Out Of Coffee: Hey peeps. I'd like to join. I posted my character profiles on the character form, so is there anything else I need to do?
EDIT: Okay, I just re-read the rules, so i'm pretty sure I can just start.
Name: Mola
Race: Grubb
Gender: Male
Age: 20 in human years (but has the brain capacity of an eight-year-old, pretty much)
Appearance: He’s short and thin, with large eyes that are a robins-egg blue and pale green skin. He wears a pair of swamp green swimming trunks with mustard-colored stitches that are slightly big for him, a domed straw hat, and a satchel that he wears strapped to his back.
Personality: He’s a complete spazz, often running full-throttle into walls without even realizing it. He’s outgoing, extremely talkative, and irritating, and will do absolutely anything for attention. He acts before he thinks, but no matter what the outcome is, he always ends up alright and somehow manages to do it again. He’s also sympathetic, gullible, and a very easy person to talk to.
Equipment: The only thing he carries is his satchel, which is packed with items that he manages to find uses for even though they’d be useless otherwise. (Ex. A roll of plastic wrap that he uses as a numchuck) He can run really, really fast, and has the stamina of a work horse. I didn't know where to put that part. o.o;;
History: He was discovered as an orphan by the Wetland Village, a village on, wouldn’t you know it, a wetland. It was inhabited by friendly grubbs who raised him as a group; he calls all the females who took care of him ‘mom’ and all the males ‘dad’. Because of this lifestyle he grew to be extremely outgoing, though he never lost his habit of being a pain in the butt.
The grubbs decided that he needed him to put all his energy to use somehow, so sent him off to Rupture Farms in search of work.
Name: Ophelia, leader of the Wetland Village
Race: Grubb
Gender: Female
Age: 26 in human years
Appearance: A tall female grubb wearing typical leader garb: spiky red headdress, red arm bands, and a red bikini top with a matching loincloth. She has silver eyes, long eyelashes, normal grey skin, and coal-black tail and elbow fins.
Personality: She acts sweet and innocent, but often snaps like a twig and goes from angel to spawn of the devil in seconds. Afterwards she’s bossy, obnoxious, rude, mean, and an overall psychopath.
Equipment: An Uzi-like gun that she spray-painted cherry pink. She keeps it at her hip by a red belt around her waist, and has a belt of bullet cartridges that she wears like a sash on one shoulder.
History: She was born in the Wetland village and was chosen from birth to be the successor of the previous leader. She was raised to be a perfect leader for the grubbs: peaceful, considerate, charismatic. Unfortunately, she was none of these. From the start she was a rough-and-tumble tomboy who liked pro wrestling more than the latest fashion, and no matter what her family tried, they couldn’t change her. Eventually she became leader, but acted more like a warlord. All the young grubbs who were only interested in fighting looked up to her. One day she decided was Mola seriously needed to get a job and burn the endless stores of energy in his body, so she journeyed with him to Rapture Farms to find him work.
BIC:
After what felt like hours of trying to find seats, getting cramps from sitting in the same position, and Mola pointing out every single thing that passed ('Look, a scrab!' 'Look, a tree!') the train finally ground to a hault. The doors swung open and Mola sprang out as nimble as a leaping gazelle with a loud "WEEEEE!" and hit the ground with the grace of a rock. Ophelia groaned and pulled Mola up off the floor, and he glanced around the gloomy room, his eyes wide with dread. They were on the second floor train station. Ophelia frowned.
So much for a first impression. She thought, her eyes shifting uneasily.
They had come here in search of work for Mola, who had a virtually endless supply of energy to burn and nothing to use it on. They had diligently searched for weeks, with no success; Mola never stayed occupied on one task for long, and had more fun running up and down hallways for hours than manual labor.
"This place is scary." Mola said suddently. Ophelia sighed. She had planned to just dump the energenic grubb when they arrived, but the more she looked around, the more she realised she just couldn't do that: Mola would just get lost on his own in such a place. He was very vunerable.
Ophelia made a determined face and marched right in the building, Mola shuffling warily behind and peeking over her shoulder. Ophelia crossed her arms, satisfied. "You see? Its not so bad. Sure its a little depressing... some of its a bit dececript... and," she sniffed the air, "...it smells funny. But i'm sure there must be some work, I mean, this place is a mess, so..." her voice trailed off. Mola stepped forward. He looked around, left, right, up...
"Look!" Mola cried, pointing a trembling finger at the cieling. "A spider!" He sprang at it, flailing his arms and hopping around in a circle. Ophelia said sourly;
"Yes. Its a spider."
"But look!" He exclaimed, still jumping at it. "Have you ever just
looked at a spider? They have eight legs! What's up with that?!"
Ophelia inhaled deeply and released a deep, shuddering sigh.
Surely nobody would hire
him, right?
I wouldn't be surprised if she went further than Mola in fact.
