Post by The Joker on Apr 8, 2010 23:19:17 GMT -5
*OCC: I pepper the application with some comic book references – hopefully that coincides with everything here.
JACK NAPIER (?)[/color]
The proceedings for this session with one Jack Napier (though name not fully confirmed) can now commence
after being postponed since 4/1/1981 (though date not fully confirmed). Subject is Male and by referring to their date of
birth we are able to assume they are Twenty-Eight , without suspicion of
falsehood—as of yet. Inquiries are being made, however, in regards to their response to the
request "Describe yourself in one word", to which their reply was “God”
Individual’s sexual preference on the generic scale is Yet to be identified and he associates,
generally, with other villains . However, their current mental state
has left us to wonder if being a mass-murdering psychopathic clown is truly right for them. The patient has also informed us
that we may call them by the following title(s), The Joker. Of all the responses received we were most disturbed to find that they believe quite adamantly that they resemble Heath Ledger; such a claim raises many questions. [/color][/center]
distinguishing features
[/ul]
self-presentation
[/ul]
likes?
[/ul]
dislikes?
[/ul]
personal strengths?
[/ul]
personal weaknesses?
[/ul]
phobias?
[/ul]
motives?
[/ul]
evaluation summary
[/ul]
As we neared the end of the session, we began to reach the roots of our subject's character.
Questions were posed concerning their immediate relatives. The persons responsible
for their upbringing are/were Unkown. .
When asked about siblings they responded: ”Never had ‘em. Never want ‘em” Lastly, we inquired about
"significant others" who have had held or who currently hold in a role in their lives: ”Dearest Batsy *sigh*…though I feel like I’m forgetting somebody else…”[/color][/center]
background check
[/ul]
This marks the conclusion of this report.
To finish, we ask the name of the patient’s doctor: CG.
Next, we need to know your schedule: New York City – Eastern Time.
Also, we need to know if you have anything to share with us: ”Mostly busy over the weekends, but I definitely have lots of time for roleplaying!”
Lastly, before we forget, a statement of your past experience in this field would be an excellent finishing touch:[/color][/center]
“Do you remember when this used to be the biggest toy store in all of Gotham?”
A white hand protruded out from the Gotham Alleyway darkness into a well placed street light.
There was no response, but the voice hadn’t expected any.
Three burly men with white grease paint mucked carelessly onto their faces stood at attention. They were standing directly under the only source of light this particular dark and stingy alleyway seemed to provide. Smoke and other ghastly smells wavered in the air – but no one seemed to notice – it was the smell of mischief and mayhem and asked if other Gotham residents smelled it they would’ve said they had gotten used to the musky odor.
Right behind all of them stood a large brick building. There wasn’t anything really striking about it; and it looked decrepit and molding with age. It was just another old building, just like any others found within the lower east side of Gotham City. The whole city was riddled with them, like decaying teeth and they were all easily overlooked and easily forgotten.
“Hrmm,” a cleanly polished spat clicked in concentration and annoyance. “And now look at it! It’s a storage dump filled with last season’s Reebok shoes and Ecko t-shirts! It a graveyard of mindless paraphernalia that eats at the heart and soul of this fair city – MY fair city!” A low guttural sound came before the owner of disembodied hand and spat came into the light.
Bright vivid green hair was messily matted across a forehead, messy but chilling white clown makeup was plastered all over his face. And the body was tenderly upholstered with the finest purple silk suit found on this side of the hemisphere. The man’s bright crimson colored lips were pulled down in a frown as he looked up at the building – inspecting its radiating ugliness that he could only see with his acidic green eyes that burned.
The Joker – a name more synonymous with the Devil than a mischievous clown had recently sprung out of Arkham Asylum. After only a few days of wandering around aimlessly – leaving more bodies in his wake – he randomly stumbled upon this old building and at first sight declared the building to be unfit to exist while he still did.
Though he was a criminal master mind, in his soul he knew he was also an artist. Often times he considered himself to be the interior decorator for Gotham, blowing up buildings he thought were just not up to his standards of living. He never did see why no one appreciated his efforts in making the city a better place, how much money he saved the tax payers. And what did it matter that he took the figure of speech “Paint the town RED” literally – and started using the blood of his victims to paint smiley faces all over the side of the walls? At least it added some color into their colorless lives! And at that instant he wanted to blow the building up – that sadistic and yet artistic side of him came up. Really, if anything he’d be blowing up an all too overrated fashion sense that seemed to spread around like the black plague.
“Moe! Larry! Curly!” Each respectively stepped up as their “name” was called.
Out of no where, each was tossed a two by four large wooden plank, nails sticking out at the end of it. They looked at their employer haphazardly as his grin slowly transformed into something more maniacal.
“And now kiddies, why don’t you show me what happened when Fuzzy Bear met Jerry Porcupine at the old hollow tree stump in the woods right next to Peter Rabbit's gingerbread house..."
[/font]
JACK NAPIER (?)The proceedings for this session with one Jack Napier (though name not fully confirmed) can now commence
after being postponed since 4/1/1981 (though date not fully confirmed). Subject is Male and by referring to their date of
birth we are able to assume they are Twenty-Eight , without suspicion of
falsehood—as of yet. Inquiries are being made, however, in regards to their response to the
request "Describe yourself in one word", to which their reply was “God”
Individual’s sexual preference on the generic scale is Yet to be identified and he associates,
generally, with other villains . However, their current mental state
has left us to wonder if being a mass-murdering psychopathic clown is truly right for them. The patient has also informed us
that we may call them by the following title(s), The Joker. Of all the responses received we were most disturbed to find that they believe quite adamantly that they resemble Heath Ledger; such a claim raises many questions. [/color][/center]
distinguishing features
[/ul]
self-presentation
[/ul]
likes?
[/ul]
dislikes?
[/ul]
personal strengths?
[/ul]
personal weaknesses?
[/ul]
phobias?
[/ul]
motives?
[/ul]
evaluation summary
[/ul]
As we neared the end of the session, we began to reach the roots of our subject's character.
Questions were posed concerning their immediate relatives. The persons responsible
for their upbringing are/were Unkown. .
When asked about siblings they responded: ”Never had ‘em. Never want ‘em” Lastly, we inquired about
"significant others" who have had held or who currently hold in a role in their lives: ”Dearest Batsy *sigh*…though I feel like I’m forgetting somebody else…”
background check
[/ul]
This marks the conclusion of this report.
To finish, we ask the name of the patient’s doctor: CG.
Next, we need to know your schedule: New York City – Eastern Time.
Also, we need to know if you have anything to share with us: ”Mostly busy over the weekends, but I definitely have lots of time for roleplaying!”
Lastly, before we forget, a statement of your past experience in this field would be an excellent finishing touch:
“Do you remember when this used to be the biggest toy store in all of Gotham?”
A white hand protruded out from the Gotham Alleyway darkness into a well placed street light.
There was no response, but the voice hadn’t expected any.
Three burly men with white grease paint mucked carelessly onto their faces stood at attention. They were standing directly under the only source of light this particular dark and stingy alleyway seemed to provide. Smoke and other ghastly smells wavered in the air – but no one seemed to notice – it was the smell of mischief and mayhem and asked if other Gotham residents smelled it they would’ve said they had gotten used to the musky odor.
Right behind all of them stood a large brick building. There wasn’t anything really striking about it; and it looked decrepit and molding with age. It was just another old building, just like any others found within the lower east side of Gotham City. The whole city was riddled with them, like decaying teeth and they were all easily overlooked and easily forgotten.
“Hrmm,” a cleanly polished spat clicked in concentration and annoyance. “And now look at it! It’s a storage dump filled with last season’s Reebok shoes and Ecko t-shirts! It a graveyard of mindless paraphernalia that eats at the heart and soul of this fair city – MY fair city!” A low guttural sound came before the owner of disembodied hand and spat came into the light.
Bright vivid green hair was messily matted across a forehead, messy but chilling white clown makeup was plastered all over his face. And the body was tenderly upholstered with the finest purple silk suit found on this side of the hemisphere. The man’s bright crimson colored lips were pulled down in a frown as he looked up at the building – inspecting its radiating ugliness that he could only see with his acidic green eyes that burned.
The Joker – a name more synonymous with the Devil than a mischievous clown had recently sprung out of Arkham Asylum. After only a few days of wandering around aimlessly – leaving more bodies in his wake – he randomly stumbled upon this old building and at first sight declared the building to be unfit to exist while he still did.
Though he was a criminal master mind, in his soul he knew he was also an artist. Often times he considered himself to be the interior decorator for Gotham, blowing up buildings he thought were just not up to his standards of living. He never did see why no one appreciated his efforts in making the city a better place, how much money he saved the tax payers. And what did it matter that he took the figure of speech “Paint the town RED” literally – and started using the blood of his victims to paint smiley faces all over the side of the walls? At least it added some color into their colorless lives! And at that instant he wanted to blow the building up – that sadistic and yet artistic side of him came up. Really, if anything he’d be blowing up an all too overrated fashion sense that seemed to spread around like the black plague.
“Moe! Larry! Curly!” Each respectively stepped up as their “name” was called.
Out of no where, each was tossed a two by four large wooden plank, nails sticking out at the end of it. They looked at their employer haphazardly as his grin slowly transformed into something more maniacal.
“And now kiddies, why don’t you show me what happened when Fuzzy Bear met Jerry Porcupine at the old hollow tree stump in the woods right next to Peter Rabbit's gingerbread house..."
[/font]
I'M NOT MAD BATMAN! by a.l.e.x. of caution 2.0? (edited by Tori)
