...]
My cigarettes!
[She looks down and begins to pat around at her hoodie. She then looks to her left, and there in the seat beside is her suitcase, and right on top, her cigarettes and lighter. She slumps back into the sit and stares dead ahead.]
What the hell is going on?
Third Person:
The taxi slammed to a stop in front of the terminal, and the driver barely had time to tell her the fare before Nyte was throwing a pair of twenty dollar bills into the passenger seat and slamming the door behind her. Her roommate had blown a fuse the night before, and without a timely alarm, she was late, and at a very real risk of missing her flight. She barreled past other travelers, spinning one direction and then another on her way to the check in desk.
“Nom de réservation et d'identification, s'il vous plaît?” Nyte pulled out her passport and handed it to the tall blonde woman behind the desk.
“Amelia Thompson.” The woman smiled and responded in English this time.
“And where are we traveling today, Ms Thompson?”
“America. Nashville, to be precise. I am done with France for a while.” Nyte sighed. For all she knew, she was done with France forever, and she wasn’t even sure she was upset about it. The clerk smiled again and entered a few strokes on her keyboard. Her smile disappeared.
“Mademoiselle, I am afraid there is a, uhm, small problem with your travel ajourd’hui.”
“What kind of problem?” Nyte looked at her watch, “Because the flight is supposed to leave in twenty minutes, and I still have security to go through.”
“Je ne sais pas pourquoi, but your seat has been given away.” Nyte stared blankly at the clerk, unsure of how to respond.
”...so...what do I do now?” The clerk paused for a moment, thinking, and then tapped on her keyboard once more. As Nyte began to feel the hot embrace of panic gripping her chest, the clerk smiled again and looked up.
“Voila! Ms Thompson, I have found you a new seat in first class. I am sorry again for the brief inconvenience, but I hope you enjoy your flight. Avoir du plaisir en Amérique!” She handed Nyte her ticket and boarding pass and called to the next customer.
Seventeen minutes later, Nyte stood still in front of the airplane door taking deep breaths and trying to calm her nerves. She detested travel by plane, and not even this recent bump into fancy schmancy first class land was easing her anxiety. The man behind her coughed and embarassed, she took the step from the walkway into the plane. She quicly found her seat, a giant of blue leather, and stowed her bag in the overhead bin.
When the plane had filled and taken off, and the fasten seatbelt sign had been de-illuminated, the stewardesses began to come around offering complimentary snacks and beverages. When they arrived at Nyte’s seat, she was overjoyed to be offered a glass of champagne and quickly said yes. Over the course of the next four hours, she said yes and additional seven times, and by hour five was quite drunk.
Just as dinner service was being started, Nyte grew cold. She pulled her bag down from the overhead and opened it to retrieve her sweater. As she was pullling out the large warm black hoodie, an all too familiar smell assaulted her senses. Cat piss.
“Goddamnit, Pearl.” She cursed under her breath. Standing at her seat, urine soaked hoodie in hand, Nyte began in internal debate about whether or not to put it away or wear it. On the one hand, gross. Also rude. I am in first fucking class, I can’t willingly subject these people to the smell of cat piss...but...it is cold. And I am drunk...fuck it. They’re probably all assholes.
Nyte sat back down, her hoodie warming her instantly.
Just then, the plane shook violently. It only lasted a moment, but everyone on board could tell it was no ordinary turbulence. The fasten seatbelt sign came on with a ding, and the captain asked the stewardesses to return to their seats. The plane shook again, more violently than before, but lasting just as long. The plane fell silent as everyone waited for another tremor. Several minutes later, it came again, only this time it didn’t stop. The shaking grew rougher and rougher and the lights began to flicker.
Nyte was a wreck of shattered nerves, and when people started to scream she just couldn’t control herself any longer. She shoved her hand in her hoodie pocket searching for a cigarette. She felt around, but all she could find was a rosary she had picked up in a local flea market the day before. She held it tightly as she undid her seatbelt and retrieved her overhead bag once more. She unzipped the outer pocket and began to search for her cigarettes. If she was about to die on this plane, she was doing it with smoke in her lungs.
Nyte finally found her cigarettes at the bottom of the suitcase pocket, but before she had a chance to light up, the shaking worsened, the screams grew louder as more and more passengers joined in, and a box fell out of the still open overhead bin, bounced off of the chair in front of her, and hit Nyte square in the head. Her grip on the rosary loosened, and Nyte slowly lost consciousness.
REVISION REQUESTED
At this time we are requesting a revision, specifically of the level of detail given in the personality section. We would like to see more detail of your character's flaws, and more internal characteristics such as her personal hopes and fears, and how the events of her life have affected the way that her personality has developed and her interactions with other people.
Overall, we would like to see an application that is more in keeping with the standards of Ruby City (feel free to read other OC apps for examples), and a more relatable, rounded character shown in the personality section.
Feel free to submit your revision anytime before the next app cycle. Otherwise, we will consider the application dropped. Thank you, and let us know if there's anything we can help you with!
Re: REVISION REQUESTED
Not a problem. I was honestly expecting there to be issues with exactly the things you mentioned. It was just a case of me trying to be far more creative than the situation required. I am revising as we speak, and unforeseen circumstances aside, the revised app should be in by this evening.
Thank you for your notes and patience.
Laet'li.
Re: Revised Appearance, History, and Personality
When Nyte speaks, her familial ties to England are quite evident. It's not that she uses an English dialect, per se, but rather that traditional English pronunciations permeate her non-regional American accent. This combined with her excellent posture and exquisite manners causes many to assume she is secretly the wild, rebellious daughter of some wealthy waspish family in the Northeastern part of the US, who has come to slum it with the less refined members of the Southern populace.
Personality:
Nyte's personality has been directly derived from a childhood for which she holds no great affection. She feels that her parents placed a high importance on their careers, and even though they have spent years trying to convince their children that the experiences they have gained will help them as adults, Nyte is fairly certain that the ones they are actually trying to convince are themselves. She doesn't share a particularly close relationship with her parents or her siblings, but her grandfather is incredibly important to her. He taught her that learning, whether from others or yourself, is the most important thing you can do in this life. Nyte latched on to this idea, and has spent her life learning as much as she possibly can.
Through learning, Nyte discovered that in books, the people are exactly what they have been written to be, and no one ever really disappoints you. Nyte reads constantly now, as a means to escape the bitter reality she views her life to have been. She places a heavy importance on the ability to trust people, and even though she herself is quite trustworthy, the events of her life have made trusting others incredibly hard to do.
When Nyte does manage to develop friendships, she holds them very dear and to her, romantic relationships have never been anything more than friendships with sex. Her early life, spontaneity, and sarcastic sense of humour cause her to be viewed as the "cool friend," but Nyte's tendency to reject sincere compliments usually leads her back to a place of slight self loathing.
The one aspect of herself that Nyte does take pride in is her intelligence. Her fair grasp of French, Italian, Greek, and German often leads to her to be of a showoff, and throw large and impressisive foreign words and phrases into regular conversation. It is never her intent to use her intelligence to insult anyone else's, but her honesty at any cause policy does have a tendency to offend those around her.
In response to what she views as having been a completely abnormal childhood, Nyte’s goals for her future are centered around the idea of leading a normal life. It is for this reason that she made the decision to move to America, a country she has always viewed as being entirely ordinary. She plans to work basic jobs to pay the rent for the rest of her life. As long as she is allowed to make her own choices, learn every day, and create her own adventures, she is completely content.
History: Amelia March Thompson was born in Cambridge, just after midnight on March 6, 1997. As her siblings continued to be born during the daytime, she was quickly awarded the nickname of “Nyte.”
Due to being raised by a multinational pair of authors and Cambridge professors, Nyte was home-schooled along with her five siblings by her maternal grandfather until the age of 12. During this time she lived in both England and Cyprus, and studied several languages alongside a student’s basic math, literature, science, and history. At 12 she along with her siblings were sent to boarding schools, and Nyte chose to attend school in Marseille as a rebellious means of escaping what she viewed to be her parents’ negligent plan for forcing experiences upon their children.
While in France, Nyte quickly grew bored and began to act out. She became increasingly violent and sarcastic, and began experimenting with drugs and alcohol, the latter of which she still indulges in with too much regularity. Her behavioural issues soon affected her schooling, and she was almost expelled. After several bitter conversations with her parents, she disappeared for several months and resurfaced with an online GED and plans to leave Europe for good.
She had seen the hometowns of every member of her mother’s family, but had not once set foot in the birthplace of her father, and as far as she could figure, America was just about the farthest she could go. She booked a flight to Tennessee, a flight that would prove to be her final memory. “So there I was, drunk, on a plane, reeking of cat’s piss, clutching a rosary, and about to die.”
[ACCEPTED]
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