Aug 15, 2019 20:44:38 GMT
Post by harley on Aug 15, 2019 20:44:38 GMT
001. What is your preferred name out of character?
-> Harley.
002. What timezone do you reside in?
-> Eastern.
003. What are the best days & times for you to participate in group activities?
-> Weekdays; between noon and 7 PM. Sometimes may be choked by projects, but will attempt to keep contact regardless.
004. Were you recruited by a member? If yes, who?
-> Blame Troper.
005. What is the best way to get in contact with you?
-> Discord definitely.
As a franchise, Persona is an emotionally significant game for so many. What does this character mean to you?
More than why do you want to write as them, but why are they special to you?
-> Persona 3 was where I first got on board with the series for more than just a cameo character. I was no stranger to Shin Megami Tensei; sure, but again, the only reason I got into *that* was because of the Dante cameo. (And he stayed in my party till the end despite being soundly outclassed by endgame.)
-> Persona as a whole was an unexpectedly engrossing experience; getting into it for the games themselves-- I wasn't expecting such sharp emotional responses to be drawn from the movements of the plots of 3 or 4. (I've not been able to play 5 yet.) Given P3P was one of the few games I had for the Vita during my time in service, I put *ridiculous* amounts of hours into it-- and this is the only series of its kind that I've ever invested *That much* effort into.
If there was something you could change about your character in-game,
What would it be and why?
-> I wish we got to see more of Minato's snark in-game. I've always loved the Straight Man/Only Sane Person trope, especially when the snark is muted-- I've never been *too* big a fan of the "emotionally cold" portrayal of Minato. C'mon, show us a little life, buddy.
Please write a multi-paragraph starter to be taken into consideration for your audition.
This is for us to ensure that you have a proper grasp on the character you are hoping to apply as.
Good luck!
-> In the beginning, there was nothing. But that wasn't really the 'beginning', not as it was meant to be-- and something within this nothing understood this. That something thought-- and its first thought was to open its eyes. Deep, drowning blues creaked open-- and the very next action was to draw a rasping breath, and become cognizant of form, cognizant of surroundings.
-> One moment, the hands in his view were pale marble; alabaster carved and smoothed into shape-- and the next, still pale; still cold and clammy to the perception-- but flesh, flesh and blood. One, then the other, then one, then the other-- blurring and stabilizing in the mist that was almost touching their nose. They stood, shakily, from hands and knees; and tried to catch their balance to take in their surroundings. It seemed empty here. The horizon stretched for miles, or it would have, if not for the heavy fog obscuring the surrounding area... And as the being stood, they became aware of a steady tug from behind, from the nothingness to the rear. A pull, subtle, but still hungering, still... Drawing.
-> The only option other than stagnation was to move forward. One foot in front of the other-- and with each footfall, they blurred. Blond statue one moment, azure-haired male the next-- and as they moved forward, the pull only grew more hungry, more inexorable. One foot in front of the next. The more they resisted the pull with their forward motion, the more the being became cognizant of something flaking away from him, off every inch of exposed statue|skin. They would have described them as 'burning'-- if not for the fact that the flakes of sapphire energy seemed to carry no heat, and do no damage-- yet they were flaking off with every step.
-> The only option other than huddling was to move forward. Each footfall seemed to echo as each breath taken in burned the lungs, rasped on exhale-- it hurt. Pain, pain felt new, but also old-- like an old friend that meant something. What it meant, the being couldn't articulate-- but in pursuit of that first new sensation, their feet kept moving forward. The fog grew more dense as more and more flakes began to peel away-- revealing more and more man than statue; and with the last flakes, a soundless shriek peeled the figure's lips back-- and a bellowing wave of heatless blue flame cascaded from every inch of exposed skin. The fog evaporated under the colossal wave emanating from him; and that pull that had threatened to drag him back from whence he came seemed to snap, the tension going taut for mere moments before vanishing, sending the male hurtling forward, no longer blurring, no longer "burning"...
-> And when the male came to a halt, collapsed and almost curled in on himself, the first sound he became cognizant was dry, creaking laughter-- as though the sound were leaving a throat long since crumbled to dust; ghostly, hollow, utterly bereft of life... Yet teeming with secrets.
-> "Aaaaahaahaahaahaahaahaa... Ahhhhh, I did not expect you to get this far. Well done, son of Man. Well acquitted... I see there was no need to doubt the word of that golden fool. She must have held her word, otherwise, you would not be here." A figure clad in yellow silks sat next to the collapsed man-- But when he turned to face him, the skeletal features of what *must* have been a mummy peered back at him with sightless sockets, and a leering grin.
-> "Long have I watched the futile struggle of Man and His seed-- and never once have I understood your ways. But in you, I see that so-admirable quality your kind call 'Determination'. The cycle of life and death lives on in your soul, boy-- if you've gotten this far, there is no reason to stop now. Your fate lies to the fore."
-> The figure pushed up on a forearm, and the leering fiend had abandoned him... But through the fog that had ensconced him once again, the figures of buildings could be seen. He'd not realized it until now, but with the statue's disappearance, the being's armor had given way to clothing. A slow push to his feet-- and slowly, shakily, he began again-- one foot in front of the other. As he walked towards those washed-out silhouettes, one chilled hand slipped into one of the pockets of the blazer he was wearing; charcoal faded out by time, buttons washed out white-- an identification card sat in his palm, frayed-edged and timeworn, but not as damaged as his clothing was.
-> "Arisato... Minato. Gekkoukan... High school." As his own voice greeted his ears, slow and halting from lack of use, his eyelids widened-- and images began to flicker before his eyes with all the consistency of a melting film reel, one quicker than the next-- a room with a colossal control panel within it, a crowd of people with a man in glasses at the fore, a long-haired blond with a crown of thorns, a row of crosses-- he sank to his feet, clutching at his temples as the rush came, and showed no signs of stopping for several moments that stretched into eternity.
-> He leaned to the side, and became cognizant of something cold, rough, and altogether uncomfortable scraping against the back of his right hand, his shoulder, hisside-- and the left hand came down on concrete. The fog was gone... And around him were the quiet, nigh-deserted streets of a moonlit city. Wherever he was, he had to find the academy on the identification card. This was clearly important-- and whatever it was, something told him it meant there was something waiting for him.
-> Harley.
002. What timezone do you reside in?
-> Eastern.
003. What are the best days & times for you to participate in group activities?
-> Weekdays; between noon and 7 PM. Sometimes may be choked by projects, but will attempt to keep contact regardless.
004. Were you recruited by a member? If yes, who?
-> Blame Troper.
005. What is the best way to get in contact with you?
-> Discord definitely.
As a franchise, Persona is an emotionally significant game for so many. What does this character mean to you?
More than why do you want to write as them, but why are they special to you?
-> Persona 3 was where I first got on board with the series for more than just a cameo character. I was no stranger to Shin Megami Tensei; sure, but again, the only reason I got into *that* was because of the Dante cameo. (And he stayed in my party till the end despite being soundly outclassed by endgame.)
-> Persona as a whole was an unexpectedly engrossing experience; getting into it for the games themselves-- I wasn't expecting such sharp emotional responses to be drawn from the movements of the plots of 3 or 4. (I've not been able to play 5 yet.) Given P3P was one of the few games I had for the Vita during my time in service, I put *ridiculous* amounts of hours into it-- and this is the only series of its kind that I've ever invested *That much* effort into.
If there was something you could change about your character in-game,
What would it be and why?
-> I wish we got to see more of Minato's snark in-game. I've always loved the Straight Man/Only Sane Person trope, especially when the snark is muted-- I've never been *too* big a fan of the "emotionally cold" portrayal of Minato. C'mon, show us a little life, buddy.
Please write a multi-paragraph starter to be taken into consideration for your audition.
This is for us to ensure that you have a proper grasp on the character you are hoping to apply as.
Good luck!
-> In the beginning, there was nothing. But that wasn't really the 'beginning', not as it was meant to be-- and something within this nothing understood this. That something thought-- and its first thought was to open its eyes. Deep, drowning blues creaked open-- and the very next action was to draw a rasping breath, and become cognizant of form, cognizant of surroundings.
-> One moment, the hands in his view were pale marble; alabaster carved and smoothed into shape-- and the next, still pale; still cold and clammy to the perception-- but flesh, flesh and blood. One, then the other, then one, then the other-- blurring and stabilizing in the mist that was almost touching their nose. They stood, shakily, from hands and knees; and tried to catch their balance to take in their surroundings. It seemed empty here. The horizon stretched for miles, or it would have, if not for the heavy fog obscuring the surrounding area... And as the being stood, they became aware of a steady tug from behind, from the nothingness to the rear. A pull, subtle, but still hungering, still... Drawing.
-> The only option other than stagnation was to move forward. One foot in front of the other-- and with each footfall, they blurred. Blond statue one moment, azure-haired male the next-- and as they moved forward, the pull only grew more hungry, more inexorable. One foot in front of the next. The more they resisted the pull with their forward motion, the more the being became cognizant of something flaking away from him, off every inch of exposed statue|skin. They would have described them as 'burning'-- if not for the fact that the flakes of sapphire energy seemed to carry no heat, and do no damage-- yet they were flaking off with every step.
-> The only option other than huddling was to move forward. Each footfall seemed to echo as each breath taken in burned the lungs, rasped on exhale-- it hurt. Pain, pain felt new, but also old-- like an old friend that meant something. What it meant, the being couldn't articulate-- but in pursuit of that first new sensation, their feet kept moving forward. The fog grew more dense as more and more flakes began to peel away-- revealing more and more man than statue; and with the last flakes, a soundless shriek peeled the figure's lips back-- and a bellowing wave of heatless blue flame cascaded from every inch of exposed skin. The fog evaporated under the colossal wave emanating from him; and that pull that had threatened to drag him back from whence he came seemed to snap, the tension going taut for mere moments before vanishing, sending the male hurtling forward, no longer blurring, no longer "burning"...
-> And when the male came to a halt, collapsed and almost curled in on himself, the first sound he became cognizant was dry, creaking laughter-- as though the sound were leaving a throat long since crumbled to dust; ghostly, hollow, utterly bereft of life... Yet teeming with secrets.
-> "Aaaaahaahaahaahaahaahaa... Ahhhhh, I did not expect you to get this far. Well done, son of Man. Well acquitted... I see there was no need to doubt the word of that golden fool. She must have held her word, otherwise, you would not be here." A figure clad in yellow silks sat next to the collapsed man-- But when he turned to face him, the skeletal features of what *must* have been a mummy peered back at him with sightless sockets, and a leering grin.
-> "Long have I watched the futile struggle of Man and His seed-- and never once have I understood your ways. But in you, I see that so-admirable quality your kind call 'Determination'. The cycle of life and death lives on in your soul, boy-- if you've gotten this far, there is no reason to stop now. Your fate lies to the fore."
-> The figure pushed up on a forearm, and the leering fiend had abandoned him... But through the fog that had ensconced him once again, the figures of buildings could be seen. He'd not realized it until now, but with the statue's disappearance, the being's armor had given way to clothing. A slow push to his feet-- and slowly, shakily, he began again-- one foot in front of the other. As he walked towards those washed-out silhouettes, one chilled hand slipped into one of the pockets of the blazer he was wearing; charcoal faded out by time, buttons washed out white-- an identification card sat in his palm, frayed-edged and timeworn, but not as damaged as his clothing was.
-> "Arisato... Minato. Gekkoukan... High school." As his own voice greeted his ears, slow and halting from lack of use, his eyelids widened-- and images began to flicker before his eyes with all the consistency of a melting film reel, one quicker than the next-- a room with a colossal control panel within it, a crowd of people with a man in glasses at the fore, a long-haired blond with a crown of thorns, a row of crosses-- he sank to his feet, clutching at his temples as the rush came, and showed no signs of stopping for several moments that stretched into eternity.
-> He leaned to the side, and became cognizant of something cold, rough, and altogether uncomfortable scraping against the back of his right hand, his shoulder, hisside-- and the left hand came down on concrete. The fog was gone... And around him were the quiet, nigh-deserted streets of a moonlit city. Wherever he was, he had to find the academy on the identification card. This was clearly important-- and whatever it was, something told him it meant there was something waiting for him.
