app for pradeda
Your Name: Tiki
Contact: AIM: theroarmaster | Plurk: griffoner
LiveJournal: kranna_tiki
Timezone: PST
Do you have other characters in this game? nope
Character
Name: Tallahassee
Fandom: Zombieland
Age: early 40's
Physical description: [link]
Background: The movie wiki page sums up the film pretty nicely. Naturally, Tallahassee’s chosen alias implies a connection to Tallahassee, Florida, and his pre-movie background can be summed up in the following:
Tallahassee used to enjoy a nice, suburban life with his wife and young son, Buck (presumably a nickname). However, he lost it all in the ensuing zombie apocalypse. Ruined and grieving, he channeled everything into a massive vendetta against zombies, left what was left of his home, and hit the road in search of revenge, although he claims (and will continue to claim) that he’s really and only searching for the last Twinkies on Earth.
Point in Story: Right before he and Columbus wake up and discover that the girls have ditched them at Bill Murray’s house
Personality: Tallahassee claims he “enjoys the little things”, and by “little things” he usually means random violence. In fact, it’s fairly easy to just write him off as a single-minded man whose goal in life is to kick (zombie) ass and to kick ass as flamboyantly as possible, someone who’s all brawn and no brains.
Actually, it’s all just the best way that he survives. He trusts no one: he refuses to use his real name to discourage attachment and always keeps some sort of weapon on his person. He shows no fear, since fear would imply weakness, and translates nervous energy into the showy bravado that defines his character. He’s creative and thinks fast on his feet, allowing him to deal with spur-of-the-moment situations and adapt as quickly as he can. Most of the time, he looks like he’s flying by the seat of his pants (and most of the time, he is), but the trick with Tallahassee is that it’s all controlled chaos. He finds a concrete goal and sticks with it; the details can be figured out as he goes along. This can make working with him frustrating (especially since he doesn’t seem to bother with sharing his thought processes), but that hardly bothers him - in fact, he readily admits to being difficult to get along with - since Tallahassee is also keenly aware of the importance of self-preservation before all else.
Even so, Tallahassee strangely enough doesn’t take very long to open up. Shortly after meeting Columbus he tells him misleadingly about “Buck”, the mysterious puppy he left behind; days later, he’s showing pictures of the real Buck: his son. He coaches Little Rock on the finer points of sharp-shooting and takes a vested interest in the details of Hannah Montana not too long after the girl and her sister con him and Columbus out of their transportation and weapons. It’s curious that someone who claims to adamantly discourage relationships would break his own rules so quickly (or maybe this is just a film timeline being a film timeline), and that hints that deep down inside, he’s a lot softer than he claims to be - a throwback, maybe, to how he used to be before the zombie apocalypse. In fact, it’s easy to picture Tallahassee pre-Zombieland as an all-American sort of person who prized and embodied such classic values as self confidence, athleticism, ingenuity, and hard work - and his post-Zombieland self as the super-inflation of all of those, from his overeager enthusiasm for killing zombies (hard work) to his slightly deranged sense of creativity (ingenuity).
He’s also a bit of a fanboy about Bill Murray and shamelessly admits to crying when he watched Titanic, so Tallahassee does not lack for a sense of humor - or for a romantic streak for that matter.
And of course, he also has his quirks. The most prominent one is his obsession with Twinkies; he’s declared eating the last Twinkie in the world to be his life’s purpose. This obsession in fact ties in to his other noticeable quirk: his tendency for childish behavior. Although he’s a grown man, Tallahassee acts more like a kid than a mature adult; he gets into as many scrapes as he possibly can, motivates himself through relishing the prospect of junk food, enjoys wanton destruction and chaos, speaks his mind regardless of tact, and most of all…throws legitimate temper tantrums (see: vandalizing cars and grocery stores). Kids tend to see the world in much simpler terms than adults, and that may be why Tallahassee enjoys emulating them. Really thinking about reality - the fact that he’s alone, that his family was destroyed, that it’s him against most of the world, that every day has to be a fight - would probably crush him, so it’s much easier to treat the world like a video game where the flashiest kill wins, where he’s the Lone Ranger, and where he can chase after a silly thing like a Twinkie.
And then there’s also the possibility that he really did snap a long time ago, but he’s not about to waste time debating that; he’d rather use his brain power for the stuff that’s real and that’s right in front of him, thanks.
Powers/Abilities: Tallahassee has no otherworldly abilities or powers, but he does have a lot of creativity when it comes to dealing with problems, mostly of the something-is-trying-to-kill-me variety. He has been able to turn everything from garden clippers to a bowling ball (if the youtube shorts are anything to go by) into some sort of weapon of zombie destruction, and he seems to relish challenges.
He is also a fantastic shot.
Items you're bringing with you: Just the clothes on his back, his wallet (complete with cute kid pictures), and a Winchester 1892 “Mare’s Leg”
Samples
First Person POV (Network Post):
[The communicator clicks on just in time to catch the tail end of a rather vivid string of curses that sound like they’re being mumbled.]
--worst motherfuckin’ piece of shit device that I ever touched in my life. Jesus, what the fuck is this, Star Trek? I swear, I will find whoever decided makin’ these buttons so fuckin’ small was a good idea and shove this up their - Oh hell, that little light means it’s on, doesn’t it...
[awkward pause]
Well shit.
[There’s another brief, awkward pause and then he clears his throat and speaks a little more loudly.]
Just a sound check, folks. Everything’s workin’ just fine, live long and prosper, systems are go, all that good stuff. Carry, ah, carry on.
[He salutes too for effect, but of course no one can see that.]
Third Person POV (Log Post):
(adapted from a sample used in a previous app)
The way he walked into the Vons, he might as well have been Clint Eastwood, all swagger and badass, just the way he liked it. He lived for these kinds of moments, where it was just him and the enemy, him and those ugly, undead sons of bitches. Got the blood roaring, the adrenalin going…and most of all, made that de-licious Twinkie waiting for him in these holy aisles all the greater.
Of course, some might think his reasons for actively seeking out danger rash at best, but that was the way he liked them. Spilling blood on the hour and living in the moment were the things he knew, and if he knew anything, in Zombieland you had to do copious amounts of both. There was no room for deep, introspective thoughts about one’s existence; that was called “daydreaming”, and to be caught daydreaming typically equated to death, frankly speaking.
A little rap on the produce shelf beside him led him to Cowpoke the First, slobbering away and lurching worse than his first car. You feelin’ lucky, punk? Classic. He pushed the brim of his hat up and spat on the tiles. And then, just like that, smooth as could be, he pulled the flamethrower out from behind his back, aimed the nozzle just so, and squeezed the ignition.
Fire wasn’t enough to bring down zombies-he’d learned this watching some punks get their asses eaten by some flaming undead shit-but it was the thought that counted. It was the artistry of watching their eyeballs burst from the heat and ooze down their face, of hearing them moan and gnash their teeth and writhe and squirm. And then they would charge out of the flames, flesh and clothing afire, thinking they’d caught their second wind. Well, pretending they could think.
Tallahassee admired his masterpiece in the making for a split second, and then it was back to business. He tossed the flamethrower over his shoulder, took a step back, and grabbed the first thing he could get his hands on: a watermelon, one of those miniature ones that they sold for people who were too lazy to lug the regular ones home. It was rotten by now, but he’d never used rotten watermelons before; there was a first time for everything.
One smooth stroke: he still had the old windup. He swung the melon up behind his shoulder and launched it forward like Josh Johnson had back in the day for the Marlins, smiling with satisfaction as it collided head on with his target’s face. And then a spin - he’d been working on this spinning draw - as he drew the Mare’s Leg from its holster at his hip and followed it up with a bullet right between the eyes. And another, for good measure and for good old double-tap.
A tug of the hat, a quick breath to scatter the smoke curling up from the tip, and then he was off, eyes on fire, mouth curved into a vicious grin.
Make my day!
Contact: AIM: theroarmaster | Plurk: griffoner
LiveJournal: kranna_tiki
Timezone: PST
Do you have other characters in this game? nope
Character
Name: Tallahassee
Fandom: Zombieland
Age: early 40's
Physical description: [link]
Background: The movie wiki page sums up the film pretty nicely. Naturally, Tallahassee’s chosen alias implies a connection to Tallahassee, Florida, and his pre-movie background can be summed up in the following:
Tallahassee used to enjoy a nice, suburban life with his wife and young son, Buck (presumably a nickname). However, he lost it all in the ensuing zombie apocalypse. Ruined and grieving, he channeled everything into a massive vendetta against zombies, left what was left of his home, and hit the road in search of revenge, although he claims (and will continue to claim) that he’s really and only searching for the last Twinkies on Earth.
Point in Story: Right before he and Columbus wake up and discover that the girls have ditched them at Bill Murray’s house
Personality: Tallahassee claims he “enjoys the little things”, and by “little things” he usually means random violence. In fact, it’s fairly easy to just write him off as a single-minded man whose goal in life is to kick (zombie) ass and to kick ass as flamboyantly as possible, someone who’s all brawn and no brains.
Actually, it’s all just the best way that he survives. He trusts no one: he refuses to use his real name to discourage attachment and always keeps some sort of weapon on his person. He shows no fear, since fear would imply weakness, and translates nervous energy into the showy bravado that defines his character. He’s creative and thinks fast on his feet, allowing him to deal with spur-of-the-moment situations and adapt as quickly as he can. Most of the time, he looks like he’s flying by the seat of his pants (and most of the time, he is), but the trick with Tallahassee is that it’s all controlled chaos. He finds a concrete goal and sticks with it; the details can be figured out as he goes along. This can make working with him frustrating (especially since he doesn’t seem to bother with sharing his thought processes), but that hardly bothers him - in fact, he readily admits to being difficult to get along with - since Tallahassee is also keenly aware of the importance of self-preservation before all else.
Even so, Tallahassee strangely enough doesn’t take very long to open up. Shortly after meeting Columbus he tells him misleadingly about “Buck”, the mysterious puppy he left behind; days later, he’s showing pictures of the real Buck: his son. He coaches Little Rock on the finer points of sharp-shooting and takes a vested interest in the details of Hannah Montana not too long after the girl and her sister con him and Columbus out of their transportation and weapons. It’s curious that someone who claims to adamantly discourage relationships would break his own rules so quickly (or maybe this is just a film timeline being a film timeline), and that hints that deep down inside, he’s a lot softer than he claims to be - a throwback, maybe, to how he used to be before the zombie apocalypse. In fact, it’s easy to picture Tallahassee pre-Zombieland as an all-American sort of person who prized and embodied such classic values as self confidence, athleticism, ingenuity, and hard work - and his post-Zombieland self as the super-inflation of all of those, from his overeager enthusiasm for killing zombies (hard work) to his slightly deranged sense of creativity (ingenuity).
He’s also a bit of a fanboy about Bill Murray and shamelessly admits to crying when he watched Titanic, so Tallahassee does not lack for a sense of humor - or for a romantic streak for that matter.
And of course, he also has his quirks. The most prominent one is his obsession with Twinkies; he’s declared eating the last Twinkie in the world to be his life’s purpose. This obsession in fact ties in to his other noticeable quirk: his tendency for childish behavior. Although he’s a grown man, Tallahassee acts more like a kid than a mature adult; he gets into as many scrapes as he possibly can, motivates himself through relishing the prospect of junk food, enjoys wanton destruction and chaos, speaks his mind regardless of tact, and most of all…throws legitimate temper tantrums (see: vandalizing cars and grocery stores). Kids tend to see the world in much simpler terms than adults, and that may be why Tallahassee enjoys emulating them. Really thinking about reality - the fact that he’s alone, that his family was destroyed, that it’s him against most of the world, that every day has to be a fight - would probably crush him, so it’s much easier to treat the world like a video game where the flashiest kill wins, where he’s the Lone Ranger, and where he can chase after a silly thing like a Twinkie.
And then there’s also the possibility that he really did snap a long time ago, but he’s not about to waste time debating that; he’d rather use his brain power for the stuff that’s real and that’s right in front of him, thanks.
Powers/Abilities: Tallahassee has no otherworldly abilities or powers, but he does have a lot of creativity when it comes to dealing with problems, mostly of the something-is-trying-to-kill-me variety. He has been able to turn everything from garden clippers to a bowling ball (if the youtube shorts are anything to go by) into some sort of weapon of zombie destruction, and he seems to relish challenges.
He is also a fantastic shot.
Items you're bringing with you: Just the clothes on his back, his wallet (complete with cute kid pictures), and a Winchester 1892 “Mare’s Leg”
Samples
First Person POV (Network Post):
[The communicator clicks on just in time to catch the tail end of a rather vivid string of curses that sound like they’re being mumbled.]
--worst motherfuckin’ piece of shit device that I ever touched in my life. Jesus, what the fuck is this, Star Trek? I swear, I will find whoever decided makin’ these buttons so fuckin’ small was a good idea and shove this up their - Oh hell, that little light means it’s on, doesn’t it...
[awkward pause]
Well shit.
[There’s another brief, awkward pause and then he clears his throat and speaks a little more loudly.]
Just a sound check, folks. Everything’s workin’ just fine, live long and prosper, systems are go, all that good stuff. Carry, ah, carry on.
[He salutes too for effect, but of course no one can see that.]
Third Person POV (Log Post):
(adapted from a sample used in a previous app)
The way he walked into the Vons, he might as well have been Clint Eastwood, all swagger and badass, just the way he liked it. He lived for these kinds of moments, where it was just him and the enemy, him and those ugly, undead sons of bitches. Got the blood roaring, the adrenalin going…and most of all, made that de-licious Twinkie waiting for him in these holy aisles all the greater.
Of course, some might think his reasons for actively seeking out danger rash at best, but that was the way he liked them. Spilling blood on the hour and living in the moment were the things he knew, and if he knew anything, in Zombieland you had to do copious amounts of both. There was no room for deep, introspective thoughts about one’s existence; that was called “daydreaming”, and to be caught daydreaming typically equated to death, frankly speaking.
A little rap on the produce shelf beside him led him to Cowpoke the First, slobbering away and lurching worse than his first car. You feelin’ lucky, punk? Classic. He pushed the brim of his hat up and spat on the tiles. And then, just like that, smooth as could be, he pulled the flamethrower out from behind his back, aimed the nozzle just so, and squeezed the ignition.
Fire wasn’t enough to bring down zombies-he’d learned this watching some punks get their asses eaten by some flaming undead shit-but it was the thought that counted. It was the artistry of watching their eyeballs burst from the heat and ooze down their face, of hearing them moan and gnash their teeth and writhe and squirm. And then they would charge out of the flames, flesh and clothing afire, thinking they’d caught their second wind. Well, pretending they could think.
Tallahassee admired his masterpiece in the making for a split second, and then it was back to business. He tossed the flamethrower over his shoulder, took a step back, and grabbed the first thing he could get his hands on: a watermelon, one of those miniature ones that they sold for people who were too lazy to lug the regular ones home. It was rotten by now, but he’d never used rotten watermelons before; there was a first time for everything.
One smooth stroke: he still had the old windup. He swung the melon up behind his shoulder and launched it forward like Josh Johnson had back in the day for the Marlins, smiling with satisfaction as it collided head on with his target’s face. And then a spin - he’d been working on this spinning draw - as he drew the Mare’s Leg from its holster at his hip and followed it up with a bullet right between the eyes. And another, for good measure and for good old double-tap.
A tug of the hat, a quick breath to scatter the smoke curling up from the tip, and then he was off, eyes on fire, mouth curved into a vicious grin.
Make my day!