Application
Your Name: Sparky
Age: 22
Username: unactive
Email: strongmeka.chan@gmail.com
IM: strongmekachan
Character Name: Simba
Series: The Lion King
Timeline: After his argument with Nala
Background: Wikified for your convenience.
Spoken / written languages: Common. He is after all a talking lion who can sing.
Abilities: Simba is a typical, ordinary lion. His species is the second largest living cat. He has powerful legs, long canine teeth, and can reach up to 50 miles per hour, but only in short bursts. The only real ability he possesses aside from that of a typical, ordinary lion, is the ability to speak. And sing. Also, his paws are a little more dexterous than "real" lions, though he is still unable to type. He's able to hold things but only for limited periods of time. Most of the time, he'll opt to pick something up with his mouth.
Items: Absolutely nothing, but himself.
Third Person Sample:
This was the life!
Simba let out a joyous roar as he lept from the cliff and dove into the crystal clear water below. He hit the water with a hard splash, his landing awkward. Water spilled over to the shore, Pumbaa scrambling back to avoid getting wet. Simba surfaced with another roar, his mane matted to his neck and he flashed his sharp pearly whites at Timon and Pumbaa on the shore. "Well? What do you think?"
Timon made a show of whispering into Pumbaa's ear before he gave his lion friend a half shrug. "Eh. Seven."
"SEVEN!" Simba ambled out of the pool, shaking his fur and spraying water in all directions. "That was a nine at least."
"Your landing was all weird," Timon waved his hands to demonstrate, "That loses points, Buddy Boy."
Simba huffed, "Fine. I'll do it again." He turned to climb the cliff but stopped when Timon called for him.
"Nah, Sim-Sim. I'm hungry. Let's get some grub."
The lion shrugged, as he followed his friends with a sigh. Fine, if they wanted to eat they could eat. Simba wasn't going to complain. But when they were done, he was so going to do that dive again.
Now, with his belly full, Simba found that he was feeling far too lazy to trek back to the cliff. He lazed about in the grass next to Pumbaa and listened to Timon prattle on about what he thought the clouds above their heads looked like.
The hours ticked on and it was not long before the trio had drifted off to sleep. Simba woke with a start, breathing labored. His brow furrowed as he sat up. The dream he had had was hazy. There were faces and voices and so much noise. It was a jumbled mess and Simba didn't know where to begin to sort it out.
He lifted himself up gingerly, careful to avoid waking his friends then returned to the pool where he stretched out and watched his reflection in the water. "Hakuna Matata," he said and nodded at the water. That's right. No worries. No worries at all.
Yeah. This was the life.
First Person Sample:
[The comm is dropped as it starts to record and it catches the tail end of someone's sentence.]
--you can't change the...past. What the--?
[Simba pauses, circles the room.]
Where am I? Nala? Timon? Pumbaa? You guys here?
[He moves over to the door. It takes him a few tries, but after enough fiddling, the door opens and Simba sprints out into the hall. His voice fades out as he runs.]
Timon! Pumbaa! NALA!
[Eventually, the transmission idles out.]
Preferred Quarters: Nope. Stick him anywhere.