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SaveYou · by **SaveYou** on Sat Jun 27, 2009 2:52 am

You've got ten 21st Century Breakdown song references in your profile =D

Your profile is amazing Beth, as always -- accepted, definitely!

NorthernSoul · by **NorthernSoul** on Sun Jun 28, 2009 5:31 am

Finished my profile. Let me know if it's OK or if there's anything you'd like me to change.

SaveYou · by **SaveYou** on Sun Jun 28, 2009 6:04 am

It's fine, NorthernSoul, accepted

NorthernSoul · by **NorthernSoul** on Wed Jul 01, 2009 1:14 pm

What happened to this? It looked as if it had promise...

MidniteHallows · by **MidniteHallows** on Wed Jul 01, 2009 1:26 pm

I know. It was so interesting and looked like it could go places! Such potential. But, sigh, not enough commitment I guess?

SaveYou · by **SaveYou** on Wed Jul 01, 2009 2:21 pm

Sorry guys, I was trying to give everyone a chance to post before I went any further with this. I know MEGAcya was gone for the weekend, and that Whatsername still had to finish their profile, so I was going to wait a bit longer for them, but I'll get it all properly started now.

(Also MidniteHallows, Avenged Sevenfold signature ftw)

Diedra · by **Diedra** on Wed Jul 01, 2009 5:10 pm

Still accepting? This looks AWESOME - cannot stress that enough.

SaveYou · by **SaveYou** on Wed Jul 01, 2009 5:12 pm

Yes, Diedra, we are; pick a spot and make a character =D

MidniteHallows · by **MidniteHallows** on Wed Jul 01, 2009 7:18 pm

Thank you very much, SaveYou. It took me forever to find good enough icons to use. Glad to know I'm not the only one who likes it.

Diedra · by **Diedra** on Thu Jul 02, 2009 1:19 pm

NAME;;
Caleb Capison Armistead
I'm working on drawing a pic.

AGE;;
29

GENDER;;
Male

SIDE;;
Charlatan

PERSONALITY;;

The Good Guy on the Wrong Side
not person, just personnel.

Caleb's first impression is of quiet intelligence. His face is placid and even in motion he seems still, and yet every feeling, every thought he has shows completely and uncontrollably on his face and in his posture. It's a trick that few can pull off but Caleb cannot avoid.
First impressions are not always correct. While not void of intelligence, Caleb's brains aren't of the particularly useful variety. If he lived in any other time he would have spent the majority of his life very confused, the world utterly incomprehensible to him, not because he's dumb, but because he can understand a little too much and not quite enough. In this way the government is a boon to him, because it filled the blankness of his mind and eyes with propaganda, told him exactly what to think, what to believe, how to move, gave him a level of conviction rarely attained in this world. It's this conviction that you see in his eyes that makes him look intelligent, makes him look like he knows what he's doing. Somewhere inside Caleb he's childlike. He's dependent on the drivel he's fed and dangerously capable of acting on it.

Caleb hates lying. It feels clumsy and uncomfortable and, on some forgotten level, wrong to him. He's naturally honest and genuine, a good person through and through, and his face is incapable of hiding anything. You feel you can look right through him, or rather, that there is nothing to look through, that everything there is to know is right there on the surface. It's this impression that makes him useful. People trust him and it would never occur to them that he might be capable of being a double agent. Sometimes he can't understand how he does it.
He says he's "decently adequate" in a firefight but in fact he's not. He's not highly skilled in any useful way or very pretty or very charismatic. His only defining quality, the thing that makes him highly valuable to the government, is his unwavering loyalty. He is the ideal American; he doesn't question, for the word of his superiors is gospel. He believes hard, kills and never asks why. Caleb, with all his glowing innocence and good intentions, is in fact a very frightening person.

HISTORY;;
Caleb's life has been a series of extraordinary events that he entirely failed to notice.
His memories of childhood are filled with the hunger and hopelessness of the homeless, and also with a guilt imposed only now, in adult life, now that it's been put in his willing mind that being homeless, being a drain on society, is abhorrent. It was, in fact, illegal to sleep on sidewalks at the time his family had nowhere else to rest their heads, but somehow, the nth time they were arrested, instead of being jailed Caleb's father and mother were given jobs in the government. Good jobs. High-ranking jobs in the upper echelons of society. It was unprecedented, but Caleb and his older and younger sisters could go to school, could lead good, "free" lives, so they didn't question, looked the other way and ceased to think about it.
And Caleb learned that the government was good. The omnipotent "They" had shown his family mercy. And They became the center of his life. Just as intended. You see, Caleb's potential was obvious. Even as a child you could see his propensity for loyalty and suseptibilty to propaganda from a mile away; the only bright colors he remembers from childhood are the seizure-inducing ads that lined the street. He would stand and stare at them, as if he'd always been searching for outside answers to fill his empty thoughts. Whenever someone was telling him what to think, what to feel, or what to do, he listened with rapt attention. Even if they were showing how a block of butter could be the natural center of a happy, healthy family life.
He joined the junior Peacekeepers at fourteen and did some pretty extraordinary things and got showered in medals, but of course it was only for following orders so well. He never stood out in any particular way, and ended up being hated by his peers for all the unwarranted attention he got. Caleb himself hardly noticed it, and didn't think he was anything all that special.
Just as They had planned, his life took stayed on a track to greatness in service. At 20 an opportunity diverted him from his career path as an officer of the law and started his training as an operative. Eventually he got the title "Second Assistant Adviser on Intra-National Enemies Policy" but in fact he has no such job. He sits in on the meetings, sure, but he doesn't advise, or even assist in advising. His sole duty is to distort the information he hears and smuggle the twisted-up version to the Resistance. While the information is bad the smuggling is real - if he's caught he's tried and executed just as if he was an actual rebel.
Caleb never really made a career decision for himself, and he never really had a life outside of his career. Every decision was made by some unseen force, guiding him into the right positions, providing opportunities, and manipulating his nature. He never woke up and said, "This is what I want to do with my life." It all just fell into place for him, like he was being pulled by the riptide of fate, and while he doesn't particularly like his work, he can't imagine another purpose in life.
His life in one sentence is service of a huge, faceless, conglomerate master. And while at first glance you wouldn't think it's worked out so well for him so far - he's in danger from both sides, receives little compensation, and is routinely and harshly interrogated in case of betrayal - but he gets to be absolutely certain of something. It doesn't matter that he's wrong. He gets something to believe in.

OTHER;;
You gotta be crazy, you gotta have a real need
You gotta sleep on your toes, and when you're on the street
You gotta be able to pick out the easy meat with your eyes closed
And then moving in silently, down wind and out of sight
You gotta strike when the moment is right without thinking.
And after a while, you can work on points for style
Like the club tie, and the firm handshake
A certain look in the eye, and an easy smile
You have to be trusted by the people that you lie to
So that when they turn their backs on you
You'll get the chance to put the knife in.
You gotta keep one eye looking over your shoulder
You know it's going to get harder, and harder, and harder as you get older
And in the end you'll pack up, fly down south
Hide your head in the sand
Just another sad old man
All alone and dying of cancer.
And when you loose control, you'll reap the harvest you have sown
And as the fear grows, the bad blood slows and turns to stone
And it's too late to loose the weight you used to need to throw around
So have a good drown, as you go down, all alone
Dragged down by the stone.
I gotta admit that I'm a little bit confused
Sometimes it seems to me as if I'm just being used
Gotta stay awake, gotta try and shake off this creeping malaise
If I don't stand my own ground, how can I find my way out of this maze?
Deaf, dumb, and blind, you just keep on pretending
That everyone's expendable and no-one has a real friend
And it seems to you the thing to do would be to isolate the winner
And everythings done under the sun
And you believe at heart, everyone's a killer.
Who was born in a house full of pain
Who was trained not to spit in the fan
Who was told what to do by the man
Who was broken by trained personnel
Who was fitted with collar and chain
Who was given a pat on the back
Who was breaking away from the pack
Who was only a stranger at home
Who was ground down in the end
Who was found dead on the phone
Who was dragged down by the stone.

((Hope referencing something other than Green Day isn't like, blasphemy or something. Don't get me wrong, I do love Green Day. But Dogs (Pink Floyd) is like, perfect for Caleb. Though the "dogs" were intended to be businessmen, I think the lyrics fit pretty perfectly.))

APPEARANCE DISCRIPTION;;
Caleb looks young and old at the same time.
His features are young, his expressions younger, and yet he looks worn. It might by the scars. Or maybe he's just tired of sleeping on his toes and keeping one eye over his shoulder.

His face is round with baby fat, his eyes big and pale, his nose upturned. He's all softness and honesty and radiates a cleanness that exists even when the face itself is dirty. Thick, raven black hair makes him look serious and completely fails to harmonize with his face. It weighs on his head, makes him look top-heavy. With how placid and still he is, every tiny muscle twitch speaks volumes, and if you look closely at his dead calm, you see fear.
He's tall but doesn't seem it. He's not weak but not particularly toned. There's not much that could make him stand out, but someho he has a presence to him. Keeping back, observing, taking it all in, he can listen so intently to a conversation he doesn't notice he hasn't said anything, and he's such a force in the room anyway that others don't notice his silence either. It's an important, profound silence. It's an expressive silence.

Whatsername · by **Whatsername** on Thu Jul 02, 2009 10:50 pm

D:! I'm insanely sorry. I came back from my trip and got a little bit of work done, and was planning on working on it today, but instead I decided to have myself ending up in the hospital. Fucking bicyclist decided not to see me on the sidewalk and I've got a cracked splene or fractured? I don't know exactly, but on the bright side, I won't have much more to do other than the computer, so hopefully I'll have my profile done in the next day! If someone else is looking for the spot though, I completely understand if you'd like to pass up my spot. No need to wait to post because of me. I'll jump in whenever. Thanks!

SaveYou · by **SaveYou** on Fri Jul 03, 2009 3:32 am

Don't worry about it, Whatsername, get your profile done when you can.

And God, bicylists are dicks aren't they? They're practically blind over her and I'm pretty sure they're not supposed to be that close to the bus doors D<

I sympathise with you, seriously. Just work on the profile whenever you can, and hope your spleen heals up =D

Diedra · by **Diedra** on Sun Jul 05, 2009 11:30 pm

Done with the sheet, besides the pic, which I'll try to get up by the end of tomorrow

SaveYou · by **SaveYou** on Tue Jul 07, 2009 10:54 am

No problem, Diedra. Do it when you can, and it doesn't matter about quoting people other than Green Day =D I mixed some Bon Jovi in with my last post, and Pink Floyd ftw.

Guys? What was the point about complaining about people not posting when you aren't going to do it yourselves? Is this going to be left to die, or is someone going to join in with the riot?

MidniteHallows · by **MidniteHallows** on Tue Jul 07, 2009 7:27 pm

I do apologize. My aunt was here for a while and the hard drive on my laptop just died. But I'm back and will be posting ASAP. Sorry again!

Whatsername, I hope your spleen heals soon. Bicyclists just think they own the side walk... -_-

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