exit void app;;
player.
NAME/HANDLE: Len
PERSONAL JOURNAL: singing_monk
ARE YOU 16 OR OVER?: Yes.
CONTACT: John sit down (AIM)
OTHER CHARACTERS: None.
character.
CHARACTER NAME: Clubs Deuce
SERIES: Homestuck. And Deuce's page.
CANON POINT: Just before Slick pries open the vault.
AGE: Unknown.
APPEARANCE: Here he is.
PREVIOUS GAME HISTORY: None.
PERSONALITY: While the other members of the Midnight Crew fit the mold of hard-edged mobsters fairly well, Deuce sticks out from the group like a sore thumb. He appears to hold no particular interest in keeping an iron grip over the city or other typical gang activities outside of pleasing the other members of the crew. In fact, he seems to have an almost childlike naivete regarding nearly everything he encounters in life, from clocks to rival gangs. It takes an actual gun being pointed at him (both literally and figuratively) for Deuce to realize there's serious danger about in a real sense.
As you can probably imagine, he's more than a little dense. Deuce is very eager to please anybody he considers a friend, but he has difficulty actually accomplishing any of the tasks set out before him both because of his habit of taking things too literally and his godawful memory. No matter how important the information imparted to him is, eventually (and usually at a critical moment) it will slip through the numerous cracks in his mind. He's unable to remember his own actions (which cards correspond to which items) as well as the instructions of others (bring explosives to Hearts Boxcars); this doesn't seem to impede his dubious effectiveness as a member of a notorious gang, however, as Deuce is also fairly lucky. He has a habit for blundering into situations that turn out in his favor, all without every being aware of it.
People rarely take Deuce seriously, as both physically and mentally he doesn't outwardly pose much of a threat. However he's the team's demolition man for a reason, and all that good luck usually means he accidentally appears to be more intelligent than he probably is (Fin believed Deuce to be a criminal mastermind thanks to a series of coincidences). Deuce never even notices people talking down to him as the Midnight Crew doesn't sugarcoat things even for their own members, and so carries on with whatever he was doing without a thought. In this way it's very difficult to get him down, as he either doesn't recognize being insulted or won't remember it in ten minutes.
For all his foibles, however, Deuce is incredibly loyal. He's stuck with the other members of the Midnight Crew since their exile from Derse, and seems to have no qualms about putting up with their unstable personalities. He carries out orders from them without a second thought, even if more often than not he forgets what he was attempting to do halfway through. Although his memory is shit, Deuce displays a dogged determination to continue trying to do his best and make everyone proud of him. He'll keep coming back until whatever the job was is done, god dammit.
ABILITIES: Deuce doesn't have any particularly notable ability beyond being the crew's demolitions expert; despite his absent-minded nature he's the go-to guy for blowing shit sky high. As a carapace it's likely he's a little more durable than the average human given his hard skin. He can also play a pretty mean oboe.
POSSESSIONS: Deuce owns a deck of cards which double as his Battledrobe, where all of his possessions are stored. Each card in his deck also doubles as another item - some of these items are a plethora of explosive devices, the Crook of Felony, a backup hat, a Stretch Armstrong doll, a baseball bat, an issue of Black Inches magazine, a pistol, and a Bull Penis Cane.
samples.
JOURNAL ENTRY SAMPLE: Hopefully this is acceptable.
THIRD-PERSON SAMPLE:
Deuce breathes in nervously, looking up at the massive radio tower above him. It had seemed a simple enough plan when they made it over breakfast that morning - teach an upstart broadcast program a thing or two about badmouthing the Midnight Crew by taking out their main beacon of communication. Practically child's play, Droog had said. They'd be done in time to hit one of the diners that never seemed to close on the way home and grab a bite to eat.
A later dinner was the furthest thing from Deuce's mind now as he stood up (maybe a little too up, he mused, at least all by himself) on the roof, spool of detonation wire in hand. There really was no going about it any other way; he was going to have to climb the tower if he wanted to place the explosives correctly.
It wasn't that he was afraid of heights. Like most things, they never really registered enough to bother him to any significant degree. It was more that he was petrified of getting halfway up and forgetting something vital, like how many charges he'd set or where the rendezvous place was, or why he was up here to begin with.
Wait. Why was he up here?
In the dully bewildered sort of way that he'd grown accustomed to over the years, Deuce looks down at the detonation wire in his hands. A job, then. Probably. Unless he was up here to play a joke? It was always so hard to tell when explosives were involved, given the nature of his friends.
He knew that Slick would be mad, but it was probably for the best that he checked in before doing anything rash. Slick being mad was a hell of a lot better than Slick being angry, which when dealing with the illustrious head of the Midnight Crew were two completely different things. Guy had rage down to a delicate art form.
With a small sigh of disappointment (he'd been trying so hard to remember things this week) he sets down the coil of wire and fumbles for the walkie-talkie, finding the correct card on the fourth try. Time to face the proverbial music.
"Hey, Boss? Um. Can I ask you a quick question...?"
NAME/HANDLE: Len
PERSONAL JOURNAL: singing_monk
ARE YOU 16 OR OVER?: Yes.
CONTACT: John sit down (AIM)
OTHER CHARACTERS: None.
character.
CHARACTER NAME: Clubs Deuce
SERIES: Homestuck. And Deuce's page.
CANON POINT: Just before Slick pries open the vault.
AGE: Unknown.
APPEARANCE: Here he is.
PREVIOUS GAME HISTORY: None.
PERSONALITY: While the other members of the Midnight Crew fit the mold of hard-edged mobsters fairly well, Deuce sticks out from the group like a sore thumb. He appears to hold no particular interest in keeping an iron grip over the city or other typical gang activities outside of pleasing the other members of the crew. In fact, he seems to have an almost childlike naivete regarding nearly everything he encounters in life, from clocks to rival gangs. It takes an actual gun being pointed at him (both literally and figuratively) for Deuce to realize there's serious danger about in a real sense.
As you can probably imagine, he's more than a little dense. Deuce is very eager to please anybody he considers a friend, but he has difficulty actually accomplishing any of the tasks set out before him both because of his habit of taking things too literally and his godawful memory. No matter how important the information imparted to him is, eventually (and usually at a critical moment) it will slip through the numerous cracks in his mind. He's unable to remember his own actions (which cards correspond to which items) as well as the instructions of others (bring explosives to Hearts Boxcars); this doesn't seem to impede his dubious effectiveness as a member of a notorious gang, however, as Deuce is also fairly lucky. He has a habit for blundering into situations that turn out in his favor, all without every being aware of it.
People rarely take Deuce seriously, as both physically and mentally he doesn't outwardly pose much of a threat. However he's the team's demolition man for a reason, and all that good luck usually means he accidentally appears to be more intelligent than he probably is (Fin believed Deuce to be a criminal mastermind thanks to a series of coincidences). Deuce never even notices people talking down to him as the Midnight Crew doesn't sugarcoat things even for their own members, and so carries on with whatever he was doing without a thought. In this way it's very difficult to get him down, as he either doesn't recognize being insulted or won't remember it in ten minutes.
For all his foibles, however, Deuce is incredibly loyal. He's stuck with the other members of the Midnight Crew since their exile from Derse, and seems to have no qualms about putting up with their unstable personalities. He carries out orders from them without a second thought, even if more often than not he forgets what he was attempting to do halfway through. Although his memory is shit, Deuce displays a dogged determination to continue trying to do his best and make everyone proud of him. He'll keep coming back until whatever the job was is done, god dammit.
ABILITIES: Deuce doesn't have any particularly notable ability beyond being the crew's demolitions expert; despite his absent-minded nature he's the go-to guy for blowing shit sky high. As a carapace it's likely he's a little more durable than the average human given his hard skin. He can also play a pretty mean oboe.
POSSESSIONS: Deuce owns a deck of cards which double as his Battledrobe, where all of his possessions are stored. Each card in his deck also doubles as another item - some of these items are a plethora of explosive devices, the Crook of Felony, a backup hat, a Stretch Armstrong doll, a baseball bat, an issue of Black Inches magazine, a pistol, and a Bull Penis Cane.
samples.
JOURNAL ENTRY SAMPLE: Hopefully this is acceptable.
THIRD-PERSON SAMPLE:
Deuce breathes in nervously, looking up at the massive radio tower above him. It had seemed a simple enough plan when they made it over breakfast that morning - teach an upstart broadcast program a thing or two about badmouthing the Midnight Crew by taking out their main beacon of communication. Practically child's play, Droog had said. They'd be done in time to hit one of the diners that never seemed to close on the way home and grab a bite to eat.
A later dinner was the furthest thing from Deuce's mind now as he stood up (maybe a little too up, he mused, at least all by himself) on the roof, spool of detonation wire in hand. There really was no going about it any other way; he was going to have to climb the tower if he wanted to place the explosives correctly.
It wasn't that he was afraid of heights. Like most things, they never really registered enough to bother him to any significant degree. It was more that he was petrified of getting halfway up and forgetting something vital, like how many charges he'd set or where the rendezvous place was, or why he was up here to begin with.
Wait. Why was he up here?
In the dully bewildered sort of way that he'd grown accustomed to over the years, Deuce looks down at the detonation wire in his hands. A job, then. Probably. Unless he was up here to play a joke? It was always so hard to tell when explosives were involved, given the nature of his friends.
He knew that Slick would be mad, but it was probably for the best that he checked in before doing anything rash. Slick being mad was a hell of a lot better than Slick being angry, which when dealing with the illustrious head of the Midnight Crew were two completely different things. Guy had rage down to a delicate art form.
With a small sigh of disappointment (he'd been trying so hard to remember things this week) he sets down the coil of wire and fumbles for the walkie-talkie, finding the correct card on the fourth try. Time to face the proverbial music.
"Hey, Boss? Um. Can I ask you a quick question...?"