AMENDMENT: I've re-read the app and realised that the sample LiveJournal entry isn't actually very good. So here's another one instead. Remember - snarky and sarcastic.
First Person (entry type):
Well, I guess this is one way to while away a boring evening; it's probably about time I got to grips with these things. Let's just say me and my hands don't exactly get along too well with delicate manual work. What do you kids get up to around here these days, anyway?
If you do know me, good. That saves time. If you don't know me, even better. I've been called a lot of things in my time, most of them not very flattering, but around here you can call me Victor Creed. Oh, and if anyone sees a James Logan around, you be sure to tell him I said hello.
[The microphone clicks on and the noise of heavy industrial machinery can be heard thrumming in the background. It sounds like a factory, a processing plant or, say, a power station.]
I hate this place.
[A deep, resonant voice cuts through the background noise. Although the speaker delivers his words slowly, he sounds thoughtful rather than mentally dull. It sounds as if he's speaking to someone who isn't really there. An absent friend, perhaps. A scratching noise also starts to be heard then, similar to the scraping of a sharp knife over dry wood. Unknown to the listeners, the speaker is digging his nails into the panel of a desk in front of him.]
Really, words can't describe how much I hate it here. It’s not so much the noise; I mean, shit, who would appreciate being woken up at 4am by the sound of gunfire or having their concentration interrupted by the repetitive screams? Not that I can't cope with the screams. Oh, believe me, I can cope with the screams.
[He laughs nastily.]
No, the thing I really hate about it here is the smell.
That thick, cloying scent of antiseptic in the medical facility. The sour stench of so many unwashed bodies crammed into a small space. The big-city smog that just clings to your clothes and refuses to let go. After all this time, I still can't say I'll ever get used to it. Makes me wish sometimes that we could head back into the Northwest Territories... but no. We could never go back to that. We could never go back to what we were.
Still, things could be worse. At least Wade can’t go around shooting his mouth off any more.
[There is a wicked chuckle as the speaker says this, then silence as the scratching noise ceases abruptly.]
They’ve found you, Jimmy.
[Silence for a few more moments.]
I don't know how they did it, but they've found you. I always kind of hoped I'd get to you first.
We both knew it would happen, little brother. How long did you think you could keep on running? Blood's thicker than water, and your skull's a lot thicker than mine. I guess Stryker always did have a soft spot for you after all. If it were up to me I'd already be on my way; we both know a thousand miles of trail dust is nothing when you've been walking for over a hundred years, but a deal's a deal. I'm going to give you what you want, and you don't even know it yet. That's just the nice, caring kind of brother that I am.
Be patient, he says. Be patient, as if six years of waiting weren’t being patient enough. And now I hear you're playing at being a lumberjack, cutting down trees, eating your lunch, all that mundane kind of shit. I mean, really, Jimmy. You know we're not like them. Who are you trying to fool here?
[The speaker's voice is filled with contempt now; contempt, and a cold, calculating evil.]
...and you have a woman now, don't you? I hear Stryker has plans for her. Is she pretty, Jimmy? Who knows, perhaps I have some more intimate plans of my own for her.
[Another horrible snicker, and then the speaker's voice takes on a more serious tone.]
Well, I guess I'm done here. You play your little game, and I'll play mine, and we'll see who wins out in the end. I guess we’re both just too stupid to quit, and too damn stubborn to die.
We're sorry, but this application has been rejected. We would reccomend reevaluating your characterization when it comes to his motivation. Consider taking into account everyone else's feelings on Victor's to get a more accurate idea. While his voice is nearly there, we feel that some aspects of his personality, such as his spontaneity and the plausible reasons for him to join the community, are somewhat lacking. If you would like a more specific explanation, feel free to contact Nor for one; she would be happy to elaborate. Please feel free to reapply!
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First Person (entry type):
Well, I guess this is one way to while away a boring evening; it's probably about time I got to grips with these things. Let's just say me and my hands don't exactly get along too well with delicate manual work. What do you kids get up to around here these days, anyway?
If you do know me, good. That saves time. If you don't know me, even better. I've been called a lot of things in my time, most of them not very flattering, but around here you can call me Victor Creed. Oh, and if anyone sees a James Logan around, you be sure to tell him I said hello.
There, wasn't that nice?
PENDING - Second Sample
VOICE POST GO!
[The microphone clicks on and the noise of heavy industrial machinery can be heard thrumming in the background. It sounds like a factory, a processing plant or, say, a power station.]
I hate this place.
[A deep, resonant voice cuts through the background noise. Although the speaker delivers his words slowly, he sounds thoughtful rather than mentally dull. It sounds as if he's speaking to someone who isn't really there. An absent friend, perhaps. A scratching noise also starts to be heard then, similar to the scraping of a sharp knife over dry wood. Unknown to the listeners, the speaker is digging his nails into the panel of a desk in front of him.]
Really, words can't describe how much I hate it here. It’s not so much the noise; I mean, shit, who would appreciate being woken up at 4am by the sound of gunfire or having their concentration interrupted by the repetitive screams? Not that I can't cope with the screams. Oh, believe me, I can cope with the screams.
[He laughs nastily.]
No, the thing I really hate about it here is the smell.
That thick, cloying scent of antiseptic in the medical facility. The sour stench of so many unwashed bodies crammed into a small space. The big-city smog that just clings to your clothes and refuses to let go. After all this time, I still can't say I'll ever get used to it. Makes me wish sometimes that we could head back into the Northwest Territories... but no. We could never go back to that. We could never go back to what we were.
Still, things could be worse. At least Wade can’t go around shooting his mouth off any more.
[There is a wicked chuckle as the speaker says this, then silence as the scratching noise ceases abruptly.]
They’ve found you, Jimmy.
[Silence for a few more moments.]
I don't know how they did it, but they've found you. I always kind of hoped I'd get to you first.
We both knew it would happen, little brother. How long did you think you could keep on running? Blood's thicker than water, and your skull's a lot thicker than mine. I guess Stryker always did have a soft spot for you after all. If it were up to me I'd already be on my way; we both know a thousand miles of trail dust is nothing when you've been walking for over a hundred years, but a deal's a deal. I'm going to give you what you want, and you don't even know it yet. That's just the nice, caring kind of brother that I am.
Be patient, he says. Be patient, as if six years of waiting weren’t being patient enough. And now I hear you're playing at being a lumberjack, cutting down trees, eating your lunch, all that mundane kind of shit. I mean, really, Jimmy. You know we're not like them. Who are you trying to fool here?
[The speaker's voice is filled with contempt now; contempt, and a cold, calculating evil.]
...and you have a woman now, don't you? I hear Stryker has plans for her. Is she pretty, Jimmy? Who knows, perhaps I have some more intimate plans of my own for her.
[Another horrible snicker, and then the speaker's voice takes on a more serious tone.]
Well, I guess I'm done here. You play your little game, and I'll play mine, and we'll see who wins out in the end. I guess we’re both just too stupid to quit, and too damn stubborn to die.
[The recording ends.]
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