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The Box Mods ([personal profile] boxmods) wrote2013-09-05 01:34 pm
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Make sure to read the Rules and FAQ prior to applying to this game.
Reserves ✖ Taken Characters

You can check any Box community profile or the bottom of the Latest Page to see when the app round is open. If you reply before the mods have added the "Apps are Open" comment, your app will be deleted. We also have an application queue page, which gets updated during app rounds.

Applications are not processed until the last day of the application round, due to the way our new character introduction logs are set up. Characters are placed and occasionally given items in ways which encourage character relation building from the start. This means we need to know approximately how many people we have coming in so we can plan it out.

✖ Copy and paste the form below to fill out your application.
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Samples may be reused from previous apps or linked so long as they fit the qualifications.
However, you may only link for one sample. The other must be written.
Linked samples must be from within the last 12 months.



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Apps are only unscreened if the player wishes for them to be.


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Hemlock Grove | Peter Rumancek | Reserved

[personal profile] velveteenwolf 2013-09-21 01:59 am (UTC)(link)
Player Information
Player name: Puppy
Contact: lotuspromises @ AIM, puppiesandrazors @ Plurk
Are you over 18: Yes.
Characters in The Box Already: None,

Character Information
Character Name: Peter Rumancek
Canon: Hemlock Grove
Canon Point: Right after realizing Letha is dead. Middle of the chapter You Must Make Your Heart Steel'.
Is your character Dead, Undead or Alive: Alive. He has died once, if that matters.
History: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hemlock_Grove
Personality:“...men do become wolves and if you have the privilege to be witness to such a transformation it is the most natural and right thing you have ever seen.”

Peter is a teenage boy with an excessively lax parental influence, no stable home, and he likes it that way. The Rumanceks are different from the demographic, they're poorer, they're Romani (despite being half-Italian), and all of these combine to make them outcasts in the depressed, white bread town of Hemlock Grove. Peter, however, while attuned to the dichotomy of have and have-not, continually sees himself as the wealthy one. He might be a thief (of items too small to really be considered stealing), he might have to scramble for pocket change, but he is rich in life experiences that the small town people with their closed mindedness can never imagine. Also, he's a werewolf, which is about the coolest thing in the world, for your information.

Peter is charming, he's a showman with a long line of useless skills, stage magic tricks and quick fingers to ensnare people's attention, but he is never well-liked, even before the murders. He finds companionship among other outcasts, until rumor and speculation eventually deprive him of that as well. He describes the people he sat with at lunch as “the kids who wore dog collars and misquoted the Existentialists”, and the closest contact he has is a girl that leaves him voice messages that are nothing but breathy moaning. He still never has a friend, a point that is repeated and driven home when he befriends the upir Roman Godfrey, almost against his will.

He abhors emotional connections, doing his best to avoid them like the plague that he considers them. A hard truth is that he has never needed someone as much as they need him. He has a constant fear of being put in a cage. Which is both literal, and figurative. He's a werewolf, and he seems at least passingly aware of hunters, of being locked up, imprisoned. He's scared of other peoples' needs, of having to deal with people in an emotional context, of having people's feelings pressed upon him. This is not just inclusive of the people he has the closest connections with, but almost typifies their interactions – trying to hold him down, while Peter has at least one foot out the door.

He has a very evolved “hierarchy of shit he can do without”. And that amounts to, quite honestly, just about everything that doesn't directly affect him. He is dragged, digging in his heels, to dealing with the vargulf that's killing people, and to emotional attachment to both Roman and Letha. Cousins and pretty much ticking time bombs of privilege who are so far removed from his world that neither of them will ever understand the things he fears. One of his initial reactions to Roman comes in an attempt at glibness to push the other teen away, an admitted discomfort of emotional intimacy and a fear of the other boy's needs that ends with the sentiment that he “wouldn't touch that with your dick”. But, he finds himself caught in a no-win situation. They either become the warriors that Roman so desperately craves, or Peter risks the hunter sniffing at his trail, and faces the rumors about the fact that he's a werewolf. He describes it as “a choice between being fucked in the ass or fucked in the mouth”.

And yet, after the dust settles, the vargulf is gone, Roman asks him how he wasn't scared. Peter's response is that he was terrified, that he couldn't have done it without him. There isn't really one moment that defines when the relationship turns; it's a combination of moments. It's shared cigarettes, and jibes they both toss that around, it's shared dreams and the fact that when Peter pushes him away that Roman keeps coming back no matter how badly he fucks up. Peter might have a foot out the door, but Roman keeps pulling him back. It's something they can't resist, and it's hinted that Peter walks away a lot, given how Roman talks about expecting him to come back again when Peter breaks things off between them. It's clear that he really does care about Roman, because at the Mill, he has a realization that the place isn't good for Roman and then he needs to get him out. Of course, things with those two never go quite so simply.

The ties that bind him to Letha are different, but no less complex. Peter might not love Letha, but by the time she dies, he definitely feels something for her. Initially, their interaction is a way to get to her father, who has information that might relate to the vargulf, as well as about Roman's mother Olivia, who Peter is guardedly cautious about. After cutting things off with Roman, Letha more or less pushes herself on him and they have sex, but this isn't what manages to tie her to him. It's moments where she becomes more than the silly girl that talks about angels, such as when she literally throws herself on him when he's getting beaten up by the boys at school to protect him, when she so desperately wants to stop the deputies that are planning to kill him, when she holds his wolf after he fights with the vargulf. He can see that she is full of love and light and life, and as much as Roman, she refuses to let go of the boy that doesn't feel like she does.

And then she's dead and gone, and it rips him apart, destroys his ability to hold onto what stability he'd managed to find, even if his natural inclinations would eventually have driven him from it. He's depressed, he eats less, and his last connection is with a passing dog in a car, sharing a silent howl.

Persistence wins the day when it comes to Peter, friendship or otherwise; he tries to avoid confrontations where possible, so the right person seems to be able to get under his skin no matter how much he sees attachment as its own sort of cage. Tied into this, is the fact that Peter hates violence. Both in general, but especially when it's directed at him. This isn't just part of his personality, it's also biological. He has “abnormally low levels of adrenal glucocorticoid, indicating that the animal ... is by nature non-aggressive”. However, this doesn't mean he wont fight. He understands necessity, he knows when violence is the only choice. And it might absolutely terrify him, but when the cards are down, he'll be there. If he has to. He has little faith in his own propensity toward courage.

But, when things aren't do-or-die, he's mostly an exceptionally poorly behaved teenager. He's a pervert, he listens to people having sex in the bathroom, reads 'tits and motorcycle' magazines in the cafeteria, he drinks as if he doesn't even recognize that he's underage. He seems to have little respect or acknowledgment for the things that public school values as education. Norman describes it as “Peter was a different breed. He was not our neighbor. He did not want the things we wanted.” At the end of the day, Peter is a gypsy, and a werewolf, and he'd see two left shoes as far more useful than any white picket fence.

“You can play Mr. Big Stuff but I've seen you cry your eyes out when Nicolae said the utility guy was Leatherface.”
Abilities/Strengths and Weaknesses:”When the moon is full do you walk in the skin of a wolf?”

Peter does walk in the skin of a wolf. He's a werewolf. His change seems to occur at sunset rather than when the full moon reaches its apex. The earth calls him by his secret name, and it forces him to change. This is not a pleasant or pretty process. He literally sheds his skin, in a show of blood and gore, with the wolf crawling out from inside of him. He eats the remnants of his own body, and is physically reborn when he shifts back at dawn. The only way to actually kill a werewolf permanently, seems to be to cut off their head. The fangs of a werewolf are said to be of exaggerated size and curvature, and that when the jaws of a werewolf close, there isn't a force on Earth that can escape them.

The wolf Peter shifts into is midnight black with gold eyes, and is significantly larger than a normal wolf and seems to possess increased physical prowess as well. At the canon point he's from, he can shift against the moon, although it's a no-less grizzly process. Shifting back to human leaves him exhausted most times, and he has about enough energy to crawl back into bed.

He has an exceptionally receptive Swadisthana chakra, which is said to give him access to that “secret, sacred frequency of the universe”. This seems to mostly translate out into a bad feeling, intuition that he perceives as agitation in his balls when something bad is happening / going to happen / has happened, mostly for him personally. Through it, he has a connection to the earth, such as allows him to figure out the site in the park where the girl was murdered. It also allows him to recognize other supernaturals most of the time.

Samples
Network/Action Spam Sample:[It starts with cursing, with some fumbling with the device: and this is why Peter never wanted Roman's fucking iPhone. All this expensive first world bullshit.]

Yo.

[There's finally a wave of fingers, although it seems lackluster. Flat blue eyes set into a scruffy face as the image finally catches something more engaging than the floor swings into view. Oh, hey. He's in a pair of boxers that look a little overworn, and he's on the furry side for a teen boy as slender as he is. There's a stylized 'g' tattooed on the left side of his ribs.]

Does anyone have any smokes? I don't do charity, but I'll trade something for it.

[There is a pause, he seems like he's about to cut the feed, but there's a moment of hesitance that ends in mute cursing. He doesn't care, none of this fucking matters. Fuck this place.]

And pants. I guess.

Prose Log Sample:
Peter Rumancek was a gypsy, and it made anywhere his home as much as anywhere else. This place was a town like any other, but they'd been here for three months, Peter and his mother, and after everything that had happened in Hemlock, that was damn-near some kind of fucking record.

He's in the middle of some freak hurricane, with the students all huddled in classrooms, and the teacher decides to send him to get flashlights from the janitor's closet. It doesn't help matters that the full moon's tonight and Peter's antsy; he already feels like he's crawling out of skin, even though he's got a few hours yet. It's a quiver at the base of his spine, a whisper in his ear that dances with every drop of rain.

He leans against the door, his leg tapping, unable to stay still. Flashlights seem much less important that not being locked up in that box of a classroom, anyway. He can't stand cages. He knows there's something wrong here. He can feel it like an ache, but even Destiny thinks this is the sort of shitstorm you can't dodge by running. He hates this shit, and he's tempted to bolt anyway. Fuck death and fuck dying and fuck goddamn people.

It's a place like any other, but he'd almost liked it. Not home, because nowhere is home except when he drops his human jaw to the ground. But it had been nice enough. He likes the smoke on late summer afternoons, and lazy afternoons after school with cheap smokes and cheaper beer and showing off with a lazy grin for some birdbrain girl fascinated by the fact that he's a gypsy. Sometimes, he wants to tell them he's a werewolf because at least that is pretty damn awesome. The fucking hilarious thing, is that the stories have it all wrong: being a werewolf isn't a curse. It's being a fucking rockstar.

He dangles a beat-up pack of cigarettes in his long fingers, a flicker of his blue eyes as he looks up at the ceiling. He taps one from the back and he curses, kicks his foot against the door. Because there's still a Roman-shaped blindspot standing beside him.
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immuno: (Default)

reserved • lydia martin • TEEN WOLF

[personal profile] immuno 2013-09-21 03:34 am (UTC)(link)
Player Information
Player name: tiffany
Contact: [plurk.com profile] protects
Are you over 18: y, 22
Characters in The Box Already: n/a

Character Information
Character Name: Lydia Martin
Canon: Teen Wolf
Canon Point: 3x12 - Lunar Ellipse
History: here
Personality:
Lydia Martin has many good qualities, but in addition to all of them are some that make her a little prickly and tough to get close to. She's vain; not only does she like fashion, but she likes indulging in her own appearance, and she puts high value on these things because she uses it as a weapon and a defense - she also highly values attractiveness in other people. She's critical and snidely sarcastic, even with the people that she deeply values. And she's deflective and defensive, withholding parts of herself rather than invite people to get to know her or see something genuine in her, because she packs her weakness (see: feelings) away to present something flawless to the outside.

But her good qualities are great. Lydia is brilliant; and not just book-smart to a level of genius, but she's also tactically and practically clever. She can adapt a situation to her advantage - not only socially, but in life-or-death scenarios, she's the girl you want in your foxhole. She can make a self-igniting molotov cocktail in a chemistry room, she realizes that there's a reason Jennifer Blake was alarmed by her banshee status and that there's something she can do to help, she catches on that the coach's whistle had dosed them all with wolfsbane; Lydia is often the one who's observant enough to figure out a problem's source, and start the road to a solution. She reads about thermodynamics and learned Archaic Latin for fun, and she's also expressed aspirations of a Field's Medal.

Math and book-learning aren't the only aspects of her life that Lydia has high ambitions regarding. She's doggedly pursuant of the things she wants, from pushing Jackson to be better so they could remain a power couple where both of them were socially worthy of one another, to trying to rope Scott McCall for herself. She sees social power, and she wants to grab it. Her strong ambition ties into a desire for power and control, particularly in a social setting, where Lydia has spent a great deal of time learning how to navigate and manipulate situations to her benefit. She's a political animal, ready to throw herself into something and take charge of it.

In this way, Lydia is a natural leader. She treats her high school life like a political career, doing whatever she has to in order to stay at the top of the food chain - most notably, hiding any sense of weakness behind her considerable beauty and charm. She isn't afraid to play dumb in order for people to be less aware that she's playing them, either, and she's perfectly fine doing it because she knows the truth of her intelligence. She holds back any emotions or reactions that may make her appear weak, disguising the vulnerability with make-up, gloves, and a smile. She uses a mask of her very real confidence and her very real talents and hides anything messy or weak behind them. Even injuries, from the alpha and from herself, get disguised.

When she can't hide behind that anymore, and her weakness does become apparent through her acute PTSD and her fugue state getting out, she doesn't stop trying. In fact, she tries harder, demands more of those around her, and fights more to build herself back up because she knows that she deserves to be at the top because she knows how good she is.

However, that slip of control and the glimpse of vulnerability also creates a self-perpetuating cycle. She feels like she's lost her grip because people are seeing past her mask at the very genuinely vulnerable, genuinely emotional teenage girl within, and it makes her more frightened and desperate because she relies on that to hide behind and it's scary to think someone might see her as she is; as a teenage girl, just as much ruled by her emotions as any other.

Her emotional response really only comes forward in full force in reference to Jackson - the cracks in her armor begin as he starts to behave on the borderline of abusive with her, and when he dumps her there's a glimpse of genuine hurt. But as season 2 wears on and Lydia feels a greater loss of control as Peter Hale controls her and she spends half the season tripping out, and she becomes aware that Jackson is hurt and in danger, she full-on loses it and goes into hysterics. She admits she should hate him, but that she doesn't, because love isn't something she gets to have control over and it's something that makes her weak.

This starts the road to a loss of identity in Lydia Martin. If she can't be the girl who keeps it together, and she starts to be able to hide her emotional response less and less as she needs to express it in order to cope with each additional body she finds, then who is she? The answer becomes apparent as she relies less on that mask. Though she's always been direct, she becomes even more direct about emotional situations - telling Allison that she loves her, welcoming Allison to discuss her feelings, and expressing how freaked out she is by all of it to Stiles as the bodies continue to stack. She's not just direct with her demands and criticisms, anymore, but with who Lydia Martin is.

But at the same time, she overcompensates in other areas. While she'll be more emotional and direct with those she considers friends (whether she'd say it out loud or not), she also buries any feelings of loss over Jackson moving to London, and spurns any chance of feelings developing in other areas. She seeks out purely sexual relationships with a variety of her classmates to fill the gap Jackson left, and refuses to let them move past that because she doesn't want to be in that position again - or feel that loss again, or let anyone treat her like that again. She brazenly uses her sexual relationship with Aiden in order to gain information about the alpha pack for Scott and the others, demonstrating a total lack of sentiment for him, and when she kisses Stiles out of his panic attack, she dodges by saying she'd just heard it would work somewhere and had nothing to do with actual concern, trying to deflect talking about it as an actual kiss and framing it as "making him hold his breath."

As season 3 progresses, Lydia develops a better sense of identity, more heavily reliant on her honest self, emotional response and all, than on setting up a mask. She still does the latter with the general population, and she still does it well, but she's managed to develop actual friends instead of friends that serve her purposes, and with them, she can self-express. This comes primarily out of her embracing of her status as a banshee, which is also what built into her loss of identity. She had no idea what she was, only that she was something, and it represented her uncertainty and sense of loss. As she learned to embrace it, and try to welcome that in so she could try to be useful and find the bodies before it happened, as she fought back against Jennifer Blake and found pride in her ability to survive rather than something to disguise under make-up like her previous injuries, and as she got a name for it, she learned who Lydia Martin had become, and that it was okay to express the whole of herself around her friends - shrieking terror over bodies found and all.

While she comes into herself, it allows her to grow out of herself so to speak. Going along with her focus becoming less self-centered, she becomes more invested in her friends. Once they're finally honest with her, and the feeling of betrayal and being excluded wears off as they stop lying to her and hiding things from her, Lydia is able to invest herself in her friends. Their opinions become important, they gain access to new parts of her, and she is willing to commit herself to them. She takes an interest in welcoming Allison to talk about her problems, she directly points out that she loves her, and most notably, Allison believing her in Motel California is monumentally important to Lydia because she's so uncertain of herself, and she's being told by someone who had left her out of the loop for so long that Allison believes her. Has faith and trust in her.

It's something that couldn't have mattered the same way before Lydia began to open herself up and grow. Similarly, the way she grows to rely on Stiles when she finds the bodies shows an ability to open herself up to him, and a trust she places in him that she's never really had in others because prior to S3 she was so stunningly self-reliant. Lydia discovers that there's a new, different kind of strength to be found not just in surviving and masking the damage, but in being able to rely on other people and let them in - and in exchange, diving into them. She doesn't blink at the thought of helping Stiles and Scott however she can once she starts to try and take possession of her banshee abilities, and she even confronts Peter Hale for the first time since his invasion of her mind to do it, showing she's developed more bravery as a result of her support system too.

Abilities/Strengths and Weaknesses:
Lydia Martin is for all intents and purposes, a normal human from what we can gather of her strengths and weaknesses. She doesn't appear to have any enhanced abilities or particular kryptonite so to speak. Her main weakness comes from this - in a world of werewolves, druids and kanimas, she's just a girl, a girl who values intelligence and fashion over anything physical, and leaves her in no position to be fighting physically.

That said, she's exceptionally observant and analytical, and she's canonically skilled in ice-skating, a classically trained dancer according to the creators, and knows both Classic and Archaic Latin.

Additionally, being a banshee seems to provide Lydia with a short list of abilities. In addition to acting as something of a psychic harbinger of death, who screams when she feels it coming and always manages to be the one to turn up the bodies because she's subconsciously drawn to them, she's also uniquely immune to the bite of an alpha werewolf. She doesn't turn, but she also doesn't show any of the nasty side effects of a rejected bite.


Samples
First Person Sample:
here and test drive

Third Person Sample:
She'd cried.

Allison didn't need to know about it, but she'd cried - alone, in her room when darkness had fallen and it sank in that he was really gone, she'd spent hours with tears trickling steadily down her cheeks and into her pillow, bunched haphazardly under her head while she lay out on her bed, half-covered by the blankets.

Things with Jackson had never been some fantasy-worthy image of the perfect relationship. They'd fought, they'd hurt each other - that had gone both ways, with Lydia pushing him and Jackson pushing back, and harder. Pushing her away while only making her more aware of the fact that he wasn't just some Ken doll status symbol to attach to her arm, she felt for him. She loved him.

And now, he was gone. And in front of her friends, she'd paint on her makeup and brush it off her shoulders like it was forgettable, but it wasn't forgettable. He wasn't forgettable for her. He'd gotten to her, crept under her skin, and she'd let it happen and she'd let him treat her like - And she loved him despite all of that, despite knowing she shouldn't, despite knowing how much better Lydia Martin deserved.

So, she cried. And when she stopped crying, when she'd hollowed herself out and she was all out of tears, she buried it. That void that he'd left when he vanished to London was something she could cover up, but not something that she'd ever honestly fill because Jackson had made her weak and Lydia was not weak. He'd gotten to her and she'd do better from now on.

She'd find someone she could keep as just some Ken doll, and with Jackson never far from her mind for those first few months, it wasn't hard to do. She'd smile pretty and she'd let them kiss her and she'd let them do a lot of other things for her, too, but she'd never give herself over like she had with Jackson. She'd never allow their benefit to become her priority.

"You can go now." She sits up on the bed, pulling her nightgown down to cover her upper thighs. From beside her, a panting teenage boy gives a muffled 'huh?' as if somehow her request was intellectually challenging. "You. Go. I'm busy." Swinging her legs off the bed, Lydia stands and walks to the mirror, pushing her hair up and tweaking fly-aways back into place to disguise the just-fucked look she'd taken on.

A beat passes, and realizing he hadn't seemed to acquiesce to what could only be too clear, she turns around with a look that's shifted from good-natured to critical.

"Am I speaking Urdu here? Get out."

With Lydia's sharp tone directed unmistakably at him, the boy scrambles out of the bed and, uncertainty evident, grabs for his clothes to put them back on. He opens his mouth as he makes his way for the door, ready to say something, but at the expectant arch of her eyebrows, quickly decides better of it and just makes a silent exit.
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Dangan Ronpa | Celestia Ludenberg | Reserved

[personal profile] gokigenyou 2013-09-21 05:22 am (UTC)(link)
Sorry to bring this stuff up again, but the LP linked for history uses Monobear, Funimation, Spike Chunsoft, and NISA are using Monokuma, so I went with the latter. If you'd prefer the former used instead just let me know.

Spoilers for Dangan Ronpa through Chapter 3
shambler: (111)

Warm Bodies | R | Reserved (I'm okay with unscreening)

[personal profile] shambler 2013-09-21 05:50 am (UTC)(link)
Player Information
Player name: Camille
Contact: timefreeze @ plurk
Are you over 18: Yes
Characters in The Box Already: N/A

Character Information
Character Name: R
Canon: Warm Bodies
Canon Point: In the airplane starting in on Perry's leftover brain, right before Julie makes escape attempt 2
Is your character Dead, Undead or Alive: Undead
History: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Warm_Bodies_%28film%29
Personality:

His personality is surprising in that R actually has one for a zombie beyond kill/eat/exist. He remembers enough about being a human that he wants to know more about who he was, what the world around him was like, who the others were before they died. R dislikes hurting people, although rational thought tends to go out the window once he’s hungry enough or caught up in that pack mentality. He’s also shown to have wry humor with the way he views his unlife and his fellow zombies, as well as remorse and guilt after he’s killed.

Usually what drives R are the general zombie things: shamble around from place to place, following a routine of things he might’ve done when alive (for examples riding on escalators every day, whenever the power flickers on in the airport). Go out and eat some humans, come back, start again. Monotony personified. R likes to hoard mementos, music, syllables. Every word he can force out is an achievement. R tends to waver between the feelings he’s still capable of and the apathy of a zombie. He yearns sometimes wordlessly for something more, acknowledging the tedium of every day, every year, and wanting change at the same time.

Interacting with people is usually about as awkward as it can get with a zombie, even when you’re not trying to eat them. The fact he can’t translate his thoughts into coherent words serves as a constant frustration that he’s not even half a person. He has a habit of falling into long silences when he thinks, drifting away in the middle of conversations. It’s not unusual between zombies: between humans and zombies, it’s just plain awkward. When he speaks, he tries to make every word count.

Love in several forms motivates him in Warm Bodies: his rescue and relationship with Julie is because of the shreds of love he’s capable of. He’s shown to be willing to head into the den of humans for the sake of love, following Julie there despite the almost certainty of being shot on sight. Guilt over killing Julie’s boyfriend also haunts him, preventing R from at first admitting he was the one who ate him when Julie asks. At the same time, he refuses to lie and say it was another zombie, either, eventually coming out and telling Julie to her face. It’s also implied from the prequel The New Hunger that he was willing to let himself turn in order to use the last of his bullets saving the woman he died next to – she’s shot in the head, while R wakes up next to her with the pistol in his hand and a bite on his thigh, surrounded by other dead zombies. It's not clear who she is to him, if she's a relative, a girlfriend, maybe just a random girl he'd been surviving with. Either way, he felt close enough to give her a way out he couldn't give himself.

He also wishes he could have a better connection to the other corpses, wanting to feel friendship and a closeness that doesn't exist in his world. R struggles to form the same connections he might've once had before, but has a habit of spooking the others aside from M.

Overall, R is generally a decent person who’s happened to kill more people than he can count. He means well when he means anything. Additionally, he’s still something of a romantic, especially in his interactions with Julie, a girl he saves from the other zombies. He has a way of presenting himself as both matter-of-fact and a bit sappy at the same time, especially with how he tries to communicate his feelings to Julie through his records.

Abilities/Strengths and Weaknesses: R’s strengths and weaknesses stem from the same thing: he’s dead, he’s stuck and he knows it. Being a zombie means he can only die through de-braining or starving to death. Any other trauma is an inconvenience. He can survive injuries anywhere else on his body, whether it’s a chopped off arm or he gets stabbed – he’ll keep going but can be slowed down or crippled. Bites from him could come with infection and zombification (would have to be something worked out if that’d be okay OOCly first). He’s reduced to mostly shuffling and loping. The times he’s shown running in canon have been when Julie was in danger, but I’d like to keep him at a shuffle. Talking is insanely hard, R having to take it a syllable at a time. Communication with him can be an issue, especially if things are down to the wire. He’s not the best at split second decisions either.

Samples
Network/Action Spam Sample: What happens when a zombie and a Scot are shipwrecked
Prose Log Sample:

[Content warning: Zombie gore/cannibalism]

The girl has pink hair. R’s never seen hair like that before.

She hasn’t seen him yet. Pink Hair’s too busy dodging the other zombies clawing at her, this Living girl with a build that said she was probably into cross country before some bad life choices and worse luck put her right where she is today. The strip mall’s seen better days; craters the size of cars have been bombed out in chunks, a few old corpses draped here and there, picked over and ripe for a tripping hazard. Despite the crowbar in her hand and the heavy hiker’s backpack rattling with salvage, she’s actually doing a lot better than some of the soldiers he's eaten. Like seriously, it’s impressive. R watches as M lumbers toward Pink while the hunting party closes in, his arms outstretched in a picture perfect zombie posture. It’s a classic. He winds up, he goes for it and… and he misses as Pink jukes left like a rabbit. She makes it look easy, does this duck-and-turn on her heel all in one motion.

M’s “what the hell!” expression would be funny if only R could laugh.

He’s too hungry to laugh. By some miracle he doesn’t groan like the others and alert Pink where he is. It’s one of those things he’s never quite figured out, the whole stupid groaning business. It feels like the in-thing to do. Doesn’t help when you’re trying to sneak up, though, and it’s annoyed him on a vague level that whenever another zombie started up with the groaning, he joined right in without thinking about it. He’s even moaned “brains!” a few times. Talk about embarrassing. He used to think he was better than that.

Now he’s loping along parallel to Pink Hair, a row of blood-splattered kiosks between them. Lights buzz on generators that still work. Obeying the new hunger gives R a boost – he’s not shuffling, he’s fast-shuffling and if it wasn’t for Pink’s panicked breaths and the scuff of her shoes, he could close his eyes and pretend he was out for a run too. It’s not a perfect run. His feet are lead. They don’t go always where he wants. His arms swing like they’re full of weights. But he’s moving and not shambling and something about it feels almost good. He misses running, he thinks.

R prefers this part. What comes next he wishes they could skip.

Pink finally makes her mistake. She vaults over a mannequin instead of going around. Her foot lands just a little wrong. She swings right instead of left, trying to cut around the kiosks and force the groaning Dead behind her to navigate through them. R’s waiting around the corner.

They come face to face, a dead boy staring at her and her crazy hair. It’s hot pink up close, a flash of neon searing into his dry eyeballs. For a split second they just stare, matching gape for gape, Pink horrified. Ask her about the hair, idiot flashes across R’s mind. She’s right there!

“Hugggh!” he says instead. “Rrggh!”

And just so they don’t have any misunderstandings, he’s already swiping at her, grabbing for the neon pony tail. His hand closes over it, she shrieks “get away!” or maybe even a “no!” and swings the crowbar at his head. Misses. R pushes instead of tugging toward him. It’s not the usual zombie tactics. Pink’s taken by surprise; she trips on her feet and goes down. R’s on her, sinking his teeth into the first thing that gets in his way. Blood, Life wells into his mouth as he digs into her flesh. Pink rips her arm out of his mouth, panting, knowing it’s already over for her but still trying. It’s what makes her human.

He wishes he could feel the same way she does. What it feels like to go down fighting. Instead he just chews away on the chunk of skin and muscle he bit off. He’s still trying to hold her down when she smashes at him with the crowbar again. R rolls off, surprised, and when he gets up the rest of the pack are only feet away. M doesn’t even look at him as he lunges for Round Two with Pink, her screams cutting off as he goes for her jugular like a pro. The other corpses pile in. It doesn’t take long for her legs to stop twitching underneath the feeding frenzy. A puddle of blood seeps out, sharp and electric.

R never did find out how Pink got her hair like that. He doesn’t know her name because another zombie beats him to her brains and he gets left with her leg. M slaps him on the back when they finally leave, grunting sympathetically. He didn’t get any brains either. It sucks.

Sometimes you win some, you lose some.
Edited (typos - sorry about the editing D:) 2013-09-21 07:12 (UTC)
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diamondo: (Default)

Dangan Ronpa | Mondo Oowada | Reserved

[personal profile] diamondo 2013-09-21 08:27 pm (UTC)(link)
Linked for major spoilers!
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freesoldier: (12)

Castiel | Supernatural | Reserved

[personal profile] freesoldier 2013-09-21 10:58 pm (UTC)(link)
In the words of a... good friend, bite me.
Edited 2013-09-21 22:59 (UTC)
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Metal Gear Solid 3 | Ocelot | Reserved

[personal profile] yer_pretty_good 2013-09-22 02:05 am (UTC)(link)
You're pretty good...
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