sample application
sample application
OOC
Name: Jack of Diamonds
Contact: Check out the mod contact page.
Age: XX
Current characters: N/A
IC
Name: Loki
Fandom: Dirty Vegas
History link: If you have time, we can try to summarize the last few thousand years for you.
Canon point: After Ragnarok! So all that pesky eternal torture is over with, Heimdall and Odin and the rest are dead, and he's also less a wife. Sorry about that, Sigyn.
Personality: As a god of the Aesir and the jotunn, Loki is the living embodiment of primal forces that in many ways are entirely beyond human understanding. But on the other hand, just as the mortals of Midgard are fashioned in the image of the gods, so can we look at the gods and see traits that might be found in any human being.
And as far as these traits go... Loki is, first and foremost, smooth. Given enough time and resources -- and after all, he's a god, so both are in plentiful supply -- he could convince someone that day was night, or that all their shiny valuables would be better off in his possession. He's quick-witted, thinks on his feet, and always has a backup scheme in mind in case the first one goes wrong (and sometimes a backup for his backup!). And he has no qualms about using his wit to get himself ahead, where 'get himself ahead' usually = 'make fools out of the other gods and everyone around him'. If there's some opportunity that will get him a laugh, line his coffers, make him look good, make an enemy look bad, or just provide him with pleasure, you can bet he'll be right there manipulating everyone around him until he gets what he wants. He enjoys chaos, confusion, and molding that chaos to wrap the world around his little finger.
He's not entirely selfish nor completely evil, but the fact of the matter is, much of what Loki has perpetrated was done out of jealousy and spite. Sharing blood with the jotunn as he does -- the jotunn, giants who are sometimes uneasy allies of the Aesir but often their enemies -- he could never be completely accepted by his relatives among the Aesir gods, nor did they approve of his wild escapades or give him the proper respect for his wit that he's always felt he is due. In some ways he looked up to his Aesir counterparts and desired to be fully one of them, even trying to win their favor with acts like gifting his son, the horse Sleipnir, to Odin. But still the other gods could never bring themselves to entirely trust someone as shady as Loki, and so he remained an outsider, forced to the periphery to brood bitterly over the rejection by those who should have been his equals -- perhaps his inferiors, even. The murder of Baldr, too, was borne from this malicious sense of spite; how could someone like Baldr be allowed to exist, heralded and respected by the entire universe, while no one at all would give Loki a second glance? Even centuries of torturous punishment wasn't enough to make him feel sorry for taking out his frustrations on a blameless god -- it merely convinced him that he'd been an idiot to seek the friendship of Odin's band all those centuries, and that the Aesir needed to burn. When the time of Ragnarok arrived, he was only too glad to take up his own part in the battle and prove that he could outsmart anyone or anything in Asgard... even the ancient prophecies predicting his own death.
Powers/Abilities: He's a god, so... if you can think of it, he can probably do it. If you can't think of it, he can probably still do it. In particular, he's known for his masterful shapechanging skills -- shifting into female forms perfect enough to give birth in, for example -- and for being able to charm the pants off practically anybody in Midgard, Asgard, or any other world. He's also a skilled fighter and no slouch with a sword.
Prose sample:
(Note: This example happens not to include dialogue, but it's fine if yours does.)
There was nothing left.
Almost literally, nothing. The great seas and rivers and lakes had dried up, seared by the heat of some god's anger. The blue sky was choked gray with ash and debris; the land was bone-dry and covered in the brown, crumbling husks of dead plants, moved by nothing save the lonely whistling of the wind. The human cities lay in ruins all across Midgard -- from London to Tokyo to New York, monuments toppled and buildings blasted. The Sydney Opera House was a pile of debris on the tides now; the CN Tower had been bent in two. And yet there were not even corpses left, of either man or beast. The force and fury of the warring immortals had blown them all into dust.
It wasn't exactly what Loki had been expecting.
He'd been so damn proud of himself when he'd managed to circumvent his prophesied end at Ragnarok, leaving Heimdall dead on the steps of Bifrost while he himself had barely suffered a scratch. He'd had no need and no desire to go down with the ship next to all those high-and-mighty idiotic Aesir, after all. Why should following along with their stupid prophecy ever concern him? Him, Loki -- who they'd rejected and sneered at and then tortured for countless thousands of years, just because he'd dared to cause the death of some stupid useless puppy of a man? No, if they were all mad enough to want to end everything in a blaze of mindless destruction, they were welcome do it alone, he'd thought. All those nuisances could collectively get each other out of Loki's hair, and when the smoke cleared, that would leave him everything. A whole world, a whole universe, his for the taking.
But though the prophecy had said something about a man and a woman and a newborn world, there was nothing of the sort that he could see here. There was nothing at all in Midgard anymore, nothing besides death and ruins and dust. Had the Aesir gone and changed their minds? Were the prophesied humans, Lif and Lifthrasir, off toasting their good fortune in some heavenly hall somewhere?
Somehow, what he'd intended as his last and greatest trick of all had managed to backfire on him. And now, well...
Now he was bored. And there wasn't even anywhere proper to shack up, kick back and nurse his irritation over a cold mug of ale, since the whole world had been trashed. If he wanted to make himself a decent home in this blasted-out place, no matter where he went he was going to have to work, rather than just charming all his amenities out of the nearest gullible mortal. What a bother.
But if he was going to be stuck doing everything himself, where would be a good place to put down his roots?
Hmm, well. There was something to be said for the comforts of home, but--
Those bloodsucking mortals over in the Vegas casinos had always been so great at showing him a good time...
Links: http://this-game-doesnt-really-exist.livejournal.com/12345.html
OOC
Name: Jack of Diamonds
Contact: Check out the mod contact page.
Age: XX
Current characters: N/A
IC
Name: Loki
Fandom: Dirty Vegas
History link: If you have time, we can try to summarize the last few thousand years for you.
Canon point: After Ragnarok! So all that pesky eternal torture is over with, Heimdall and Odin and the rest are dead, and he's also less a wife. Sorry about that, Sigyn.
Personality: As a god of the Aesir and the jotunn, Loki is the living embodiment of primal forces that in many ways are entirely beyond human understanding. But on the other hand, just as the mortals of Midgard are fashioned in the image of the gods, so can we look at the gods and see traits that might be found in any human being.
And as far as these traits go... Loki is, first and foremost, smooth. Given enough time and resources -- and after all, he's a god, so both are in plentiful supply -- he could convince someone that day was night, or that all their shiny valuables would be better off in his possession. He's quick-witted, thinks on his feet, and always has a backup scheme in mind in case the first one goes wrong (and sometimes a backup for his backup!). And he has no qualms about using his wit to get himself ahead, where 'get himself ahead' usually = 'make fools out of the other gods and everyone around him'. If there's some opportunity that will get him a laugh, line his coffers, make him look good, make an enemy look bad, or just provide him with pleasure, you can bet he'll be right there manipulating everyone around him until he gets what he wants. He enjoys chaos, confusion, and molding that chaos to wrap the world around his little finger.
He's not entirely selfish nor completely evil, but the fact of the matter is, much of what Loki has perpetrated was done out of jealousy and spite. Sharing blood with the jotunn as he does -- the jotunn, giants who are sometimes uneasy allies of the Aesir but often their enemies -- he could never be completely accepted by his relatives among the Aesir gods, nor did they approve of his wild escapades or give him the proper respect for his wit that he's always felt he is due. In some ways he looked up to his Aesir counterparts and desired to be fully one of them, even trying to win their favor with acts like gifting his son, the horse Sleipnir, to Odin. But still the other gods could never bring themselves to entirely trust someone as shady as Loki, and so he remained an outsider, forced to the periphery to brood bitterly over the rejection by those who should have been his equals -- perhaps his inferiors, even. The murder of Baldr, too, was borne from this malicious sense of spite; how could someone like Baldr be allowed to exist, heralded and respected by the entire universe, while no one at all would give Loki a second glance? Even centuries of torturous punishment wasn't enough to make him feel sorry for taking out his frustrations on a blameless god -- it merely convinced him that he'd been an idiot to seek the friendship of Odin's band all those centuries, and that the Aesir needed to burn. When the time of Ragnarok arrived, he was only too glad to take up his own part in the battle and prove that he could outsmart anyone or anything in Asgard... even the ancient prophecies predicting his own death.
Powers/Abilities: He's a god, so... if you can think of it, he can probably do it. If you can't think of it, he can probably still do it. In particular, he's known for his masterful shapechanging skills -- shifting into female forms perfect enough to give birth in, for example -- and for being able to charm the pants off practically anybody in Midgard, Asgard, or any other world. He's also a skilled fighter and no slouch with a sword.
Prose sample:
(Note: This example happens not to include dialogue, but it's fine if yours does.)
There was nothing left.
Almost literally, nothing. The great seas and rivers and lakes had dried up, seared by the heat of some god's anger. The blue sky was choked gray with ash and debris; the land was bone-dry and covered in the brown, crumbling husks of dead plants, moved by nothing save the lonely whistling of the wind. The human cities lay in ruins all across Midgard -- from London to Tokyo to New York, monuments toppled and buildings blasted. The Sydney Opera House was a pile of debris on the tides now; the CN Tower had been bent in two. And yet there were not even corpses left, of either man or beast. The force and fury of the warring immortals had blown them all into dust.
It wasn't exactly what Loki had been expecting.
He'd been so damn proud of himself when he'd managed to circumvent his prophesied end at Ragnarok, leaving Heimdall dead on the steps of Bifrost while he himself had barely suffered a scratch. He'd had no need and no desire to go down with the ship next to all those high-and-mighty idiotic Aesir, after all. Why should following along with their stupid prophecy ever concern him? Him, Loki -- who they'd rejected and sneered at and then tortured for countless thousands of years, just because he'd dared to cause the death of some stupid useless puppy of a man? No, if they were all mad enough to want to end everything in a blaze of mindless destruction, they were welcome do it alone, he'd thought. All those nuisances could collectively get each other out of Loki's hair, and when the smoke cleared, that would leave him everything. A whole world, a whole universe, his for the taking.
But though the prophecy had said something about a man and a woman and a newborn world, there was nothing of the sort that he could see here. There was nothing at all in Midgard anymore, nothing besides death and ruins and dust. Had the Aesir gone and changed their minds? Were the prophesied humans, Lif and Lifthrasir, off toasting their good fortune in some heavenly hall somewhere?
Somehow, what he'd intended as his last and greatest trick of all had managed to backfire on him. And now, well...
Now he was bored. And there wasn't even anywhere proper to shack up, kick back and nurse his irritation over a cold mug of ale, since the whole world had been trashed. If he wanted to make himself a decent home in this blasted-out place, no matter where he went he was going to have to work, rather than just charming all his amenities out of the nearest gullible mortal. What a bother.
But if he was going to be stuck doing everything himself, where would be a good place to put down his roots?
Hmm, well. There was something to be said for the comforts of home, but--
Those bloodsucking mortals over in the Vegas casinos had always been so great at showing him a good time...
Links: http://this-game-doesnt-really-exist.livejournal.com/12345.html