(no subject)
Character: Lincoln Lee
Series: Fringe
Age: late 20s
Job: Paranormal Paper Pusher
Canon: Fringe follows the casework of the "Fringe" division -- an FBI task force designed to handle fringe science cases, which tend to border on the weird and mildly insane. Headed up by Agent Olivia Dunham, the mad scientist Walter Bishop, and his skeptical son Peter, the Fringe division tackles a number of cases, from general body horror to paranormal weirdness to even the existence of (and a potential war with) an alternate dimension. But Special Agent Lincoln Lee wasn't always involved with the Fringe division. Your average desk jockey at the Hartford office, Lincoln only became involved in Olivia and company's wild and wacky world of science and bugfuckery as they both pursued what he deemed to be a "compassionate soul vampire." ... It's a long story, as are most things with Fringe.
Lincoln Lee is the logical sort who is at first skeptical of the Fringe division; however, when all is said and done, he finds himself intrigued by it and even willing to dive back into that world again, if only to find more answers to the dozens of questions he has. Initially, he seems to be a restrained nerd of sorts, lacking a certain sort of confidence. He's the straight man, the type to stare at the insanity around him and offer a few dry remarks. Because, despite how he may seem, Lincoln does have a somewhat snarky sense of humor, one he lets slip through even when he's trying to take care of business. At his core, Lincoln is a good man with a great deal of potential that he's only just begun to tap. And maybe, just maybe, chasing after the inexplicable and sometimes ridiculous can do just that.
Sample Post:
When I requested a transfer, this wasn't quite what I had in mind. I can appreciate the change of scenery, especially given Hartford at this time of year which -- need I say more? I'm used to the desk work, too, so that's not really the problem here. I'm even, albeit slowly, getting accustomed to this idea of there being more to our world than we could have possibly imagined. Really. I'm open-minded, or I'd like to think I am, anyway. But, um. Those are zombies. And you're a gorilla. I think we need to pause for a moment and assess this situation.
I could ask how a large, immaculately coiffed purple gorilla came to be in charge of a division of the FBI, but all of the scenarios I'm imagining are only giving me a headache and I'm out of painkillers. Let's just ... move on from that for now. If you don't mind, may I ask how practical it is to have hired zombies, exactly? They're rotting corpses who seem to be losing bits of themselves by the minute. That kind of makes it hard to fill out and process the proper forms when they can't keep a grip on their own hands, and it's actually very distracting when your co-worker's finger goes flying over your head. I just feel like this needs to be said, regardless of how ridiculous it may sound.
While we're on the subject of ridiculous, could we discuss these reports? I was going to say that there must be something wrong with them -- a typo, or files being mixed up, or someone may have even had several auto correct errors. I've had "matriculating" come out horribly wrong, so it's possible! But judging from the standards set in this office, I'm beginning to get this sinking pit in my stomach. I-- here, take this one, for example. Triple homicide, but then a few pages later, you have statements from the victims. The, uh, victims of a triple homicide? And look, as a nitpick, while it's great to be thorough, I'm not so certain that a witness statement of "kupo" is going to hold up in court. What is that even supposed to mean ... ?
May I ask how any of you actually get any work done around here? ... Judging from the look on your surprisingly expressive face, I'm going to assume that you don't. Mr. Gorilla, I don't mean to step on anyone's toes -- particularly my coworkers'. Given how many limbs they’ve already lost, that would just be rude. But if we're to be taken as seriously as an office headed up by a gorilla can be, we really should start to make some changes around here. We could organize the office by dividing these reports up into categories, such as "within the realm of possibility," "quasi-within the realm of possibility if one were to squint," and "excellent B movie fodder." This one about the cephalopod? That could go in category C. No, no, not out the window, just in a nice pile over here. ... Oh, you're trying to point out that-- um, that silo over there. With the cephalopod on top. And ... it's waving. Isn't it.
... You know what, Mr. Gorilla? Let's just get your signatu-- ... hand print right here and call it a day. Alright?
[Voting went here.]
Series: Fringe
Age: late 20s
Job: Paranormal Paper Pusher
Canon: Fringe follows the casework of the "Fringe" division -- an FBI task force designed to handle fringe science cases, which tend to border on the weird and mildly insane. Headed up by Agent Olivia Dunham, the mad scientist Walter Bishop, and his skeptical son Peter, the Fringe division tackles a number of cases, from general body horror to paranormal weirdness to even the existence of (and a potential war with) an alternate dimension. But Special Agent Lincoln Lee wasn't always involved with the Fringe division. Your average desk jockey at the Hartford office, Lincoln only became involved in Olivia and company's wild and wacky world of science and bugfuckery as they both pursued what he deemed to be a "compassionate soul vampire." ... It's a long story, as are most things with Fringe.
Lincoln Lee is the logical sort who is at first skeptical of the Fringe division; however, when all is said and done, he finds himself intrigued by it and even willing to dive back into that world again, if only to find more answers to the dozens of questions he has. Initially, he seems to be a restrained nerd of sorts, lacking a certain sort of confidence. He's the straight man, the type to stare at the insanity around him and offer a few dry remarks. Because, despite how he may seem, Lincoln does have a somewhat snarky sense of humor, one he lets slip through even when he's trying to take care of business. At his core, Lincoln is a good man with a great deal of potential that he's only just begun to tap. And maybe, just maybe, chasing after the inexplicable and sometimes ridiculous can do just that.
Sample Post:
When I requested a transfer, this wasn't quite what I had in mind. I can appreciate the change of scenery, especially given Hartford at this time of year which -- need I say more? I'm used to the desk work, too, so that's not really the problem here. I'm even, albeit slowly, getting accustomed to this idea of there being more to our world than we could have possibly imagined. Really. I'm open-minded, or I'd like to think I am, anyway. But, um. Those are zombies. And you're a gorilla. I think we need to pause for a moment and assess this situation.
I could ask how a large, immaculately coiffed purple gorilla came to be in charge of a division of the FBI, but all of the scenarios I'm imagining are only giving me a headache and I'm out of painkillers. Let's just ... move on from that for now. If you don't mind, may I ask how practical it is to have hired zombies, exactly? They're rotting corpses who seem to be losing bits of themselves by the minute. That kind of makes it hard to fill out and process the proper forms when they can't keep a grip on their own hands, and it's actually very distracting when your co-worker's finger goes flying over your head. I just feel like this needs to be said, regardless of how ridiculous it may sound.
While we're on the subject of ridiculous, could we discuss these reports? I was going to say that there must be something wrong with them -- a typo, or files being mixed up, or someone may have even had several auto correct errors. I've had "matriculating" come out horribly wrong, so it's possible! But judging from the standards set in this office, I'm beginning to get this sinking pit in my stomach. I-- here, take this one, for example. Triple homicide, but then a few pages later, you have statements from the victims. The, uh, victims of a triple homicide? And look, as a nitpick, while it's great to be thorough, I'm not so certain that a witness statement of "kupo" is going to hold up in court. What is that even supposed to mean ... ?
May I ask how any of you actually get any work done around here? ... Judging from the look on your surprisingly expressive face, I'm going to assume that you don't. Mr. Gorilla, I don't mean to step on anyone's toes -- particularly my coworkers'. Given how many limbs they’ve already lost, that would just be rude. But if we're to be taken as seriously as an office headed up by a gorilla can be, we really should start to make some changes around here. We could organize the office by dividing these reports up into categories, such as "within the realm of possibility," "quasi-within the realm of possibility if one were to squint," and "excellent B movie fodder." This one about the cephalopod? That could go in category C. No, no, not out the window, just in a nice pile over here. ... Oh, you're trying to point out that-- um, that silo over there. With the cephalopod on top. And ... it's waving. Isn't it.
... You know what, Mr. Gorilla? Let's just get your signatu-- ... hand print right here and call it a day. Alright?
[Voting went here.]