Discontent Member
in my Disco Tent
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Question: should we perhaps work out here how well everyone knows each other?
I'll probably be able to get a post up by either tomorrow or the day after. Today was full on, so I'm not really in the mood to post now.
12:45
Alex strolled through the town with a book plastered to her face. From an outsiders perspective, it seemed like it was rather unsafe, as it seemed like she literally had no idea what was in front of her. The reality wasn't that far off from that, although she did occasionally look up every now and then. Occasionally.
'History of the Martini'. A book she had read a couple times before, yet still hadn't managed to commit to memory -- although she was doing pretty well. That was the plan, when one day she could literally recite the history of every single drink in history. A daunting task, but she felt she could eventually do it. Yet reciting history was not what she was doing. Rather, she was waiting until somebody bumped into her. Literally. It hadn't quite occurred to her yet how strange that would sound if she said it aloud, but she found it a recurring theme in media that conversations would be started upon bumping into someone, causing everything to drop. Then bam, instant conversation, allowing her to practice socializing with strangers!
She seemed to have forgotten that TV shows and movies mostly used cliché in romances, but it didn't seem to be working anyway. She'd been walking around for an hour, yet nothing had happened. Everybody just politely walked around her... and there were not enough people in the town in the first place. After another twenty minutes of pointlessly walking around, she finally had an inkling of just how mind-numbingly stupid she was being. Lowering the book, she sighed heavily, cursing the false advertising that was film and television. It was like fictional stories were not a proper representation of reality, or something. Ridiculous.
She needed something better to do with her mornings and afternoons. Gardening could only take up so much time, and she wasn’t willing to spend the entire day doing it, nor did she want to stay at her house for the entire day. She decided to just go take a leisurely stroll through the forest for a bit.
Alex strolled through the town with a book plastered to her face. From an outsiders perspective, it seemed like it was rather unsafe, as it seemed like she literally had no idea what was in front of her. The reality wasn't that far off from that, although she did occasionally look up every now and then. Occasionally.
'History of the Martini'. A book she had read a couple times before, yet still hadn't managed to commit to memory -- although she was doing pretty well. That was the plan, when one day she could literally recite the history of every single drink in history. A daunting task, but she felt she could eventually do it. Yet reciting history was not what she was doing. Rather, she was waiting until somebody bumped into her. Literally. It hadn't quite occurred to her yet how strange that would sound if she said it aloud, but she found it a recurring theme in media that conversations would be started upon bumping into someone, causing everything to drop. Then bam, instant conversation, allowing her to practice socializing with strangers!
She seemed to have forgotten that TV shows and movies mostly used cliché in romances, but it didn't seem to be working anyway. She'd been walking around for an hour, yet nothing had happened. Everybody just politely walked around her... and there were not enough people in the town in the first place. After another twenty minutes of pointlessly walking around, she finally had an inkling of just how mind-numbingly stupid she was being. Lowering the book, she sighed heavily, cursing the false advertising that was film and television. It was like fictional stories were not a proper representation of reality, or something. Ridiculous.
She needed something better to do with her mornings and afternoons. Gardening could only take up so much time, and she wasn’t willing to spend the entire day doing it, nor did she want to stay at her house for the entire day. She decided to just go take a leisurely stroll through the forest for a bit.
OKAY. I yet again apologize. I'll get a post up in an hour or so.
Figure since I never got a chance to use him, I'd just use Shawn again.
Name: Shawn Burnham
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Orientation: Asexual
Relationship Status: Single
Occupation: Construction worker
Favourite Books: Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas by Hunter S. Thompson, Catch-22 by Joseph Heller, American Psycho by Bret Easton Ellis and A Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess.
Personality: Shawn tries to be friendly and polite to people, but due to his deep-seated rage issues, this often proves difficult. He has always had a hair-trigger temper that he never, not once in his life, learned to control. This was always more due to a lack of knowledge on proper social skills, rather than out of genuine malice. He just never quite understood subtle social queues or what is considered acceptable behaviour to other people, meaning that he can often be blissfully unaware of the nature of his actions. A lot of his general rudeness isn't because he's an intentional jerk, but because he never talked to enough people to learn basic social etiquette. When not factoring in his temper, Shawn just proves to be incredibly awkward, lonely, insecure, childish, and one big barrel of self-loathing.
Brief Bio: Shawn's upbringing and home life was positively idyllic -- he grew up in a middle class family in a reasonably sized two-story house in a relatively safe neighbourhood. His parents were more-or-less loving and doting people, and he went to wealthy private school where bullying was rarely a problem. All in all, there was no trauma or abuse that could possibly explain his behaviour -- yet to him, that just makes his rage issues more troubling because he's convinced that he has no-one else to blame but himself. In school, he always instantly shut down any prospect of friendship by accidentally saying or doing say something abrasive or rude, leading to constant isolation. At his younger age, he never quite understood why no-one liked him, any council from his parents or the school all going directly over his head. Thus, he never tried to adjust his behaviour, and was fully convinced that it was somehow other people's fault, never his own. When he actually realized what was wrong in his teenage years, he was far too entrenched in how he acted to actually properly change anything -- it was all unconscious behaviour that he was only barely aware of. After he left home he found that he could never really get any job where he had to work with many people, and after a while searching, settled on being a construction worker, as he was always quite physically fit. He stills fails to make any real friendships and relationships, despite constant attempts, and often goes to the library after or in-between work.
Appearance: Shawn generally gives the impression that appearance is the last thing on his mind. His chestnut brown hair is grown out long past his neck, which he keep tied up in a ponytail with his hair pushed back from his forehead. He has a rather poorly shaven beard as well, with random patches of his chin merely showing signs of stubble while others have obviously just been outright forgotten. He has a triangular face with a wide forehead and a pointed chin, with grey-blue eyes that often seem to stare and wonder around room, with straight eyebrows that always seem to have a slightly irritated frown. At 6 feet tall, he stands up tilted and rather slouched, with a lean, athletic and physically fit body. His clothes are often messy, usually just throwing on the first thing he pulls out from his closet.
Other: Shawn often has a massive problem remembering people's names.
I love books, y'know.
Name: Shawn Burnham
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Orientation: Asexual
Relationship Status: Single
Occupation: Construction worker
Favourite Books: Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas by Hunter S. Thompson, Catch-22 by Joseph Heller, American Psycho by Bret Easton Ellis and A Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess.
Personality: Shawn tries to be friendly and polite to people, but due to his deep-seated rage issues, this often proves difficult. He has always had a hair-trigger temper that he never, not once in his life, learned to control. This was always more due to a lack of knowledge on proper social skills, rather than out of genuine malice. He just never quite understood subtle social queues or what is considered acceptable behaviour to other people, meaning that he can often be blissfully unaware of the nature of his actions. A lot of his general rudeness isn't because he's an intentional jerk, but because he never talked to enough people to learn basic social etiquette. When not factoring in his temper, Shawn just proves to be incredibly awkward, lonely, insecure, childish, and one big barrel of self-loathing.
Brief Bio: Shawn's upbringing and home life was positively idyllic -- he grew up in a middle class family in a reasonably sized two-story house in a relatively safe neighbourhood. His parents were more-or-less loving and doting people, and he went to wealthy private school where bullying was rarely a problem. All in all, there was no trauma or abuse that could possibly explain his behaviour -- yet to him, that just makes his rage issues more troubling because he's convinced that he has no-one else to blame but himself. In school, he always instantly shut down any prospect of friendship by accidentally saying or doing say something abrasive or rude, leading to constant isolation. At his younger age, he never quite understood why no-one liked him, any council from his parents or the school all going directly over his head. Thus, he never tried to adjust his behaviour, and was fully convinced that it was somehow other people's fault, never his own. When he actually realized what was wrong in his teenage years, he was far too entrenched in how he acted to actually properly change anything -- it was all unconscious behaviour that he was only barely aware of. After he left home he found that he could never really get any job where he had to work with many people, and after a while searching, settled on being a construction worker, as he was always quite physically fit. He stills fails to make any real friendships and relationships, despite constant attempts, and often goes to the library after or in-between work.
Appearance: Shawn generally gives the impression that appearance is the last thing on his mind. His chestnut brown hair is grown out long past his neck, which he keep tied up in a ponytail with his hair pushed back from his forehead. He has a rather poorly shaven beard as well, with random patches of his chin merely showing signs of stubble while others have obviously just been outright forgotten. He has a triangular face with a wide forehead and a pointed chin, with grey-blue eyes that often seem to stare and wonder around room, with straight eyebrows that always seem to have a slightly irritated frown. At 6 feet tall, he stands up tilted and rather slouched, with a lean, athletic and physically fit body. His clothes are often messy, usually just throwing on the first thing he pulls out from his closet.
Other: Shawn often has a massive problem remembering people's names.
I love books, y'know.
You or Leon.
Krista approves of these lewd games.
Righto, hopefully this'll go a bit better than last time. Seriously, everybody just up and disappeared. Annoying as hell.
Anyway, yup, I'm in again.
Anyway, yup, I'm in again.
Posted. I'm guessing we don't know what's happened to Pyro?
As soon as they had gotten back in range, Krista had been on the phone, speaking with a few people who had been in need of her translation service, and hadn't been able to reach her during the day. A few dates were set for her to work -- Nomad Company wasn't exactly a full time job for her -- and she gave a couple free translations for some of her contacts within Hotel Moscow. After she was done, she joined the group as Jack start alerting everyone of the damage done. It was pretty bad, apparently -- not surprising, considering the attacks. She was surprised they made it out alive.
When Jack was done with his little talk, Krista hauled herself up from the couch, moving towards the kitchen. She pulled out a six-pack from the fridge, ripping one off and bringing the rest with her back to the couches, placing it on the coffee table for anybody's leisure. Alice had apparently brought a bong along, and was passing it to Leon and Dimitri -- instantly filling Krista with the desire to call out Sunshine's blatant hypocrisy towards the woman's less-than-colourful comments at her just previously in the boat. Something about Krista being a 'crack-head'.
Not exactly wishing to incur the wrath of the team's soon-to-be-high psychotic, she kept her mouth shut, and listened intently to Dimitri's story about a man from his old unit. Sipping down some beer, she burst out laughing as the story finished, just as Dimitri did the same. "Oh, man," she said in-between laughter, although gave a short look of disapproval as Sunshine punched her favourite demo-man in the arm. "Now, heh, that sounds like a man I'd like to meet. Reminds me of this time wh--" she trailed off as Sunshine decided to completely and utterly obliterate the nice little mood Dimitri managed to set up. All laughter quickly dried up, and was replaced with feelings of irritation as Sunshine recounted aspects of her oh-so-horrible life. Krista managed to hide her annoyance, but she wasn't exactly going to fake empathy, or even sympathy, for the woman. Mainly because Krista knew that if there was ever a time where she broke down and vocalized how she regretted the path she took in life, then Sunshine would react with nothing but scorn and insults.
"Jesus fuck. Sunshine, why the hell would you buy this, then?" she said, sighing heavily as she leant further into the couch. "Fairly sure there are plenty of drugs that don't induce horrifying flashbacks, and you seem like the last person who'd want traumatic renditions of past experiences."
When Jack was done with his little talk, Krista hauled herself up from the couch, moving towards the kitchen. She pulled out a six-pack from the fridge, ripping one off and bringing the rest with her back to the couches, placing it on the coffee table for anybody's leisure. Alice had apparently brought a bong along, and was passing it to Leon and Dimitri -- instantly filling Krista with the desire to call out Sunshine's blatant hypocrisy towards the woman's less-than-colourful comments at her just previously in the boat. Something about Krista being a 'crack-head'.
Not exactly wishing to incur the wrath of the team's soon-to-be-high psychotic, she kept her mouth shut, and listened intently to Dimitri's story about a man from his old unit. Sipping down some beer, she burst out laughing as the story finished, just as Dimitri did the same. "Oh, man," she said in-between laughter, although gave a short look of disapproval as Sunshine punched her favourite demo-man in the arm. "Now, heh, that sounds like a man I'd like to meet. Reminds me of this time wh--" she trailed off as Sunshine decided to completely and utterly obliterate the nice little mood Dimitri managed to set up. All laughter quickly dried up, and was replaced with feelings of irritation as Sunshine recounted aspects of her oh-so-horrible life. Krista managed to hide her annoyance, but she wasn't exactly going to fake empathy, or even sympathy, for the woman. Mainly because Krista knew that if there was ever a time where she broke down and vocalized how she regretted the path she took in life, then Sunshine would react with nothing but scorn and insults.
"Jesus fuck. Sunshine, why the hell would you buy this, then?" she said, sighing heavily as she leant further into the couch. "Fairly sure there are plenty of drugs that don't induce horrifying flashbacks, and you seem like the last person who'd want traumatic renditions of past experiences."
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