I reject your reality and substitute in my own.|
[Most Recent Entries]
Below are the 7 most recent journal entries recorded in
|Tuesday, October 19th, 2010|
|Tower Royale Chapter 3: Room For Two
Floor 3 (room 1):
Elena Malik woke up in a very comfortable bed. As memory flooded back to her she sat up with a start and stared around her. She was in a nice looking room, pictures of men wearing various military uniforms were on the walls, there was shelving with some books on it, and a dresser against one wall. It looked like someone’s guest room. Elena sat confused, her last memories not matching up with her current surroundings. Then, the man from the lobby began speaking over a hidden speaker.
Elena kept herself calm and tried to assess her situation. It wasn’t good. She picked up the black bag sitting on the nightstand and found a large metal maglight inside. Hardly an ideal weapon for any situation, but it could have other uses.
For most people this game would be extremely distressing and they would want nothing more than to be far far away from it. Elena Malik was not most people. This situation just put her scientific curiosity into overdrive. She had made a career out of studying people in extreme situations. In fact, Dr. Malik had become a psychologist specifically due to her curiosity about the different ways that people would react to unusual situations. She had read books and written papers on what it took to drive different people to kill, and secretly she had always wondered what it would take to make her cross the line. Now it looked like she would get her chance to find out.
Dr. Malik knew what a dangerous situation she was in, but at that moment all she cared about was the research potential. This whole game was like the ultimate psychological test, and she would be right there to see the results. If she could survive this the paper she could write would put her in the forefront of the psychological world.
If she could survive.
Elena looked down at the maglight again. This was definitely not an ideal situation, but she would make the most of it. That was just the kind of person she was.
She looked around at the room again. Could this room truly be just a simple bedroom? Elena doubted it, and so she began her search to find what secrets this room hid. ----------
Floor 3 (room 4):
Taketatsu Fuyuka sat in the bed, vaguely listening as the strange man from before spoke. She hoped he wouldn’t forget about her again. She had been curious about what would be required to win the money, but after the weapons and gas she was now just worried and confused.
Finally, the translators voice came on, speaking in badly accented Japanese. But at least she could understand him. Fuyuka could not believe what she heard. It had to be a joke right? This couldn’t be real, it sounded like something out of an anime. In fact she was pretty sure she had heard about a book with this basic storyline. Or was it movie? She let her thoughts drift, but they quickly returned to her dark situation. And deep down she knew that this was now joke or story, it was all too real. What am I going to do?
Fuyuka realized immediately that she was at a distinct disadvantage. Her first thought was that she needed to find help, but how could she when she couldn’t even communicate with anyone? From what she had heard and experienced it was unlikely that anyone here knew Japanese, most the tourists she’d met hadn’t even bothered to learn more than a couple phrases. She had a gift for getting along with others, but she wasn’t sure if her skills would be enough when she couldn’t even talk to people, especially in a situation where people were going to be especially tense and paranoid. Not that Fuyuka would be quick to trust the people around her.
Fuyuka forced her mind off of that line of thought. She would survive. She had overcome all the obstacles put before her up to this point; she wasn’t going to let that change now.
She walked over to the wall where a long thin black bag was propped. She was almost convinced she would find Asuka Yuki’s magical staff in the bag. Not far off she thought as she looked at the quarterstaff that had been given to her as a weapon.
“Hmm…” Fuyuka looked at the staff a second before picking it up and twirling it around, humming Asuka’s theme song. The staff really was a lot like the one used by the character she most often portrayed, and after six months she had become pretty comfortable with it. While the moves she used on stage weren’t exactly made for real combat they at least gave her a feel for her weapon. “I can work with this.”
She decided to wait and practice with the staff for awhile before she ventured out. Fuyuka was not going to go looking for potential allies until she was sure she could defend herself. Besides, using the staff helped her keep her mind off of what lay ahead. ----------
Floor 3, Elena:
Dr. Malik was starting to think she had been wrong. “How disappointing,” Elena said to herself as she closed the door to the empty closet. She had already looked through everything on the bookshelves, in the dresser, even under the bed. Everything was boringly normal, except for a few unusual books on the shelves. But the novels on war and military biographies did seem appropriate given the circumstances. The last place she had to look was the drawer of the nightstand, which was locked.
She pulled on the drawer but couldn’t quite get it to open. So she tried banging on it with the maglight, but that didn’t seem to be doing any good. Now she knew she had found something good. She took a closer look at the nightstand and was happy to discover that the back was a much flimsier material; a couple of hits with the back of her flashlight had it broken. She ripped the rest of it off and reached her hand in.
Elena found something hard and square, she pulled it out, her excitement building. She didn’t even realize she was holding her breath until she let it out as she looked at what was in her hand.
It was a book.
Not exactly Gideon’s Bible. She thought as she looked at the large hardcover copy of The Art of War by Sun Tzu. Than again, given the circumstances… Dr. Malik chuckled at the sense of humor of whoever had left this. It was too bad, under different and more legal circumstances she might have gotten along with whoever was running this thing.
She threw the book on the bed and sighed. Elena was done wasting her time hunting through this room. She walked out the door and looked around. What she found was a normal, boring hallway that ran to the other side of the floor, with what appeared to be a hallway crossing down the middle. Across from her was another door, and she could see two more down on the other end of the hallway. Four rooms.
Without giving herself time to think she opened the door and entered the room across from hers. It looked very similar, though with a different selection of pictures, and likely books. She thought about searching this room, but after the time wasted in her own she decided to just move on. The cross hallway led to a dead end in one direction and a stairwell in the other. She kept walking down to the other doors and opened the mirror version of hers. Empty again.
“Only one room left.” Elena did not have high hopes at this point. But she opened it up and entered anyway, not even bothering to raise her flashlight in case she needed to fight.
She wouldn’t make that mistake again.
As she opened the door and walked in she glanced over just in time to see the young Asian women swing the wooden staff at her head.
"Fullmetal" Gabe Rosario - 2nd Basement (cells). Javelin, Taser.
Alma Talia Skye – 4th floor (ballroom), Remote mines (six), going to 5th
Taylor – 7th floor, Knitting needles (large, metal, Size 15)
Taketatsu Fuyuka - 3rd floor (room 4), Quarterstaff
Dr. Elena Malik - 3rd floor (room 4), Large Maglight. Current status - ???
1st Death – Matt Vega. Skewered by Fullmetal’s javelin, Chapter 1
91-100 Relax (94)
1-50 Practice w/ weapon (27)
56-100 Search room (95)
1-60 Find nothing (56)
65-85 check room down right (68)
|Tuesday, September 28th, 2010|
|Tower Royale Chapter 2: Strange Surroundings
Taylor Peters awoke in the middle of a library. She had never seen so many books before, then again growing up in a carnival meant she hadn’t seen a lot of books period. She walked between rows of tall book shelves lined with books. The entire room was full of them. Then the voice from the hidden speakers caught her attention.
A death match? Seriously? It was like something in a bad story. And now her she was, a lone sixteen year old girl who had stumbled into it. She had wanted a new life, that’s the whole reason she had run away from home, now it looked like she might get a very short life instead. Then again, if she could win she would be set. She would never have to be just another carnie; with that kind of money she could do anything. The possibilities made her smile. Who would have guessed that a simple attempt at hitchhiking would have resulted in a chance like this?
The possibility of dying was nothing new to Taylor, a girl who spent most days having knives thrown at her, often by a blindfolded man. At least this time she wouldn’t have to stand there and hope the guy hadn’t gotten too drunk the night before. No this time she could fight back. Finally she would be able to use her skills, be the main act rather than just an assistant.
Now if she could only find some knives.
She walked back to where she had started and picked up the thing black bag. Inside was a pair of metal knitting needles. Taylor looked down in disappointment, not only were these not knives, they weren’t even real weapons. She tried holding the needle like a knife. It could work. They were about a foot long and had enough weight and thickness to do some damage, but they certainly weren’t what she had been hoping for. What kind of death match gave out crappy weapons like this? Surely someone would have a knife, she would just have to find them.
In the meantime she would make do with what she had. Taylor tried throwing the needle like she would one of her knives, it didn’t work very well and there weren’t weighted right to make the point hit. She would have to stick with close range attacking.
Taylor found herself once again focusing on her surroundings. The rows of books made hiding easy, and she thought she might be able to climb up to the top of the shelves as well. This location definitely had some advantages. And than there were the books. Taylor walked around the room looking for anything interesting. It seemed like a full library, there were different sections and books on seemingly every topic.
She could lose herself in this room for hours. Taylor had never really been a big reader, but she hadn’t had many opportunities like this either. She was sure she could afford to waste a little time before she decided what her next move was.
Maniac Mike smiled as he watched the TVs. A death already? It was almost too good to be true. And even better it wouldn’t upset many of the gamblers as only a single person had taken the risk and bet on Mr. Vega; not surprising since he had the worst odds in the entire game.
“Apparently 200 to 1 odds weren’t high enough,” he muttered to himself “I will have to remember that for future games.”
Thinking about the betters made him think about the two upset parents who were likely still grumbling down below. He decided to check in on their daughter.
Alma Talia Skye had woken up in a room that did not match the message she had just heard. She was in what looked like a room meant to train dancers. One wall covered in mirrors, a bar running down the middle of another. A grand piano even sat on a raised platform in one corner. And across the room she could see an open door leading to what looked like a costume room. How could this be the setting of a horrible murder game?
Alma had listened in shock as the strange man called Sik had told them wt they were to do, and than sat frozen listening again as the translator began, hoping that she had somehow misheard. But the message was the same, even if it was given in a much more serious manner.
“What was I thinking?” Talia said to herself as the Japanese voice stopped talking, her tone that of stark disbelief.
When she had been offered the opportunity to participate in a game for a hundred million dollars she had jumped at the chance. She didn’t need the money; her family gave her all she needed to live a life of style, even allowing her to pursue the acting career she had always dreamed off. No, this was a chance to prove that she was good for more than looking pretty and playing hostess. She would make her parents proud with her own abilities and show everyone that she was more than just another pretty, spoiled, rich girl. Besides, reality shows were one of the best ways to get started in Hollywood these days. She had been sure that winning this game, whatever it was, would be the boost she needed to get her some real acting gigs. Not to mention that with a hundred million dollars in her pocket she wouldn’t need to rely on her parents anymore, at least for a little while.
But it had all gone horribly wrong. Rather than becoming famous, she was likely to become dead. And worst of all she wasn’t sure anyone would ever know what had happened. Her friends had known she signed up for some mystery contest, and they had told her what a fool she was being, but they didn’t know enough to find her. Why hadn’t she listened to them? Suddenly Alma wished she hadn’t decided to keep the whole thing a secret from her parents, they would have been able to do something to help her.
What am I going to do! The thought screamed across her mind. She tried to force herself to become calm. She needed a distraction.
Alma walked over to the piano and started playing. She hadn’t played in years, since her parents had stopped forcing her to take lessons, but she could still remember a couple of songs. Playing helped her calm her nerves and think clearly. She knew her skills, and that let her know what she needed to do. Alma would find some of the other people and convince them to help her. She would survive this.
Feeling like her normal confident self again she walked over and opened up the black bag for the first time. She pulled out a strange round device. It was heavy.
“What the heck is this?”
She pulled out all the contents of the bag; six of the small objects, a remote with two buttons, and a note. She picked up the note hoping it would explain what her weapon was. As she read her eyes opened wider and she backed a little ways away from the weapons.
“Mines?! They gave me remote mines?” She had never expected something like that. As the shock wore off she realized how fortunate she was. Not only were the weapons very effective and seemingly easy to use, but if she worked it right she wouldn’t even have to watch the people die. Six mines. It wasn’t much, but if she played it right and got the right allies it could be enough. She looked at the remote, one button to disarm any mines she armed, and one to trigger them. She put the remote in her jacket pocket, making sure that she wouldn’t be able to accidentally hit the wrong button.
Then she packed the bag again, being very careful with the explosives, and went to look for her future allies.
"Fullmetal" Gabe Rosario - 2nd Basement (cells). Javelin, Taser.
Alma – 4th floor (ballroom), Remote mines (six), going to 5th
Taylor – 7th floor, Knitting needles (large, metal, Size 15)
1st Death – Matt Vega. Skewered by Fullmetal’s javelin, Chapter 1
I have been told that people are interested in the random chance stuff (which I call rolls btw). While I do not want to show all the possibilities as that could ruin some surprises I am thinking about posting the results. Let me know what you think of this idea.
“Roll” Results: Here are the winning results of the random chances, the number in parentheses is what they "rolled".
1-35 Search ball room (10)
51-100 check piano (54)
21-80 Find nothing (79)
1-50 leave (50)
51-100 Go upstairs (90)
Taylor Current Mood: cheerful
1-50 search (search) (8)
16-100 find nothing (find nothing) (46)
|Thursday, September 9th, 2010|
|Tower Royale Character Profiles
Name: Chev (Nicholas Chev)
Age: 25 yrs old
Occupation: Ebay seller/ buyer
Physical: 6 ft 1in average weight, blue eyes, black hair cut short.
Personality: laid-back easy going, but can be straight to business.
Character info: Currently an ebay seller/buyer due to the economy and the inherits of Nascar and other collectables that he received from his grandparents.
Special Skills: Photographic memory, math
Strategy: make a safe place, and then make allies.
Name: Taylor Peters
Occupation: Carnie, Knife Throwers Assistant
Appearance: 5' 4" Medium built red head with green eyes and wears a Han Solo like smirk. Few Scars from the job. Caucasian
Personality: Too relaxed for having knives being thrown at her. Would rather be the one throwing the knives. Has more ambition than to be a carnie. Knows she's better than everyone else, and it shows.
Character Info: She's the ringmasters daughter and as such has grown up at the carnival. Has a knife collection. Likes watching the Discovery Channel when she's bored. Growing up with carnival workers, she was able to pick up some useful talents that may become useful. Picked up for this contest while trying to Hitchike to California after running away from carnival. Wants a better life than being a carnie.
Special Skill: Fairly good pickpocket, story teller, and knife thrower. It pays to grow up with carnival workers.
Strategy: Pick out the strongest, convince them to join you or take them out of the competition.
Occupation: SWAT Specialist
Physical Description: 6’4” 240lbs…muscular, blue eyes, brown hair (buzz cut), goatee, scar along the jaw line on his right side.
Personality: outgoing, very intuitive, agile, quick reflexes, closed off, not too emotional, can’t get close to anyone. Very logical, college educated, perpetually single.
Character info/history: from a broken home, parents died at an early age, brother helped raise him until the brother died when Dallas was in college. After college, Dallas joined the Marine Corps as a Second Lieutenant and was involved in covert ops in Europe. Although no information is available on his actions, he did receive an honorable discharge after 7 years as a Colonel. He received several medals for his service including the Silver Star, Distinguished Service Medal, and the Purple Heart for the bullet that grazed his jaw. After his honorable discharge, Dallas joined the LAPD as a beat officer in South Central, soon after; he was chosen for the LAPD SWAT team, considered the best in the nation. Dallas lives alone in an apartment with his Rottweiler, Spike.
Special skills: Due to Dallas’ military experience, he is trained in several martial arts disciplines…he is also an expert marksman. Also due to his military background, he is very in tune with his surroundings, always alert and attentive in his environment.
Strategy: team leader
Name: Don "Dutch" Mark
From: Small town in Texas
Occupation: Ex-Marine, Ex MMA Fighter, (See info/history for more on this)
Physical Description: Dutch is 6'4, 250 pounds. He is big and bulky and doesn't look ripped but has a lot of hidden power. He is scarred and tattooed all over, and has long dirty blonde hair.
Personality: Hot tempered and quick to anger. Also can be trigger happy. BUT he has a deep love for animals and deep down he cares for people, he is just bitter (see info/history for more on this)
Info/History: Dutch joined the military straight out of highschool. He served from age 18 to age 36. He was a head of a unit in South America when he was ordered to take his men to slaughter a village of innocent people. He refused and his unit turned on him, however he defeated all of them. After being dishonorably discharged for disobeying orders he joined an MMA fighting club, but was kicked out for brutalit, often hitting the opponent after the ref had called the match off. Most of his anger is thought to be from what happened when he was 37. A bullet was placed in his head (knicked him - didn't kill him, however knocked him out). When he came awake his wife and twelve year old son had been murdered by an unknown killer...this is why he doesn't trust people easily and has hostility problems however, he does care for people (see strategy). His current occupation: Taking out natural justice where he feels needed. (Often lands him in jail).
Special skills: Works well with all animals. Skilled Sniper (up to 1,000 feet). Very inventive/street smart (In other words, does his best to survive in ways others may not think of)
Strategy: He will protect the weaker people (has signs of a good/noble person), however he has a rule, if you can't keep up, don't step up. He will start fast, he will hit quick, and he will hit often. OOO-RAH!
Occupation: Farmer, retired Soldier
Physical Description: A fairly large man (at least 6 ft, 200 lbs), muscularly built and in good physical shape. Caucasian and bald.
Personality: Stoic and analytical, he never acts on mere impulse and is not prone to being emotional. He is gruff but never mean, and will often consider the ideas of others. He cares little for the law, but does have a strong personal sense of morality. Has gotten to know the uglier side of humanity, and so is slightly paranoid, but he would never move on any of suspicions without solid evidence.
Character History: Served during the war in his 20s, after the war had an unremarkable military career and grew more and more detached from his fellow soldiers. Eventually honorably discharged, has lived alone on his small farm since then, with only occasional contact with the few people he liked and respected in the military.
1. Versed in hand to hand combat
2. good at puzzles, riddles, chess and other such intellectual challenges
3. good judge of character
Strategy: Will seek and accept allies when they prove trustworthy, but he is wary; he will try his best to avoid ever being totally dependent on somebody else
Name: Cutter (Whatever you want as a last name)
Occupation: Petty crook and dealer
Physical Description: Height: 6'2 Build: Large frame but skinny Race: Caucasian Hair: Dark Brown, slightly curly, is grown out to about halfway down his back
Personality: Generally apathetic but can be a bit paranoid in dire situations though he rarely shows it
Character info/history: Can't think of a good story so you do it. =D
Special skills: Very persuasive. Extremely difficult to read. Is proficient in the use of most fire arms
Strategy: Adopts a wait and see approach and tries not to make waves
Name: Day Mitchell
Occupation: Bus driver.
Size/build – A bit shorter than average, but not remarkably so. Kind of a weak frame.
Hair – Sandy blond, short, neat.
Eyes – Blue.
Race – Caucasian. (Australian.)
Skin – Rough. Slight tan from years of sun through bus window, but otherwise pale.
- Very reasonable and down to earth, to such an extent that this can be a positive and negative attribute.
- Strongly opinionated, but is reasonable enough to change his opinion if a contrary point is strong enough.
- Has a sense of humor and can always see the light when the chips are down.
- Aside from any conflict that could result from previous points, he is generally easy to get along with; he’d rather make friends than enemies, and he values friendship and alliance highly.
- He had really ambitious hopes for his life. He wanted to make a difference in the world. A string of bad luck and ultimately unfortunate choices caused him to become distanced from his loved ones and far removed from the path he wanted to take.
- He developed a love for driving vehicles at a young age. He also loved the sense of journey and public atmosphere riding on the bus as a boy. Once his life had gone down the drain (as an adult), he decided to become a bus driver, feeling it would be at least one way he could help people.
- Having driven buses for years now, he still feels unsatisfied with his life, like he wants to do more, go further. He’s just waiting for the right opportunity to take him out of his humdrum existence…
Special skills: Motivational speaking, Memory (remembers what he hears amazingly well), First Aid
Strategy: Likes to plan (though not always effectively). Wants allies (and friends), will likely go along with allies strategy.
Name: Alma Talia Skye
Occupation: Actress / Socialite
Physical Description: 1.68 m, 57 kg, 32D-22-32, Shoulder-length dark brown hair dyed blonde, Dark brown eyes, slim, slightly athletic and curvy.
Personality: Egotistical, arrogant, conceited, selfish and self-centered. For the most part, anyway.
She is an articulate conversationist, hostess, and comes off as very well-bred, social-oriented, intellectual and very pronounced. She makes friends and connections rather easily. However, this only when she is either around those that are of her social class. Although it's not completely impossible, she respects people both by their ranking on the social ladder and on the abilities and qualities in which they possess. She can tolerate the middle class, especially when it is individuals who have crafted a degree of skill in one particular occupation that would require either an immense amount of studying or a high class of personal skills and traits that most other people do not possess. Mostly because they, while middle class, have worked diligently for the successes the have earned.
Not really interested in being around the lower class, or the lowest class, those of the armed forces. She's "better" than those kinds of people, and doesn't need to associate herself with "those" kinds of people.
Character info/history: Daughter of chairman and CEO of Sell in Small, a worldwide business that works as highly trusted agents when it comes to worldwide deals and functions. Being the only child, she has been lavishly spoiled by her parents, especially her father, as he is never around; he buys the love of his daughter with his money. Being a daddy's girl has its perks, as she does have a lot of influence being a high-level figure.
But with such status, ultimately comes the negativity of being a spoiled girl who can't amount to anything beneficial to society. The whole reason for being part of the Tower Royale was to prove to herself and everyone else that she can do anything and everything. As she can be thick-headed and stubborn, she has ignored all warnings everyone has given her for doing something so stupid and reckless.
1. Polyglot: Fluent in English and can read/write/speak French, Japanese, and Spanish to some mid-high degree.
2. Natural Attraction, considering the money she has to maintain a beautiful figure and look, as well as blessed with natural assets, she can be very convincing if need be, or at least woo those interested.
3. Knitting. She can knit the hell of out anything. It has always been her hobby since her babysitter taught her how to when she was a little girl.
Strategy: Her strategy is to make allies, in most cases to make use of their assistance to reach her own goals. Because alone, she's pretty vulnerable and inexperienced and she is aware of that.
Name: Claire Delauter
Physical Description: 5'8, 130lbs, slightly tanned with auburn hair. Generally bearing a gregarious smile.
Personality: Friendly, conversive, personable, affable, capable...and lazy. She is willing to work, but only to avoid work.
Character info/history: An up-and-coming overachiever, Claire was a multi-sport varsity athlete and hardworking student throughout her pre-college and college career. Upon graduating with a major in psychology, however, her professional motivation ran out. Instead of searching for a job, Claire decided to put her naturally-given, time-honed skills of social manipulation to use. She became, in a word, a mooch. But a brilliantly successful mooch. Without ever holding even a part time job, or relying on her family, or, perhaps most impressively, angering people with her borderline-parasitic behavior, Claire has gotten by for several years purely by relying on her wide network of friends and acquaintances without actually paying for, well...anything, really. From roommates covering the rent to dinners with friends, Claire dances through a jobless life. How long she can continue this constant maneuvering, however, only time will tell.
Skill 1: Judgment
Upon interacting with them enough, Claire is a stellar judge of how people will react to her requests.
Skill 2: Chameleon (people person)
Naturally a likeable, friendly person, Claire also learned in high school and college how to change her persona in order to appeal to different groups of people.
Skill 3: Foresight (strategy)
In her constant struggle to minimize work, Claire tries to plan her life in advance.
Strategy: Likely a mix of allying and hiding, depending on the circumstances. While a manipulative person, Claire is by no means a sinister person, and so would not head on any bloody killing sprees.
Occupation: Police officer
Physical Description: average build, muscular (not overly, but enough that you can tell he works out), brown hair, green eyes, Caucasian... uhhh 5 foot 5. fill in any blanks you wish.
Personality: always trying to be the nice guy, but when **** gets real, he isn't scared to get his hands dirty and knock a few heads in >_>
Character info/history: born into a middle class family, went to public school, not overly popular but still was well liked, went to university, joined the force at 25.
Special skills: Marksman: Great aim with a hand gun, decent aim with assault rifle. Athleticism. Hand to Hand Combat: strong in hand to hand combat but at the same time wont win any fighting tournaments.
Strategy: try to be friends with everyone unless the people in question are criminals. will still try to be friendly with a criminal unless it becomes apparent that doing so will put himself or his friends in danger.
Name: Ant Rodo
Occupation: Nightclub DJ, Studio Producer
Physical Description: Constantly wears T-shirts and jeans/shorts with sneakers. Occasional baseball hat with graphics on the front. Long hair-shoulder length. Eye-Glasses. 5'10" for height, 145lbs for weight.
Personality: Chill, laid back for the most part. Won't let anyone push him around and isn't afraid to get serious.
Character info/history: Born in a lower-middle class family. Never had the cool toys growing up. Can easily make friends and gain trust but will not fully trust others unless they have proven worthy. Raised to respect everyone and to be polite. Got a terrible job to make enough money to buy his equipment and begin living his dream.
Special skills: Great moderating skills; Works best alone but can understand the viewpoints of others; Manipulative
Strategy: Make allies and gain their trust. Will be willing to sell them out unless they have proven to be irreplaceable and trustworthy.
Name: Gabe "Fullmetal" Rosario
Occupation: No specific occupation, ordinary working man (Student)
Physical Description: Athletic build, 5'7 ft, 130 lbs. Has an automail right arm, with noticeable scars on the skin around it from the operation. Short, spiky, black hair. Dark brown eyes.
Personality: Has a strong sense of justice, and makes every decision based on what he thinks is fair. However, he is also extremely lazy in his everyday life. Friendly towards all, but a tad shy around people he doesn't know. Often puts others above himself, doesn't hesitate to put his life on the line for others. Tries not to show any negative emotions in front of others, instead he bottles them up and lets them out when he is alone.
Character History: Called Gabe by his close friends and family, he introduces himself as Fullmetal to most. Was an ordinary young man, working in ordinary stores after highschool, did not attend college. One day when he was 19 years old, on his way to way to work, he got in a terrible car accident. He survived, but as a result of the crash, he lost his right arm. While on the hospital, the doctor mentioned to his parents an experimental operation regarding an automail limb, and Fullmetal regained consciousness for a brief moment and agreed to have the operation. And thus, he got an automail arm
1. Quick thinking. In any given situation, he'll think up of the best possible solution at the time for all the parties involved in no time at all.
2. Persuasiveness. Since he's a guy that doesn't mess with anyone, he's generally well liked. He uses this as an advantage, and can persuade almost everyone to do what he asks them to.
3. Sneaky. Can get from one point to another without being detected. At the same time, he can find a way to get away from a dangerous situation, and successfully carry it out.
Strategy: None. My character doesn't think that far ahead.
Name: Taketatsu Fuyuka
Occupation: Public Relations/actor
Physical Description: 1.5m(4'11"), 41-43kg(90-95lbs), brown eyes, black curly hair just beyond her shoulders with a streak of purple, skinny, pale Asian
Personality: Fuyuka is a hard worker and she'll work for her fair share of things, and when it's time to divvy up any collected earnings, she won't ask for more than what she believes is fair. She doesn't show her emotions, but carries that emotion deep inside her, slightly worried about what other people may think of her if she does show too much. She figures it's better to err on the side of showing too little than it is to show more than she intended, since it's easier to rectify the former by opening up a little more; just enough to sate what another might be wanting. Her actions seem to contradict her strong ambitions to do something meaningful, important, remembered, while at the same time to make everyone happy; it's not so contradictory when she realizes that deep within herself, she's sensitive and lacks will-power, which she herself doesn't wholly realize, since she covers up those deficiencies by an overabundance of determination.
Fuyuka is neither physically strong nor well developed in her smarts, so she uses her charm to get by. In her attempt to make people happy, or at the very least not have people dislike her, she's learned how to charm both men and women, young and old while not stepping on any toes in established group mechanics, if any preexisting ones exist. It's that charm that got her through school and landed her her current job, knowing just what buttons to press to open up doors for herself.
Character info/history: As her name suggests, she was born in winter to the joy of her two Japanese parents. She just floated on by through classes, never really standing out in anything in particular; she does love to learn and absorb knowledge, though. It's the application part that troubles her, since Fuyuka was quite below average in some of her required subjects, namely English and physical education. At least in English, she can flirt with that cute guy across the aisle to take her tests for her, to at least get a passing grade. Not so much in phys ed, except when it comes to spinning around the monkey bars, but not like that's going to win her any awards.
Thus, it came to no one's surprise that, upon finishing high school, there were no colleges that offered her admission; not that she applied to many colleges in the first place. She had a plan, though, since she's determined to make a name for herself. Little did she know that that plan brought her into the public relations field.
In an open casting call, she landed the role of playing the real-life portrayal of Asuka Yuki, the next magical girl serialized anime television series, already a huge hit by the time Fuyuka got the role. She's had the gig now for six months, making appearances and promoting the show in her special outfit, doing silly dances and poses to the delight of fans, both young and old. Though, the older guys creep her out just a little, but she doesn't let her face show it. She's super thankful that she hasn't had to use any English yet, 'cause she doesn't know a lick of it. Well, outside of random phrases that stuck with her through the years, like "taco" or "fortissimo."
1. She always smells nice, even after a strenuous workout. It's a huge plus while meet and greeting as Yuki, and her shoe in with the casting call to grabbing the role to herself.
2. She's the MacGyver of cooking. Got an apple, stained T-shirt and some rope? Bam, delicious macaroni and cheese.
3. She can speak to and understand what pigeons are saying. At least, in a general sense, like what coos mean danger or a warning of something scary nearby.
Strategy: She's very very stand-off-ish. Her current job has taught her to not trust people at face value since they're more interested in her character than as Fuyuka as a person. To gain Fuyuka's trust, the other person must do something extraordinarily beyond their calling, and until that time, Fuyuka is not willing to trust a soul. She's more than content to work alone until someone earns her trust, and will often go her own way if she is alone. Thus, she's not prone to joining up in groups and, while acting alone, will do things more in her interest while not seeming to piss off anyone in the vicinity. She tries not to make waves, tending more to stay in the background.
Though, once that trust of hers is gained, she's willing to go as far as to die protecting them or exact vengeance if that trusted person has been dealt a heavy blow. In her own world, this would satisfy that burning ambition to do something remembered and important, since those people she trusts are the whole world to her.
Name: Elena Malik
Physical Description: 5’6”, average weight. Blonde hair. Good shape physically. Wears contacts.
Personality: Curious and studious, a pretty typical psychologist. She is fascinated with how people react in extreme situations. This goes for herself as well as other people. For this reason she tends to put herself into dangerous situations just to see how she and the people around her react.
Character info/history: I’ll make it up as I go along.
Special skills: slight of hand, parkour, Motivational speaking
Strategy: Wants to study how other people will react to situations. Will try and find allies, but once she has them she will want to keep things interesting.
Name: William “Eggy” Eggerton
Occupation: Weapons dealer
Physical Description: http://blogs.coventrytelegraph.net/thegeekfiles/James Marsters Spike1.jpg Why? Because I feel like it.
Personality: If you don’t know what Spike from Buffy is like, than I am sorry. Burn Notice fans, think a male Fi. Still don’t know what I am talking about? He is cocky, but can back it up. More intelligent than he originally appears. He is out to have fun and succeed and has no issue with danger and pain. His or other people’s. Can also be a bit a romantic, but its not going to be a normal relationship.
Character info/history: He liked guns. He liked making money. Seemed pretty obvious to try gun running, and h ended up being pretty successful at it. Unfortunately he has taken a few too many chances and is currently being hunted by the FBI and NSA.
Special skills: Athleticism, Rock climbing, singing and dancing (the best part is that the RNG picked these)
Strategy: Might let people (meaning attractive girls) tag along if he sees an advantage in it, but has no problem killing everyone around him. Mostly he just wants to win and get the money. Along with that he wants the best weapons. You can give him your weapon (if he wants it) or he will take it from you. If you have a terrible weapon he is more likely to leave you alone.
Name: Matt Vega
Physical Description: A little overweight, looks like Matt.
Character info/history: Matt became a chef
Special skills: doesn’t matter he will be dead.
Strategy: die quickly
|Tower Royale Chapter 1: The Game Begins
The man known as Maniac Mike stood on a balcony that ringed what he referred to as the “show room”. It was a large room with a buffet table in the center, couches and chairs facing every wall, and 20 TVs circling the room. This was the area in which patrons, and therefore the gamblers, would get to view the action. The TVs would allow people to watch the action no matter where it was going on, or simply monitor their participant of choice, and above the TVs were status boards; some of which gave current information on each person, the rest showed background info on them along with the person’s odds.
The room was filled with 40 people, each having paid three million dollars for a chance to take part in the occasion. Finding this many people willing to spend that kind of money for the chance to bet on such a unique event had not been nearly as hard as most people had thought. Many people shared his belief on what made gambling exciting. It was the lesson found in the classic book “The Most Dangerous Game”. The greatest hunt is against an opponent who can think and create just like you. It is the same for spectators as it is for participants. It is the reason why sports and reality TV are so popular, watching a game of luck or a battle between animals is fine, but it cannot compare to when humans face off against each other. The ability to lie, cheat, and manipulate adds whole new dimensions to the game and makes it infinitely more interesting to the viewer. And when a person’s life was on the line that was when they would perform at their highest level. It was hardly a new idea, the Coliseum had been much the same, Maniac was just taking it to a new level. This was the ultimate bet, the chance to bet on what a normal human would do when faced with a seemingly impossible situation. Anything could happen, and yet this was no boring game of chance. Of course the biggest and bravest betters would jump at a chance to take part in action like this, how could they not?
Looking down at the people who had made all this possible, Mike saw that most looked excited, a few nervous, and two very angry. They could yell as much as they wanted, it would change nothing. Their daughter had signed up just like every other contestant, and she would get no special treatment. The main betting was now closed, though side bets were already being created, and the gamblers were anxiously discussing and trying to predict what would happen next. All but the two. Even now they glared up at him. Originally their daughter’s participation had been a source of amusement to him, but now it was beginning to become an annoyance. Luckily, at that moment Maniac’s growing annoyance was interrupted by the sound of a door opening on the balcony across from him.
Maniac looked up to see Sik enter the room. His entrance meant that the game was finally ready to begin. Even now a second gas was filling the tower; this one would wake up everyone, ensuring that no one got too much of a head start. He nodded his head and relaxed against the railing as Sik began his opening speech to the betters. With his usual unique flair Sik described the “thrilling adventure” and “once in a lifetime opportunity”, ending with a flourish, a bow, and a large applause. Sik had a natural charisma which had attracted Maniac too him right away, the two had always gotten along well and fed off of each others unique styles and energy. They really were the perfect team to lead an event like Tower Royale. As the applause died down Sik motioned and sent the audiences attention to Mike. Maniac nodded in thanks and said simply “Let the Tower Royale begin!” The crowd, or at least 38 members of it, cheered again as the TVs turned on and the game began. Sik exited to the sound room, where he would give the opening words to the fighters, and Maniac Mike went back to his office where he could watch his game in peace.
Matt Vega woke up into a nightmare. He was in a cell like in an old prison; stone walls, steel bars that showed him a view of more cells, an old mattress, and a bucket in the corner. The only thing out of place was the strange black bag sitting on the bed. Matt was disoriented, confused, and horrified by what he saw around him. And than he remembered where he was, the game he had signed up for, and how he had been gassed. He was starting to panic when a voice sounded from some speaker he couldn’t see.
“Welcome combatants! This is your favorite host Sik here to let you in on the secret of Tower Royale. OOOOoooOOO…” Sik seemed to be trying to do a sound effect like a ghost in a bad horror movie. “I hope you are all as excited as I am! Now you are probably wondering what has happened to you since you last saw me in the lobby. You have all been moved to randomly chosen starting locations throughout the Tower and its yard. You will also notice a black bag located in your vicinity.”
Matt walked over to the bag and opened as Sik continued.
“Inside each bag is a special weapon just for you! You never know what you will get or what your opponents will have. Isn’t it exciting?” Sik sounded almost giddy.
Vega reached into his bag and pulled out his weapon. “A BRICK! What kind of weapon is that?” He stared at the completely normal brick in his hand and wondered what he was supposed to do with it.
“Now in case you haven’t figured it out, the point of this game is simple. Survive and eliminate! That’s right; you have all been invited to take part in a good old fashioned Battle Royale Death Match!” These last words said in a deeper and creepier voice that sent shivers down Matt’s spine.
He stood frozen in place; his mind seemed to shut down as he heard what was planned for them. “I can’t kill anyone,” Matt mumbled to himself. He just stood in the middle of his cell, still in shock, and listened as Sik began speaking again.
“That’s right folks, the way to win this game is to kill off your opponents and survive until the game ends. Now the obvious way to win would simply to be the last one standing, but in order to keep things a little more interesting we are allowing a second option. The game will end when a single person is left alive or when the remaining players agree to end the game as a team. Of course there is a consequence to this second choice, the prize money will be divided between all the winners, so the more people that remain alive the smaller your winnings. Oh, and one more thing about the team option; there can be no more than four players left when the game ends.” You could practically hear Sik grinning. “I hope you weren’t planning on simply getting everyone together and ending the game without any fun.”
Matt Vega’s mind was spinning as he tried to figure out what he was going to do and how he had gotten into this situation.
“Now, aren’t you all so glad you volunteered for such an exciting opportunity?” Sik sounded like he actually expected people to be excited about being forced to kill each other. “One final thing before I let you all get to your battles. You have probably noticed the ankle bracelet that has been put on you while you were asleep,”
Vega looked down and was stunned to see that Sik was telling the truth. There was some strange electronic device wrapped around his right ankle.
“This anklet will constantly broadcast your location and health to us so that we can more easily monitor what is happening in the game. Oh, and don’t think about trying to remove your new accessory, any tampering will cause the bracelet to explode, killing you and anybody who happens to be too close. Attempting to escape the island will also trigger this explosion.” Sik added the last line far too nonchalantly considering it involved people dieing. “Now that that is all out of the way, you are welcome to explore anyplace within the island walls. There are many secrets to discover and things that can be used to your advantage. You may find that a few locations are locked and cannot be accessed at this time. But don’t fret, there is a key for every one of these places located inside the tower. All you have to do is find it. Happy Hunting!”
There was a pause here for a few seconds and Matt assumed that Sik was done, but then the voice came back.
“What do you mean the translator isn’t here? Where is he?!” It was the first time he had heard Sik angry. He had clearly forgotten that his mic was still on. Matt heard a new voice sounding like it was coming from a little farther away from the mic.
“I think he’s still asleep from the gas.”
“Well wake him up and get him over here, we can’t have one of our players not knowing what is going on.” After that there was silence for another minute before the translator’s voice came on. Matt couldn’t tell what he was saying but that hardly mattered, he had enough stuff to think about already.
He didn’t know how long he stood there just staring at nothing, completely unable to think. Finally he managed to collect himself and figure out what he was going to do. He tried to think through things calmly but he was just too terrified. He was locked in a cell with nothing but a brick to protect him and no idea who might be coming after him. Matt did not want to die. He was just about to open his own restaurant, a life long dream! He looked around again. The only way out was through the door. While the bars might have been far enough apart for a skinny person to get through, Matt was not exactly what you would describe as skinny. He looked down at the brick that was still clutched in his hand; he hadn’t realized how tightly he was holding it until he saw his pale knuckles. Maybe if he banged the brick against the lock or threw his weight into the door he could break it open. It did look pretty old.
With that much decided Matt tried gather his confidence, but just as he was about to move towards the door he heard footsteps approaching. Not now, not like this! The thought screamed through Matt Vega’s mind as panic seized him again. I can’t die, I can’t die. I have to do something!
The sharp tip of a weapon passed in front of his cell.
The young man called “Fullmetal” sat alone in what looked like an interrogation room, listening as the man known as Sik finished his speech. In his hands was a long javelin, the weapon given to him. He set down his weapon and pulled back his right sleeve, revealing the metal prosthetic arm beneath. When his surgery had been completed his friends had quickly jumped on the similarity with one of his favorite characters; The Fullmetal Alchemist Edward Elric. He had enjoyed the nickname, even used it when introducing himself to strangers, but now he knew the true cost of his arm.
Sik might talk about them “volunteering” for this, but Gabe Rosario hadn’t been given the same choice. Two years ago Gabe had been in a car accident and lost his arm. At that time he had been offered the chance to take part in an experimental prosthetic program, giving him a state of the art robotic arm for free. Gabe couldn’t believe his luck, and all he had to do was agree to take part in some special testing down the line. The surgery had gone perfectly and the arm was even better than Gabe could have imagined. It responded naturally to his mind’s commands, moving just as easily and as well as his old arm. Heck, he was better than he was before. Little had he known that when the company talked about special tests, what they meant was a death match. Two weeks ago he had been told that the time had come and he had been entered into a competition to see how he did in some extreme situations. Once again he had considered himself lucky, even though he was being sent in as a test he would still be eligible for the 100 million dollar prize. Now he was wishing he had just died in the accident. He could not imagine killing another person in cold blood, he wasn’t even sure he could do it in self defense. But he also knew that he wouldn’t just let himself be killed. No, he would survive as long as he could and protect as many people as possible. Four people. He could save four people’s lives. That was what was important, that and finding a way to make the people who were behind this pay.
With that thought Fullmetal got up off the floor, grabbed his javelin, and walked out of the interrogation room.
He found himself in what appeared to be a guard house, like you might have found in an old castle. There were even a couple of torture devices that he hoped had never been used. He decided to look around the room incase there was any thing that could be used for a weapon. Most the items were either too impractical or chained to the wall. However, just as he was about to give up he saw a small box on the floor. Inside was a taser, one of the small square ones you see people hide in their purse or car. Not the greatest weapon ever, but it could certainly come in handy in a tight spot. He stuck the taser into the pocket of his jacket and kept moving.
There were two exits, looking through the window it seemed that one led to a flight of stairs. Gabe decided to try the other one first. He walked out into a jail hallway, cells lining both walls. Gabe wasn’t sure if someone was here, but in a setting like this he didn’t want to take any chances.
Fullmetal lifted his javelin into a throwing position and cautiously walked down the hallway glancing into each cell as he passed. As he stepped in front of a cell about half way down the hallway a red object went flying past his head, crashing hard against the bars of the cage opposite.
His protective instincts kicking in, Fullmetal spun and threw the javelin all in one motion. He could only stare as the weapon plunged into the man’s chest and he died a slow and painful death. Gabe was horrified, not just at the scene but because of what it meant. So much for me not being able to kill anyone. He thought sadly. He didn’t even know the man’s name.
Fullmetal pulled against the door with his metal arm, seeing if he could wrench it open. To his surprise it was unlocked and opened easily. He walked into the cell, never taking his eyes off of the man he had killed. He pulled the javelin out of the man’s chest and after looking at it for a few seconds wiped it off with his jacket. Gabe’s jacket was red so it wouldn’t be too noticeable, but it would serve as a reminder. Not that he was likely to need one. He searched the man and found his wallet. “Matthew Vega” he spoke out loud, forcing the name into his memory. He would find this man’s family when all this was over, assuming he was still alive, and… And what? He thought angrily. What the heck do I tell them? Sorry, Matt startled me so I skewered him. All at once he was flooded with rage, not at himself but at the company that had put him here and brought him to this situation. I will make them pay.
With that thought driving him, Fullmetal stood up and walked out of the cell. He glanced briefly at the brick that lay on the floor, the object that had startled him into murder. Why did you have to throw it? He shook the thought out of his mind and continued on. His hesitancy gone, he forged ahead with new found determination. This will not happen again.
"Fullmetal" Gabe Rosario - 2nd Basement. Javelin, Taser.
1st Death – Matt Vega. Skewered by Fullmetal’s javelin, Chapter 1
Alright first off is an example of how this whole randomizing thing works. In Chapter 1 Fullmetal had a chance to find the hidden taser. His chances were 1-35= He decides not to look around, 36-65= He searches and finds nothing. 66-100= He finds the taser. Fullmetal "rolled" a 70.
That's right, it is time for your first decision. Your chance to influence how the story plays out. This time it is pretty basic, and is probably the most common decision you will get. So here it is:
What floor will we go to next?
Basement 2nd - Fullmetal
I'll wait for a good number of votes or a clear winner.
This totally isn't a way for me to see how many people are actually reading this.
|Tower Royale Intro: “One by One”
“The final boat has arrived sir. All sixteen participants are here.” A man in a suit said, leaning through the doorway. In front of him was a strange room, made specifically for the purpose of this “game”. To one side was a very nice desk and chair, like what might be found in the office of the CEO of a multimillion dollar company. But what really caught the eye of everyone who entered it was the wall across from the door. It was almost completely covered by 20 flat screen TVs. And in front of them, in the middle of the room, was a long leather couch. Sitting on one end of this couch was the suited man’s boss, who was also the billionaire in charge of this whole endeavor. Looking at him you would never guess he was a successful hotel and casino tycoon. Today he was dressed in his favorite purple leisure suit, his hair pulled back into a ponytail. Maniac Mike was how he was referred to by his competitors and many of his employees. It was a name he enjoyed, had even embraced. It would certainly take a maniac to create this particular game.
“Sixteen? I thought there were fifteen participants?” asked his assistant, a beautiful brunette woman in a rather skimpy looking version of a business suit. She was lying on the other end of the couch.
“Originally, but one of my recruiting crews stumbled upon a hitch hiker who they felt would make a lovely addition to the competition. A little younger than I had originally planned, but I think she will make a very good addition.” Mike said with a smile, still looking at the screens. “Besides, we needed a little more gender diversity.” He hit a button on his remote and picture on the screens combined into four different angles of a room filled with people standing around, clearly impatient.
“Sir?” The subordinate spoke up tentatively. He was not comfortable around his boss; a man he knew was impulsive, unpredictable, and dangerous. Not a particularly safe combination. While he had never seen the man called Maniac get violent, he knew that he had no issue ordering someone else to “take care” of anything he perceived as an annoyance.
“What?” Mike asked distractedly, glancing back at the man in the doorway for the first time. “Ah yes. Tell Mr. Sik to get things started. And contact all of the betters. All bets will be locked one hour after Sik enters the room.” He looked back at the screen, an excited look on his face. “Finally it is time to get my little game started.”
Sixteen people had been brought in one by one to this strange island, each staring up at the tall tower that dominated the island. One by one they passed through the thick metal doors and saw the grand fountain in the middle of the front lawn. A lawn filled with beautiful trees and statues of warriors and monsters from a variety of myths and cultures. One by one they entered through the large front doors of the towers and gathered into the lobby. They were all ordered not to leave the room or talk with any of the other contestants or else they would be disqualified. And so they waited. Waited until sixteen people were gathered, forced into an uncomfortable silence that made them all even more anxious for things to begin. None of them would dare speak and cost themselves the huge amount of money they were playing for.
Finally, after what seemed like hours to the poor man who had been brought in first and mere minutes to the last, a man entered surrounded by guards and the doors were closed.
The man was dressed like a medieval bard might have when performing for a king, and he spoke in a booming overdramatic voice, like the ring leader of a circus. “Hello and welcome to Tower Royale!” the man said adding emphasis and a rolled ‘r’ to the finale word. He had struck a pose and paused as if waiting for applause. After a few seconds one young man clapped politely and after a few more joined in the bard seemed satisfied. “This shall be the location of our grand adventure and an experience none of you will forget for as long as you live!” The man chuckled to himself and seemed to lose his train of thought.
After an awkward pause a large man in the back of the room finally spoke up. “Can we talk now?”
The strange man looked up in confusion before composing himself. “Yes yes, of course. Though I encourage you try and keep yourselves under control so that we are not unduly delayed.” He paused for comment and when no one spoke up he smiled, nodded, and continued. “I’m Sik.” He said simply.
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Than go home.” This last said with a laugh by the speaker.
“No no, my name is Sik. S-I-K.” Everyone simply looked at him like he was crazy. This might very well have been the case.
Before he could go on one young woman in the front said something in Japanese, earning looks from the other people in the room. Sik seemed confused for a moment and than slapped himself in the head in a loud and overly dramatic fashion. “Ooooh riiiiight. Fukaya was it?” The woman responded, sounding annoyed, but Sik ignored her. “Don’t worry; we have a translator for you.” He paused and looked behind him. “Don’t we?”
One nervous looking man stepped past the guards. “Um. Yes sir that would be me.”
“Well whyyyy weren’t you doing your job?” He asked, glaring at the man.
“You told us not to talk or you would…”
Sik spoke right over him. “Oh forget about all of that, just get up her and translate for the poor woman.” Sik looked back to the audience and continued, giving an annoyed glance at the translator when he began talking. “Anyyyyway, each of you is here because you decided to sign up for a mystery game that would offer you the chance at One Hundred. Million. Dollars.” He finished with a flourish and paused for applause, which the group was much happier to provide this time around. “Now I’m sure all of you are anxious to know exactly what this game will involve, buuut I’m afraid we need to get a few more things in order before that happens.” The group all talked at once demanding more information, but Sik simply shouted over them. “Now now! Your answers will come as soon as you are all in position, which will be soon enough. Besides, I think it is safer if I am not in the room with you when you hear what you’ve signed up for.” And with that ominous statement Sik stepped behind the line of guards as they all put on gas masks. The crowd began panicking but the gas had already begun flowing in and the guards had pulled out weapons. In moments the group began collapsing one by one until none were left conscience.
“Well. I think that went well.” Sik said looking up at a camera in the corner of the room. “We will have them all in position before the hour is up sir”. Sik made a grand bow. Behind him the guards were already grabbing people and taking them to their assigned locations.
|Friday, April 13th, 2007|
|What Firefly Character are you?
So I found this on Jewel Staite's myspace (yes the real Jewel). She came out as Wash in case you were wondering. Also, Nathan came out as Kaylee.
Your results:You are Derrial Book (Shepherd)
|Derrial Book (Shepherd)
|Kaylee Frye (Ship Mechanic)
|Dr. Simon Tam (Ship Medic)
|Malcolm Reynolds (Captain)
|Wash (Ship Pilot)
|Zoe Washburne (Second-in-command)
|Jayne Cobb (Mercenary)
|Inara Serra (Companion)
|A Reaver (Cannibal)
||Even though you are holy
you have a mysterious past.
Click here to take the Serenity Personality Quiz
I'd have to agree. Current Mood: excited
|Monday, March 26th, 2007|
|You Are a Centaur|
In general, you are a very cautious and reserved person.
However, you are also warm hearted, and you enjoy helping others in practical ways.
You are a great teacher, and you are really good at helping people get their lives in order.
You are very intuitive, and you go with your gut. You make good decisions easily.
|You Are Iceman|
You tried to live a normal life, but it just wasn't possible
A bit of a slacker, you rather tell jokes than cultivate your powers
Powers: turning self and others into ice, making ice weapons, becoming nearly invisible
|You Are 36% Nerdy|
You're a little nerdy, but no one would ever call you a nerd.
You sometimes get into nerdy things, but only after they've become a part of mainstream culture.
Current Mood: chipper
|Your Geek Profile:|
Gamer Geekiness: High
Movie Geekiness: High
Fashion Geekiness: Moderate
SciFi Geekiness: Moderate
Geekiness in Love: Low
Internet Geekiness: Low
Music Geekiness: Low
Academic Geekiness: None
General Geekiness: None