OOC: App
Basics
Character Name: Raylan Givens
Username: toooldforlosing
Fandom: Justified
Played By: Timothy Olyphant
Icon: http://l-userpic.livejournal.com/103260137/28861687
Canon Character Section (disregard if applying for an original character)
Physical Description: Raylan is a youngish-looking 41 years old, in excellent shape from his work as a U.S. Marshal. He is 6’0”, muscular but not heavy, with a strong jaw and a range of fairly hilarious facial expressions between long, steady glares. He often wears a particular off-white cowboy hat, and almost always a firearm.
Sexuality: Raylan likes the ladies, and the ladies like Raylan.
He was married for nine years (I am still trying to verify this from canon, and reserve the right to correct myself, but more than five and less than ten, I’m fairly sure), and still carries a torch for his ex, Winona Hawkins. There’s no evidence he was untrue to her while they were married, but he certainly hasn’t been celibate since, either. On returning to Kentucky, he began an ill-advised relationship with Ava Crowder, which ended shortly after she caught him sleeping with Winona (who was, coincidentally, married to someone else at the time).
He’s not purposely an asshole to women, but he makes terrible romantic choices. That said, he’s very good in bed, and enjoys sex for its own sake. It just generally comes with a host of complications.
History: (adapted from http://justified.wikia.com/wiki/Raylan_Givens, expanded by typist)
Raylan Givens was born in 1970 and raised in the rural backwaters of Harlan County, Kentucky. Raised by his father Arlo Givens and his step-mother Helen Givens, Raylan had somewhat of a turbulent childhood. This was mostly due to Arlo, who took part in many criminal enterprises. Raylan’s mother, Frances, died when Raylan was very young, but neither she nor Helen could put much of a damper on Arlo’s activities. It is through his father that Raylan became very familiar with Kentucky's criminal world.
The best way to rebel, of course, was to be an honest man. Raylan did well in high school, despite both playing baseball and working in a coal mine. He and Boyd Crowder, the son of Arlo’s associate and Harlan crime-lord Bo, worked together in life-threatening situations with Boyd as the “powder man.” However, a year or two after high school, Raylan went off to college and Boyd went to Kuwait for Desert Storm.
Raylan became a US Marshal, and married a court reporter named Winona. The couple lived in Lexington for a time, where Raylan taught firearms at Glynco, among other duties. There was a great deal of chemistry between the pair, but his job created tension. These tensions weren’t helped by the fact that Raylan wanted children, but Winona didn’t agree as long as Raylan’s job regularly put his life in danger.
When Raylan was transferred to Miami, Winona didn’t move with him. The pair divorced a short time later, and she remarried, a real estate developer named Gary Hawkins. Raylan, always inclined to put his job first, threw himself into his work with a gusto that gave his superiors a headache more often than it didn’t.
Matters came to a head in March 2010, when he gave Thomas Buckley 24 hours to get out of Miami on pain of being shot on sight. Buckley, who’d murdered a man but let Raylan live, thought it was a joke, but pulled on Raylan first leading Raylan to shoot him to death at close range. The DOJ was less than impressed, and his boss sent Raylan back to Lexington, despite his protests to the contrary.
When he returned to Kentucky, his old friend and new boss Art Mullen immediately handed him a mess in Harlan. Boyd Crowder had returned from Kuwait and become a general miscreant, refusing to pay taxes, spouting anti-semitism, and destroying property. His sister-in-law, Ava, had also recently murdered her husband. Raylan promptly got enmeshed in the situation between an attraction to Ava and a strange relationship with Boyd that didn’t prevent a shootout in Ava’s dining room that put Boyd in the hospital (and then in prison pending trial).
In the next year or so, Raylan re-encountered and became even further estranged from Arlo; got involved with Ava against all better judgment, but then left her for Winona in even worse judgment; started a strange frienemy-ship with Boyd and semi-friendships with his fellow marshals; and collected a long list of people who wanted to kill him. He comes to Baedal fresh off the season two finale, which will air May 4; I will let mods know if this will change his characterization in any intense way.
Powers: No supernatural powers.
Talents/Abilities:: He is a trained US Marshal, with the attendant skills and experience. Raylan is almost a preternaturally good shot and a quick draw with a sidearm.
Personality: This is all you need to know: http://youtu.be/wVT0B3pPsa8
…no, just kidding, I actually did write this section.
Raylan presents himself as a calm lawman who, despite a tendency to quietly smartmouth, also has a gift for defusing situations. He is generally very polite and well-mannered, and though his holler roots are something he likes to keep at arm’s length, he doesn’t pretend to be more urban or sophisticated than he is. Raylan generally values directness, in himself and others, but isn’t rude unless pushed.
This, while not false exactly, is also more who Raylan would like to be than who he is. Under that, there is a deep current of rage that he keeps tightly leashed, but which breaks out now and then. He has low tolerance for unrepentant criminal behavior of any kind, but especially violence against women or children. This lack of tolerance tends to collide explosively with his talent for firearms. He’s shot many more people than the average marshal, and killed more than the average law enforcement of any stripe. That said, he has a keen sense of judgment, and there are lines he won’t cross; for example, he won’t allow someone to testify falsely, even if their doing so would put a murderer in prison. He has a rigidly defined sense of fair play that doesn’t always align with the law, sometimes more strict and sometimes less than legality would allow, but from which he seldom deviates.
Object: Raylan doesn’t set much store by material possessions. His hat and his firearm would be on his person - I don’t think he’d have an additional object. He’d find an extra ammo clip reassuring, but I don’t know how personal that is; I leave it to mod discretion.
Reason for playing: I was attracted to Raylan as a character almost instantly, and enabled into playing him in Xanadu to try him out. I was initially a little unsure about his voice, but I’ve really come to like playing him a great deal as I gained confidence. I think he’s ready now for a game with more plot, and to get out and about with more people.
Gods: Eliandre. Eliandre forever. He is like her spirit animal. Justice is intensely important to him, and the death connection is also appropriate, given his penchant for shooting wrongdoers a bit more than the law would strictly condone.
Writing Samples
First-Person Network Post:
[voice]
Right, so. Spatters. Mentioned in this helpful literature we were handed. Anyone know who or what they are, or where I can find them?
I think I’m gonna register a complaint.
First-Person Journal Post:
Well, you always knew coming back to Kentucky was a bad idea. And you knew seeing Winona again was a worse one.
You knew this job would probably kill you one day.
Don’t it stink to be right all the time?
Third-Person Arrival Post: (possibly to be edited after next week’s episode)
Raylan was reasonably sure he was sober.
He’d left the bar before having too many drinks, and though he had thought about continuing when he got back to the hotel if Winona was out, he’d made sure he’d be fine to drive. So when he stepped out of the bar and into a small room instead of a parking lot, he stopped and promptly tried to walk back. But the door behind him was neither the door to the bar, nor was it unlocked.
Now he was worried.
He’d either gone crazy - possible, but sudden, he felt - or he’d lost time, which was really no less worrying. He was still carrying his sidearm, which was something. A quick sweep of the room revealed no cameras or bugs, with the possible exception of the phone on the desk. It appeared to be off, but that could mean anything. A quick read of the pamphlet lying next to the device gave him no real clues about how he’d gotten from Harlan to here, but assured him he was way over his head. More than usual, even.
Finally, he turned the phone on and started browsing the posts that he could access. He was not immediately aware of broadcasting as he browsed, and his face betrayed displeasure but not panic. That might come later, but for now, it would be more productive to find out how to get out of the room, and from there, home.
Third-Person Action Post:
It wasn’t clear, Raylan thought, whether he was just bleeding or whether he was bleeding to death. It occurred to him he should probably be more concerned about the distinction.
The thing about Miami was that it always felt like it was on the edge of raining, but the sky was dead blue. The humidity, he supposed, or maybe just that he knew rain could come on so sudden in Florida. He wondered if it was going to start raining before he got himself together enough to stand up, and figured there was an even chance. Didn’t really matter either way.
The bullet, he thought, had gone through his shoulder, missing the veins and arteries in the collar area. He couldn’t really see, but the fact he was still conscious was a good sign. He took off his tie and pressed it to the wound, which didn’t do much, but the pressure grounded him a little and let him get shakily to his feet. The man was either a terrible shot or hadn’t been shooting to kill; either way, it’d been a mistake. Raylan’d seen the woman he killed a few days ago, and letting the marshal live wasn’t going to earn the murderer any bonus points. The carvings had been elegant, even, and brutal. It was the kind of thing they generally called the FBI for, but he’d been an escaped convict.
And Raylan didn’t want to give the FBI the satisfaction. Blinking his eyes a few times to clear his vision, he put one foot in front of the other and headed back to his car. A sensible man would go to the hospital and then file a report.
But he knew where the man was going, and thought that he could get there first. Besides. Sense was overrated.
Character Name: Raylan Givens
Username: toooldforlosing
Fandom: Justified
Played By: Timothy Olyphant
Icon: http://l-userpic.livejournal.com/103260137/28861687
Canon Character Section (disregard if applying for an original character)
Physical Description: Raylan is a youngish-looking 41 years old, in excellent shape from his work as a U.S. Marshal. He is 6’0”, muscular but not heavy, with a strong jaw and a range of fairly hilarious facial expressions between long, steady glares. He often wears a particular off-white cowboy hat, and almost always a firearm.
Sexuality: Raylan likes the ladies, and the ladies like Raylan.
He was married for nine years (I am still trying to verify this from canon, and reserve the right to correct myself, but more than five and less than ten, I’m fairly sure), and still carries a torch for his ex, Winona Hawkins. There’s no evidence he was untrue to her while they were married, but he certainly hasn’t been celibate since, either. On returning to Kentucky, he began an ill-advised relationship with Ava Crowder, which ended shortly after she caught him sleeping with Winona (who was, coincidentally, married to someone else at the time).
He’s not purposely an asshole to women, but he makes terrible romantic choices. That said, he’s very good in bed, and enjoys sex for its own sake. It just generally comes with a host of complications.
History: (adapted from http://justified.wikia.com/wiki/Raylan_Givens, expanded by typist)
Raylan Givens was born in 1970 and raised in the rural backwaters of Harlan County, Kentucky. Raised by his father Arlo Givens and his step-mother Helen Givens, Raylan had somewhat of a turbulent childhood. This was mostly due to Arlo, who took part in many criminal enterprises. Raylan’s mother, Frances, died when Raylan was very young, but neither she nor Helen could put much of a damper on Arlo’s activities. It is through his father that Raylan became very familiar with Kentucky's criminal world.
The best way to rebel, of course, was to be an honest man. Raylan did well in high school, despite both playing baseball and working in a coal mine. He and Boyd Crowder, the son of Arlo’s associate and Harlan crime-lord Bo, worked together in life-threatening situations with Boyd as the “powder man.” However, a year or two after high school, Raylan went off to college and Boyd went to Kuwait for Desert Storm.
Raylan became a US Marshal, and married a court reporter named Winona. The couple lived in Lexington for a time, where Raylan taught firearms at Glynco, among other duties. There was a great deal of chemistry between the pair, but his job created tension. These tensions weren’t helped by the fact that Raylan wanted children, but Winona didn’t agree as long as Raylan’s job regularly put his life in danger.
When Raylan was transferred to Miami, Winona didn’t move with him. The pair divorced a short time later, and she remarried, a real estate developer named Gary Hawkins. Raylan, always inclined to put his job first, threw himself into his work with a gusto that gave his superiors a headache more often than it didn’t.
Matters came to a head in March 2010, when he gave Thomas Buckley 24 hours to get out of Miami on pain of being shot on sight. Buckley, who’d murdered a man but let Raylan live, thought it was a joke, but pulled on Raylan first leading Raylan to shoot him to death at close range. The DOJ was less than impressed, and his boss sent Raylan back to Lexington, despite his protests to the contrary.
When he returned to Kentucky, his old friend and new boss Art Mullen immediately handed him a mess in Harlan. Boyd Crowder had returned from Kuwait and become a general miscreant, refusing to pay taxes, spouting anti-semitism, and destroying property. His sister-in-law, Ava, had also recently murdered her husband. Raylan promptly got enmeshed in the situation between an attraction to Ava and a strange relationship with Boyd that didn’t prevent a shootout in Ava’s dining room that put Boyd in the hospital (and then in prison pending trial).
In the next year or so, Raylan re-encountered and became even further estranged from Arlo; got involved with Ava against all better judgment, but then left her for Winona in even worse judgment; started a strange frienemy-ship with Boyd and semi-friendships with his fellow marshals; and collected a long list of people who wanted to kill him. He comes to Baedal fresh off the season two finale, which will air May 4; I will let mods know if this will change his characterization in any intense way.
Powers: No supernatural powers.
Talents/Abilities:: He is a trained US Marshal, with the attendant skills and experience. Raylan is almost a preternaturally good shot and a quick draw with a sidearm.
Personality: This is all you need to know: http://youtu.be/wVT0B3pPsa8
…no, just kidding, I actually did write this section.
Raylan presents himself as a calm lawman who, despite a tendency to quietly smartmouth, also has a gift for defusing situations. He is generally very polite and well-mannered, and though his holler roots are something he likes to keep at arm’s length, he doesn’t pretend to be more urban or sophisticated than he is. Raylan generally values directness, in himself and others, but isn’t rude unless pushed.
This, while not false exactly, is also more who Raylan would like to be than who he is. Under that, there is a deep current of rage that he keeps tightly leashed, but which breaks out now and then. He has low tolerance for unrepentant criminal behavior of any kind, but especially violence against women or children. This lack of tolerance tends to collide explosively with his talent for firearms. He’s shot many more people than the average marshal, and killed more than the average law enforcement of any stripe. That said, he has a keen sense of judgment, and there are lines he won’t cross; for example, he won’t allow someone to testify falsely, even if their doing so would put a murderer in prison. He has a rigidly defined sense of fair play that doesn’t always align with the law, sometimes more strict and sometimes less than legality would allow, but from which he seldom deviates.
Object: Raylan doesn’t set much store by material possessions. His hat and his firearm would be on his person - I don’t think he’d have an additional object. He’d find an extra ammo clip reassuring, but I don’t know how personal that is; I leave it to mod discretion.
Reason for playing: I was attracted to Raylan as a character almost instantly, and enabled into playing him in Xanadu to try him out. I was initially a little unsure about his voice, but I’ve really come to like playing him a great deal as I gained confidence. I think he’s ready now for a game with more plot, and to get out and about with more people.
Gods: Eliandre. Eliandre forever. He is like her spirit animal. Justice is intensely important to him, and the death connection is also appropriate, given his penchant for shooting wrongdoers a bit more than the law would strictly condone.
Writing Samples
First-Person Network Post:
[voice]
Right, so. Spatters. Mentioned in this helpful literature we were handed. Anyone know who or what they are, or where I can find them?
I think I’m gonna register a complaint.
First-Person Journal Post:
Well, you always knew coming back to Kentucky was a bad idea. And you knew seeing Winona again was a worse one.
You knew this job would probably kill you one day.
Don’t it stink to be right all the time?
Third-Person Arrival Post: (possibly to be edited after next week’s episode)
Raylan was reasonably sure he was sober.
He’d left the bar before having too many drinks, and though he had thought about continuing when he got back to the hotel if Winona was out, he’d made sure he’d be fine to drive. So when he stepped out of the bar and into a small room instead of a parking lot, he stopped and promptly tried to walk back. But the door behind him was neither the door to the bar, nor was it unlocked.
Now he was worried.
He’d either gone crazy - possible, but sudden, he felt - or he’d lost time, which was really no less worrying. He was still carrying his sidearm, which was something. A quick sweep of the room revealed no cameras or bugs, with the possible exception of the phone on the desk. It appeared to be off, but that could mean anything. A quick read of the pamphlet lying next to the device gave him no real clues about how he’d gotten from Harlan to here, but assured him he was way over his head. More than usual, even.
Finally, he turned the phone on and started browsing the posts that he could access. He was not immediately aware of broadcasting as he browsed, and his face betrayed displeasure but not panic. That might come later, but for now, it would be more productive to find out how to get out of the room, and from there, home.
Third-Person Action Post:
It wasn’t clear, Raylan thought, whether he was just bleeding or whether he was bleeding to death. It occurred to him he should probably be more concerned about the distinction.
The thing about Miami was that it always felt like it was on the edge of raining, but the sky was dead blue. The humidity, he supposed, or maybe just that he knew rain could come on so sudden in Florida. He wondered if it was going to start raining before he got himself together enough to stand up, and figured there was an even chance. Didn’t really matter either way.
The bullet, he thought, had gone through his shoulder, missing the veins and arteries in the collar area. He couldn’t really see, but the fact he was still conscious was a good sign. He took off his tie and pressed it to the wound, which didn’t do much, but the pressure grounded him a little and let him get shakily to his feet. The man was either a terrible shot or hadn’t been shooting to kill; either way, it’d been a mistake. Raylan’d seen the woman he killed a few days ago, and letting the marshal live wasn’t going to earn the murderer any bonus points. The carvings had been elegant, even, and brutal. It was the kind of thing they generally called the FBI for, but he’d been an escaped convict.
And Raylan didn’t want to give the FBI the satisfaction. Blinking his eyes a few times to clear his vision, he put one foot in front of the other and headed back to his car. A sensible man would go to the hospital and then file a report.
But he knew where the man was going, and thought that he could get there first. Besides. Sense was overrated.