Application (WIP)
Character Name: Casey Jones
Series: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (1990 Film)
Timeline: Right after he steals a Foot Clan uniform while in their hideout. So, more than 2/3s of the way through the film.
Background: Well, this is the link to his background for all of the versions he appears in. Here's another one that is even less complete, but has fun pictures! Since there is not a lot of background info for him in the film, I'll be filling in the blanks, somewhat!
Casey is a New York native, born and raised in the slums of New York. He's not the smartest guy in the world, and he's got some "sensitivity issues". He was able to play for a professional hockey team for less than a year before he was injured badly enough to be put out of the game permanently. The injury was probably a knee injury that never quite healed right, or at least not well enough for him to play at the professional level again. It can be assumed that not so long after that, probably around the time the crime wave in New York started-- and about that same time, Casey probably picked up his whole vigilante shtick, which is how he meets the Turtles.
Spoken / written languages: Common
Abilities: Casey has no super special awesome powers or anything like that. What he does have is a knowledge of a wide range of sports (including Cricket) but is especially proficient in Ice Hockey (and presumably, field Hockey)... He's got a lot of physical strength, he uses all kinds of sporting equipment as weaponry. He's shown in the film not only knocking a guy out with a nine iron, but sending him backwards into a stack of boxes-- he's pretty strong. Casey also knows his way around a garage, and can fix-- or try to fix-- any thing on wheels. Or, at least, he can probably do pretty well with any type of motor before or around 1990 or so.
Items: His normal outfit in the film-- high-top sneakers, grey sweatpants, white tank top, ripped up overshirt AND, a Foot Ninja uniform, which he will be wearing when he arrives. He doesn't have his golf bag because he left it in the truck or something... he doesn't have it with him in that point in the film.
Third Person Sample: Columbus Circle at four in the morning was a hell of a thing. It was quiet, but there were the few taxis circling by for God-knows-what-reason. Granted, if any of the passengers were paying attention, they were probably wondering why there was a guy with a golf bag on his back and a hockey mask on his head sitting on the Columbus statue, but that was really not as big of a concern as the kid Casey was watching. He was skinny, couldn’t be more than sixteen- a kid like that out at this time of night was only trouble. The kid skirted past a group of drunken college kids who had just tumbled out of a taxi together, arms around each other’s shoulders, laughing way too loudly.
His hand slipped into one of their coat pockets, and the kid casually ducked into Central Park.
“And, that’s my cue.” Casey slapped the hockey mask over his face and leapt off the statue.
Taking off at a full-on sprint, he tore through the low bushes in the landscaping around Columbus circle. Dodging the one taxi in the circle and ducking a drunken arm, he skidded around a corner.
Really, if these kids didn’t want to get caught, they needed to be more original. It was always Central Park. Casey groped around over his shoulder, trying to find the right weapon-
“Aha.” One of the Jose Canseco bats. Perfect. He only needed the one.
The kid was up ahead, crouched under a street lamp, not so far off the path. Casey fought back a chuckle; he could hear the kid cussing about how little money had been in the wallet. And, rather suddenly, “Take Me Out to the Ball Game” popped into his head. He shrugged, and slapped his bat into the palm of his hand.
“Hey, kid! Batter up!”
He aimed a wide swing at the space just above the kid's head, catching some wisps of dirty blond hair against the streetlamp's pole with a loud, hollow CLANG. The kid screamed, scrambling away, eventually stumbling to his feet and running in the direction Casey had just come from. Casey rolled his eyes, jogging after him casually.
"Look, buddy, you were the one who made the foul--" He grunts with the effort of swinging the bat again. He catches the kid in the side this time, sending him to the ground. He didn't think he heard a rib cracking, he was pretty sure he only hit him in the stomach. He threw the bat back in the golf bag, and squatted down next to the kid, resting his arms on his knees.
The kid whimpered.
Casey raised an eyebrow. Really? Rifling through the kid's pockets, he finds the stolen wallet (and a few extra, to boot). He stood up, and looked at the kid, who was now crying, cradling his midriff. Maybe he did break a rib.
"You gonna do that again, kid?" Casey asked, nudging him with a boot.
The kid shook his head. He really was too young to be pick-pocketing at this time of night. Casey didn't really feel bad, he's teaching him a lesson, it's for his own good.
Casey kicks him once for good measure. The kid yelps like a dog whose tail had been stepped on. "Good to know. I won't be so friendly next time, you hear?" Casey turned on his heel, heading for the nearest address listed on one of the IDs.
First Person Sample: [The communicator starts broadcasting mid-sentence. He voice has an obvious New York accent to it, but his voice is hard to recognize. He's speaking quietly so he doesn't alert anyone who might be nearby-- after all, he had just been in a hideout full of misunderstood teenagers and ninjas.]
--hell am I now? Doesn't look nothin' like the other rooms...
[There's shuffling as he moves things in the room, just to be sure there was nothing there.]
Stupid mask.
[How do those ninjas see out of these things, anyway? The eyes are all weird-- the mesh is hard to see through in places.]
Whatever.
[Casey ducks out of the room, still in Foot Ninja disguise, wishing he'd thought to at least bring his hockey stick with him.]
Preferred Quarters: Can we stick him on Deck 6 with the rest of the cast? PARTY ON THE TURTLE DECK!