Application for paradisa
WHAT THEY LOST: Mark no longer has his modulator, the device he used to disguise his voice when he broadcasted his radio show. He's also unable to build a replacement, and will have to do any "broadcasts" over the journal as his alter ego in his real voice. Considering that he's a shy guy without the anonymity of radio, this will be interesting going for him, and will probably result in him being a lot quieter in person ... at first.
ABOUT THE CHARACTER: It's perfectly fair to split Mark into two personas: himself, and his disc jockey alter ego, Happy Harry Hard-on. Mark himself is a very clever, studious, considerate guy - he's always thinking about the world as a whole, and how it relates to the microcosm of teenage existance. He worries a lot about where the world is headed, and what his generation's going to do about it. He's relatively well-adjusted, and almost a little too well-behaved (on the outside), having grown up an only child in perfect middle-class 1980s fashion. For most of high school he was outgoing, friendly, and relatively popular, finding outlets for his fears and introspection through his friends and the school creative writing program. But being shuffled to a new town for his junior year, in the midst of his self-discovery, ground his budding confidence to a screeching halt. Unsure if anyone in his new home would be on his level, Mark withdrew and became That Shy Guy On The Sidelines with his nose constantly in a book. He hardly ever talks to people, and when he does, his remarks are short and mumbled. Of course, he still worries and wonders ... and having to keep all of that bottled up was bound to have some effect on him. Once his frustration reached its boiling point, Happy Harry Hard-on was born. Behind the anonymity of the broadcast word and a voice modulator, Mark found both his outlet and his courage.
Once he goes live, Hard Harry is a loud, rude, crude, no holds barred voice of reason and rebellion. He takes the most delight in coaxing his listeners to reveal their true selves, to tell the stories they've bottled up like he has, and to do their own parts to fight against the things that hold them back. He talks about anything and everything he feels is wrong and ridiculous about society, particularly corrupt systems and outdated, overrated social expectations. In order to make sure that he doesn't utterly depress or bore his audience, Harry tempers his broadcasts with indie rock, the lewdest rap he can find, and crude humor - especially references to sex and masturbation. Underneath all the blue humor and bawdiness is a clear message: be yourself, full speed ahead, damn the torpedoes... and keep at it, because eventually it's GOT to get better somehow.
Despite this distinct difference in persona, and the tendency Harry has to incite his listeners to rebellion, Mark does not consider himself a vigilante. Harry's broadcasts started out as an exercise in boredom and grew into something he never intended, but now he realizes that he can be the voice of change that he himself had been looking for. The main reason that Harry isn't a vigilante is that, for the most part, Mark doesn't break any laws (being busted by the FCC at the end of canon for pirating airwaves notwithstanding). He's a voice of incitement, urging people to act on their own instincts toward what needs to be done. He's more of a revolutionary figurehead, with a heavy dose of Shakespearean fool thrown in: dragging the absurdities of daily life out into plain sight so that others will see how ridiculous they are.
Mark had, eventually, begun to open himself up and stop hiding ... but being brought to Paradisa will jar him back into introversion, just like when his family moved from New York to Arizona - especially since he'll be without the girl who helped break him out of his shell. He'll reserve Harry for journal broadcasts from the safety of his room, and he'll wander the castle and town as his shy, mumbling self. This isn't to say that Mark will cut himself off completely from people, though! He'll get to know people who approach him, but he'll be the kind of friend who listens more than he talks, with the utmost respect for their privacy and problems. No matter which voice he speaks with, one thing remains the same: Mark believes that everyone has the right to feel and think whatever they want, and to be heard and respected.
THIRD-PERSON WRITING SAMPLE: When Mark awoke in the big, soft, comfortable bed, he knew something was wrong. This sure as hell wasn't juvie, and he knew he'd never seen a room like the one he was in before. He found his glasses on the nightstand near an open book, and slipped them on - only to see words start appearing before his eyes. He flipped another page, and voices drifted up to him like a radio on the most crystal-clear band he'd ever heard.
I must be dreaming, he thought, scrubbing a hand over his face. But he was riveted by the voices and the words, a bricolage of life unfolding in real time. There were people just as confused as him, and he listened prudently to the explanations they were given, occasionally leafing back in the book to confirm what he was hearing. From the sounds of it, the whole place was rife with secrets and confusion - and people in turmoil. People who didn't know where to turn, and just ended up standing still. It all had the rank smell of familiarity, even as some of it seemed utterly unbelievable. It was human nature to fall back on the familiar, Mark realized - and it was very possible that this place could benefit from his idea of familiarity.
Once he'd heard enough he rose, dressed, and silently wished for a floor map, tucking his journal under his arm. Quietly, he made his way toward the landmark that had caught his attention: the music room. There was a decidedly small collection of cassettes and vinyl, with a large compliment of the compact discs that had just started to hit the shelves at home. Ripping a page from his journal, Mark made a wish list of stereo equipment, topping it all off with a cart to carry it in, and selected a substantial pile of music before hauling it all back to his room. As he worked to assemble it all, he kept the journal open, listening to the steady stream of chatter. By the time he had the CD player, turntable, and equalizer wired up, he'd heard more than enough to confirm his suspicions. It was no Hubert Humphrey High ... No, this was a thousand times worse. Still slightly high off his new-found freedom, Mark took his strange surroundings as a challenge. The words were already coming to him, as he took a break to amble down to the first floor and raid the fridge.
This one's gonna be a doozy, he thought, smiling to himself. Come ten P.M, Paradisa isn't gonna know what hit it.
FIRST-PERSON WRITING SAMPLE: [A familiar young man's voice pipes up over the journal: slow, quiet, brave.] Iiiiit's ten o'clock, Paradisa. And I've got that old familiar feeling that something stinks on the happy homefront.
[the scratch of a needle precedes the first few bars of Harry's theme: "Everybody Knows" by Leonard Cohen, before the music is dialed down to play softly in the background]
That's right, folks! It's your pal Happy Harry Hard-on, with your weekly reality suppository, your cure for the castle, so open wide and cloooose your eyes, 'cuz here I come, hahaa.
This week's topic is near and dear to at least a few hearts, I'm sure: DEATH! Seriously. Two weeks?! Come on, you guys gotta be kidding me. That ain't death, that's a light coma! It's what the working world gets after a year of dedicated service ... that's right, VACATION TIME! I don't know about the rest of you, but where I'm from, death was it, adios, auf wiedersein, the end! You didn't get frequent flyer miles for cutting down the road! But you know ... you know .... [there's the click of a lighter, and a brief pause as he lights a cigarette]
I could put a real spin on this. We all could, if we really tried. I've been thinking, faithful listeners ... and you know what'd really take the rise outta Paradisa's pole? A mass suicide pact. [his tone turns gleeful, downright jubilant with mischief, as he throws his arms in the air and spins in his chair, nearly knocking over a pile of CDs] THINK ABOUT IT! Two whole weeks, with NO ONE to fuck with! No losses, no crazy mandatory costume parties, no monsters. NOBODY. That'd show the old pile of rocks, wouldn't it? Food for thought. Sooooo, let's open up the floor to our listeners, shall we? Remember, if you've got something you wanna say anonymously, written filters are your friend, and I'll be your buddy and read 'em out for the whole crowd to enjoy...
While you're thinking, have a little cultural edification... a little Mindless Self Indulgence. ["Backmask" by Mindless Self Indulgence starts playing over the journal, as he puts his feet up on the table and folds his arms behind his head, waiting for responses]
INTENT: My intent for Mark is simple: he's here to troll, to shake people out of their castle comas, and to push my own personal comfort envelope for the stuff I write. He's also a bit of an experiment on my part as a mun: a way to ICly keep up on the ENTIRE community, not just my characters' CR, and follow events better. He'll post either weekly or bi-weekly with his show as Harry, but it'll be Mark who occasionally shows up in other people's posts and logs. He's an introvert, yes, but the broadcast posts will even it out, and eventually he'll probably start to come out of his shell. If it doesn't work out, and the activity load is too much for me - it'll just turn out that Happy Harry Hard-on talked more truth and trouble than the castle was willing to allow ... (Or, hey, maybe he'd strike out to join Reno and the other outsiders... XD)