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That Wild Talent
a universe full of surprises, that is what I pray for...
How's My Driving: Herein goes complaints, criticism, praise, suggestions, etc.


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Sheeana's memories of losing her village, from Heretics of DuneCollapse )
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What dreams may come.Collapse )
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Location: Station Sector 3
Who: Sheeana, OPEN
What: Sheeana meditates on her new responsibilities and wonders if she's a bit of a worrywart
Warning(s): wordiness

She stepped down from the crumbling plasteel blocks into the orange sand. After the built up optimized environments they'd all recently come from (crystal towers, togas, etiquette, all the things a desert creature sneered at), it was a relief to feel it under her feet. Small plumes of sand sprouted from all over the basin and tiny sandworms (no more than fifteen feet long each, yet carrying the heritage of leviathans) sprouted up before her and begged for attention like eager puppies. "Of course. I've neglected you lately, haven't I?"

So, while the rest of the crew was celebrating with Qhalavian liquor they'd just 'liberated', Sheeana danced for her worms, whirling and stomping rythmlessly until they seemed temporarily satisfied. They swayed with her too, remembered flames within frames made by little crystal needleteeth.

She sat down with them and let them climb over her. She poured out her concerns over the crew's growing overconfidence to them, not expecting an answer though she knew the man inside them could give her one if he could only speak. Ah, but would you want that, Leto?

And then she noticed someone coming through the doorway that only opened with a violent impact, blue irising open to reveal her sitting cross legged with her children/ancestor. I shouldn't be surprised. My sietch knows to find me here.
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ancient history goes hereCollapse )
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Your name: Never gonna give you up
Your LJ: never gonna let you down
Your email: never gonna run around and
Your AIM, MSN, or Yahoo handle: desert you

Character's name: Isaac Dan Der Grimnebulin
Character's LJ: registered upon acceptance
Character's canon: The Bas Lag Novels
Brief (around 300 words) personality outline of your character:

Isaac, unlike all of my other characters, is pretty chill. No JUST AS PLANNED, no tsundere, no PTSD. He rolls pretty well with the punches. His intellect is run more like an artist's than a steady scientist. In other words he's far more hare than tortoise. The downside of this is he has some difficulty working when inspiration hasn't struck him, causing him to spend his down periods getting drunk at pubs or just staring at the ceiling.

He has some feeling for politics and the world around him. He's a subscriber to the illegal seditious newspaper Runagate Rampant. He's also contradictorily courageous when it comes to his projects. He takes a carriage to the most dangerous slum in the city without a second thought for a research project. Yet he's not courageous enough, or perhaps too in his own little world to actually join one of the city's numerous antigovernment groups. Or perhaps he just thinks "I've done my bit.".

In the romance department we have two examples: His Ex, Bellis, who is 100% tsuntsun and his current girlfriend, Lynn, a Khepri (all female race who have giant scarab beetles for heads). He seems to want to be more open about his relationship with her outside of their circle of bohemians but also fears reprisals...Less than her, though. This may indicate a degree of xenophilia, something I tend to make part of my headcanon.

Brief (around 500 words) history and background of your character OR link to a really good wiki page with their history. In either case, explain where they cut off from the timeline: Not much is known about Isaac's early life. We never meet any of his relatives. He has a casual attitude towards things that seems to indicate to me that he wasn't an orphan though, so we can assume he's simply estranged from them. Certainly when he leaves the city he's already with the only people he feels like contacting.

At some point we know he accepted some kind of post at New Crobuzon University. However tension between him and the university grew when he became obsessed with the disproved theory of Crisis Energy. He eventually either resigned his post or was fired. Relations between him and the university remain tetchy, though he is on good enough terms with the head of the science department that he will sometimes let him use the U.'s equipment.

We also know that he was involved in a relationship with the translator Bellis Coldwine, protagonist of the second book in the series.

His activities after the start of the book are detailed in the wiki: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Perdido_Street_Station

He will be taken from just before a giant transdimensional spider with two human arms demands he float nude in the river then cuts his ear off. Did I mention this novel is considered a masterpiece of the "New Weird" genre?

Sample post (just a general, everyday, puttering-around-the-ship post; please include a snippet of dialogue): Over the course of hours, the thing had emerged under practiced hands. Gears showed bright (they shouldn't be showing, he thought, it looked sloppy) in intricate arrays. The center was a metal crucible filled with water, open at the top. Extending from it were a number of tentacles in crinkly brass. The base of each had a small gearbox too.

Extending from the crucible was a small fluted mouth. A wick hovered over the mouth, anchored at the main body. Painted on the wick's base were a number of thaumaturgic arrays.

Isaac, emerging from his creative mania, smiled tiredly at his creation. It was an eldritch looking thing, having something of the octopus to it. Something a courageous inventor would activate to thwart an evil zeppelin baron.

The sillhouette of a shaggy looking man in his early twenties darkened the doorway of engineering. Isaac turned his head and grinned. "You're just in time for the test."

Plays-in-Traffic looked dubiously at it. "You sure this is gonna work? No offense, but it looks a bit like it might blow up in our faces."

Isaac made a pshawing dismissive noises and turned a key set into the body of the device. The thaumaturgic array glowed bright and the wick over the fluted lip ignited the strange fuel packed tight into the mouth. The octopuslike arms jerked, alive with puissance. Most waved slow and random like worms in the tide. One abruptly shot after Isaac's face. It gleamed menacingly and probed at his lips.

Isaac ripped a monster bong hit.

"For...a...werewolf...you worry. Too much." He choked out before exhaling fully.

If the character has magic, mutant, or otherwise metahuman abilities, please explain what they are and outline EXACTLY how they function, as their powers may not work due to the nature of the ship or may need to be limited somehow:

Non-superhuman special abilities of note (Is your character a master ventriloquist? A naturally-occurring super-genius? The best martial artist in the world? Say so here): Isaac is an expert in his universe's brand of strange physics and a potent mad scientist, capable of engineering steampunk-alchemic versions of pretty much anything you can imagine, given sufficient time and beer.
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A crowd has gathered, black and white / Arms entwined, the chosen fewCollapse )


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Sheeana was becoming uncomfortably acquainted with the mistakes of Jessica Atreides. In a way she'd been doing this most of her life, but in the past couple months it had been increasing in pace exponentially until she felt herself overwhelmed by her world's distant past.

This was what she thought as she regarded Alia Atreides over her bowl of goo. Blue-within-blue eyes met like ones as she gulped the disgusting stuff. She could have taken it to the sensoriums of course, fooled her senses into thinking it was the finest slig stew and spicebread.

That was not the Bene Gesserit way though. They were here, conscripts and refugees in an interdimensional war, not dining in the finest halls of [Arak]Keen, not sorrounded by the scent of incense and the whispers of courtesans. This organic yet utilitarian cafeteria was their reality now.

She put the bowl down on the bonelike table and grinned up at the imposing Atreides. She was sure Alia knew that. The woman was known for the lovers she took. She had other ways of distracting herself, ones even the best simulations could not truly provide.

She waited, drawing out the tension to see what she had to say.

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Application: Trans 9Collapse )
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