Ruby City App
PLAYER
Name: Daemyn
Personal Journal: tosaga
E-mail: daemyn@ymail.com
AIM/MSN/etc: AIM: ivollias
CHARACTER
Name: Eridan Ampora
Canon: Homestuck
Timeline: After the computer he's using explodes in his face via Rose's black magic.
First Person: [When the communicator switches on it does so to the unusual image of one Eridan Ampora, hipster douche extraordinaire. Seeing as he's a troll, he's got horns like the rest of them and unlike the others about, he's also got fins protruding from the sides of his jaw. Eyes which haven't gotten enough rest are looking right at the watch (and therefore the feed) at first, but it doesn't take long before they begin to stray. Even though they do, they return to the watch fairly often and each time those eyes have a dramatic element to them. The gray hand not holding the communicator gesticulates in accordance to the words spoken.
Spend enough time with those eyes and hands and you'll realize how tiring the histrionics can get.]
Now normally I wouldn't be complainin' 'cause this bullshittin' is about the best I've seen when it comes to tryin' to convince me magic exists -- which it doesn't, by the way, it's nothing but a load a bullshitty hogwash and no amount a fakey fake drivel is goin' to make it any less unreal.
[As this douchebag talks, he does so with an alien accent unlike any of those on Earth. His "v"s sound like "w"s and his "w"s are doubled, not to mention his tendency to drop the "g"s off of certain words and have all-around subpar grammar and a pronunciation to go with it. If anyone wants to take note of his choice in fashion, it seems like he's trying to come across as a strange mix between hipster and supervillain.]
Anyway, I can respect the effort it takes to come across as diabolical and villainous even if you don't wanna admit it, but I've gotten to the point where I'm thinkin' this isn't entirely done by the work a Miss Fakemage. I can't blame any a you kidnappers if you're even listenin' for pickin' a royal blood like me to bring to this odd cityplace however you managed to do it notwithstandin'.
[After this, he makes sure to stare at the communicator head on, baring a fang or two and thus evoking the dramatic flair we discussed before.]
My curiosity is unsatisfied and I want answers. Anyone willin' to give 'em should respond.
Third Person: ((A/N: This third person sample is recycled from an app in which Eridan was taken from a later point in canon.))
Eridan Ampora would have been blindsided by fate, if such a fake construct like fate could ever exist in a world full of the truest sciences. But alas, it cannot, and the Prince of Hope had learned this the hard way. In fact, he had lost all hope in the magical and fantastical. A part of him - gone unacknowledged and denied - still loved magic and wizards and hope, but no, Eridan had rewritten what hope was. He had taken matters into his own hands, and showed the world that the only hope you could hope in was the kind that didn't rely on bullshit. Instead, all you could rely on was yourself.
And now, when Eridan was in a strange situation which, all things considering, wasn't nearly as strange as what had happened to his planet previously, he was prepared. He no longer had to rely on anyone, especially not his condescending ex-moirail and her bullshit. In fact, he had seen very well to it that she would no longer hold any jurisdiction over his actions. Hers would be the only murder he committed that didn't agree with the hemospectrum and "natural order of things," if that's what you could call it. Frankly, Eridan didn't give a shit about the hemospectrum, at least not in his context. She had rejected him, hurt him bad, and he had been harboring resentment for it ever since it happened. As time passed and more and more Eridan realized he had been abandoned, the resentment only grew stronger. The other players in the game weren't nearly as close to him, but he tried to get them to visit and help out anyway. But no, no one came to help, and Eridan just knew in his heart of hearts that if someone he'd been close for so long could abandon him, no one else would be there either. No one would care about pathetic little Eridan, trying to fill the void in his chest left by the Empress-to-be.
But Eridan had grown past that, grown a thicker skin and learned for himself that hoping for the impossible was bullshit. He still cared about Feferi, even now as he stared down at the paperwork in front of him, he could feel himself caring, but that didn't matter when Feferi had not only been killed by his hand, but her remains had been completely obliterated by however the veil had been destroyed. Of course, the inevitable that came from allowing himself to get lost in his own introspection came in the form of a walking fucking hill telling him write his 'v's and 'w's with only one and to use proper grammar and capitalization for the sake of record keeping.
If his science wand hadn't been confiscated earlier for the sake of 'safe record keeping' the giant alien would face Eridan's wrath, especially since he had already had to explain how his quirk worked earlier to another lumbering asshole. The only difference in this one was that he didn't have anything to justify his leaving in the middle of the encounter. Which meant that yes, he was still there, and Eridan still wanted to kill him but had to restrain himself. While his blood simmered dangerously, Eridan took up filling out the form once again, this time with the complete and total expectation that he was going to be interrupted.
Name: Daemyn
Personal Journal: tosaga
E-mail: daemyn@ymail.com
AIM/MSN/etc: AIM: ivollias
CHARACTER
Name: Eridan Ampora
Canon: Homestuck
Timeline: After the computer he's using explodes in his face via Rose's black magic.
First Person: [When the communicator switches on it does so to the unusual image of one Eridan Ampora, hipster douche extraordinaire. Seeing as he's a troll, he's got horns like the rest of them and unlike the others about, he's also got fins protruding from the sides of his jaw. Eyes which haven't gotten enough rest are looking right at the watch (and therefore the feed) at first, but it doesn't take long before they begin to stray. Even though they do, they return to the watch fairly often and each time those eyes have a dramatic element to them. The gray hand not holding the communicator gesticulates in accordance to the words spoken.
Spend enough time with those eyes and hands and you'll realize how tiring the histrionics can get.]
Now normally I wouldn't be complainin' 'cause this bullshittin' is about the best I've seen when it comes to tryin' to convince me magic exists -- which it doesn't, by the way, it's nothing but a load a bullshitty hogwash and no amount a fakey fake drivel is goin' to make it any less unreal.
[As this douchebag talks, he does so with an alien accent unlike any of those on Earth. His "v"s sound like "w"s and his "w"s are doubled, not to mention his tendency to drop the "g"s off of certain words and have all-around subpar grammar and a pronunciation to go with it. If anyone wants to take note of his choice in fashion, it seems like he's trying to come across as a strange mix between hipster and supervillain.]
Anyway, I can respect the effort it takes to come across as diabolical and villainous even if you don't wanna admit it, but I've gotten to the point where I'm thinkin' this isn't entirely done by the work a Miss Fakemage. I can't blame any a you kidnappers if you're even listenin' for pickin' a royal blood like me to bring to this odd cityplace however you managed to do it notwithstandin'.
[After this, he makes sure to stare at the communicator head on, baring a fang or two and thus evoking the dramatic flair we discussed before.]
My curiosity is unsatisfied and I want answers. Anyone willin' to give 'em should respond.
Third Person: ((A/N: This third person sample is recycled from an app in which Eridan was taken from a later point in canon.))
Eridan Ampora would have been blindsided by fate, if such a fake construct like fate could ever exist in a world full of the truest sciences. But alas, it cannot, and the Prince of Hope had learned this the hard way. In fact, he had lost all hope in the magical and fantastical. A part of him - gone unacknowledged and denied - still loved magic and wizards and hope, but no, Eridan had rewritten what hope was. He had taken matters into his own hands, and showed the world that the only hope you could hope in was the kind that didn't rely on bullshit. Instead, all you could rely on was yourself.
And now, when Eridan was in a strange situation which, all things considering, wasn't nearly as strange as what had happened to his planet previously, he was prepared. He no longer had to rely on anyone, especially not his condescending ex-moirail and her bullshit. In fact, he had seen very well to it that she would no longer hold any jurisdiction over his actions. Hers would be the only murder he committed that didn't agree with the hemospectrum and "natural order of things," if that's what you could call it. Frankly, Eridan didn't give a shit about the hemospectrum, at least not in his context. She had rejected him, hurt him bad, and he had been harboring resentment for it ever since it happened. As time passed and more and more Eridan realized he had been abandoned, the resentment only grew stronger. The other players in the game weren't nearly as close to him, but he tried to get them to visit and help out anyway. But no, no one came to help, and Eridan just knew in his heart of hearts that if someone he'd been close for so long could abandon him, no one else would be there either. No one would care about pathetic little Eridan, trying to fill the void in his chest left by the Empress-to-be.
But Eridan had grown past that, grown a thicker skin and learned for himself that hoping for the impossible was bullshit. He still cared about Feferi, even now as he stared down at the paperwork in front of him, he could feel himself caring, but that didn't matter when Feferi had not only been killed by his hand, but her remains had been completely obliterated by however the veil had been destroyed. Of course, the inevitable that came from allowing himself to get lost in his own introspection came in the form of a walking fucking hill telling him write his 'v's and 'w's with only one and to use proper grammar and capitalization for the sake of record keeping.
If his science wand hadn't been confiscated earlier for the sake of 'safe record keeping' the giant alien would face Eridan's wrath, especially since he had already had to explain how his quirk worked earlier to another lumbering asshole. The only difference in this one was that he didn't have anything to justify his leaving in the middle of the encounter. Which meant that yes, he was still there, and Eridan still wanted to kill him but had to restrain himself. While his blood simmered dangerously, Eridan took up filling out the form once again, this time with the complete and total expectation that he was going to be interrupted.