fishie | Entries tagged with app

( WHAT AM I DOING )

Player
Name: Cassie
Personal Journal:

fishie
E-mail: mac.is.a.girl[at]gmail.com
AIM: captchalogue it
Timezone: GMT -6
Current Characters in Route: Miyuki Chitose.

( Read more... )

( Read more... )

( this shit's IN PROGRESS, yeeeah )

( under the fuck construction )

ref links for later:
→ sh profile
→ sh app page
→ eri's app
→ hogwarts history
→ triwizard tourney

( still in progress )

player
NAME: Cassie
LJ USERNAME:

tokyocentricity
AIM/MSN/E-MAIL: tokyocentricity (AIM) || tokyocentricity@gmail.com (email)
CURRENT CHARACTERS: None!

character
NAME: Tavros Nitram
STAGE NAME: Toreador
TATTOO LOCATION: Above his right eyebrow, slightly off-center. See here.
AGE: ~13.
SERIES: Homestuck.
CANON-POINT: Some vague amount of time after Vriska's death on her questbed, but before the post-Hivebent arc begins. He's basically frolicking in Prospit. (Yes, the Horsaroni is coming with him.)

HISTORY: Wiki!

PERSONALITY: In a society where harshness and mockery are the very pivot of social interaction, Tavros is a catastrophic failure.

To begin with, he's very sensitive. While he tries his best to run with the big dogs, he often winds up being the victim in a situation where he set out to victimize someone else. He's also sympathetic enough that when he does succeed in hurting someone's feelings, he ultimately feels bad for it, and can easily be manipulated into apologizing, if he doesn't do it on his own. He really isn't cut out for being mean, which makes him a total loser in troll society, but does make it a bit easier for him to befriend the humans. (Not that he's supposed to do that, but I expect it might come in handy at Cirque, where the humans will outnumber the trolls.)

Despite (or possibly because of) all of this, he tries to get a grip on some self-confidence. On advice from a friend, he even goes so far as to personify his self-esteem, naming him 'Rufio,' and endeavours not to let anything hurt Rufio's feelings, which means showing himself more respect, and not allowing himself to be walked all over. This doesn't always work, but he continues to make the effort. Having Rufio around has, if nothing else, begun to help him understand what self-esteem means, though he doesn't realize that yet.

His confidence sometimes remains intact through sheer ignorance. He has a very simplistic, childlike view of the world, and as such, when it's Tavros being tormented (which is often enough the case), subtle jabs and sarcasm tend to go right over his head. When he does find himself being teased, he rarely, if ever, gets angry about it. It takes a lot to work him up to anger, and even more to get him to hold a grudge. Even when forced to leap off of a cliff, leading to his paralysis and confinement to a wheelchair, Tavros didn't show any overt signs of resentment or hatred toward the one who put him there, only understandable wariness.

That incident took place some time ago, while he was participating in an extreme form of live roleplay known as FLARPing. It's an unlikely hobby for him, taking his personality into account, as it involved live battles with actual dangerous enemies. He seemed to genuinely enjoy it, though; he played the game for fun, where most trolls played it with a lust for battle and/or treasure. His adventures in FLARPing were put to an end by the 'accident' caused by his supposed friend.

The breadth of his compassion, forgiveness, and just how pathetic he really is is shown in canon when the same troll who put him in a wheelchair now lay dying and in pain, and demanded that he kill her. Not only could he not bring himself to do it, but he fled the scene sobbing, because he left her to bleed to death slowly. He then spent the remainder of his time asleep, to escape the memories of the incident (as well as his depressing paralysis) in the dream world, where he could fly and walk and run to his heart's content.

This same 'friend' will someday become the target of markedly uncharacteristic rage when he discovers that she is (nearly-singlehandedly) responsible for many of the terrible things that have happened to Tavros and his friends. Under all of his legitimate sweetness, he's capable of considerable recklessness and anger, when the stressor is serious enough. Despite the immense gap in power, he will seek her out and attack her, leading immediately to his death.

However, he prefers to avoid conflict and unhappiness when possible, as shown by his aforementioned retreat to the dream world. Most of his time before the main story begins is spent playing silly games with his animal compadres and his lusus; his room is littered with cards, marbles, and posters of fairies. He has a notable attachment to fairies as a concept, which dates back prior to his paralysis. Even his roleplaying character was based off of 'Pupa Pan,' the troll version of 'Peter Pan.'

To Tavros, Cirque will be an acceptable second-best to the dream world: a chance to hang with his friends, play games and have fun, with no pressure or expectations that he can't handle. (Now if only he could fly....)

POWERS/ABILITIES: Tavros has the ability to commune with and command a wide range of animals, including very powerful ones, and even humanoid creatures such as imps and ogres. It seems like the limitation to his powers must be sentience (that is, he's unable to control a sentient mind), hence his inability to command humans.

ACT SUGGESTIONS: Given the above, I was thinking Tav could work with the beasts, possibly both behind the scenes, caring for them, and commanding them through an act in the ring.

samples
The following samples should take place in the Circus's setting. They can be from any point of time in the character's stay, but they must take place in the "concept" of the Circus.

FIRST-PERSON: [ How exactly he wound up here is still all but a mystery. He remembers Vriska approaching him, and he remembers a conversation they had, during which he became extremely confused as to what it was she wanted, and why it might be bad.

Now he's parked (please be parked please be parked) on the high-wire platform with one of his lances in his hands, and he's not exactly sure how he's supposed to balance with it, because it's not very balanced. Also, he's in a four-wheel device (that's two wheels on each side!), and there's only one wire.

On the bright side, he already can't walk, so as long as he doesn't break his neck, he should be fine, right? ]

... Vriska... ? [ She's watching him, and he knows it. ] Vriska, I can't, um... I can't cross this. Vriska!

[ He can't even turn around on this platform to consider trying to go back down the ladder.

But hey... maybe one of his elephant friends might help him out.

Tavros grins a little and reaches out for a pachyderm pal. ]

Vriska, this isn't very nice. [ He totally sucks at bluffing. If she's any kind of smart, she'll recognize the change in his tone, from desperate to mischievous. Tavros doesn't even notice it, himself. ] You should get me down from here.

[ She's just sticking her head in the ring, expression suspicious, when the big, grey trunk wraps around her middle. ]

THIRD-PERSON: Despite his resolve to remain cool, Tavros flailed his arms. He'd liked to have flailed his legs, too, but he wasn't sure it would have helped. The clowns were pretty strong, bizarrely enough. He actually wasn't sure who was under that makeup, but he really hoped one of them wasn't Equius.

Dutifully, the two clowns lifted him high out of his chair and placed him with the utmost care into a cannon oh sweet jegus. Tavros made a sound that was basically the exact opposite of cool, and pretty much the same thing as wailing.

"H-hey! Look, I — I didn't — I won't do it again!" He didn't do it in the first place. In fact, he didn't even know what 'it' was, but he sure as hell wouldn't do it (at all, or again), if they'd just put him down. "I — oh my god — please don't do this! Help!"

They let go of his arms only when he was armpit-deep in the barrel. He scrabbled to get his hands on the outside of the cannon, for the moment propping himself up out of it. "I — I really, uh, don't think that I'll be a very good cannonball." He's not sure if that sounded as convincing as he wanted it to, but he's leaning toward 'highly unlikely."

They folded his hands against his chest, with Tavros fighting them every step of the way. Even as strong as his arms were, though, the clowns were inscrutably stronger. His elbows were tucked into his sides, eliminating his last holdout against becoming the world's first troll cannonball. They pushed the top of his head down —

Clunk.

The clowns murmured, and Tavros' body sagged with a sudden wave of relief.

He fucking loved his horns.

ANY QUESTIONS?: None! ♥

Out of Character Information

player name: Cassie
player livejournal:

tokyocentricity
playing here:

soulbetween.
where did you find us? Via Mi and Batty!
are you 16 years of age or older?: Yes'ms.

In Character Information

character name: Vincent Phantomhive.
Fandom: Kuroshitsuji.
Timeline: Pre-death by only a day (so basically, from post-flashback in Ch. 32).
character's age: 35 (or so I'm saying; we have no canon age for him).

powers, skills, pets and equipment: Vincent has no supernatural talents canonly, but he has no shortage of skills of the non-supernatural variety. He's highly skilled at manipulating people, noted by other characters in the series as one of a group of 'evil noblemen.' As he held a position as the Queen of England's 'watchdog,' we can also assume that he was possessed of a number of other talents, likely including espionage, investigation and possibly even assassination.

Upon his arrival in Anatole, the Mist will grant him a few new attributes: enhanced senses of hearing, sight, smell, and with them, the ability to 'track' people or objects, which almost functions as a sense in and of itself. People and objects leave 'trails' that are discernible to Vincent both in sight and scent. If one wanted to avoid being tracked, masking their scent (as by crossing water, or passing through a thick throng of people) and moving superhumanly quickly (something like flash step or teleportation) would do the trick.

When Vince is 'canon updated' (sometime later), he'll receive one last gift from the Mist — not really a 'power,' as such, but a sort of quirk. Having realized his death and recognized that he's intended to be dead, Vince will acquire a form of sublimation. He will spontaneously turn into a ghostly fog/mist (sadly not of the magical variety) for brief periods of time. He won't have any control over it, so while he may occasionally be fortunate enough to dissolve right before he gets punched, for example, it's all a matter of luck. He might just as likely dissipate while trying to hug someone.

As for equipment, Vincent comes packaged with a Colt SAA and a Reichsrevolver M79 for backup. ♥

canon history: Wiki. Disregard the 'Anime Synopsis' section; I'm pulling him from the manga.

personality: Vincent Phantomhive is known to most to be a generous, good-humoured and amiable man. He's noted for his abundant kindness, his consideration for others, and, at the same time, the darker aspects of his life. Vincent Phantomhive, like his father before him, is known as the 'guard dog' to Queen Victoria of England. On her orders, he will carry out 'morally grey' operations without question and without fail, and he has taken and ruined many lives in the course of his work for Her Majesty. It's something that, with his bleeding heart, he mourns every day, but not something that he has ever regretted. He takes immense pride in what he does, and in carrying on the illustrious Phantomhive name as his father desired him to.

He puts much of his time and effort into serving Her Majesty as well as running his company — the Funtom Company, which makes toys and games for children of all ages. However, neither of these things takes priority over the most important factor in his life: his family. His beloved wife, Rachel, and his darling son, Ciel, are the absolute world to him, and he puts their safety and happiness before everything else, including orders from Her Majesty. Were he forced to make a choice, he would sooner be a traitor to his country than a failure to his family. (Seriously, I cannot stress enough how much of a family man this guy is. You have no idea.)

With his family, friends and strangers alike, Vincent is a witty conversationalist and a social butterfly. He comes off as being naturally friendly and approachable, and makes friends very easily. The sort of generosity people might normally bestow upon their most loved ones is the sort of generosity that Vincent sees fit to bestow upon complete strangers: he invites children from the local orphanage into his home on the holidays, and donates liberally to charities as well as to individuals in need. In some respects, these things are done to ease his conscience, because he feels as though he needs to create some form of balance for all the evil he's done in his life.

The strong points of his personality are numerous, but not innumerable. He's a naturally magnetic person; others are drawn to him, and it makes him an excellent leader. His loyalties are deep and unshakable, and he doesn't shy away from hard work. While generally a 'good' person, he is also quite capable of manipulation, extortion, and other unsavory things in the name of Her Majesty or his family.

In his own opinion, Vincent's weaknesses outnumber his strengths, but he tends to be hard on himself. He's been accused of being too generous — he'll give you a second chance, and a third, and a fourth, and he will empty his pockets for you and give you the shirt off his back, even if he knows he's being duped. His softheartedness makes it nearly impossible for him to say no, and that includes the discipline of his son, which he typically leaves in his wife's hands, as he's no good at it. Children in general are a distinct weakness for him, and on the rare occasion that his work for the Queen puts him in such a position that he's had to kill a child, it's eaten him alive ever since.

His role as Her Majesty's guard dog has changed him in remarkable ways since he took the responsibility from his late father. His once-optimistic views have been dimmed, and while he'd never let you know it, his opinion of humans as a race and his hopes and dreams for the future have all been horribly warped. He has trouble really trusting people, not that it stops him from letting them take advantage. The things he's done haunt him daily, and the side of himself that he keeps in reserve for Her Majesty can sometimes slip out, causing him to go a bit overboard, especially if his family's safety is in question.

why do you feel this character would be appropriate to the setting? His canon is fairly dark in nature to begin with, and his character especially so: he was one of the 'evil noblemen,' the watchdog to the Queen, who carried out her bidding in what Ciel, the watchdog after him, has shown us were often likely to be unsavoury/morally grey ways.

Writing Samples

Network Post Sample: A DM post! I know the post itself doesn't do much for giving you a feel of the character, but I think (hope) you'll find that the particular thread I linked to does a much better job.

Aaaand from a former game. Again, the threads are more telling than the post. ♥

Third Person Sample: The forest finally began to whisper again. Vincent's presence had rendered it still and silent for nearly an hour. Now that he was still and silent, the ambient sounds resumed slowly. He continued to wait patiently.

Finally, the crunching sound of underbrush caught his ear. He refocused his eyes, looking into the trees for an incongruous movement. There —

That wasn't a deer.

He felt his heart sink as he watched her move from tree to tree, stepping daintily over roots, smiling daringly at him through the branches. Every time he thought he'd finally adjusted to the Mist and the visions it brought, he was proven wrong. Every time he saw her, he missed her more than ever.

Closing his eyes, he counted silently to ten. When he opened them again, she was still there, head cocked, teasing. He set his jaw and looked beyond her.

That was a deer, and a hell of one, at that. Vincent fingered an arrow thoughtfully, watching the massive beast mill around the base of a tree. It would certainly serve more than a few dinners.

He notched the arrow in his bow carefully and without a sound, and drew the bow in much the same way. She stood beside the deer, stroking its hide. Vincent realized with a sick lurch that he was going to have to shoot through her, hallucination or not. He held his breath and let the arrow fly.

The blood splashed her white dress — her wedding dress, he reflected, and hated this place all over again — and the creature jerked, stumbled, and ran. His wife simply fell, like a puppet with cut strings. Vincent walked right past her, his eyes on the trail that the deer left. It was a soft, muted forest green that almost blended with the flora. He could smell the blood and the musk from its fur. Now that he was on the move again, the rest of the woods were quiet, and he could hear the desperate crashing of a wounded animal, as well.

When at last it stopped, he approached. It saw him coming, heard him, and struggled, thrashed, but it was growing weaker by the second. He could leave it alone for a few minutes and wait for it to die, but he'd be the only one. There were hungrier beasts about, and he'd be lucky if he didn't get attacked before he got out of here. Besides, it seemed only decent to end the poor thing's suffering.

He slit its throat quickly and got to work. The whole carcass was too large to take back, so he'd have to take what he could.

Anything else? Nope! ♥

Out of Character Information

player name: Cassie!
player livejournal:

tokyocentricity.
playing here:

soulbetween.
where did you find us? Via Mi and Batty! ♥
are you 16 years of age or older?: Yes, ma'ams. ♥

In Character Information

character name: Quistis Trepe.
Fandom: Final Fantasy VIII.
Timeline: About three months post-game.
character's age: 18.

powers, skills, pets and equipment: In her own home world, Quistis was a practitioner of blue magic, which copies, builds on and utilizes enemy skills. This ability persists in Anatole, but operates somewhat differently: she can 'steal' any magic that's been used against her, unless it resulted in her death. Her power with said magic will never be able to exceed that which she was hit with — if someone uses a very restrained or weak basic-level lightning spell that's the magical equivalent of rubbing wool socks on the carpet and touching a doorknob, she's restricted to static electricity with that spell. Consistent with her 'limit break' ability from back home, her blue magic is much more easily accessible when she's severely injured or weakened. At full strength, it would be a futile struggle to attempt to use it.

The people of her homeworld utilized a type of energy-based magic known as 'para-magic,' the power for which could be drawn from various monsters or from the planet itself. Here in Anatole, she'll be able to draw magic from the Sphere's myriad of beasts. (List is here; let me know if anything needs to be changed!) These spells are stocked in limited numbers, and must be restocked when used up.

Her weapon of choice from a fairly young age was a whip; this weapon has evolved over time, but the basic form remained the same. At eighteen, she's an expert with just about any whip you can hand her, but her favourites are tipped with small, heavy blades. She's in excellent physical shape, thanks to being employed as a mercenary in her homeworld, which is inundated with monsters that are frequently encountered outside the boundaries of towns.

A few months prior to her arrival in Anatole, she was plucked from her world and dropped into the wonderful world of Johto, where she spent some time battling, capturing and training Pokémon. By the time she was sucked into Anatole, she was possessed of several mid-level, well-trained Pokémon, and a self-modified training whip with a bladed tip.

canon history: Wiki!

personality: At the age of four, Quistis was orphaned in a war. She spent roughly a year at an orphanage, where she unknowingly met the people who would share her fate later on, and was soon adopted. She didn't spend much time with her new parents, relatively speaking, due to an unexplained conflict. By the time she was ten, she left home for Balamb Garden, a training school for soldiers/mercenaries called SeeD. Garden was a nurturing environment for her ambition and work ethic. When she was fifteen — as young as she was allowed — she became a full-fledged SeeD. Two years later, she was made the youngest SeeD Instructor on record. Given her swift rise to success, she was understandably proud, and became comfortable (perhaps too much so) in her position.

Socially, however, this put her in a difficult position. She was the same age as most of the students she taught, but her position as their superior has put something of a barrier between them. She still has difficulty connecting with people her own age. On the other hand, she tends to be intimidated by older people (being the youngest in her field), especially those in a position of authority, so she's also had trouble connecting with her peers. This is something that she's actively trying to overcome. Since canon events, she's gotten her second wind, and intends to be more assertive and outgoing. She would rather move forward, to become the instructor that she knows she can be, than backward, to become the young woman whom she's trying to outgrow.

After just a short year working as an instructor at the Garden, she suffered a major setback in the form of demotion. Stripped of her instructor's license for 'lack of leadership qualities,' she was operating only as a SeeD, This gave her a chance to 'go back to the basics,' in a way, which has by now helped her immensely — she has come to acknowledge her faults. It was this event that forced her to take a step back and reevaluate herself. Her resolve to earn back her instructor's license and a second chance are the root of her change in attitude.

Some weeks later, some lost memories of her childhood, from a time before her parents, were revived. She remembered her time at the orphanage, and came to realize that the strong feelings she'd long since harboured for one of her students — long a source of internal conflict for her, especially since it crashed on a less-than-favourable note — was nothing more than a misunderstood familial bond. She had lived with the boy at the orphanage, and tried to be a guiding figure for him. This endeavour came to nothing, both back then and more recently, manifesting in her failure as an instructor. With the pressure and anxiety of that failed relationship somewhat lessened, Quistis was able to more easily accept the student's developing relationship with someone else. She learned to operate independently from her emotions — something that she'd had trouble with in the past, which had been severely limiting her contributions to their little saving-the-world party.

While she's an excellent teacher, her ability to guide students with a firm hand is considerably lacking. Because of this, while her leadership skills and tactical prowess are sound in battle, they seem to falter in the classroom. Her capabilities in battle, however, are among her stronger points. She's a brilliant tactician and highly intelligent, qualities which shine frequently in a strategic card game in her home world, which she is considered to be highly skilled at. She's also quite brave; she doesn't shy away from physical conflict or danger. In fact, she will, when necessary, put herself in danger to protect her students. She handles responsibility admirably, rarely breaking stride.

If it weren't for her lack of assertiveness, she would have made an excellent instructor, but Quistis hates to be 'the bad guy,' and is often reluctant to discipline where she should. She wants to be liked, and will sometimes even compromise her better judgment or avoid social conflict to accomplish this end. Her emotions tend to get the better of her, often to the point of interfering with her duties as a SeeD.

All of this said and done, Quistis is a very rational and level person. She has high ambitions and is driven and goal-oriented. There's often a divergence in her personality; she's just as emotionally reactive as she is logical, which can leave her ill at ease, but she's capable of pitting these two parts against one another and balancing them out. She also walks a balance between friendly and somewhat self-conscious; she's quite sociable, but still a bit reluctant to reach out. When approached, however, she proves to be amiable and typically easygoing, ready to listen and eager to talk. She's in no way cold, but she can be hard — the world she comes from is riddled with monsters, she's been trained to kill, and she's seen plenty of battle. Quistis is a tough girl who knows her shortcomings and is consciously working to eliminate them.

why do you feel this character would be appropriate to the setting? See above: world full of monsters, trained to kill, seen plenty of battle. Anyplace outside the cities in her homeworld (and occasionally within the cities) was inundated with random encounters that were quite often life-and-death situations. She also helped save the world from an evil sorceress at the ripe young age of eighteen.

Previously Played Information

previous game:

route_29!
length of time there: Aaaalmost three months, but I'm not planning to drop her there anytime soon.

important development and/or events in your previous game: She came to Route fresh off the worldsaving train, so she was still straddling the fence between 'rattled, exhausted and jaded' and 'hysterically relieved.' Johto proved to be much mellower, easier to deal with — there was almost no pressure, and she met a number of new friends, traveled a bit and learned to battle with Pokémon.

notes: Pokémon! She has them. She also picked up a handful of new friends, but no one who was more than that, and strengthened her relationship with Rinoa greatly.

Writing Samples

Network Post Sample: [ The video turns on, shooting from just a few feet off the ground and catching an upward view of Quistis. She only notices once she's finished coiling up her whip, but when she catches sight of it, she smiles cursorily. ]

Afternoon, Anatole. I have a request to make.

I've gotten my fill of the deer here amidst the hunting grounds, and I'm looking for more of a challenge. It's been a while since I've had a decent fight, and... I guess I'd gotten used to it.

[ She's still walking, the camera bobbing along as well, but keeping steadily on her face and even zooming in to catch her brief thoughtful expression. ]

There are monsters a bit further into the mist, aren't there? I'd like to check it out, but I'd rather not go alone. This place is far too dangerous. I'd like to organize a hunting party of sorts, if anyone else is interested. Do let me know?

[ Now she reaches down and picks up the cameraman, taking the camera from his paws and turning it so that it catches the both of them — Quistis and her Riolu — before it shuts off. ]

Third Person Sample:

Anything else? ...Anything else? :D

Player
Name: Cassie
Livejournal Username:

tokyocentricity
E-mail: tokyocentricity@gmail
AIM/MSN: tokyocentricity
Timezone: GMT -6
Current Characters in Route: Sebastian Michaelis, Quistis Trepe, Niou Masaharu, Marco.

Character
Name: Rarity.
Series: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Timeline: Post-episode 14.
Canon Resource Links: Surprisingly, a wiki.

Affiliation: Breeder.

Personality: The thing to keep in mind about Rarity is that she is, unbelievably, the spirit of generosity. She'd give the shoes off her hooves for a complete stranger, or even, as she did in one episode, cut off her own gorgeous tail to give a weeping sea serpent a fashionable moustache. Her generosity truly knows no bounds. Even when a friend doesn't quite meet the high standards Rarity sets for herself, she doesn't blame or criticise them for it — she offers them beauty tips, a makeover or a wardrobe rehaul, and helps them to find their own style that suits them the best.

Her standards are set high, however; she expects the best from herself and from others. As patient and generous as she is, she can't stand for pure carelessness, laziness or sloppiness. If her attempts at help are met with resistance or apathy, she gets frustrated and snappish. In moods like this, she can be remarkably rude, but she's usually quick to see how bad her behaviour is and correct it. Bad behaviour, after all, like a tangled mane or untrimmed hooves, is unseemly!

Appearances, both in terms of looks and behaviour, are important to Rarity. She owns her own fashion boutique, where she designs and tailors clothing; as a business owner, she has to be concerned about how she's viewed. Every stranger could be a potential client! Her shop is her livelihood, and she's fortunate enough to have the talent to maintain it. She's very creative, with an incredible eye for detail and a knack for making something out of next to nothing.

More than those skills, though, what keeps her business thriving is her ambition. She sets her sights, like her standards, very high; in one episode, we discover that it is her dream to become a designer for Princess Celestia and to marry her nephew. Rarity is very much goal-oriented, and she works best with a clear endgame in mind, be it close and achievable or faraway and unlikely. Even a simple short-term goal like the sweet taste of victory is enough to keep her going; she has a competitive streak a half-mile wide, and loves a healthy rivalry. Whatever it might be, she has to keep her eye on something — she doesn't idle well.

That said, she's incredibly good at biting off more than she can chew. She has great confidence in her talents and in her capacity for hard work, and while that confidence is rightfully placed, she often overestimates herself. When undertaking a large project, especially pro bono (her favourite kind!), she tends to wind up overwhelmed somewhere in the middle. This usually leads to breakdowns of the overly-dramatic variety, which she eventually pulls out of, more quickly with external encouragement and support. Breakdown or no, though, she always finishes what she starts.

Strengths/Weaknesses:
✔ Creative, especially in regards to fashion.
✔ Can do just about anything that involves sewing, knitting or crocheting.
✔ Has an excellent eye for detail and pays careful attention to the small things.
✔ Incredibly selfless in her generosity; makes new friends easily because of this.
✔ Knowledgeable and talented in basically every aspect of grooming.
✔ Always works hard; never leaves something half-finished.

✘ Absolutely detests getting dirty, wet, icky, gross, etc. if it can be at all avoided.
✘ Has a tendency to miss the big picture because she's too focused on the details.
✘ Often short-tempered when dealing with unmotivated, lazy, sloppy or careless people.
✘ Expects a lot from herself and others, and gets frustrated easily when her expectations aren't met.
✘ Can't function without some kind of goal or purpose; gets bored quickly when sitting idly.
✘ Overestimates herself; prone to getting in too deep.

Pokemon
Starter: Venonat, to be named 'Parasprite.'

Password: DEVILED EGGS WHOO.

Samples
First Person Sample: [voice]

[ The audio comes in with a sound like static. If you listen for a moment, you'll realize that it's the sound of boots on snow. Rarity's voice is trembling, but clear. ]

My sincerest apologies, Johto; I would love to grace you with my presence on video, but I am simply in no palatable condition. This weather is positively horrific; there is melting snow falling from the trees, the ground is icy, and if I'm not getting snow in my ma— hair — [ She clears her throat. ] — then I'm slipping and falling on the i-iiiiieeeee!

[ Her scream cuts off with a thump, and the 'Gear can be heard clattering to the ground. The video cuts in sharply to muddy slush and a looming Pokémon face. ]

Venononat? Nat nat!

Ugh, I'm... I'm fine.

[ Behind the Venonat, Rarity picks herself up off the ground, dripping wet, muddy and clearly quite cold. Her hair is a mess, and so are her clothes. After a second, the 'Gear is picked up again, and she doesn't bother looking at it as she continues walking gingerly. She takes a deep breath and makes her voice bright, though her expression is pained. ]

Sorry about that! I'm... not quite used to walking on two hooves — er, feet. Feet. This ice is downright treacherous! [ She gives a little laugh.

The Venonat reappears, popping up on her shoulder. ]

Nat! Nat ven!

Stop that, Parasprite, you're interrupting.

As I was saying, this weather is atrocious. If only there were some pegasus ponies to clear the skies up....

Veno nat nat! [ The Venonat bounces onto her head, and she swats it away. ]

Stop that. You're being terribly rude.

I must admit, I've nearly given up once or twice, but it wouldn't do for a pony such as myself to simply lie down in the snow! No, Rarity will press onward! Even the weather cannot —

Nat!

[ The 'Gear is promptly trounced out of Rarity's hands, leaving an open shot of the sky. She makes a string of highly exasperated noises as she bends down (carefully) to pick it up. As her face fills the screen, her expression changes from annoyed to horrified, and she screams.

The feed goes black. ]

I... I-I'm so sorry you had to see me like this, Johto.

Third Person Sample: After three days on the road, Rarity was freezing cold, soaking wet and awfully muddy. Her hair looked like the lovechild of every natural disaster known to ponykind, and were she still a pony, she'd have chipped hooves. (As it were, she'd broken four nails. Ugh.)

Despite her own state of emergency, however, there was something that had been bothering her since the very beginning of this journey, and it needed to be dealt with. Something of absolute and vital importance, something that Rarity simply could not ignore any longer.

"Honestly, darling, I don't know why anypony hasn't thought of this before! You're obviously the perfect candidate for a perm! This will perfectly complete your look. You have my word!"

Humming happily, she wrapped lock after lock of treated fur around short rods. Her hands were still a little awkward, if better now that they'd warmed up. She found it a bit exasperating that she had to do everything one step at a time, instead of all at once with her magic, but she was adjusting. And well, she thought, stepping back to survey her Pokémon.

Parasprite the Venonat looked like a porcupine, buried beneath a mess of perming rods and loosely-wrapped fur. She drooped a little, uncertain.

"Venono...."

"Nonsense!" Rarity said brightly. "You'll be positively lovely."

As usual when it came to beauty, Rarity was right. When the rods came out and her fur had been re-treated and dried, Rarity placed Parasprite in front of a mirror. All of her previously-frizzy violet fur fell in soft, loose waves, making her gigantic eyes look even bigger, somehow. As Parasprite gazed at her reflection in wonder, Rarity leaned over her head to fix a jeweled red barrette at her right temple. It kept the fur out of her face, and it brought out her eyes, to boot! (As if those massive eyes needed to be accentuated.)

Slowly, Parasprite's uneasy expression brightened.

"Venat? Ven ven!"

Rarity beamed behind her. "See? I told you you'd be beautiful. Now, aren't you glad you listened to Rarity?"

Name: Cassie
Personal LJ:

tokyocentricity
Contact Info: tokyocentricity (AIM); tokyocentricity@gmail.
Other Characters Played: Also currently apping for Vincent Phantomhive, but no characters currently in play.
Preferred Housing: If at all possible, I'd like him to be stuck with the Grell that's also currently apping, assuming we're both accepted. It's been talked over with the other player already.

Character Name: William T. Spears.
Character Series: Kuroshitsuji.
Character Age: Unknown; apparent age mid-twenties?
Background: Wiki!

Personality: Will presents as a stone-cold bastard. He seems to have little consideration for others, generally thinking only of himself, and adhering strictly to rules, regardless of the consequences. To some extent, this is true. His main concern is for his job, which he does with a chilly sort of efficiency. He hates to stray from the rules and holds a sharp distaste for others who do, as well as for those who slack off. He's always working hard, not because he enjoys it, as some might think, but because he hates working overtime. He prefers to keep his work and his free time distinctly separated, and that's very difficult to do when his work time keeps bleeding into the rest of his (rigid) schedule.

As a senior in the workplace, he expects his underlings to work just as hard as he does. He takes on as many responsibilities as he can manage, never more and never, ever less, and he takes them very seriously (as he takes most things — he's not the joking type). When the people around him fail to do the same, it frustrates him. He tends to feel that he's the only one pulling his weight. He has no qualms with insulting them and punishing them for their actions, sometimes violently. He has many more qualms with having to clean up their messes and apologize in their wake. Forcing him to pay for his coworkers' incompetence is a quick way to piss him off.

He's not the angry type, though — while easily irritated, it takes a monumentally concerted effort to actually anger him, and even then, he's the type to bottle it up, not voice his feelings. In emotional situations in general, he has a tendency to be shy and uncomfortable. Feelings aren't something he's well acquainted with (not, as rumour has it, because he has none, but) because he doesn't often express them openly. Practicality takes priority over emotion in his life; he keeps himself busy and he keeps his head above the emotional tides. He's a hard man to get close to because of this, but if you can manage it, you've won his loyalty for life.

Overall, he prefers to keep to himself and for others to do the same. Unfortunately, it's rare for that to actually work out for him. If he had his way, he would be surrounded by competent, polite and like-minded individuals who did their jobs as efficiently as he does his, and left him to his business while he left them to theirs. What he doesn't realize, however, is that if he had his way, he would be incredibly bored. The people around him put a spin on his life that he would probably sincerely miss if they went away.

Abilities: As a Death God, William has a number of abilities typical to the profession — above-average strength, speed and reflexes are only the beginning. His job is to supervise the deaths of humans, to investigate untimely deaths and those who escape their intended deaths, and to collect the souls of the dead to be judged. As such, he possesses a deathscythe, the standard tool of the Death Gods, used to release a human's Cinematic Record, a record of their life on Earth. His deathscythe (is not an ability, but will be taken upon his arrival, so I thought it relevant) is a standard model: a polearm-like weapon with clipper blades on either end, and the ability to extend its length over great distances.

Sample Entry: [ There is a slight clearing-of-throat before he speaks. You can almost envision him adjusting his tie. ]

I've had many suggestions to become a teacher, however, I would rather avoid working with children if at all possible. Schools full of these... hiveminded creatures in miniature might be bearable, but I suspect that the arrivals from elsewhere also attend school, where appropriate. I'm sure they're less bearable.

In lieu of that, I'm considering becoming a librarian. It's not as if it would be much different from being a Death God. I spent more time shelving records than reaping souls, most days. If not, perhaps a banker — the pay is better; something to consider.

Is there anyone with any experience in these positions here at Mayfield? I've a feeling that they're not precisely the same here as anywhere else.

Player
Name: Cassie
Livejournal Username:

tokyocentricity
E-mail: tokyocentricity@gmail
AIM/MSN: tokyocentricity (AIM)
Timezone: CST (GMT-6)
Current Characters in Route: Sebastian Michaelis, Quistis Trepe, Niou Masaharu.

Character
Name: Marco
Series: Animorphs
Timeline: Between books #28 and #29.
Canon Resource Links: Wiki! There is no Animorphs Wiki, sadly, but Wikipedia did a decent job.

Affiliation: Trainer.

Personality: At first brush, Marco seems to be a decent guy; a little annoying sometimes, always a joker, usually friendly. This isn't completely untrue. He's the kind of person who'd rather laugh than cry; he tries to joke about anything he can, even some things that shouldn't be joked about. In a lot of respects, he's a normal teenager: flirting with girls (and getting shot down), self-conscious about his height, only half-attentive in class. That part of him hasn't gone away, but it's been relegated to the backseat in the last year.

Since the war started, other aspects of Marco's personality, some less pleasant than others, have come to surface. He's pragmatic, highly intelligent, with the ability to see from Point A to Point B, disregarding moral or ethical complications. When the need arises, he can be perfectly ruthless, willing to make the small sacrifices, however personal, in favour of the bigger picture. He finds himself growing more impassive, more violent, more willing to do what has to be done, regardless of the consequences, with every battle he and his friends fight.

That said, it's not as though the war has turned him into a bad person. He still cares for his family and friends deeply; he's even inclined, at times, to put them before the 'greater good,' or at least to try. The fact that he can ignore moral conflicts doesn't mean that he always does. He's quite capable of factoring in the morality of a situation and strategizing around it. The things that the war has illuminated in him aren't exactly things he's comfortable with, but he's learning to accept them, because they are a part of him, and they're not going away.

Strengths:
— Highly intelligent; strategic mind.
— Capable of being merciless when necessary.
— Able to find humour in most situations.
— Really cute. (Or so he says.)

Weaknesses:
— Ants give him the heebie-jeebies. (Yes, really.)
— His mother. (This isn't a joke.)
— Tends to give in to violence when seriously angered.

Pokemon
Starter: Rhyhorn.

Password: Deviled eggs!

Samples
(Please note that both samples must take place in Route_29’s setting.)

First Person Sample:

Third Person Sample: The minimum is 300 words. Please note that what we are looking for is an inner working into the character’s thoughts and actions, and not something that could be taken as a fanfic. You may use other characters to bounce your characters actions off of, but everything should still be from their point of view.

PLAYER
Name: Cassie
Age: 21
Journal:

tokyocentricity
Best Method of Contact (AIM/EMAIL/PLURK): tokyocentricity (AIM); starfishing (plurk); tokyocentricity@gmail.

CHARACTER
Name: Youichi Hiruma
Age: 19
Canon: Eyeshield 21
History: Wiki!
Personality: Hiruma is an enigma wrapped in a little blond riddle.

Outwardly, he's loud, vulgar, crazy, and prone to threatening people with violence or blackmail to get what he wants. If you don't plant both feet at least several inches deep in the ground, he's going to run roughshod over you. This applies regardless of status, power, age or whatever else you think you might have over him; Hiruma has very grey morals, zero respect for authority and presents as being basically fearless. Even his better emotions come out a little twisted. When he's happy, he shoots things. When he's fond of you, he kicks you. He doesn't appear to care much, though, for anyone beyond himself (but of course, appearances can be deceiving).

Beneath the bizarre surface is something a little less inexplicable: a cunning, manipulative young man with a mind like a steel trap. He prefers blackmail to violence, as it's 'neater,' and he's highly ambitious and goal-oriented. He's shown a knack for long, tactical games and a keen understanding of strategy in many forms. Even beyond his specialties, he's incredibly bright, proficient in all subjects and outstanding in some. It's been speculated (and there may be some truth to this, though Hiruma himself will never confirm or deny) that much of his outward persona is an affected air, constructed to keep the mindless masses frightened and compliant (read: just the way he likes them).

In truth, the only rules he follows are his own, and the only moral code he adheres to is the one he's set for himself. It's not that he doesn't care about anyone, just that he doesn't care about much of anyone, and he has an odd way of showing it when he does. Emotions aren't the enemy — Hiruma's not so stupid as to think it's just that black-and-white, and he does understand the value of an irreplaceable friend — but they're best kept under careful control, and he never lets his heart rule his head if he can help it.

IN GAME
Brief In-Game History: Little Hiruma was raised by his father in Japan. He sure is a long way from home, isn't he?

Well, his father was a professional chess player, acclaimed at the international level. (Oooh, exciting.) They traveled often; Hiruma learned his father's trade as they went. Unfortunately, the good life didn't last. Around the time Hiruma was ten years old, the old man began to run up on more and more opponents he had no hope of beating, and his chess career was looking like a wash. He struggled to get back into the game, as it was their financial sustenance and the only marketable skill he had, but to no avail. Watching his father flounder and fail over the course of four years, Hiruma began to grow discontent, then disgusted. The man he'd looked up to all his life was only that man when he was winning, and he wasn't winning anymore. When he wasn't winning, he was pathetic.

At last, stranded in Italy, they stumbled upon some good luck. A mysterious stranger offered Hiruma's father the chance to win big, big enough to support himself and his son for the rest of their lives. They would take care of his buy-in, but of course, the stakes were high: a loss, he was told, meant he would be in 'heavy debt' to them — 'the Family.' Still, eager to prove himself again, he agreed. He promised his son that he would win, that this would be the beginning of his comeback, that things would be good again.

He lied.

Without anything to offer to pay for his loss, the old man was quickly killed. The now-orphaned Hiruma, somewhat shaken by the loss of his father, was taken in, and he soon learned that the Mendolia always won. It didn't take them long to earn his loyalty, but they didn't succeed in brainwashing him, either. By appealing to him with logic and action, they managed to win him over. They had beaten his father fair and square, and the man was a loser. Losers deserved to die. Winners deserved to live.

With this newfound creed, Hiruma was swiftly inducted into the laboratories of the Mendolia family, where many experiments resulted in a few of modifications. A series of procedures in which his skull was disassembled and reassembled gave them the opportunity to completely alter his dental work, leaving him with a full set of sharpened, finely serrated teeth. His ears were remodeled, more out of necessity than vanity, and in the process, his hearing was tampered with, raising his threshold of aural pain and hearing loss, and enhancing his sensitivity to lower-decibel sounds. Some of the drugs administered during this time also changed the colour of his hair and eyes to blonde and green, respectively.

By far the most significant test the Mendolia put him through involved the perforare. They discovered that his talent for it lie in (surprise, surprise!) tactics, not offense or defense. Under the influence of the perforare, Hiruma was able to penetrate people's minds and target their most well-hidden secrets. In fact, that was all he could target; he seemed to have difficulty grasping their foremost thoughts, or even thoughts that were specifically directed at him. It was a useful ability, but not one that the Mendolia were so certain they wanted to foster. They did like their secrets, thank you.

In the interest of redirecting his abilities, they introduced Hiruma to guns. Rifles, shotguns, handguns, bazookas, bolt-action, semi- and fully-automatic, and even small explosives, in launchers or without: in time, they had Hiruma memorize the stats and best applications for nearly any weapon he might conceivably get his hands on. The weapons that he did get his hands on were quickly mastered for use. He proved to be quite the asset, even without his double-edged perforare.

Come his eighteenth birthday, however, Hiruma decided to take himself off the Family's hands altogether. As he explained to them, it wasn't that he wasn't grateful, or that he had anyone else to work for — just that he wanted to work independently. As incentive, he was happy to offer discounts on the weapons he'd be dealing, and for them, info would always be free of charge.

Equally happy to receive the offered benefits and place Hiruma somewhere he might prove of more use (out on the streets to trawl for secrets, instead of in their midst), the Mendolia agreed to cut him loose. Of course, Hiruma knew he wasn't completely free of their clutches, but he didn't need to be. He wasn't trying to double-cross them. Family was Family, after all.

Out on his own, he found it easy to turn a profit selling weapons and secrets. It's been a bit more than a year since then, and Hiruma's still living easy out of a hotel in Vizzini.

Type of Bullet(s) Requested: Intuito.
Abilities gained from bullets: Hiruma is able to see into the minds of others, and more specifically, target secrets. The deeper something is buried, the more likely he is to find it. Sifting through unhidden thoughts isn't something he can do easily; while the secrets come to him quickly, stopping to look at anything else along the way requires concentration. If someone's thinking about a secret when he dives in, he'll probably miss it completely.
Famiglia: Independent.

SAMPLES
First Person: Here's a DM post, but there were no comments, so if you needed a better look....

[ The video opens to a brightly-lit room; a pinball machine and a large table, completely covered with a tablecloth-sized map of Sicily can be seen in the background. There are coloured pins stuck all over the map, and a combat knife somewhere in the vicinity of Palermo.

The phone is deposited on said table, not far from the combat knife, leaving it out-of-focus and blurry in the foreground. ]

All right, you fucking goombas, listen up. Got some nice shit for Christmas and I'm feeling fucking generous, so I might give out some gifts myself.

Gonna have a merch showcasing. Piazza Marconi, Friday, my favourite fucking time. You fuckers should know when to be there. Show up late and eat lead.

[ In the background, where the camera has focus, the scoped barrel of a rifle swings past. After that, a hand reaches out to stop the feed, obscuring the view in the process. ]

Third Person: Hiruma blew a lazy bubble and his teeth ripped right through it, so he dragged the gum back into his mouth to try again. There was an art to it, he'd done it before. It just took a few tries. He tried again while he waited for the fucking instructor to decide on something he might not know.

Fat fucking chance.

Hiruma hadn't spent the last couple of years memorizing every fucking piece of artillery they could think up just to have this fucking goon show him up. Truthfully, it wasn't what he wanted to be doing with his fucking time, but it was a decent way to keep busy while he waited.

In just ten months and four days, Hiruma planned to walk out of here a free fucking man. (As free as you ever got from the fucking Mendolia, anyway.) He had an operable plan; he just had to wait until his eighteenth birthday to set it into motion. By his latest assessment, however, the plan was bound to be successful — he estimated about 96%.

The instructor held up a screen with a sturdy little SAR 21 on it. Hiruma pretended to be deep in thought while the fucking instructor's expression grew slowly more gleeful.

"SAR 21. From Singapore. Gas-operated, rotating bolt, takes a 5.56 NATO."

Watching the guy's face fall was enough to make him accidentally pop the next bubble, too.

"That was number forty-five, fucking instructor," Hiruma informed him. "Can I get the fuck out of here now?"

It had been a long time ago that the instructors had given up any pretense of being in charge of the lessons. The man sighed and resigned himself to taking notes as Hiruma left.

Name: Cassie
Personal LJ:

tokyocentricity
Contact Info: AIM (tokyocentricity), email (tokyocentricity@gmail), plurk (starfishing).
Other Characters Played: None!
Preferred Housing: No preference!

Character Name: Vincent Phantomhive.
Character Series: Kuroshitsuji.
Character Age: 38.
Background: Wiki. Disregard the 'Anime Synopsis' section; I'm pulling him from the manga.

Personality: Vincent Phantomhive is known to most to be a generous, good-humoured and amiable man. He's noted for his abundant kindness, his consideration for others, and, at the same time, the darker aspects of his life. Vincent Phantomhive, like his father before him, is known as the 'guard dog' to Queen Victoria of England. On her orders, he will carry out 'morally grey' operations without question and without fail, and he has taken and ruined many lives in the course of his work for Her Majesty. It's something that, with his bleeding heart, he mourns every day, but not something that he has ever regretted. He takes immense pride in what he does, and in carrying on the illustrious Phantomhive name as his father desired him to.

He puts much of his time and effort into serving Her Majesty as well as running his company — the Funtom Company, which makes toys and games for children of all ages. However, neither of these things takes priority over the most important factor in his life: his family. His beloved wife, Rachel, and his darling son, Ciel, are the absolute world to him, and he puts their safety and happiness before everything else, including orders from Her Majesty. Were he forced to make a choice, he would sooner be a traitor to his country than a failure to his family. (Seriously, I cannot stress enough how much of a family man this guy is. You have no idea.)

With his family, friends and strangers alike, Vincent is a witty conversationalist and a social butterfly. He comes off as being naturally friendly and approachable, and makes friends very easily. The sort of generosity people might normally bestow upon their most loved ones is the sort of generosity that Vincent sees fit to bestow upon complete strangers: he invites children from the local orphanage into his home on the holidays, and donates liberally to charities as well as to individuals in need. In some respects, these things are done to ease his conscience, because he feels as though he needs to create some form of balance for all the evil he's done in his life.

The strong points of his personality are numerous, but not innumerable. He's a naturally magnetic person; others are drawn to him, and it makes him an excellent leader. His loyalties are deep and unshakable, and he doesn't shy away from hard work. While generally a 'good' person, he is also quite capable of manipulation, extortion, and other unsavory things in the name of Her Majesty or his family.

In his own opinion, Vincent's weaknesses outnumber his strengths, but he tends to be hard on himself. He's been accused of being too generous — he'll give you a second chance, and a third, and a fourth, and he will empty his pockets for you and give you the shirt off his back, even if he knows he's being duped. His softheartedness makes it nearly impossible for him to say no, and that includes the discipline of his son, which he typically leaves in his wife's hands, as he's no good at it. Children in general are a distinct weakness for him, and on the rare occasion that his work for the Queen puts him in such a position that he's had to kill a child, it's eaten him alive ever since.

His role as Her Majesty's guard dog has changed him in remarkable ways since he took the responsibility from his late father. His once-optimistic views have been dimmed, and while he'd never let you know it, his opinion of humans as a race and his hopes and dreams for the future have all been horribly warped. He has trouble really trusting people, not that it stops him from letting them take advantage. The things he's done haunt him daily, and the side of himself that he keeps in reserve for Her Majesty can sometimes slip out, causing him to go a bit overboard, especially if his family's safety is in question.

Abilities: No supernatural abilities to speak of! He's a talented man, but nothing that would be taken from him upon entering Mayfield.

Sample Entry: Sample post! I know the post itself doesn't do much for giving you a feel of the character, but I think (hope) you'll find that the particular thread I linked to does a much better job.

Out of Character Information

player name: Cassie
player livejournal:

tokyocentricity
playing here: None yet.
where did you find us? Through Mi and Batty. Mi's on my plurk, and I've seen her talk with your Sebastian (never caught a name) about the game, and then I heard you guys had a Kaien, and it was Batty who finally convinced me. xD;
are you 16 years of age or older?: 22 in a few months. b

In Character Information

character name: Shiba Miyako
fandom: Bleach (anime, since the events surrounding her death differed)
timeline: Post-death.
character's age: Over a century, I'd imagine? It's honestly really hard to gauge ages in Bleach. /fail

powers, skills, pets and equipment: Miyako possesses a number of powers and abilities typical to Shinigami — an extremely long lifespan, high physical stamina and an inherently high level of spiritual energy, able to be manipulated to bolster agility, speed and power. Spiritual energy is used in other ways, such as the casting of kidou spells, a field in which Miyako is also proficient. As a third-seat, her spiritual energy is fairly high, though it doesn't yet approach lieutenant level. Still, she can exert a fair amount of spiritual pressure, which is considered an offensive ability in and of itself. She's a talented swordsman, able to simultaneously take on a number of seated officers alone, without shikai. She carries a zanpakutou sealed as a standard katana.

After her arrival in Anatole, her unsealed zanpakuto takes the form of a pair of glaives with ornately carved handles. They stand almost six feet tall each, and with one in each hand, she can use them to create a repelling shield in front of herself, which throws back anything that strikes it. A more complex and difficult technique called 'Flower of Life' allows her to create a dome-shaped shield of similar properties by stabbing the glaives into the ground on either side of the space she wants to protect. Neither of these shields is infallible, but both are capable of repelling most physical attacks as well as lower- to mid-level kidou and/or magic.

canon history: We first meet Miyako as the third-seat officer of the Thirteenth Division, and the wife of the Thirteenth Division's vice-captain, Shiba Kaien. It was through her position in the Thirteenth Division that she met Kuchiki Rukia, the youngest (adopted) daughter of one of the other three noble families, AKA 'our stalwart heroine.' Rukia viewed her as a role model, admiring her not only for her better qualities, but for her position, and her ability to have earned it as a girl in a boys' game, so to speak.

When an unexpectedly powerful Hollow attacked a Thirteenth Division patrol group, Miyako, the highest-ranking Shinigami there, was the only one to come back alive. She was unconscious, but expected to survive. That night, however, she awoke and attacked several members of the division. It became quickly apparent that she was no longer herself. When she came face-to-face with Kaien, she was able to take brief control and retreated, fleeing into the woods.

Kaien was the one to follow her, though his captain and Rukia weren't far behind. He was determined to put down the Hollow in control of her, to avenge her pride. As it turned out, the Hollow had more surprises in store. It took possession of Kaien as well, forcing Ukitake to step in, though he, too, wound up failing (due to his illness, not a lack of strength or preparedness). When Hollow!Kaien came after Rukia, Kaien (like his wife before him) succeeded in maintaining enough control not to harm someone he loved, and impaled himself on Rukia's sword.

Rukia has always blamed herself for Kaien's death, despite the fact that it was Miyako's involvement that caused it, and this guilt has been a large factor for her throughout canon, including (arguably) her choice to give Ichigo her powers at the very beginning.

personality: In a nutshell, Miyako is one of the nicest people you'll ever meet. Not to say that she doesn't have her bad points, or that she isn't (at least capable of being) a bitch, just that you have to know her well to see any of that. (Or get on the wrong side of a fight.)

She's unpretentious, not the type to put on airs, and she greets the world with open arms. With strangers and friends alike, she's consistently considerate, generous and patient. She loves to help and to teach, making her an excellent role model and mother figure for many of the younger Thirteenth Division recruits.

While she's inherently somewhat shy, being a member of the Gotei 13 has helped her to overcome that; the more she rose in the ranks, the more she discovered people were looking to her for answers, assistance, advice and protection, so she learned to set aside her natural uncertainty in favour of courage. Her time as a third-seat has bolstered that courage with self-confidence, earned through years of continuing success as a Shinigami.

Also enhanced during her time at the Thirteenth Division was her inclination toward nurturing. Growing up, she always played the part of the big sister to her friends, and that carried on into adulthood, manifesting now as an occasionally overbearing tendency to be something of a mother hen.

It's easy to put a stop to that, though: Miyako is quick to give in when faced with any angry kind of conflict. She hates making people angry or upset, and it takes a lot of pressure to make her stand her ground in a serious emotional confrontation. Her emotions often get the better of her, which not only clouds her judgment at times, but is also the root of her tendency to shirk conflict.

When it comes to physical conflict, however, she rarely yields. She's brave in the face of danger, and still wears a brave face when she isn't. Most of this is because she's confident in her abilities as a Shinigami, as well as her Division's ability (read: her captain's ability, her husband's ability) to protect her, should the need arise. She's also not the type to question orders, even if she finds them reprehensible; she'll carry them out and she'll mourn over it later.

why do you feel this character would be appropriate to the setting? Miyako's job in her canon was essentially to vanquish monsters. This setting, with its beasts and bad mojo, won't exactly be a cake walk for her, but she'll definitely be capable of dealing with it.

Writing Samples

network post sample: There's a DM post here, but if that's not sufficient....

[ The feed seems to have accidentally gone live, since it opens to the corner of a table. It's a little unsteady for a bit, and eventually, you can hear a quiet voice in the background. ]

... Wait, 'video on?'

[ The view abruptly spins, and a young woman's face comes into focus, brows knit. ]

This technology isn't quite the same as what I'm accustomed to.

My name is Shiba Miyako, and... I'm not sure I'm supposed to be here. [ She pauses for a long moment, looking at something beyond the Forge, across the room. Unless this is some place you go after you die, which doesn't make any sense in conjunction with what she knows.... ] I don't remember coming here, at any rate. I just... woke up here.

If anyone could tell me where 'here' is, that might be a start. For now, I suppose I'll take a look around and be glad that Hollow's gone.

third person sample: Receiving no immediate response via the device, Miyako tucked it away and took a quick look around the room. Even the inside of it was unfamiliar; the architecture was distinctly Western and not modern, to boot. She felt supremely out of place in her shihakushou.

There wasn't much to see: the furniture was sparse, the decor unwelcoming in its absence. Soon enough, Miyako found herself at the lone window, opening it slowly. The air outside was less musty than the room, but it still had a strange, lingering scent, and it was cool and damp. There were people out there, though, people with spirit energy, and that fact alone was inherently comforting. It would be far worse to be the only one here, or to be surrounded by creatures she didn't recognize and couldn't feel. Even if the people outside weren't Shinigami, they were welcome.

She breathed the air deeply and slowly, waiting for her racing heart to calm. Her hands were trembling on the sill, but there was no one here to see them. Her patrol group was all dead. As far as she could recall, so was she — the last few moments in her memory weren't promising ones. If she closed her eyes, she could see them again, so she kept them open and gazed out at the city.

Not far away from the building she leaned out of, a stone archway towered over the people. Images flickered through its center, dizzying and as unfamiliar as the rest of it. Whatever that was, it made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

Still, the people were down there, and she wasn't getting any answers just sitting in this room, was she? She pulled the device from her kosode and examined it again. Nothing seemed to have changed yet. In her experience, waiting around for the things you needed rarely worked out. She'd waited for Kaien for years before she finally took things into her own hands, after all. Since then, she'd learned that many other things were much the same.

If she wanted an explanation, she'd have to go get one.

anything else? I hope it's not a problem that this app is in my temp journal and I posted the reserve with my main. (unsure) The info on this journal does mention that it belongs to

tokyocentricity, though.

PLAYER
Name: Cassie
Age: 21
Journal:

tokyocentricity
Best Method of Contact (AIM/EMAIL/PLURK): tokyocentricity@AIM, tokyocentricity@gmail, starfishing@plurk

CHARACTER
Name: Reno
Age: 25
Canon: Final Fantasy VII
History: Wiki!

Personality: The first thing most people see in Reno is the lightest part of him: the inner (and sometimes outer) dork, good-humoured and flippant, prone to saying stupid things and frequently making an ass of himself. There's a marked lack of common sense, completely unrelated to his actual intelligence. He takes offense easily, as he's very sensitive, but his reactions are often comical, and he isn't taken very seriously. Luckily, he doesn't hold grudges, so he's over it quickly — if it's a minor slight, he shrugs it off; if it's more serious, he gets mad, then he gets even.

With women, he tends to be flirtatious to the point of being inappropriate. He uses bad pick-up lines, and sometimes they work. One-night stands are a staple of his diet, since his work doesn't leave a lot of safe room for serious relationships (and who'd want one, anyway? Monogamy is for chumps). He can be combative with men, as either the cause or the result of his fondness for the ladies, and both of these things are magnified when he's drunk (which is occasionally, but only when he's not working).

Generally easygoing, reckless and adventurous, he comes off as that scamp of a puppy who's always chewing things up and peeing on the furniture: annoying and useless, but way too cute to get rid of.

Just barely beneath the surface of all of that, however, Reno's as serious as a heart attack. He's a consummate professional, talented in many fields, dedicated and responsible with a good head for leadership. He takes his work very seriously, even if he doesn't act like it, and (even if he doesn't act like it) some of the more unsavory aspects of his job can get to him sometimes. He'll get pensive, a little unhappy, but much like his anger, it doesn't last. He won't dwell on it, and being a natural optimist, he can't look at the dark side of things for long.

IN GAME

Brief In-Game History: Reno's mother was Bianca Sinclair, an Englishwoman living in Reggio Calabria, Italy, working as an escort. His father was presumably a client, though Bianca never bothered to find out. She actually went through with the pregnancy for the sole purpose of potentially making money from a private adoption; she got herself clean and sober for the duration, and gave birth to a healthy baby boy, whom she ultimately sold to a recruiter from the Mendolia family. It was set up as a legal adoption, and papers were signed preventing her from any legal recourse or further contact. Presumably, Bianca went on with her life.

Her son was used as an experimental subject by the Mendolia until the age of twelve. His childhood wasn't altogether miserable, but it was definitively loveless: he was treated as a guinea pig, effectively. It didn't ruin him as a person, so to speak, but the Reno Sinclair of today is a man who knows little of love and affection, and it shows in his personal relationships. He cares about others, but has a hard time showing it, and his romantic trysts are marked by a lack of either commitment or actual romance.

Aside from his role as a test subject, he was a relatively normal boy. He played with toy cars and planes and action figures, and liked cartoons and movies where people fought and things blew up. As he was showing promise for the perforare from a young age, he was consistently overexposed and desensitized to violence and death; he was expected to become one of the Mendolia's many talents, once he was old enough, so this was an essential part of the process.

At twelve years old, his skill with the perforare had reached a point where it could be developed by Reno alone. He continued to receive frequent physical and psychological evaluations, as most test subjects did, but the experiments themselves came to a stop. Reno continued to train, both physically and with the perforare, though he showed more of an affinity for basic physical training.

Through junior high and high school, Reno's focus on his training and studies took a blow in the form of hormones. His female classmates were enough to sufficiently distract him from anything else for a while. His weekends were soon being whiled away on dates and in the backseats of cars. This actually became something of a staple of his lifestyle, even as he got older.

His studies funneled abruptly as he entered highschool, narrowing his focus to the maths and sciences: physics, chemistry, calculus, algebra. These things would culminate in his eventual enrollment at a technical institute in Siracusa. He showed a penchant for mechanics, and came out of five years in college with a Master of Science in Mechanical Engineering, as well as an aptitude for piloting airplanes and helicopters (both skills he acquired via courses outside of college).

Now twenty-five, Reno has fulfilled most of the expectations the Family had for him, and is still loyal to the Mendolia. He has no reason not to be, as it's the only family he's ever known. Within the family, his roles include mechanical engineering and repair, enforcement, assassination and espionage. Outside of the family, he works as a mechanic at a garage in Caltagirone, and spends his free hours clubhopping.

Type of Bullet(s) Requested: Scortesia.
Abilities gained from bullets: Allows him to channel, amplify, project and absorb deadly amounts of electricity. There has to be an existing current; he isn't (yet?) capable of generating electricity on his own. Because of this, he carries a stun baton, which he uses as his primary weapon, and when he does utilize the perforare (which is fairly rare), it serves to generate the necessary current.

Famiglia: Mendolia.

SAMPLES
First Person: Here!

Third Person: The little helicopter only came apart in three pieces: the rotor, the body and the landing gear. The tail boom didn't even separate from the cockpit! Boring.

He tossed it aside, not even bothering to put it back together, and glanced at the television briefly as he picked up a promising-looking fighter jet. On the screen, a man's fingers were being broken, one at a time, while his wife and son — a boy about Reno's age — cowered in the corner, crying.

The top half of the jet's cockpit came off, and there was a tiny seat and tinier controls inside. Neat.

"Would you like me to turn the television off?"

Reno didn't look at the doctor. "I don't care." It wasn't bothering him, just occasionally distracting him from the toys.

"It doesn't bother you?"

"Nope." Reno set the jet down for a moment to put the helicopter back together.

"Do you think the man deserves to have his fingers broken?" the doctor pressed.

He thought about it. The boss doing the finger-breaking said something about 'give me the money.' "... Does he have the guy's money?"

"Yes."

"Well, yeah." Duh. You don't steal from your boss.

"What about his family?" asked the doctor.

Reno looked up at the screen again. The woman was covering the boy's eyes; the boy was shaking. He frowned a little. "The guy should just give him the money. It's his job to protect his family, right? Family's more important."

He knew he'd said something good when the doctor smiled, scribbling on his clipboard.

Player
Name: Cassie
Livejournal Username:

tokyocentricity
E-mail: tokyocentricity@gmail
AIM/MSN: tokyocentricity // AIM
Timezone: CST
Current Characters in Route: Sebastian Michaelis (Kuroshitsuji); Quistis Trepe (FFVIII)

Character
Name: Niou Masaharu
Series: Prince of Tennis
Timeline: Post-Nationals.
Canon Resource Links: Wiki!

Affiliation: Rocket! 8D

Personality: The most important thing to know about Niou is that what you see is by no means what you get. Niou is full of secrets and contradictions, and goes to great lengths to lie to, bewilder, confuse and hide himself from people.

On the outside, he's social, upbeat and witty with an off-beat, razor-sharp and occasionally childish sense of humour. He talks readily and at length, though not always politely, appropriately or even sensically. Everything is a joke, every moment a potential opening for some clever retort. He takes nothing too seriously, least of all himself, and he's always seeking attention in the worst ways. No sooner is one prank over than Niou's looking for the next bad decision to be made for amusement's sake.

Beneath that — and this is a part of Niou that few people are aware of or ever exposed to — Niou is highly intelligent, observant and analytical. He misses nothing, and he's always ten or twenty steps ahead of the next guy. All of his bad decisions are made with full understanding of the repercussions; he rarely acts or speaks before he thinks. Since so few people really know him, he sees himself as being essentially alone, and most of the people who consider themselves his friends are the people he considers acquaintances.

Strengths: Niou is a mathematical genius, a talent that he often applies for his own amusement — this knack for logic shines through in hobbies like speedsolving Rubik's cubes (and other puzzle cubes) and solving advanced sudoku puzzles. He's a master of disguise, able to imitate other people's body language, speech patterns, and even voices (another talent ill-applied). Over the years, he's also taught himself a number of card tricks and sleight-of-hand tricks; he's ambidextrous and has very nimble fingers, which assist him in pickpocketing, lockpicking, one-handed cube solving and cheating at numerous card games. (He's also a notorious card counter.)

Weaknesses: Kittens and cats. Niou has a marked weakness for felines. He detests going to the dentist (he'll put it off for days or weeks or months, if he can, regardless of tooth pain), and cannot cook or sing to save his life, not that it stops him from trying to do either. He's terrible at emotional confrontations; they make him uncomfortable, and he has trouble connecting with people on an emotional level. This sufficiently isolates him in a lot of respects, resulting in occasional bouts of low self-esteem and frustration.

Pokemon
Starter: Ditto, 'Sugar.'

Password: Deviled eggs! (In my family, we call them 'developed eggs,' because one of my cousins used to call them that when he was little. I actually grew up thinking they were called 'developed eggs,' up until I was, like... ten or eleven. xD;)

Samples
(Please note that both samples must take place in Route_29’s setting.)

First Person Sample: [ The audio clicks on to the sound of birds chirping and snow crunching. A bird chirps alarmingly close to the 'gear, followed by a young man's voice, mid-pitched with a lazy sort of drawl to it. ]

Talk about a change of pace. Guess I'm not complainin', though. I've got a friggin' Ditto. And this doesn't look like some dinky little hometown like Pallet or whatever, so we're off to a good start. And I have a Ditto.

... I swear to God, though, if I see that dumbass Rattata kid, I'm kickin' his ass. I'm not even kiddin'.

Did I mention the pimp-ass Ditto? Shit.

Third Person Sample: Niou awoke with a start and the unsettling feeling that he'd slept for far too long. Shit. What time was it?

Not only was there no clock on his bedside table, but there was no bedside table for the clock to be on, and this wasn't even his room. He scrambled out of bed, almost tripping on the sheets ensnaring his feet.

It wasn't a very big room, and there it was nearly barren. When he glanced around, though, his eyes caught on a nostalgically familiar red-and-white ball, balanced on top of some device on the desk.

"Is that a fucking Pokéball?" His voice echoed slightly off the bare walls.

Approaching the desk, he picked up the ball and then the device beneath it. This felt like one of those Escape the Room flash games he liked to waste time on at three in the morning. Maybe if he clicked around enough, he could find some clues as to what was going on.

And hopefully, the door wasn't locked.

It wasn't. There was a backpack on the bed, and a note nearby that looked a hell of a lot like a form letter with a photocopied signature on it. It also had a giant red R on the stationery.

Seriously? Team Rocket? This had to be some crazy-ass prank, except... who the hell would think up a prank like this? He would, that's who.

The note said to change into his uniform. Sure, Niou could play along. He changed clothes, stuffing his other ones in the bag, then grabbed the Pokéball and the device, shouldered the backpack and went to stick his head out the door. The hall was empty, but he followed it until he found stairs, which led up into a shop of some sort. The man there didn't even look twice at him.

Outside the shop was fresh air and snow, and some fat guy who tried to sell him something called a Rage Candy Bar. Niou lifted one when he wasn't looking. It tasted like manju.

Finally overcome by curiosity (and somewhat mollified that it wasn't going to explode or anything), Niou decided to toss the Pokéball.

When the light faded, an amorphous purple blob gelled itself around to look at him, blinking tiny dot eyes.

"Dit?"

Niou stared.

"No fucking way."

PLAYER
Name: Cassie
Age: 21
Journal:

tokyocentricity
Best Method of Contact (AIM/EMAIL/PLURK): AIM; tokyocentricity // tokyocentricity@gmail.

CHARACTER
Name: Sebastian Michaelis
Age: 24
Canon: Kuroshitsuji
History: Wiki! There's not much, though. Sebastian is an enigma wrapped in a charming little riddle.

Personality: The most important thing to know about Sebastian is that he always looks out for Number One. His interests come before anyone else's, and that includes people whom he likes (of which there aren't a great many). He sees himself as being superior to most other people, and therefore has little tolerance for their whims and troubles. He's quite unsympathetic, even frequently indulging in schadenfreude.

Sebastian possesses a great deal of pride - pride in his work, in his decorum, in his appearance, in his power - and it shows in spades. He has no reservations in accepting compliments, and any humble rebuff of praise is likely a false show of modesty. As a man with very high standards in all regards, he holds himself to high standards, as well, and accepts nothing less than perfection in his own work (luckily, he rarely, if ever, performs anything less).

On the outside, he appears to be polite, refined, patient and unassuming, and when the mood is right, witty, charismatic and charming. He even puts on an amiable, cheerful air, though the perceived incompetence of those around him often tries his patience to the point of seething temper. This enchanting, upbeat face is the first part of Sebastian that any stranger meets, and often, if they don't stay long, the only. Those who do become regular acquaintances might, in time, come to see some of Sebastian's less pleasant facets, such as his intolerance for failure and his infallible pride, but only those who become his enemies (and who generally don't survive long) are typically witness to his cold and merciless heart.

Sebastian cares so very little for the comfort, well-being or happiness of others that, when it suits him, he will go out of his way to be ruthlessly cruel, whether for business or pleasure. More often than not, this is done at the behest of his boss, but occasionally also of his own design. There are those who Sebastian actively dislikes (as opposed to the more neutral 'doesn't like'), who are generally the targets of this sort of behaviour.

On the other hand, when Sebastian finds someone to be fond of (a rare occurrence, considering his high standards), that same doggedness that he applies to everything else in his life becomes an earmark of loyalty. He will go to ludicrous lengths for a person that he truly cares about, and will go well out of his way to please them (though not so far as to tarnish his own ideals).

IN GAME
Brief In-Game History: Sebastian was born in France to a single mother, his father entirely absent from his life. As a young boy, he was generally indulged, though his mother was heavy-handed with punishment when it was necessary. He took ballet and violin lessons, and was frequently reprimanded for bringing home stray kittens (it is, was and always has been a distinct weakness for him). His childhood, as brief as it was, was a happy one.

When he was eight years old, his father, an Italian man with whom his mother had only had brief relations, reappeared with little explanation and the intention of reclaiming his son. Sebastian's mother fought him fiercely, but he would not be denied, and ultimately, he left her in the hospital and took Sebastian back to Italy with him.

Sebastian's father was Doriano Ravenna, the current — and only second — head of the rather small Amatore family. Sebastian was his second son; the first had been killed in some very unfortunate crossfire, and so Doriano was left to raise Sebastian in his place. He feared his own time as the head of the family was limited, so he leaned hard on the boy and hoped that his family would take care of the rest, should he die before Sebastian was properly old enough.

Under his father's harsh tuition, Sebastian grew disconsolate, moody and eventually hostile. He was unhappy in Italy, unhappy with his father and the new life he'd had thrust onto him, and he spared not his throat or his fists in letting anyone know it. For a few years, this was the way of things with the Amatore family. Sebastian was vocal and sullen by the time of his father's funeral when he was eleven years old. At this time, he was expected to assume his father's position as the family head.

Instead, he ran away. He made his way as far as Sicily, where he was eventually captured by the Mendolia for experimentation. Luckily, he never made it as far as becoming a subject. The car he was being transported in was hijacked by members of the La Guardia family, whose head was, himself, rather vocal about his distaste for the Mendolia's methods. Sebastian was rescued and taken in as a member of the La Guardia family, one of many orphans adopted by the seventh head, Vincent Phantomhive.

Sebastian was charged with looking after Vincent's then three-year-old son, Ciel. He initially resisted both this assignment and Vincent's inexplicable kindness, but his attitude withered under the attentions of Vincent, his wife, and his son, whose disposition was undeniably sunny. Eventually, surliness gave way to a quiet, yielding politeness and congeniality, which remains to this day, if largely as a thin veil for his temper.

He remained under the care of the La Guardia family for years, and it was there, with assistance from Vincent and the Family, that he learned two incredibly important things. The first important thing he learned was how to utilize the perforare. He had developed a talent for knife-throwing while with his father, and this became a base for his Scortesia ability. Use of the Ministro came more slowly, and is still somewhat difficult for him now.

The other important thing he learned was something he took to quickly and naturally: cooking. He began to learn when he was thirteen by watching (and occasionally interrogating) the Phantomhives' chef. By the time he was sixteen, he had taken the man's place as the family's primary chef, and took great pride and pleasure in it. He frequently spoiled little Ciel with desserts and pastries.

When Sebastian was twenty, things took a sharp turn for the unfortunate. The main house of the La Guardia family was burned to the ground while Vincent and his wife were inside. Both of them were presumed dead (though their bodies were never recovered), leaving the now twelve-year-old Ciel to head the La Guardia family. Four years later, Sebastian continues to look after Ciel as Vincent once instructed him to.

Type of Bullet(s) Requested: Scortesia and Ministro.

Abilities gained from bullets:
Scortesia - The throwing knives that Sebastian uses as his primary weapon become markers for a flame-based ability. By marking different shapes/symbols on or around a person or object, he can cause them to catch fire, explode, heat up, melt, or simply summon flames to that location.

Ministro - Any damage inflicted to Sebastian's person after being shot with the Ministro bullet (but before the Ministro's effects wear off) can be repaired, at the cost of Sebastian's energy. He's limited by both the time constraints and his own strength; if he tries to heal a wound that's too severe, he's likely to fall unconscious for up to a few days, depending on his existing injuries.

Famiglia: La Guardia.

SAMPLES
First Person: A thread from

route_29? (That would be canon!Sebastian turned effectively human, plus Pokémon. xD;)

Third Person: Sebastian awoke with a jolt when the car screeched to a halt. He scrambled to sit up, only to be blinded by the light suddenly pouring in from an open door. Hands reached in, grabbing him by the arms and hauling him bodily from the vehicle as he struggled.

There were gunshots, but the sound was so familiar to Sebastian by now that he wouldn't realize that he'd heard them until much later, replaying the scene in the safety of his new bedroom.

As the men dragged him from one car to the next, he could hear a voice ringing out above the others, above the gunfire. He couldn't make himself understand it until it was closer, though — right next to his ear, and a hand resting on top of his head. He spoke Italian, without any sort of foreign accent, and his voice was deep and smooth.

"You're safe now, boy." Over the din again, he ordered, "Get him in the car!"

Sebastian stumbled into the backseat, hands still bound, and retreated to the furthest corner he could, kicking at the men who had put him there. As far as he could tell, tied up in one car was the same as tied up in another, and he wasn't having any of it.

After just seconds more, a man slipped into the backseat with him, gun in hand, and called, "Let's go!" before he'd even shut the door properly. They tore out of there, Sebastian pressed against the opposite door when they took the next sharp corner.

When the sirens had begun to fade, the man turned to Sebastian with a warm, disarming smile. Fear was beginning to give way to simple uneasiness; Sebastian still didn't know where he was or who he was with, but he was beginning to think that this particular evil he didn't know might actually be better than the last.

The man reached out, slowly, to loosen the knot in the rope binding Sebastian's wrists together. "I'm Vincent Phantomhive," he said. "Welcome to the La Guardia family."

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Cassie ★

February 2016

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Cassie ★

Entries tagged with app

APP: Sherlock Holmes // Route

APP: Princess Celestia // Route

APP: Arthur Pendragon // Route

APP: Davesprite // Bridlewood

APP: Chitose Miyuki // Route

APP: Akutagawa Jirou // Reims

APP: Orphaner Dualscar // SH

APP: Dave Strider // Route

APP: Tavros Nitram // Cirque

APP: Vincent Phantomhive // Scorched

APP: Quistis Trepe // Scorched

APP: Rarity // Route

APP: William T. Spears // Mayfield

APP: Marco // Route

APP: Hiruma Youichi // Morire

APP: Vincent Phantomhive // Mayfield

APP: Shiba Miyako // Scorched

APP: Reno Sinclair // Morire

APP: Niou Masaharu // Route

APP: Sebastian Michaelis // Morire

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February 2016

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