gargleblasted app [complete]
OOC:
Name: Mellow
Are you over 16?: Yep!
Personal LJ: cookiesays
Email: doombunny9@hotmail.com
Timezone: EST
Other contact: AIM - popcornkitten1
Characters already in the game: none
How did you find us?: yacchan
IC:
Character name: Mindy MacCready aka Hit-Girl
Fandom: Kick-Ass
Timeline: shortly after the conclusion of the film
Age: 11
~*Magical*~ abilities and strengths: nothing magical, but she is canonically a “highly lethal martial artist and weapons expert,” and has been trained, virtually since birth, to fight and kill bad guys with any kind of weapon, however intricate or improvised. Also she has a jet-pack with Gatling guns mounted on it.
How would they use their abilities?: to Fight Crime, of course! Hope you guys like vigilantism~ If not, uh.. well. 6.6
Appearance: Standing at approximately 4’10”, Mindy MacCready is an adorable little girl with freckles and blonde pigtails that are usually hidden beneath a purple wig and a domino mask. She’s surprisingly strong, but her muscles are lean, and when she’s out of costume and not covered in the blood of her fallen enemies, she looks like any eleven-year-old girl one might pull off the street. Beware that Hello Kitty backpack, though -- it’s full of weapons, not coloring books.
Background/Personality:
According to film canon, Mindy MacCready was born into violence. Her father, a rare morality-bound cop, earned the enmity of Mafia boss Frank D’Amico when he refused to be bought off. D’Amico, naturally, resorted to brutal measures to make sure that Damon MacCready was never in a position to refuse him again. Rescued from her murdered mother’s cooling corpse, Mindy was raised by her grief-stricken father to be only slightly less vengeful, but equally if not even more effective when it came to vigilante combat. Doomed from birth to an unnatural upbringing, Mindy could name more gun models than pokemon by the time she was seven.
For as long as she can remember, Mindy and her father moved around almost constantly, never staying in one place for more than six weeks. When he believed his daughter adequately trained, Damon, having assumed the alias Big Daddy, allowed his daughter to join him on his late-night crime-fighting jaunts as Hit-Girl.
The father-daughter thug-slaughtering duo had been cleaning up the streets of various cities across America long before the viral video of Kick-Ass’s first vaguely successful attempt sent the internet and, by extension, the unwashed masses, into an uproar. Big Daddy’s decade-long goal approached with unexpected rapidity as Kick-Ass’s clumsy excuse for masked heroism drew Frank D’Amico’s attention straight to him and any other nearby vigilantes -- namely, Hit-Girl and her father.
Whether the team-up between the pair, Kick-Ass, and his mysterious sidekick Red Mist, was out of necessity or some indulgent parental fancy of Big Daddy’s is unclear. What came after, however, was without question: Red Mist turned out to be D’Amico’s son, disguised as a superhero to earn the trust of his father’s enemies. His inevitable betrayal resulted in Hit-Girl being shot and pushed out a second-story window while Big Daddy and Kick-Ass were dragged off to be tortured by various Mafia sorts.
What no one had anticipated, save perhaps the man who trained her, was that Hit-Girl would survive both the shot and the fall, thanks to a kevlar vest and a well-placed, overflowing dumpster. Hit-Girl arrived at D’Amico’s warehouse just in time to see her father -- her teacher, her hero -- burst into flame.
By the time the two remaining vigilantes left, no one else in the warehouse was alive. Kick-Ass urged Hit-Girl to give up her mask, but she refused to even consider anything short of seeing her father’s revenge to its realization. Surprisingly -- at least, to Mindy -- Kick-Ass insisted on joining her.
Within hours, the pair had regrouped and rearmed, and Hit-Girl assumed an atypical disguise -- that of a lost child -- to invade D’Amico’s fancy skyscraper base, then single-handedly wipe out the entirety of the Mafia boss’s lower level defenses. She made it all the way to D’Amico’s penthouse kitchen before a lack of ammo left her with nothing but a counter-top between herself and death by bazooka.
Mindy stared down the barrel of her own mortality, then watched in startled disbelief as it was shredded by the gatling guns mounted onto her father’s jet-pack, which she had leant to Kick-Ass for the raid. The pair then went on to confront D’Amico and his son, Hit-Girl taking on the mob boss while Kick-Ass dueled his former friend. However, Hit-Girl appeared to have met her match in Frank D’Amico, and was again saved (to her frustrated embarrassment) by the blundering boy in the green scuba-suit. She was somewhat placated, at least, by the satisfaction of seeing the man who destroyed her family fly through a plate-glass window and explode into a gory cloud in the sky.
After the D’Amico Tower massacre, Kick-Ass and Hit-Girl parted ways temporarily. Mindy returned to the base she had shared with her father, making sure that the security of the apartment-slash-bunker was on maximum lockdown before she reluctantly allowed herself to give in to exhaustion.
She woke up inside a giant space turtle.
Have you read up on how the game works?: Extensively!
1st person sample:
[The video feed is very near pitch-black, but the momentary flash of the computer snapping a picture to accompany the feed reveals a young girl huddled under a low surface, eyes flicking warily around the room beyond the camera’s scope. Her exact age is hard to calculate, as most of her face is obscured by a lopsided domino mask and a messy purple bob, but she’s clearly not old enough to be decked out in a somewhat haphazard amalgamation of comic book spandex and a SWAT uniform.
When she speaks, there is a distinct growl in her voice that would be far more appropriate on characters commonly associated with Vengeance and The Night. It does nothing to disguise the fact that she can’t possibly be any older than twelve.]
Listen up, you cunts. I don’t know how you found me, let alone got me here, but the game’s up. I am going to hunt you down, every last one of you, and I will cut out your liver and shove it so far up your ass that you’ll close your eyes and see my fist where your brain should be.
There’s no use hiding. Give up now, and I might just kill you quick.
[feed end]
3rd person sample:
She knew as soon as she woke that she wasn’t in her bed.
Her dad had prepared her for this, used to drug her, tie her up, and take her somewhere unfamiliar to simulate a hostage situation under the safety of his supervision. She knew how to assess the level of danger she was in, to devise a plan under cover of feigned sleep, to reach the knife strapped under her sleeve and slice her restraints without detection, then listen for the approach of her captors, striking blind and fast and neat -- she knew what to do. Theoretically. As prepared as she’d thought she was, Mindy had never actually been kidnapped before.
And this was definitely not a drill.
Fear spiked through her, but she didn’t let herself panic, instead letting it settle in her stomach, centering her. Mindy kept her limbs loose, her eyes closed, and listened, breathed, catalogued all she could about her surroundings without giving any outward hint that she had regained consciousness.
The sharp, steady beeping of medical equipment was the first thing she had noticed upon waking, and while the sound itself was grating to the point that her concentration was compromised, it was also recognizable enough that she could assert with relative confidence that she was in some kind of hospital.
With another jolt, Mindy realized that the comforting weight of her weapons and gear was conspicuously absent, and the binding around her wrists, shoulder, and midsection felt decidedly like bandages. Unable to restrain herself any longer, her eyes snapped open and took in the low light reflecting off of sterile, white surfaces. A hurried glance around the room revealed her somewhat worse-for-wear uniform folded neatly in the corner of the room, on top of her battered pink backpack. When her gaze settled on her belongings, she relaxed, shoulders slumping momentarily before she struggled to sit up, the pain of half-healed injuries making her movements jerky, but determined.
She dressed quickly, pulling her uniform on over her bandages and strapping her gear back on tightly. What kind of hospital left weapons lying around in patients’ rooms? Well, that was their problem, not hers. With her armor secured, she felt sharper, more focused, and a second sweep of the room brought her to a weird, flat computer, some fucked-up hybrid of a laptop and one of those smart-phones that her dad had always insisted were way too traceable for people in there profession.
All the better to do some snooping, then.
The echo of footsteps in the hall outside had Mindy racing across the room, shoving her backpack under the bed and sliding in after it, reaching up to grab the computer as an afterthought before huddling beneath the bed.
The footsteps faded, but Mindy didn’t move immediately, instead turning her attention back to the screen. A few moments of fiddling with the edges located the power button, and a few moments more had her scowling mightily at her findings.
“’The fuck..?” She murmured under her breath, eyes narrowing at the cheery yellow encouragement. Who the hell went to so much trouble for such an obvious cover? Did they really think she was that stupid?
Mindy’s free hand slid over the USP Compact holstered at her waist as her gaze fell on an icon titled “Video Broadcast.” Reaching up in an attempt to blindly straighten her mask, her lips twisted sardonically as she jabbed the icon with one finger and backed off slightly, taking advantage of the low light and shadows to hide her features as she addressed the camera with more confidence than she felt.
Questions?: ...Can she bring her Hello Kitty backpack-o-guns and her jet-pack, or do I have to pick?
Did you put your characters name and fandom in the subject: Well! I haven’t posted the link yet, but I’m planning on it, so.. I hope so?
Name: Mellow
Are you over 16?: Yep!
Personal LJ: cookiesays
Email: doombunny9@hotmail.com
Timezone: EST
Other contact: AIM - popcornkitten1
Characters already in the game: none
How did you find us?: yacchan
IC:
Character name: Mindy MacCready aka Hit-Girl
Fandom: Kick-Ass
Timeline: shortly after the conclusion of the film
Age: 11
~*Magical*~ abilities and strengths: nothing magical, but she is canonically a “highly lethal martial artist and weapons expert,” and has been trained, virtually since birth, to fight and kill bad guys with any kind of weapon, however intricate or improvised. Also she has a jet-pack with Gatling guns mounted on it.
How would they use their abilities?: to Fight Crime, of course! Hope you guys like vigilantism~ If not, uh.. well. 6.6
Appearance: Standing at approximately 4’10”, Mindy MacCready is an adorable little girl with freckles and blonde pigtails that are usually hidden beneath a purple wig and a domino mask. She’s surprisingly strong, but her muscles are lean, and when she’s out of costume and not covered in the blood of her fallen enemies, she looks like any eleven-year-old girl one might pull off the street. Beware that Hello Kitty backpack, though -- it’s full of weapons, not coloring books.
Background/Personality:
According to film canon, Mindy MacCready was born into violence. Her father, a rare morality-bound cop, earned the enmity of Mafia boss Frank D’Amico when he refused to be bought off. D’Amico, naturally, resorted to brutal measures to make sure that Damon MacCready was never in a position to refuse him again. Rescued from her murdered mother’s cooling corpse, Mindy was raised by her grief-stricken father to be only slightly less vengeful, but equally if not even more effective when it came to vigilante combat. Doomed from birth to an unnatural upbringing, Mindy could name more gun models than pokemon by the time she was seven.
For as long as she can remember, Mindy and her father moved around almost constantly, never staying in one place for more than six weeks. When he believed his daughter adequately trained, Damon, having assumed the alias Big Daddy, allowed his daughter to join him on his late-night crime-fighting jaunts as Hit-Girl.
The father-daughter thug-slaughtering duo had been cleaning up the streets of various cities across America long before the viral video of Kick-Ass’s first vaguely successful attempt sent the internet and, by extension, the unwashed masses, into an uproar. Big Daddy’s decade-long goal approached with unexpected rapidity as Kick-Ass’s clumsy excuse for masked heroism drew Frank D’Amico’s attention straight to him and any other nearby vigilantes -- namely, Hit-Girl and her father.
Whether the team-up between the pair, Kick-Ass, and his mysterious sidekick Red Mist, was out of necessity or some indulgent parental fancy of Big Daddy’s is unclear. What came after, however, was without question: Red Mist turned out to be D’Amico’s son, disguised as a superhero to earn the trust of his father’s enemies. His inevitable betrayal resulted in Hit-Girl being shot and pushed out a second-story window while Big Daddy and Kick-Ass were dragged off to be tortured by various Mafia sorts.
What no one had anticipated, save perhaps the man who trained her, was that Hit-Girl would survive both the shot and the fall, thanks to a kevlar vest and a well-placed, overflowing dumpster. Hit-Girl arrived at D’Amico’s warehouse just in time to see her father -- her teacher, her hero -- burst into flame.
By the time the two remaining vigilantes left, no one else in the warehouse was alive. Kick-Ass urged Hit-Girl to give up her mask, but she refused to even consider anything short of seeing her father’s revenge to its realization. Surprisingly -- at least, to Mindy -- Kick-Ass insisted on joining her.
Within hours, the pair had regrouped and rearmed, and Hit-Girl assumed an atypical disguise -- that of a lost child -- to invade D’Amico’s fancy skyscraper base, then single-handedly wipe out the entirety of the Mafia boss’s lower level defenses. She made it all the way to D’Amico’s penthouse kitchen before a lack of ammo left her with nothing but a counter-top between herself and death by bazooka.
Mindy stared down the barrel of her own mortality, then watched in startled disbelief as it was shredded by the gatling guns mounted onto her father’s jet-pack, which she had leant to Kick-Ass for the raid. The pair then went on to confront D’Amico and his son, Hit-Girl taking on the mob boss while Kick-Ass dueled his former friend. However, Hit-Girl appeared to have met her match in Frank D’Amico, and was again saved (to her frustrated embarrassment) by the blundering boy in the green scuba-suit. She was somewhat placated, at least, by the satisfaction of seeing the man who destroyed her family fly through a plate-glass window and explode into a gory cloud in the sky.
After the D’Amico Tower massacre, Kick-Ass and Hit-Girl parted ways temporarily. Mindy returned to the base she had shared with her father, making sure that the security of the apartment-slash-bunker was on maximum lockdown before she reluctantly allowed herself to give in to exhaustion.
She woke up inside a giant space turtle.
Have you read up on how the game works?: Extensively!
1st person sample:
[The video feed is very near pitch-black, but the momentary flash of the computer snapping a picture to accompany the feed reveals a young girl huddled under a low surface, eyes flicking warily around the room beyond the camera’s scope. Her exact age is hard to calculate, as most of her face is obscured by a lopsided domino mask and a messy purple bob, but she’s clearly not old enough to be decked out in a somewhat haphazard amalgamation of comic book spandex and a SWAT uniform.
When she speaks, there is a distinct growl in her voice that would be far more appropriate on characters commonly associated with Vengeance and The Night. It does nothing to disguise the fact that she can’t possibly be any older than twelve.]
Listen up, you cunts. I don’t know how you found me, let alone got me here, but the game’s up. I am going to hunt you down, every last one of you, and I will cut out your liver and shove it so far up your ass that you’ll close your eyes and see my fist where your brain should be.
There’s no use hiding. Give up now, and I might just kill you quick.
[feed end]
3rd person sample:
She knew as soon as she woke that she wasn’t in her bed.
Her dad had prepared her for this, used to drug her, tie her up, and take her somewhere unfamiliar to simulate a hostage situation under the safety of his supervision. She knew how to assess the level of danger she was in, to devise a plan under cover of feigned sleep, to reach the knife strapped under her sleeve and slice her restraints without detection, then listen for the approach of her captors, striking blind and fast and neat -- she knew what to do. Theoretically. As prepared as she’d thought she was, Mindy had never actually been kidnapped before.
And this was definitely not a drill.
Fear spiked through her, but she didn’t let herself panic, instead letting it settle in her stomach, centering her. Mindy kept her limbs loose, her eyes closed, and listened, breathed, catalogued all she could about her surroundings without giving any outward hint that she had regained consciousness.
The sharp, steady beeping of medical equipment was the first thing she had noticed upon waking, and while the sound itself was grating to the point that her concentration was compromised, it was also recognizable enough that she could assert with relative confidence that she was in some kind of hospital.
With another jolt, Mindy realized that the comforting weight of her weapons and gear was conspicuously absent, and the binding around her wrists, shoulder, and midsection felt decidedly like bandages. Unable to restrain herself any longer, her eyes snapped open and took in the low light reflecting off of sterile, white surfaces. A hurried glance around the room revealed her somewhat worse-for-wear uniform folded neatly in the corner of the room, on top of her battered pink backpack. When her gaze settled on her belongings, she relaxed, shoulders slumping momentarily before she struggled to sit up, the pain of half-healed injuries making her movements jerky, but determined.
She dressed quickly, pulling her uniform on over her bandages and strapping her gear back on tightly. What kind of hospital left weapons lying around in patients’ rooms? Well, that was their problem, not hers. With her armor secured, she felt sharper, more focused, and a second sweep of the room brought her to a weird, flat computer, some fucked-up hybrid of a laptop and one of those smart-phones that her dad had always insisted were way too traceable for people in there profession.
All the better to do some snooping, then.
The echo of footsteps in the hall outside had Mindy racing across the room, shoving her backpack under the bed and sliding in after it, reaching up to grab the computer as an afterthought before huddling beneath the bed.
The footsteps faded, but Mindy didn’t move immediately, instead turning her attention back to the screen. A few moments of fiddling with the edges located the power button, and a few moments more had her scowling mightily at her findings.
“’The fuck..?” She murmured under her breath, eyes narrowing at the cheery yellow encouragement. Who the hell went to so much trouble for such an obvious cover? Did they really think she was that stupid?
Mindy’s free hand slid over the USP Compact holstered at her waist as her gaze fell on an icon titled “Video Broadcast.” Reaching up in an attempt to blindly straighten her mask, her lips twisted sardonically as she jabbed the icon with one finger and backed off slightly, taking advantage of the low light and shadows to hide her features as she addressed the camera with more confidence than she felt.
Questions?: ...Can she bring her Hello Kitty backpack-o-guns and her jet-pack, or do I have to pick?
Did you put your characters name and fandom in the subject: Well! I haven’t posted the link yet, but I’m planning on it, so.. I hope so?