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gunsforhire app
OOC INFO
Name: Shawna
Contact: bewd ceo @ aim, Shadowesque @ plurk
Other characters played here: N/A
Age: 24
IC INFO
Name: Leonard Church/Alpha Ai
Native, OU, or AU: Native
Canon (if applicable): RvB
Character journal used:![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
alphawho
Reference (if applicable): casual expected wiki link away
Canon point (if applicable): N/A
Personality: A lot of what Church slathers onto every situation is anger. He's quick to annoy, quicker to delve into a full on screaming fit of rage and frustration under the right circumstances. Somehow he still has a social life despite this, go figure. This developed during the time when he'd lost his memory and had to recreate himself from scratch; the constant reminder that he had no reminders, as a tumultuously emotional teenager, led to a lot of anger, something that he hasn't seen fit in more than a decade to rid himself of. It's as much a defensive mechanism to keep the world at bay as it is at himself, a kid trying to deal with the vast abyss that is memory. It kept him going, afloat, when he was younger, something to drive him forward. It can seem very childish at times, but it's a system he thinks works for him, and bad habits are always hard to break.
It makes him seem like he doesn't give a fuck, but to anyone who actually knows him, this is just a ruse. Much as he refuses to actually admit it, he gives many fucks. Almost too many, if the situation is right. But the fact is that giving a fuck has, historically, sucked ass for him. Especially because sometimes he doesn't even know why he should care. Even though he tries his damnedest to be seen otherwise, he actually is a decent fucking person, and seeing people who don't suck get hurt is even suckier. Sure, he might be an asshole to those he might, under threat of pain, call friends, but c'mon, they had it coming, okay.
Because Church raised himself in a city that had no reason to care about him, though, he does feel justified in his appearance of not giving a fuck. It's also the reason that he's not ambitious, content to stay exactly where he is and not upset what's become the status quo. He's worked this hard to get here, why go any farther when he's content with an okay steady job and the Blues? He rolls his eye at the mercenaries running around causing trouble. Like, sure, they're cool and all, and he might tell a few tall tales to make him seem cool like them, but it's too much trouble. You could get shot, after all.
Church is a vocal guy in all the wrong ways. He doesn't keep his opinions to himself, and he's got plenty of embellished or just plain false stories or exaggerations to tell. Some of it is desperation for attention--something he hasn't in memory had growing up alone by himself--and for people to think higher of him rather than see him as the lowly whatever he is. His anger comes out like a volcano spewing everywhere. He doesn't intend to make himself the center of attention; it's just an unfortunate side-effect of having his heart sewn directly onto his sleeve and lined with neon lights. And since wearing helmets and covering clothing is basically the norm on a planet like this, who can really tell just who he is and what's real? It's easy to catch him in a lie, mostly because he's terrible at it. When he's emotional, his words stutter, pause, create janky and jagged edges in pause and conversation wherein he tries to reach for words that slip away from him. Whether he's always been like this or if it's a side-effect of the amnesia (or whatever caused it), he has no idea.
And you know what? He's okay with 'lol idk' being the answer to a lot of things. He doesn't tend to pry unless he's going to get paid for it, and even among his friends, he'll make a show of trying not to care. But when what he has is threatened, he is ready to jump to the defense and fuck a motherfucker up. Maybe his buddies are assholes, but they're his asshole. His stuff might be shit, but it's his shit. When coming from nothing, what one has means all.
Back story: Alpha is the oldest of the Ai siblings, with twin Beta not much younger. When he and Beta disappeared under false or otherwise mysterious pretenses in their teens, they never returned, leaving only the next oldest siblings with viable memories of him. Church remembers none of this. The only thing he remembers is that he woke up somewhere deserted in the middle of the fucking desert, trekked to the first city he could find, and tried to start life again.
Church had to name himself. And the only name that stuck out in his mind was Leonard Church. With no better options, he assumed the name for himself and winged the rest of it. He had to start small, with pickpocketing and odd jobs, menial, either for people who thought he was just a kid in need of money or for people he could trick into thinking he was older. It was an extremely rough time in his life where he rapidly tried on and shucked a number of personalities, along with more natural teenage phases. He developed his anger in this time, frustrated that he only had fragmented bits and pieces of memory, or dream, or fantasy; he wasn't even sure anymore. He had to build himself from the ground up as little more than a kid.
Church never aspired to do anything particularly great with the life he was given, no insane mercenary or soldier, nobody to look up to or guide him. There was never enough money earned on his own to send himself through college, only enough to get by. At some point, he fell in with the Blues, and his primary source of income currently is as a bartender (and whatever else he needs to be) at the Eagle and Asp.
Sample: "Holy. Fucking. Shit."
Church is pressed, full body, up against the glass storefront window probably gathering some looks for the fact that only kids do this for the latest toys, but fuck them, he never had a childhood, and this isn't a toy.
This? Is the coolest fucking jacket he's ever laid eyes upon. It's a wonderful shade of blue--perfect for him, naturally, his lucky color--with some sleek fastenings, a few 'fuck off' spikes on the shoulders, leathery but with styled cuffs that tease at an intricate design below the sleeves, radiating badassery all around, even down to the fancy little half-cape cinching. Like. Wow. It's beautiful. And it must be his. He wants to look like the baddest motherfucker on the streets, even in the middle of a storm.
His eyes fall on the price tag, and he lets out a choked noise that is all of his hopes and dreams trying to escape him at once. Looking like the baddest motherfucker on the streets is expensive work. How in the hell do those mercenary assfucks do it? Even if he has a week of busy shifts with big tippers, he can't manage to make the numbers work. Not even if he smashes and smushes them in his head.
Church pats down his (fashionably!!!) torn jeans, kicks his well worn but scuffed boots. ...Even if he doesn't look like a total badass, he still looks pretty cool for what he is. And motherfuckers better know it. Mr. Fancy Jacket can just be a pipe dream for if he wins the lottery. By accident. Since he doesn't play the lottery.
"But it even matches my helmet," he whines, even if the color's a few shades off. Shit, if he had the cash to buy up that jacket, he'd have money to give his helmet a new paintjob and upgrade it with all the latest gadgets. Oh well, what's he gonna do, quit his job and suddenly get one five times better? Yeah right. That requires something exciting and unexpected to happen around here...at the bare minimum.
Pipe dreams it is. So long as he's got the clothes on his back, does he need something shiny as that? Nah. The disappointment stings, but it'll only sting for a minute at most. He's used to the feeling by now.
Name: Shawna
Contact: bewd ceo @ aim, Shadowesque @ plurk
Other characters played here: N/A
Age: 24
IC INFO
Name: Leonard Church/Alpha Ai
Native, OU, or AU: Native
Canon (if applicable): RvB
Character journal used:
alphawhoReference (if applicable): casual expected wiki link away
Canon point (if applicable): N/A
Personality: A lot of what Church slathers onto every situation is anger. He's quick to annoy, quicker to delve into a full on screaming fit of rage and frustration under the right circumstances. Somehow he still has a social life despite this, go figure. This developed during the time when he'd lost his memory and had to recreate himself from scratch; the constant reminder that he had no reminders, as a tumultuously emotional teenager, led to a lot of anger, something that he hasn't seen fit in more than a decade to rid himself of. It's as much a defensive mechanism to keep the world at bay as it is at himself, a kid trying to deal with the vast abyss that is memory. It kept him going, afloat, when he was younger, something to drive him forward. It can seem very childish at times, but it's a system he thinks works for him, and bad habits are always hard to break.
It makes him seem like he doesn't give a fuck, but to anyone who actually knows him, this is just a ruse. Much as he refuses to actually admit it, he gives many fucks. Almost too many, if the situation is right. But the fact is that giving a fuck has, historically, sucked ass for him. Especially because sometimes he doesn't even know why he should care. Even though he tries his damnedest to be seen otherwise, he actually is a decent fucking person, and seeing people who don't suck get hurt is even suckier. Sure, he might be an asshole to those he might, under threat of pain, call friends, but c'mon, they had it coming, okay.
Because Church raised himself in a city that had no reason to care about him, though, he does feel justified in his appearance of not giving a fuck. It's also the reason that he's not ambitious, content to stay exactly where he is and not upset what's become the status quo. He's worked this hard to get here, why go any farther when he's content with an okay steady job and the Blues? He rolls his eye at the mercenaries running around causing trouble. Like, sure, they're cool and all, and he might tell a few tall tales to make him seem cool like them, but it's too much trouble. You could get shot, after all.
Church is a vocal guy in all the wrong ways. He doesn't keep his opinions to himself, and he's got plenty of embellished or just plain false stories or exaggerations to tell. Some of it is desperation for attention--something he hasn't in memory had growing up alone by himself--and for people to think higher of him rather than see him as the lowly whatever he is. His anger comes out like a volcano spewing everywhere. He doesn't intend to make himself the center of attention; it's just an unfortunate side-effect of having his heart sewn directly onto his sleeve and lined with neon lights. And since wearing helmets and covering clothing is basically the norm on a planet like this, who can really tell just who he is and what's real? It's easy to catch him in a lie, mostly because he's terrible at it. When he's emotional, his words stutter, pause, create janky and jagged edges in pause and conversation wherein he tries to reach for words that slip away from him. Whether he's always been like this or if it's a side-effect of the amnesia (or whatever caused it), he has no idea.
And you know what? He's okay with 'lol idk' being the answer to a lot of things. He doesn't tend to pry unless he's going to get paid for it, and even among his friends, he'll make a show of trying not to care. But when what he has is threatened, he is ready to jump to the defense and fuck a motherfucker up. Maybe his buddies are assholes, but they're his asshole. His stuff might be shit, but it's his shit. When coming from nothing, what one has means all.
Back story: Alpha is the oldest of the Ai siblings, with twin Beta not much younger. When he and Beta disappeared under false or otherwise mysterious pretenses in their teens, they never returned, leaving only the next oldest siblings with viable memories of him. Church remembers none of this. The only thing he remembers is that he woke up somewhere deserted in the middle of the fucking desert, trekked to the first city he could find, and tried to start life again.
Church had to name himself. And the only name that stuck out in his mind was Leonard Church. With no better options, he assumed the name for himself and winged the rest of it. He had to start small, with pickpocketing and odd jobs, menial, either for people who thought he was just a kid in need of money or for people he could trick into thinking he was older. It was an extremely rough time in his life where he rapidly tried on and shucked a number of personalities, along with more natural teenage phases. He developed his anger in this time, frustrated that he only had fragmented bits and pieces of memory, or dream, or fantasy; he wasn't even sure anymore. He had to build himself from the ground up as little more than a kid.
Church never aspired to do anything particularly great with the life he was given, no insane mercenary or soldier, nobody to look up to or guide him. There was never enough money earned on his own to send himself through college, only enough to get by. At some point, he fell in with the Blues, and his primary source of income currently is as a bartender (and whatever else he needs to be) at the Eagle and Asp.
Sample: "Holy. Fucking. Shit."
Church is pressed, full body, up against the glass storefront window probably gathering some looks for the fact that only kids do this for the latest toys, but fuck them, he never had a childhood, and this isn't a toy.
This? Is the coolest fucking jacket he's ever laid eyes upon. It's a wonderful shade of blue--perfect for him, naturally, his lucky color--with some sleek fastenings, a few 'fuck off' spikes on the shoulders, leathery but with styled cuffs that tease at an intricate design below the sleeves, radiating badassery all around, even down to the fancy little half-cape cinching. Like. Wow. It's beautiful. And it must be his. He wants to look like the baddest motherfucker on the streets, even in the middle of a storm.
His eyes fall on the price tag, and he lets out a choked noise that is all of his hopes and dreams trying to escape him at once. Looking like the baddest motherfucker on the streets is expensive work. How in the hell do those mercenary assfucks do it? Even if he has a week of busy shifts with big tippers, he can't manage to make the numbers work. Not even if he smashes and smushes them in his head.
Church pats down his (fashionably!!!) torn jeans, kicks his well worn but scuffed boots. ...Even if he doesn't look like a total badass, he still looks pretty cool for what he is. And motherfuckers better know it. Mr. Fancy Jacket can just be a pipe dream for if he wins the lottery. By accident. Since he doesn't play the lottery.
"But it even matches my helmet," he whines, even if the color's a few shades off. Shit, if he had the cash to buy up that jacket, he'd have money to give his helmet a new paintjob and upgrade it with all the latest gadgets. Oh well, what's he gonna do, quit his job and suddenly get one five times better? Yeah right. That requires something exciting and unexpected to happen around here...at the bare minimum.
Pipe dreams it is. So long as he's got the clothes on his back, does he need something shiny as that? Nah. The disappointment stings, but it'll only sting for a minute at most. He's used to the feeling by now.