Just a few questions...
While I can see something like this happening, I find it hard to believe there'd be no action at all. Like I'm sure there'd be some small groups or individuals who would be interested in learning more about Miranda and the Reavers or trying to get back at the government for what happened. It was said at the end that the government was weakened after all, so I don't know. Wouldn't there be any straggling brown coats interested in the opportunity?
Are there going to be any canon characters along the line?
Would I be allowed to have my character travel with a secondary character? She'd be much like an NPC. I was thinking maybe some kind of writer/historian/scientist or journalist that is trying to gather information about what happened. She would disguise her interest in Reavers and Miranda behind a desire to simply document different locations around the 'Verse (since there's likely no way she'd convince the crew to seek out Reavers for her to study-- much less try and get to Miranda).
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Alright. I'm game.
Name: Janet “Vixen” Carr
Alias: Vix, Carr
Age: 26
Gender: Female
Appearance:
Vix has dark flowing auburn red hair that falls just past her shoulders-- on the job it's usually tied up into a messy ponytail or side braid. She's has an athletic build with long, slender features. She is rarely ever seen with make-up on or in anything other than earthy colored tank tops, brown combat boots, and dark jeans or cargo pants. She's rarely seen without her leather jacket and bullet proof goggles, which are typically worn around her neck when they aren't in use.
Height: 5'11"
Weight: 170
Personality:
Vix isn’t really what most people would call a “people person”. She’s rather brutal in her dealings with people and seemingly cranky most days-- her short fuse and fiery temper contribute greatly to this particularly unflattering character trait of hers. Her trust is a difficult thing to obtain—her sympathy; nigh impossible. She grew up in a tough environment and learned how to be independent and stand on her own two feet. She doesn’t expect anything extra from anybody and, thus, doesn’t want anyone to expect anything extra from her. “I’m here to do my job and get paid. Not be your gorram buddy, buhn dahn,” she’s been known to say in her cockney accent whenever things start to get too "gushy" for her. She likes to keep things simple and would rather stay out of business that doesn't concern her-- you start learning about each others pasts and then you start caring about each other and the inevitable goodbye that comes at the end of every meeting is only made that much more... annoying. Emotions only get in the way. She likes to play the cool, sexy fighter lady that's always leaning up against the wall in the shadows and will who'll sooner kill you in your sleep than let you cross her, but her quirks are so aplenty that anyone who really knows her can see through the ruse. She's got a soft spot for kids and despite her harsh exterior, she's got quite the surprising personality deep deep down....
History: Making some changes...
Gear:
Trivia:
Name: Janet “Vixen” Carr
Alias: Vix, Carr
Age: 26
Gender: Female
Appearance:
Vix has dark flowing auburn red hair that falls just past her shoulders-- on the job it's usually tied up into a messy ponytail or side braid. She's has an athletic build with long, slender features. She is rarely ever seen with make-up on or in anything other than earthy colored tank tops, brown combat boots, and dark jeans or cargo pants. She's rarely seen without her leather jacket and bullet proof goggles, which are typically worn around her neck when they aren't in use.
Height: 5'11"
Weight: 170
Personality:
Vix isn’t really what most people would call a “people person”. She’s rather brutal in her dealings with people and seemingly cranky most days-- her short fuse and fiery temper contribute greatly to this particularly unflattering character trait of hers. Her trust is a difficult thing to obtain—her sympathy; nigh impossible. She grew up in a tough environment and learned how to be independent and stand on her own two feet. She doesn’t expect anything extra from anybody and, thus, doesn’t want anyone to expect anything extra from her. “I’m here to do my job and get paid. Not be your gorram buddy, buhn dahn,” she’s been known to say in her cockney accent whenever things start to get too "gushy" for her. She likes to keep things simple and would rather stay out of business that doesn't concern her-- you start learning about each others pasts and then you start caring about each other and the inevitable goodbye that comes at the end of every meeting is only made that much more... annoying. Emotions only get in the way. She likes to play the cool, sexy fighter lady that's always leaning up against the wall in the shadows and will who'll sooner kill you in your sleep than let you cross her, but her quirks are so aplenty that anyone who really knows her can see through the ruse. She's got a soft spot for kids and despite her harsh exterior, she's got quite the surprising personality deep deep down....
History: Making some changes...
Gear:
Trivia:
It's how I imagine most people who really really like shoes. And I say people because this past year I've met one too many boys that act like kids in a candy store when they're in the shoe section.
I've got a post ready to go. Just need someone to post as per the waiting two posts before you post again rule....
Liza smirked into her sandwich, noticing Thomas out of the corner of her eye, looking less than pleased with her little joke. He seemed to catch on well enough, though. She was glad he caught the slight seriousness in her jesting. They really ought to be more heavily considering what the list was exactly for. She'd been scratching her head over it for well over a week. Thomas seemed capable enough... maybe he could be the one to help her figure it out.
“At least the cops won't have to try very hard to draw up a suspect list, she basically told them who to look for. Makes me wonder if they're even considering anyone not on the list as a possible suspect. I wouldn't, to begin with. Not until I had a reason to.”
Bingo, Liza thought pensively. She opened her mouth to speak, but closed it again as Thomas went on-- deciding to let him finish.
“Then again, I'm no detective. They'll find out who did it, or they won't. In the end it won't bring her back….”
Oh boy… that was a bit morbid. Had Thomas had a crush on her or something? Liza wiped the corner of her mouth with her fingernail, careful not to smear her lipstick whilst she continued listening.
“Whatever will be, will be. Nothing we do now is going to change that, so we might as well just wait it out and hope her killer is brought to justice."
“No no no,” Liza shook her head, “That’s the problem. Don’t you see? What if the killer really isn’t on that list?”
She crumpled up her empty lunch bag, “You said it yourself. Why would anyone pull a prank right before they died? Assuming she saw it coming, Sierra, in her last seconds of life, chose to write down names. Our names. Who’s to say she didn’t die before she was able to finish writing her list? And, more importantly, why did she write it?”
Liza paused for a moment, tossing her crumpled lunch bag into a nearby trash can before turning to face Thomas again, her expression very serious, “If the police are using Sierra’s list as a list of suspects, then that means Sierra suspected each of us when she wrote it. Now, who really has a list that long of people who might want to kill them?” Liza was silent for a moment, seeming to reflect on what she’d just said, before chuckling sheepishly, “Uh—don’t answer that… but really. I mean, think about it.
“We were her friends… not her enemies... supposedly,” Liza couldn’t speak for the other people on the list, “She wrote her own sisters’ names on the list after all, you know? So if it wasn't a list of suspects, then what?”
She shook her head and sighed, resting her elbows on the table, “If what you said is true and the police really aren’t considering anybody not on that list I think we have a serious problem. The killer could be halfway to Tahiti by now....”
She smiled and leaned in close, "You know... we could do a little bit of snooping around on our own... see if the cops didn't miss anything."
“At least the cops won't have to try very hard to draw up a suspect list, she basically told them who to look for. Makes me wonder if they're even considering anyone not on the list as a possible suspect. I wouldn't, to begin with. Not until I had a reason to.”
Bingo, Liza thought pensively. She opened her mouth to speak, but closed it again as Thomas went on-- deciding to let him finish.
“Then again, I'm no detective. They'll find out who did it, or they won't. In the end it won't bring her back….”
Oh boy… that was a bit morbid. Had Thomas had a crush on her or something? Liza wiped the corner of her mouth with her fingernail, careful not to smear her lipstick whilst she continued listening.
“Whatever will be, will be. Nothing we do now is going to change that, so we might as well just wait it out and hope her killer is brought to justice."
“No no no,” Liza shook her head, “That’s the problem. Don’t you see? What if the killer really isn’t on that list?”
She crumpled up her empty lunch bag, “You said it yourself. Why would anyone pull a prank right before they died? Assuming she saw it coming, Sierra, in her last seconds of life, chose to write down names. Our names. Who’s to say she didn’t die before she was able to finish writing her list? And, more importantly, why did she write it?”
Liza paused for a moment, tossing her crumpled lunch bag into a nearby trash can before turning to face Thomas again, her expression very serious, “If the police are using Sierra’s list as a list of suspects, then that means Sierra suspected each of us when she wrote it. Now, who really has a list that long of people who might want to kill them?” Liza was silent for a moment, seeming to reflect on what she’d just said, before chuckling sheepishly, “Uh—don’t answer that… but really. I mean, think about it.
“We were her friends… not her enemies... supposedly,” Liza couldn’t speak for the other people on the list, “She wrote her own sisters’ names on the list after all, you know? So if it wasn't a list of suspects, then what?”
She shook her head and sighed, resting her elbows on the table, “If what you said is true and the police really aren’t considering anybody not on that list I think we have a serious problem. The killer could be halfway to Tahiti by now....”
She smiled and leaned in close, "You know... we could do a little bit of snooping around on our own... see if the cops didn't miss anything."
Lynette's reason = totally feasible.
Thomas had fallen silent for a while whilst Liza just kept eating casually. “Fair enough…. Though for the record your hair is pretty,” he finally decided to say. That got at least a half smile out of Liza as she punctured her Caprisun bag with the straw. Sure, maybe it was just his face-value niceness, but she was grateful for the compliment nonetheless. Compliments that weren’t either dripping with sarcasm or dripping with the intent to try and ‘get lucky with Loose Liza’ were pretty rare these days. …he wasn’t trying to get lucky, was he? Her smile transformed into a more puzzled expression.
Eh, he was pretty cute, but now really wasn’t the time she ought to be messing around—much less with a guy from Sierra’s list. Not unless they wanted to be the next Amanda Knox and Raffaele Sollecito—sexing it up right after the death of a friend. Yeah, no… somehow she doubted that was why Mr. Picture of the Perfect Student was talking to her.
“I doubt anyone here will have much to say about me though. Nobody really knew me besides Sierra. Who knows what they'll make up or speculate though…," Tom's eyes seemed to get kinda distant, "Everyone's got something to hide. Nobody is perfect."
Truer words were never spoken. Although as far as skeletons in the closet went, it was a good thing most of them were only teenagers. They could probably chalk up most of the stupid stuff they’d done in the past to that inevitable foolishness that always walked hand in hand with youth. Then again, even if you didn’t have a history of getting into fights, like Liza did, if your background is full of violence—like say an almost permanently drunk father who once threw a beer bottle at his 10 year old son’s neck and permanently scarred it for life—you’re pretty much screwed. She secretly hoped she wouldn’t have to face any criminal psychologists. She didn’t want any of those guys probing her brain with their words….
"Yeah, she was my friend. Only person here who really called me that…. I know I just kind of showed up out of the blue, but I'm glad we can talk. I've been alone with my thoughts for too long, and I doubt anyone else would have listened to or put up with me."
Liza was silent for a moment before answering, “Don’t worry about it,” she shrugged, “I have a feeling we’ll all be a bit closer by the time this is over with… for better or for worse….” Her voice trailed off as she stared down at her open bag of Lays.
“Chips?” she offered, tilting the bag towards him. She knew how much it sucked to be on that mysterious little list Sierra had written. Liza considered herself pretty good at coping with things on her own, but all the accusations were beginning to wear down even her. She couldn’t imagine what it was like for everybody else... although, she had to admit, it was somewhat amusing to see the "perfect" kids like Andrea, Cameron, and even, up until now, Thomas thrown for such a loop. Welcome to my world, she'd scoffed one day when she'd glimpses some kids confronting Andrea and Cameron about it-- although they weren't hardly as accusatory towards them as they typically were with her.
"I just wonder why she left a list of all things," she mused, taking a small bite of her spicy tuna sandwich, "Like is the murderer even on that list or did Sierra just get a kick out of confusing the shit out of everyone."
She scoffed, “If that’s the case, maybe I should’ve hung out with her more often because that shit would be hilarious.... But I also wonder if maybe it was a warning, you know?"
Her nonchalant smile faded, "If anybody on that list dies any time soon, I guess we'll know, huh?" She watched Thomas carefully, doing her best to look spooked by her own words, but couldn't keep up the act for long. She broke into a light chuckle and took another bite. Maybe some would call her crazy for making light of such a gloomy topic, but this was just part of how she coped. She wasn't about to get all mushy with a guy she just met, either. He had yet to gain even a semblance of her trust, which wasn't going to happen in a single day and she highly doubted would ever happen anyway-- so until then, this conversation was nothing but a silly dance to Liza. Thomas wasn't going to get anything more than a few shared chips and inappropriate jokes out of her in the meantime.
Eh, he was pretty cute, but now really wasn’t the time she ought to be messing around—much less with a guy from Sierra’s list. Not unless they wanted to be the next Amanda Knox and Raffaele Sollecito—sexing it up right after the death of a friend. Yeah, no… somehow she doubted that was why Mr. Picture of the Perfect Student was talking to her.
“I doubt anyone here will have much to say about me though. Nobody really knew me besides Sierra. Who knows what they'll make up or speculate though…," Tom's eyes seemed to get kinda distant, "Everyone's got something to hide. Nobody is perfect."
Truer words were never spoken. Although as far as skeletons in the closet went, it was a good thing most of them were only teenagers. They could probably chalk up most of the stupid stuff they’d done in the past to that inevitable foolishness that always walked hand in hand with youth. Then again, even if you didn’t have a history of getting into fights, like Liza did, if your background is full of violence—like say an almost permanently drunk father who once threw a beer bottle at his 10 year old son’s neck and permanently scarred it for life—you’re pretty much screwed. She secretly hoped she wouldn’t have to face any criminal psychologists. She didn’t want any of those guys probing her brain with their words….
"Yeah, she was my friend. Only person here who really called me that…. I know I just kind of showed up out of the blue, but I'm glad we can talk. I've been alone with my thoughts for too long, and I doubt anyone else would have listened to or put up with me."
Liza was silent for a moment before answering, “Don’t worry about it,” she shrugged, “I have a feeling we’ll all be a bit closer by the time this is over with… for better or for worse….” Her voice trailed off as she stared down at her open bag of Lays.
“Chips?” she offered, tilting the bag towards him. She knew how much it sucked to be on that mysterious little list Sierra had written. Liza considered herself pretty good at coping with things on her own, but all the accusations were beginning to wear down even her. She couldn’t imagine what it was like for everybody else... although, she had to admit, it was somewhat amusing to see the "perfect" kids like Andrea, Cameron, and even, up until now, Thomas thrown for such a loop. Welcome to my world, she'd scoffed one day when she'd glimpses some kids confronting Andrea and Cameron about it-- although they weren't hardly as accusatory towards them as they typically were with her.
"I just wonder why she left a list of all things," she mused, taking a small bite of her spicy tuna sandwich, "Like is the murderer even on that list or did Sierra just get a kick out of confusing the shit out of everyone."
She scoffed, “If that’s the case, maybe I should’ve hung out with her more often because that shit would be hilarious.... But I also wonder if maybe it was a warning, you know?"
Her nonchalant smile faded, "If anybody on that list dies any time soon, I guess we'll know, huh?" She watched Thomas carefully, doing her best to look spooked by her own words, but couldn't keep up the act for long. She broke into a light chuckle and took another bite. Maybe some would call her crazy for making light of such a gloomy topic, but this was just part of how she coped. She wasn't about to get all mushy with a guy she just met, either. He had yet to gain even a semblance of her trust, which wasn't going to happen in a single day and she highly doubted would ever happen anyway-- so until then, this conversation was nothing but a silly dance to Liza. Thomas wasn't going to get anything more than a few shared chips and inappropriate jokes out of her in the meantime.
“Move out of the way! I’m having a hard enough time trying to see as it is!” Lynnette placed a freezing hand on Marcus’ neck to push him out of her line of vision. He jolted away from her touch, sucking in air sharply between his teeth.
“Ah! Lyn!" he whined, "Cold!”
“Sorry,” she muttered rather insincerely, crossing her arms as she craned her neck and balanced on her toes, trying to get a better look at where the prince would be entering as the crowd waited in anticipation. She wasn’t particularly short by most womanly standards, but she was also by no means considered all that tall-- standing at a mere 5’9”….
“I told you I don’t mind if you want to sit on my shoulders…,” Marcus said with a lewd smirk as he glanced down at her over his shoulder, motioning with his head at a nearby couple that had obviously decided to do just that.
“In your dreams,” she scoffed, wrinkling her nose. As the midday chiming of the Clock Tower bells sounded, followed by a distant trumpet, more and more people started converting restless children to their shoulders and stretching themselves as high as they could, eager to catch a glimpse of Prince Davos Du Ikana. “Ugh… really?” Lynnette groaned to herself, grabbing Marcus’ vest to try and lift herself higher as a particularly tall man pulled his big fat child onto his abnormally broad shoulders.
“We would have gotten a better spot if you hadn’t spent such a long time looking at shoes, you know,” Marcus griped.
“Shhh, shut up shut up,” Lynnette furrowed her brow in frustration, barely listening to Marcus’ bellyaching.
She had to get a better spot.
Pushing through the crowd that had flanked Marcus and Lyn on either sides, she struggled to make her way towards a stack of crates. completely leaving Marcus behind. Before the Prince had arrived there had been some Carnival Committee members shooing people away from them, but now that the precession had begun there wasn’t a committee members in sight that wasn’t obviously completely absorbed in the prince’s grand arrival. “Excuse me, please” Lynnette muttered to each disgruntled crowd member she slipped by. There was no use worrying about anyone recognizing her—they were all far too interested in what was going on.
Nimbly climbing up onto the highest crate where two or three other people had apparently also nested, Lynette sat down, crossed her ankles and pressed her hands together in front of her lips in utter wonder as the crowd erupted into cheers. The precession was truly a sight to behold… as was the face of Prince Davos Du Ikana. Everything about him and his soldiers was glamorous beyond belief.
And this was only a sliver of it all…. The prince alone looked so regal and prestigious, she could hardly imagine what the King himself looked like… let alone his palace. She gave little thought to how a kingdom that had seemed so dormant for roughly 30 years could have possibly done so well on their own-- entranced by all the grandeur. You couldn’t possibly hope to see anything even remotely as classy in Dawn Heights. And if there was a prince... then there was surely a queen as well… by the goddesses, she wished she could see what a true Ikana noble lady dressed like if this was what their warriors wore….
A nasty sounding cough brought her spiraling back to reality as one of her fellow crate-sitting rule breakers seemed to be on the brink of hacking up a hairball over his shoulder and almost right into Lynnette’s face. She tried to hide her disgust, holding up her gloved hand to seemingly tuck a strand of hair behind her ear whilst also protecting her face from the spittles that were now raining down upon her. She subtly scooted over a few inches, also leaning forward and out of the line of fire as tried to focus on the prince again….
“Ah! Lyn!" he whined, "Cold!”
“Sorry,” she muttered rather insincerely, crossing her arms as she craned her neck and balanced on her toes, trying to get a better look at where the prince would be entering as the crowd waited in anticipation. She wasn’t particularly short by most womanly standards, but she was also by no means considered all that tall-- standing at a mere 5’9”….
“I told you I don’t mind if you want to sit on my shoulders…,” Marcus said with a lewd smirk as he glanced down at her over his shoulder, motioning with his head at a nearby couple that had obviously decided to do just that.
“In your dreams,” she scoffed, wrinkling her nose. As the midday chiming of the Clock Tower bells sounded, followed by a distant trumpet, more and more people started converting restless children to their shoulders and stretching themselves as high as they could, eager to catch a glimpse of Prince Davos Du Ikana. “Ugh… really?” Lynnette groaned to herself, grabbing Marcus’ vest to try and lift herself higher as a particularly tall man pulled his big fat child onto his abnormally broad shoulders.
“We would have gotten a better spot if you hadn’t spent such a long time looking at shoes, you know,” Marcus griped.
“Shhh, shut up shut up,” Lynnette furrowed her brow in frustration, barely listening to Marcus’ bellyaching.
She had to get a better spot.
Pushing through the crowd that had flanked Marcus and Lyn on either sides, she struggled to make her way towards a stack of crates. completely leaving Marcus behind. Before the Prince had arrived there had been some Carnival Committee members shooing people away from them, but now that the precession had begun there wasn’t a committee members in sight that wasn’t obviously completely absorbed in the prince’s grand arrival. “Excuse me, please” Lynnette muttered to each disgruntled crowd member she slipped by. There was no use worrying about anyone recognizing her—they were all far too interested in what was going on.
Nimbly climbing up onto the highest crate where two or three other people had apparently also nested, Lynette sat down, crossed her ankles and pressed her hands together in front of her lips in utter wonder as the crowd erupted into cheers. The precession was truly a sight to behold… as was the face of Prince Davos Du Ikana. Everything about him and his soldiers was glamorous beyond belief.
And this was only a sliver of it all…. The prince alone looked so regal and prestigious, she could hardly imagine what the King himself looked like… let alone his palace. She gave little thought to how a kingdom that had seemed so dormant for roughly 30 years could have possibly done so well on their own-- entranced by all the grandeur. You couldn’t possibly hope to see anything even remotely as classy in Dawn Heights. And if there was a prince... then there was surely a queen as well… by the goddesses, she wished she could see what a true Ikana noble lady dressed like if this was what their warriors wore….
A nasty sounding cough brought her spiraling back to reality as one of her fellow crate-sitting rule breakers seemed to be on the brink of hacking up a hairball over his shoulder and almost right into Lynnette’s face. She tried to hide her disgust, holding up her gloved hand to seemingly tuck a strand of hair behind her ear whilst also protecting her face from the spittles that were now raining down upon her. She subtly scooted over a few inches, also leaning forward and out of the line of fire as tried to focus on the prince again….
No rush! I just wanted to make sure the length wasn't what was postponing you. Boy, do I ever know about annoying professors....
If you're really that concerned about the length, we could just collab a conversation... but this is the casual section after all....
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