(no subject)
Second to last round aaaand it's a counselor one! ♥ ALSO Sian's batch is still open so vote on that if you haven't already.
Remember!
- Applicants, respond anonymously.
- If you're going to do the whole "ask me why I voted you out!" thing, please state who you voted out.
- No speculating about the identity of the applicants!
Now VOTE. GOOD ENOUGH FOR ME. Closed!
Name: Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad
Age: Late 20s
Fandom: Assassin’s Creed
Job: Eagle Scout Master
Canon: The Assassin Order lives to keep the peace in a time of war and crusades. Their creed is to harm no innocents, not be seen and never risk the brotherhood. All lessons which Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad must learn the hard way when he breaks all three tenants and is demoted from Master Assassin to Novice as punishment. In order to redeem himself Altaïr is sent out to kill nine dangerous men who start to change his world view with their dying breaths. Armed with experience and knowledge worthy of being passed down to assassins for generations to come Altaïr takes it upon himself to try and change the future of the brotherhood of assassins.
Altaïr is a very dedicated and serious man who takes his job very much to heart. His experiences in gaining his rank back humbled him deeply, though he does still retain most of his self confidence, it’s earned rather than assumed. He is extremely driven, both by his creed and his own sense of self worth. Which isn’t to say he lacks a sense of humor, but work always comes before levity. Never very talkative, Altaïr tends to be very straightforward and somewhat blunt with people. He also has very little patience for other people’s foolishness. But he is an assassin through and through and even if his words can be sharp, he won’t hurt anyone who doesn’t deserve it.
Sample Post:
I am calling this assembly of Eagle Scouts to order, which means I expect all of you to stop talking now. That includes moaning, you on the end. It is not easy to believe that scouts as advanced as you should be would need to be told to hold your tongues when your master addresses you. Nor should you take that so literally, take your hands from your mouths. I am willing to forgive you this once since I am still learning myself. Just once. After this I will have to start reclaiming the badges you worked so hard to earn until you show the proper respect. Yes, I would be upset over that prospect if I were in your position. However, crying will not solve your problems. Either pull yourself together, fetch a bucket or remove yourself.
I can only assume that you have some kind of training, considering yours is the highest rank a scout can attain. You may find my standards to be higher than those of your previous master. My job from here on is to asses that training and see that you follow it. No exemptions for those of you missing an arm or a leg. I will hope only that whatever lessons cost you so dearly were well learned and leave it at that. Now tell me, what is the scout’s creed? … It seems our first order of business is to learn the scout’s creed. I can see some of you find humor in this, but I see only disgrace. There is no excuse for not knowing the single rule you should all live by! Perhaps this first task I have for you will be an opportunity to teach you something your many old wounds obviously did not.
When your former master left, he gave little in the way of instructions. The only remaining assigned task for you is a “Weenie Roast”. It sounds barbaric, but I will not question another scout master when I have not so much as met him. Instead, all of you will bring me more information. I wish to know this Weenie, his habits, his hiding spots, his goals, his weaknesses. Be thorough, I want to know what this Weenie is made of. Only then will I be able to say for certain that this man should roast at our hands. Consider this an opportunity to prove your worth and uphold the ways of the scout.
Keep calm and follow the creed.
Poll Vote!
Character Name: Legion
Series: Mass Effect
Character Age: Complicated Counsellor
Job: Resident Existentialist
Canon: Mass Effect is the epic space odyssey surrounding Commander Shepard, the starship Normandy, and its ragtag crew of underdogs, composed of aliens and humans alike. In the first installment, the crew of the Normandy set out to defeat a rogue Spectre (Special Tactics and Reconnaissance) agent, Saren Arterius. Two years after their success against Saren, Shepard is recruited by a human supremacist organization known as Cerberus for the purpose of defeating the Collectors, a mysterious race kidnapping humans from colonies all over the galaxy. Shepard accepts the dangerous mission and recruits a crew once more, consisting of both old, new, and flashlight faces. Legion is both a new and a flashlight face.
Legion is a member of the robotic geth race as well as being loyal to Shepard, and is consequently full of contradictions. Legion is not simply one being, but is instead the gestalt consciousness formed by 1,183 geth programs inhabiting a unique geth "mobile platform,” or robot body. Though all the other geth Shepard has met have been openly hostile to organic life, Legion is eager to ally itself with Shepard, as they share a mutual goal. Although Legion is entirely inorganic in nature, it definitely has a personality--introspective, wise, occasionally naive about organic life and practice--and even uses facial expression to convey emotion, even though he doesn’t have a face per se. Legion is not only an expert sniper and loyal crew member, but also a bit of a philosopher, often asking questions about the nature of life to which humans have yet to find a good answer. It therefore makes for a fascinating conversationalist, unless it’s busy playing the Mass Effect version of World of Warcraft, in which case it is silent.
Note: Legion’s mode of speech tends to be stilted, doing the bare minimum to link facts together. It also uses the royal “we” to refer to itself. Also, geth often “integrate with” (read: hack into) other inorganics to gain information.
Sample:
5:01 PM Central Standard Time. The United States of America. Planet Earth. We arrived alone in the center of a false agricultural complex. The crops are organic life--the livestock is not. We attempted to integrate with one of the livestock platforms, but were impeded by several malfunctioning organics. The organics claimed it was "against the rules." We did not argue. Inciting incident so early on in reconnaissance would be unwise.
5:04 PM Central Standard Time. Same location. We came across a colony of primitive organics in the center of the false agricultural complex. We did not attempt contact, instead scanning the buildings for signs of relevant technology. Local wireless signals were weak, slow, but provided insight in local culture. Most common searches include pictures of young felines and human pornographic material.
5:09 PM Central Standard Time. Same location. We have discovered that the livestock platform from the field has followed us into the colony. We attempted verbal contact instead of integration. We had many questions, including "What is the purpose of a livestock platform?" "Are you inhibited from achieving higher consciousness due to the inspiration behind your physical form?" and "If a livestock platform lows in the middle of the field, and there are no other beings around to hear it, does it record its sound for later examination?" The platform did not answer. We believe it is attempting to analyze data, and present us with its answer later.
5:11 PM Central Standard Time. Same location. We are attempting to form a consensus regarding the nature of this colony. It does not have logical parameters, and its inhabitants range from frustrated to accepting of their imprisonment. Organics are solitary beings, individual consciousnesses separated from other intelligences by their self-sufficient forms. It is difficult to see organics as anything but imprisoned in such closed bodies. However, they prize personal freedoms over nearly everything else. We will attempt to form a consensus with regard to this question.
11:43 AM Central Standard Time. Same location. We are unable to form a consensus on the contradictory nature of organic life, regarding internal and external imprisonment. A small organic child called this geth platform "creepy." When next we attempt to find answers about organics, it is possible that standing in public is not recommended.
Poll Vote!
Character Name: Logan / Wolverine
Series: X-Men (film series)
Character Age: Over 150, but looks to be in his thirties
Job: Defense Against Things Blowing Up Instructor (...Substitute)
Canon: Evolution - it takes a while. At least that’s normally the case, but every so often, evolution decides it’s not waiting around and wants to do something awesome RIGHT NOW. And so, mutants are born: people with special powers and attributes that set them apart from the rest of humanity, often painfully so. In a world of prejudice and fear, mutants must find their own path, whether it be the hard line of mutant supremacy, or the more peaceful route of co-existence and understanding. Xavier’s Institute for Gifted Youngsters takes the latter approach, giving young mutants a place to live, learn, and occasionally go out and fight high stakes, explosion-laden battles.
Logan, a fast-healing mutant with unbreakable metal grafted to his skeleton, has lived a long and exciting life. It’s just a shame he can’t remember most of it. Suffering from complete amnesia of anything before fifteen years ago, Logan lead a solitary, rough-and-tumble existence until he met Professor Charles Xavier, who offered him the chance to find out what happened to him, and why he has metal claws attached to his skeleton. Not exactly a team player, Logan is often rude and dismissive of most people he meets. He’s not really one to champion ideals, but he can recognise a good thing when he sees it, so he (occasionally, when he drifts through) joins Xavier’s team of X-Men despite his more abrasive attitude. Logan isn’t all jerk, however; he has a softer side to him and usually tries to do the right thing. He just may shank you and call you a dick if you get in the way of that.
Sample Post:
Okay, let me just set the record straight here before we do anything else. I am not sticking around. This is purely a filling-in thing; that Director of yours collared me when I was on my way through, asked if I wouldn’t mind teaching you a couple of lessons while they sort out who your next instructor’s gonna be. So sure, fine, I have some time to kill. Not the kind of thing I would’ve thought normally got taught to kids, but maybe I’m just out of touch with the normal school system. It works well enough for us, and with a name like Camp Fuck You Die, I’m betting it’ll work for you too. Nice morale booster you’ve got there.
So this’ll be a lesson on basic explosion survival. I don’t know how good your last guy was, but since he apparently got crushed to death by that ferris wheel out in the fields... well, that doesn’t actually tell me jack about his teaching style. But he didn’t die in an explosion, so that’s one point in his favour. First thing’s first: don’t go near explosions. Yeah, that sounds obvious, but you all look kind of slack-jawed to me so I’m going to say it anyway. Best way to not get hurt by an explosion is to stay the hell away from them. And put your hand down, Ugly, I’m not done yet. Yes you will sometimes get into a situation where shit blows up. I saw enough idiots trying to light dead cows on fire on the way in that it’s bound to happen sooner or later. I don’t care how bored you are, or whether that’s just how things go down on the farm, along with cow-tipping and godawful skin problems. Yeah, I mean you. If you wave your arm around again and your skin finally rips off, don’t come crying to me about it.
One thing you’ve got going for you is a lot of open spaces. Something explodes in a cornfield, you’re not going to get a lot of flying shrapnel tearing you a new hole where you don’t want one. If pulling corn bits out of your ass for a week is the worst of your problems, then well done. You pass. Still, most’ve you look like a strong wind would tear your arms off, so here’s what you do if an explosion hits you. Don’t jump into the damn air like a hero, you’ll end up face-first in the dirt, or worse, into the arms of those touchy-feely gorillas. And you’ll look stupid. You’re better off hitting the ground and trying to roll with it. If you’re lucky the shockwave won’t rattle the teeth out of your skull - any of you that still have them, anyway. But it’ll carry the force of it and before you know it, you’ll be back to doing whatever it is you kids do around here. Ignoring your personal health and avoiding come-ons from the silo monster, is my guess.
The last thing is, if you’re gonna be in an explosive environment, you need to wear something a bit stronger than rags and whatever’s left of your skin. Go get some new clothes, body armour, tear pieces off the barn and strap ‘em on - I don’t care. Anything between you and fiery death is a plus. Just don’t follow Flakey over there’s example and start wearing the skin of the guy next to you. That’s just uncalled for; and I’m not explaining that to your parents, even if it is covered on Camp permission slips.
Okay, kids. Consider yourselves taught. I’m done.
Poll Vote!
Character: Lorna Dane (Polaris)
Series: Exiles (Her home universe is Earth-8149)
Character Age: Early 20s?
Job: Dentist
Canon: "Would you kill a genocidal maniac if you could go back in time to before he was a genocidal maniac?" Exiles poses that question, but to be quite honest it doesn't give its heroes much choice in the matter. In Exiles, teams of six heroes are grabbed by the Timebroker right before their deaths and sent off on merry adventures to fix realities. It's pretty much "do this job or you can go back home where you're dead." Equipped with only their skills and a moderately-helpful-world-hopping-device called the Tallus (that delivers its prerogative in short, not terribly useful demands like "overthrow machines") the Exiles fight crime. Or become crime. Whichever is helps the world out the most.
Lorna Dane is one of the newer Exiles. Also known as Polaris (and in almost every reality, Magneto's other daughter), she shares her father's ability to manipulate magnetic fields. Unlike her father, Polaris doesn't have a hard-on for mutant supremacy. Lorna has a good sense of humor and gets along well with others. She's friendly and doesn't mind joking around even in heavy situations. She has a bit of the big sister attitude to her -- bro-ing it up but when shit gets real, shit gets real and she might punch your face off.
Sample Post
I don't want anyone to get the wrong idea here, but my name is Lorna Dane and I am not at all qualified for this job. In fact, I am pretty sure that this isn't my kind of gig at all. I've loosened some teeth before, but that wasn't really on purpose. Well, okay, that one time I hit that guy in the face that was on purpose, but the other times were more graceful accidents, all right? There are just some things you don't do where I'm from, and when you cross that line you get hit in the face. Only occasionally with a bus, but it was handy and when you have a face that big ... sorry. Can we start over? I'm not usually this nervous but the whole world hopping job assignment and endless field of the undead has gotten me a little jumpy.
Hey, I'm Lorna and I'm one of your new counselors. You can also call me Polaris if you want, I answer to both. Usually I don't announce myself, but after spending a few hours wandering around in a cornfield I thought this might be most efficient. My job here is apparently as the camp dentist. I haven't really figured that part out yet. I mean, if you've got some fillings that need touched up or removed I'm sure I could do something for you. It would just probably hurt a lot and you might end up looking more like an ex-boxer than you want to. But if anyone is up for that, I guess I can offer my services to you.
Anyway, since I am pretty sure no one is going to take me up on the dental offer ... do you mind helping me out with a little side project? I'm looking for something that's related to a riddle. Not for any particular reason ... well, you could think of it as a crossword puzzle. An apocalyptic themed crossword puzzle where the hint is "Riddle". So, if you can think of anything that would have to do with worlds ending or realities getting destroyed, just let me know, all right? Thanks.
Poll Vote!
Character: Takano Miyo
Series: Higurashi no Naku koro ni.
Character Age: Late-twenties to early-thirties range.
Job: Neurosurgeon
Canon: The mountain village of Hinamizawa. Secluded deep in the Japanese countryside, its peaceful exterior hides its roots as a village founded by demons who were cast out of human society. Hinamizawa's bloody history is set in dark contrast to its modern day tranquility. Tranquility that is only offset by the gruesome murders and kidnappings that occur every year that leave the police baffled and searching for clues that may or may not exist.
Among the native rural folk is a health clinic staffed by people from the city who moved to the village to ensure it had access to modern health care and medical equipment. One such person is Takano Miyo, the calm and professional nurse at the clinic. Although Takano Miyo has lived in the village as its nurse for only a relatively few years, she has established herself as a dependable young woman. Takano always has a smile for everyone, and enjoys a good chat. Especially if she manages to swing the conversation to her favorite topic: curses. Specifically the macabre history of Hinamizawa itself. The details of how the town's founders performed torture on outsiders who dared to enter their village are facts that Takano Miyo is happy to share with those few unfamiliar with them, whether they like it or not. She also enjoys making the odd joke, which she insists is all in good fun. Even if she happens to be the only one enjoying it.
(Major spoilers hidden under the blank text.)
Takano Miyo is the mastermind behind the series of murders that occur every year in Hinamizawa. Although posing as a nurse, she is actually a neuroscientist working for a secret government agency to cultivate and study a rare brain disorder that is found only within the village. She is an obsessed woman without morals who cares only about her research. Allowing Takano Miyo to perform brain surgery on you would be unwise.
Sample Entry:
A long long time ago, in the vast cornfields of North America's Midwest, there lied a small farming town. The people were industrious in everything they did, and yet they could not sustain themselves by their own means. Appeals to the heavens went unanswered. Eventually they chose to turn to more... unorthodox means of survival. In the manner of old Faust, they used ancient rituals to contact beings no mortal should ever encounter. With them they exchanged generations of wealth and prosperity in return for a curse. After this period of good harvest, they would befall ruin never before experienced. Famine, plague, and the destruction of their beloved town. In this misery, they would not die, but wander the fields forevermore. A cold existence frozen between life and death. Even if their feet and legs were to grind to dust from the wandering, they would still drag themselves by their arms and teeth. The only relief from such an existence? Forceful removal of the brain, now infected with disease, from the rest of the body. The mind being the temple of the spirit, only separation from this organ would allow their souls to escape their forms and find peace. What little peace could be found for them, that is.
Which brings me to the subject of you, my dear patient. Surely you realized this story must have basis in reality? I know this because I can see it reflected in what is left of your face. Your symptoms: shortness of breath, skin irritation, and decrease in motor functions leads me to believe you suffer from this curse. You poor creature. A strong human being such as yourself reduced to mindlessness and suffering. How fortunate then, that you ran into me. Not only do I have the experience to recognize this, but also the tools necessary to deal with it. Specifically, a sharp scalpel, my steady hands, and various drilling implements. I can begin the treatment right away; no waiting required on your part.
The first step is to produce a hole in the skull. I must give you my appreciation in performing this step for me, dear patient. But I fear you may have been over enthusiastic to the point of recklessness. While it certainly makes my job easier, it does leave me with less material to work with. No matter. Next I shall remove the infected part of the brain. Ah, in this case the entirety of it must be snipped just above the brain stem. I am predicting this will set you, dear patient, on the road to the fullest recovery you could hope to achieve. My role here ends, as does yours. Farewell.
The procedure done, my former patient's brain (estimated at about one and a quarter kilograms) is rapidly cooling in my hands. The results? Undetermined. An unexplained and utterly unique illness in a secluded wilderness with a sparse population of considerably diminished mental ability did strike me as rather fitting to my talents. Yet this is clearly a situation that goes beyond normal scientific investigation methods. If this does not get results I need for proper analysis, I'll simply have to become more creative in how I go about my brain surgery. It should not be too difficult to find new and better ways to perform. After all, it's not rocket science, is it?
Poll Vote!
Character: Jean-Luc Picard
Canon: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Age: 60
Job: Head polisher
Canon: In the 24th Century, the United Federation of Planets relies on its military branch, Starfleet, to seek out new life and new civilisations, to boldly -- well, you probably know the rest. Starfleet's mission is exploration, but they also fight, when necessary, to defend the Federation against various threats.
Jean-Luc Picard is the captain of Starfleet's flagship, the Enterprise. He's wise, experienced, and believes in diplomacy before aggression. However, his combat skills are excellent, and when words are not enough, he'll kick heads with the best of them. Picard is cerebral, and intellectual, and confident in his ability to deal with any situation with his own skills plus the skills of those around him.
Sample post:
Greetings, friends. I'm delighted to be here to assist in this most difficult negotiation. I must admit I have no previous experience of your group's issues, but I have considerable diplomatic experience. I assisted during leadership challenges on Q'onos, I resolved issues with the Jarada, I was once required to talk all four legs off an Arcturan Megadonkey, and I also was able to assist in the epic, involved negotiations with Planet Sesame over whether a cookie is a sometimes food.
So. Let me summarise. Your people have an issue with decomposing body parts, and let me assure you I have the utmost sympathy for your plight. Those of you on the left prefer to reattach severed limbs with glue. Those on the right prefer to use tape. I am most impressed with the creativity and the clarity of purpose shown by the signs you have forged using construction paper and your own bodily fluids, avowing TAPE or GLUE. You should be proud of yourselves.
I have worked with leaders of both sides now for several of your days, in workshops, surveys, seminars, and even a symposium. Speakers have included doctors, joiners, butchers, bakers, and the occasional candlestick maker. We believe we have a third solution. One that honours both ideologies, yet provides for a way forward. This third choice involves thread.
I realise this will be something of a challenge for all of you. I ask you to trust me, and when I say that please know that I will remain amongst your people for as long as it takes for this new philosophy to take hold. A Starfleet officer does not give up. A Starfleet officer assists for as long as is necessary. A trial period will be instigated with consultation; please do not fear that we will move ahead without feedback from you. But please try this. I promise it will be worthwhile.
Please, good people. Do not use TAPE, or GLUE. Make it SEW.
Poll Vote!
Remember!
- Applicants, respond anonymously.
- If you're going to do the whole "ask me why I voted you out!" thing, please state who you voted out.
- No speculating about the identity of the applicants!
Now VOTE. GOOD ENOUGH FOR ME. Closed!
Name: Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad
Age: Late 20s
Fandom: Assassin’s Creed
Job: Eagle Scout Master
Canon: The Assassin Order lives to keep the peace in a time of war and crusades. Their creed is to harm no innocents, not be seen and never risk the brotherhood. All lessons which Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad must learn the hard way when he breaks all three tenants and is demoted from Master Assassin to Novice as punishment. In order to redeem himself Altaïr is sent out to kill nine dangerous men who start to change his world view with their dying breaths. Armed with experience and knowledge worthy of being passed down to assassins for generations to come Altaïr takes it upon himself to try and change the future of the brotherhood of assassins.
Altaïr is a very dedicated and serious man who takes his job very much to heart. His experiences in gaining his rank back humbled him deeply, though he does still retain most of his self confidence, it’s earned rather than assumed. He is extremely driven, both by his creed and his own sense of self worth. Which isn’t to say he lacks a sense of humor, but work always comes before levity. Never very talkative, Altaïr tends to be very straightforward and somewhat blunt with people. He also has very little patience for other people’s foolishness. But he is an assassin through and through and even if his words can be sharp, he won’t hurt anyone who doesn’t deserve it.
Sample Post:
I am calling this assembly of Eagle Scouts to order, which means I expect all of you to stop talking now. That includes moaning, you on the end. It is not easy to believe that scouts as advanced as you should be would need to be told to hold your tongues when your master addresses you. Nor should you take that so literally, take your hands from your mouths. I am willing to forgive you this once since I am still learning myself. Just once. After this I will have to start reclaiming the badges you worked so hard to earn until you show the proper respect. Yes, I would be upset over that prospect if I were in your position. However, crying will not solve your problems. Either pull yourself together, fetch a bucket or remove yourself.
I can only assume that you have some kind of training, considering yours is the highest rank a scout can attain. You may find my standards to be higher than those of your previous master. My job from here on is to asses that training and see that you follow it. No exemptions for those of you missing an arm or a leg. I will hope only that whatever lessons cost you so dearly were well learned and leave it at that. Now tell me, what is the scout’s creed? … It seems our first order of business is to learn the scout’s creed. I can see some of you find humor in this, but I see only disgrace. There is no excuse for not knowing the single rule you should all live by! Perhaps this first task I have for you will be an opportunity to teach you something your many old wounds obviously did not.
When your former master left, he gave little in the way of instructions. The only remaining assigned task for you is a “Weenie Roast”. It sounds barbaric, but I will not question another scout master when I have not so much as met him. Instead, all of you will bring me more information. I wish to know this Weenie, his habits, his hiding spots, his goals, his weaknesses. Be thorough, I want to know what this Weenie is made of. Only then will I be able to say for certain that this man should roast at our hands. Consider this an opportunity to prove your worth and uphold the ways of the scout.
Keep calm and follow the creed.
Poll Vote!
Character Name: Legion
Series: Mass Effect
Character Age: Complicated Counsellor
Job: Resident Existentialist
Canon: Mass Effect is the epic space odyssey surrounding Commander Shepard, the starship Normandy, and its ragtag crew of underdogs, composed of aliens and humans alike. In the first installment, the crew of the Normandy set out to defeat a rogue Spectre (Special Tactics and Reconnaissance) agent, Saren Arterius. Two years after their success against Saren, Shepard is recruited by a human supremacist organization known as Cerberus for the purpose of defeating the Collectors, a mysterious race kidnapping humans from colonies all over the galaxy. Shepard accepts the dangerous mission and recruits a crew once more, consisting of both old, new, and flashlight faces. Legion is both a new and a flashlight face.
Legion is a member of the robotic geth race as well as being loyal to Shepard, and is consequently full of contradictions. Legion is not simply one being, but is instead the gestalt consciousness formed by 1,183 geth programs inhabiting a unique geth "mobile platform,” or robot body. Though all the other geth Shepard has met have been openly hostile to organic life, Legion is eager to ally itself with Shepard, as they share a mutual goal. Although Legion is entirely inorganic in nature, it definitely has a personality--introspective, wise, occasionally naive about organic life and practice--and even uses facial expression to convey emotion, even though he doesn’t have a face per se. Legion is not only an expert sniper and loyal crew member, but also a bit of a philosopher, often asking questions about the nature of life to which humans have yet to find a good answer. It therefore makes for a fascinating conversationalist, unless it’s busy playing the Mass Effect version of World of Warcraft, in which case it is silent.
Note: Legion’s mode of speech tends to be stilted, doing the bare minimum to link facts together. It also uses the royal “we” to refer to itself. Also, geth often “integrate with” (read: hack into) other inorganics to gain information.
Sample:
5:01 PM Central Standard Time. The United States of America. Planet Earth. We arrived alone in the center of a false agricultural complex. The crops are organic life--the livestock is not. We attempted to integrate with one of the livestock platforms, but were impeded by several malfunctioning organics. The organics claimed it was "against the rules." We did not argue. Inciting incident so early on in reconnaissance would be unwise.
5:04 PM Central Standard Time. Same location. We came across a colony of primitive organics in the center of the false agricultural complex. We did not attempt contact, instead scanning the buildings for signs of relevant technology. Local wireless signals were weak, slow, but provided insight in local culture. Most common searches include pictures of young felines and human pornographic material.
5:09 PM Central Standard Time. Same location. We have discovered that the livestock platform from the field has followed us into the colony. We attempted verbal contact instead of integration. We had many questions, including "What is the purpose of a livestock platform?" "Are you inhibited from achieving higher consciousness due to the inspiration behind your physical form?" and "If a livestock platform lows in the middle of the field, and there are no other beings around to hear it, does it record its sound for later examination?" The platform did not answer. We believe it is attempting to analyze data, and present us with its answer later.
5:11 PM Central Standard Time. Same location. We are attempting to form a consensus regarding the nature of this colony. It does not have logical parameters, and its inhabitants range from frustrated to accepting of their imprisonment. Organics are solitary beings, individual consciousnesses separated from other intelligences by their self-sufficient forms. It is difficult to see organics as anything but imprisoned in such closed bodies. However, they prize personal freedoms over nearly everything else. We will attempt to form a consensus with regard to this question.
11:43 AM Central Standard Time. Same location. We are unable to form a consensus on the contradictory nature of organic life, regarding internal and external imprisonment. A small organic child called this geth platform "creepy." When next we attempt to find answers about organics, it is possible that standing in public is not recommended.
Poll Vote!
Character Name: Logan / Wolverine
Series: X-Men (film series)
Character Age: Over 150, but looks to be in his thirties
Job: Defense Against Things Blowing Up Instructor (...Substitute)
Canon: Evolution - it takes a while. At least that’s normally the case, but every so often, evolution decides it’s not waiting around and wants to do something awesome RIGHT NOW. And so, mutants are born: people with special powers and attributes that set them apart from the rest of humanity, often painfully so. In a world of prejudice and fear, mutants must find their own path, whether it be the hard line of mutant supremacy, or the more peaceful route of co-existence and understanding. Xavier’s Institute for Gifted Youngsters takes the latter approach, giving young mutants a place to live, learn, and occasionally go out and fight high stakes, explosion-laden battles.
Logan, a fast-healing mutant with unbreakable metal grafted to his skeleton, has lived a long and exciting life. It’s just a shame he can’t remember most of it. Suffering from complete amnesia of anything before fifteen years ago, Logan lead a solitary, rough-and-tumble existence until he met Professor Charles Xavier, who offered him the chance to find out what happened to him, and why he has metal claws attached to his skeleton. Not exactly a team player, Logan is often rude and dismissive of most people he meets. He’s not really one to champion ideals, but he can recognise a good thing when he sees it, so he (occasionally, when he drifts through) joins Xavier’s team of X-Men despite his more abrasive attitude. Logan isn’t all jerk, however; he has a softer side to him and usually tries to do the right thing. He just may shank you and call you a dick if you get in the way of that.
Sample Post:
Okay, let me just set the record straight here before we do anything else. I am not sticking around. This is purely a filling-in thing; that Director of yours collared me when I was on my way through, asked if I wouldn’t mind teaching you a couple of lessons while they sort out who your next instructor’s gonna be. So sure, fine, I have some time to kill. Not the kind of thing I would’ve thought normally got taught to kids, but maybe I’m just out of touch with the normal school system. It works well enough for us, and with a name like Camp Fuck You Die, I’m betting it’ll work for you too. Nice morale booster you’ve got there.
So this’ll be a lesson on basic explosion survival. I don’t know how good your last guy was, but since he apparently got crushed to death by that ferris wheel out in the fields... well, that doesn’t actually tell me jack about his teaching style. But he didn’t die in an explosion, so that’s one point in his favour. First thing’s first: don’t go near explosions. Yeah, that sounds obvious, but you all look kind of slack-jawed to me so I’m going to say it anyway. Best way to not get hurt by an explosion is to stay the hell away from them. And put your hand down, Ugly, I’m not done yet. Yes you will sometimes get into a situation where shit blows up. I saw enough idiots trying to light dead cows on fire on the way in that it’s bound to happen sooner or later. I don’t care how bored you are, or whether that’s just how things go down on the farm, along with cow-tipping and godawful skin problems. Yeah, I mean you. If you wave your arm around again and your skin finally rips off, don’t come crying to me about it.
One thing you’ve got going for you is a lot of open spaces. Something explodes in a cornfield, you’re not going to get a lot of flying shrapnel tearing you a new hole where you don’t want one. If pulling corn bits out of your ass for a week is the worst of your problems, then well done. You pass. Still, most’ve you look like a strong wind would tear your arms off, so here’s what you do if an explosion hits you. Don’t jump into the damn air like a hero, you’ll end up face-first in the dirt, or worse, into the arms of those touchy-feely gorillas. And you’ll look stupid. You’re better off hitting the ground and trying to roll with it. If you’re lucky the shockwave won’t rattle the teeth out of your skull - any of you that still have them, anyway. But it’ll carry the force of it and before you know it, you’ll be back to doing whatever it is you kids do around here. Ignoring your personal health and avoiding come-ons from the silo monster, is my guess.
The last thing is, if you’re gonna be in an explosive environment, you need to wear something a bit stronger than rags and whatever’s left of your skin. Go get some new clothes, body armour, tear pieces off the barn and strap ‘em on - I don’t care. Anything between you and fiery death is a plus. Just don’t follow Flakey over there’s example and start wearing the skin of the guy next to you. That’s just uncalled for; and I’m not explaining that to your parents, even if it is covered on Camp permission slips.
Okay, kids. Consider yourselves taught. I’m done.
Poll Vote!
Character: Lorna Dane (Polaris)
Series: Exiles (Her home universe is Earth-8149)
Character Age: Early 20s?
Job: Dentist
Canon: "Would you kill a genocidal maniac if you could go back in time to before he was a genocidal maniac?" Exiles poses that question, but to be quite honest it doesn't give its heroes much choice in the matter. In Exiles, teams of six heroes are grabbed by the Timebroker right before their deaths and sent off on merry adventures to fix realities. It's pretty much "do this job or you can go back home where you're dead." Equipped with only their skills and a moderately-helpful-world-hopping-device called the Tallus (that delivers its prerogative in short, not terribly useful demands like "overthrow machines") the Exiles fight crime. Or become crime. Whichever is helps the world out the most.
Lorna Dane is one of the newer Exiles. Also known as Polaris (and in almost every reality, Magneto's other daughter), she shares her father's ability to manipulate magnetic fields. Unlike her father, Polaris doesn't have a hard-on for mutant supremacy. Lorna has a good sense of humor and gets along well with others. She's friendly and doesn't mind joking around even in heavy situations. She has a bit of the big sister attitude to her -- bro-ing it up but when shit gets real, shit gets real and she might punch your face off.
Sample Post
I don't want anyone to get the wrong idea here, but my name is Lorna Dane and I am not at all qualified for this job. In fact, I am pretty sure that this isn't my kind of gig at all. I've loosened some teeth before, but that wasn't really on purpose. Well, okay, that one time I hit that guy in the face that was on purpose, but the other times were more graceful accidents, all right? There are just some things you don't do where I'm from, and when you cross that line you get hit in the face. Only occasionally with a bus, but it was handy and when you have a face that big ... sorry. Can we start over? I'm not usually this nervous but the whole world hopping job assignment and endless field of the undead has gotten me a little jumpy.
Hey, I'm Lorna and I'm one of your new counselors. You can also call me Polaris if you want, I answer to both. Usually I don't announce myself, but after spending a few hours wandering around in a cornfield I thought this might be most efficient. My job here is apparently as the camp dentist. I haven't really figured that part out yet. I mean, if you've got some fillings that need touched up or removed I'm sure I could do something for you. It would just probably hurt a lot and you might end up looking more like an ex-boxer than you want to. But if anyone is up for that, I guess I can offer my services to you.
Anyway, since I am pretty sure no one is going to take me up on the dental offer ... do you mind helping me out with a little side project? I'm looking for something that's related to a riddle. Not for any particular reason ... well, you could think of it as a crossword puzzle. An apocalyptic themed crossword puzzle where the hint is "Riddle". So, if you can think of anything that would have to do with worlds ending or realities getting destroyed, just let me know, all right? Thanks.
Poll Vote!
Character: Takano Miyo
Series: Higurashi no Naku koro ni.
Character Age: Late-twenties to early-thirties range.
Job: Neurosurgeon
Canon: The mountain village of Hinamizawa. Secluded deep in the Japanese countryside, its peaceful exterior hides its roots as a village founded by demons who were cast out of human society. Hinamizawa's bloody history is set in dark contrast to its modern day tranquility. Tranquility that is only offset by the gruesome murders and kidnappings that occur every year that leave the police baffled and searching for clues that may or may not exist.
Among the native rural folk is a health clinic staffed by people from the city who moved to the village to ensure it had access to modern health care and medical equipment. One such person is Takano Miyo, the calm and professional nurse at the clinic. Although Takano Miyo has lived in the village as its nurse for only a relatively few years, she has established herself as a dependable young woman. Takano always has a smile for everyone, and enjoys a good chat. Especially if she manages to swing the conversation to her favorite topic: curses. Specifically the macabre history of Hinamizawa itself. The details of how the town's founders performed torture on outsiders who dared to enter their village are facts that Takano Miyo is happy to share with those few unfamiliar with them, whether they like it or not. She also enjoys making the odd joke, which she insists is all in good fun. Even if she happens to be the only one enjoying it.
(Major spoilers hidden under the blank text.)
Takano Miyo is the mastermind behind the series of murders that occur every year in Hinamizawa. Although posing as a nurse, she is actually a neuroscientist working for a secret government agency to cultivate and study a rare brain disorder that is found only within the village. She is an obsessed woman without morals who cares only about her research. Allowing Takano Miyo to perform brain surgery on you would be unwise.
Sample Entry:
A long long time ago, in the vast cornfields of North America's Midwest, there lied a small farming town. The people were industrious in everything they did, and yet they could not sustain themselves by their own means. Appeals to the heavens went unanswered. Eventually they chose to turn to more... unorthodox means of survival. In the manner of old Faust, they used ancient rituals to contact beings no mortal should ever encounter. With them they exchanged generations of wealth and prosperity in return for a curse. After this period of good harvest, they would befall ruin never before experienced. Famine, plague, and the destruction of their beloved town. In this misery, they would not die, but wander the fields forevermore. A cold existence frozen between life and death. Even if their feet and legs were to grind to dust from the wandering, they would still drag themselves by their arms and teeth. The only relief from such an existence? Forceful removal of the brain, now infected with disease, from the rest of the body. The mind being the temple of the spirit, only separation from this organ would allow their souls to escape their forms and find peace. What little peace could be found for them, that is.
Which brings me to the subject of you, my dear patient. Surely you realized this story must have basis in reality? I know this because I can see it reflected in what is left of your face. Your symptoms: shortness of breath, skin irritation, and decrease in motor functions leads me to believe you suffer from this curse. You poor creature. A strong human being such as yourself reduced to mindlessness and suffering. How fortunate then, that you ran into me. Not only do I have the experience to recognize this, but also the tools necessary to deal with it. Specifically, a sharp scalpel, my steady hands, and various drilling implements. I can begin the treatment right away; no waiting required on your part.
The first step is to produce a hole in the skull. I must give you my appreciation in performing this step for me, dear patient. But I fear you may have been over enthusiastic to the point of recklessness. While it certainly makes my job easier, it does leave me with less material to work with. No matter. Next I shall remove the infected part of the brain. Ah, in this case the entirety of it must be snipped just above the brain stem. I am predicting this will set you, dear patient, on the road to the fullest recovery you could hope to achieve. My role here ends, as does yours. Farewell.
The procedure done, my former patient's brain (estimated at about one and a quarter kilograms) is rapidly cooling in my hands. The results? Undetermined. An unexplained and utterly unique illness in a secluded wilderness with a sparse population of considerably diminished mental ability did strike me as rather fitting to my talents. Yet this is clearly a situation that goes beyond normal scientific investigation methods. If this does not get results I need for proper analysis, I'll simply have to become more creative in how I go about my brain surgery. It should not be too difficult to find new and better ways to perform. After all, it's not rocket science, is it?
Poll Vote!
Character: Jean-Luc Picard
Canon: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Age: 60
Job: Head polisher
Canon: In the 24th Century, the United Federation of Planets relies on its military branch, Starfleet, to seek out new life and new civilisations, to boldly -- well, you probably know the rest. Starfleet's mission is exploration, but they also fight, when necessary, to defend the Federation against various threats.
Jean-Luc Picard is the captain of Starfleet's flagship, the Enterprise. He's wise, experienced, and believes in diplomacy before aggression. However, his combat skills are excellent, and when words are not enough, he'll kick heads with the best of them. Picard is cerebral, and intellectual, and confident in his ability to deal with any situation with his own skills plus the skills of those around him.
Sample post:
Greetings, friends. I'm delighted to be here to assist in this most difficult negotiation. I must admit I have no previous experience of your group's issues, but I have considerable diplomatic experience. I assisted during leadership challenges on Q'onos, I resolved issues with the Jarada, I was once required to talk all four legs off an Arcturan Megadonkey, and I also was able to assist in the epic, involved negotiations with Planet Sesame over whether a cookie is a sometimes food.
So. Let me summarise. Your people have an issue with decomposing body parts, and let me assure you I have the utmost sympathy for your plight. Those of you on the left prefer to reattach severed limbs with glue. Those on the right prefer to use tape. I am most impressed with the creativity and the clarity of purpose shown by the signs you have forged using construction paper and your own bodily fluids, avowing TAPE or GLUE. You should be proud of yourselves.
I have worked with leaders of both sides now for several of your days, in workshops, surveys, seminars, and even a symposium. Speakers have included doctors, joiners, butchers, bakers, and the occasional candlestick maker. We believe we have a third solution. One that honours both ideologies, yet provides for a way forward. This third choice involves thread.
I realise this will be something of a challenge for all of you. I ask you to trust me, and when I say that please know that I will remain amongst your people for as long as it takes for this new philosophy to take hold. A Starfleet officer does not give up. A Starfleet officer assists for as long as is necessary. A trial period will be instigated with consultation; please do not fear that we will move ahead without feedback from you. But please try this. I promise it will be worthwhile.
Please, good people. Do not use TAPE, or GLUE. Make it SEW.
Poll Vote!