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mod journal 2 - electric boogaloo.

[ website | There's No Air in the city. ]
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[Jun. 11th, 2006|09:05 am]
mod journal 2 - electric boogaloo.
Before applying, please be sure to read the rules, regulations and requirements, as well as the FAQ. Applications should all be posted in comments to this post.

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Please post your applications in at least two sections.

First section:
(Please post as a new comment)

Name:
Personal Journal:
Email:
AIM:
Other Instant Messenger:
Character Name:
Character Age:

Character History: (How did your character end up in Lysgar? Interpret their canon history for a realistic modern setting - be creative. We want to see that your character has depth and a believable background. What made them who they are?)


Second section:
(also to be posted as a new comment)

Writing Sample: (A third person account of a memorable event in your character's day. Feel free to include dialogue, but this sample should not be exclusively speech based. We want to get a sense of both your writing and their character.)

Journal Entry: (A first person example of an entry in your character's journal. Can be a first post, or something more established.)

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All applications will be screened until accepted. Once accepted, only the section involving who you were accepted as will be unscreened, your personal contact information will remain hidden.

You may only apply once unless invited to apply again by the moderators. Please note that applications for second or third characters must now also be cleared with the mods before posting.
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Comments:
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[User Picture]From: mikasaigo
2006-06-17 06:08 pm (UTC)
ah crap. That was me that just applied for Gin. >.< I coulda sworn i was logged in. *head-desk*

Name: Shannon
Personal Journal: mikasaigo.livejournal.com

should match that info. Really sorry about that >.
(Reply) (Thread)
[User Picture]From: na_mod
2006-06-19 01:55 am (UTC)
Accepted, with the conditions we talked about on AIM. Go ahead and make your journal, then reply here using it to post your revised history, please. Join the communities and friend everyone, then you're all set.
(Reply) (Parent) (Thread)
From: baked_miwa
2006-06-17 06:12 pm (UTC)

Hinamori App, part 2.

Writing Sample: "Order up! Hinamori, get your ass in gear!"

"Yes ma'am!" Spinning around with ease, the girl shifted through each table, having so keenly memorised the layout of the cafe. Balancing a tray in one hand and a pitcher in the other, she gave a sigh when she reached the cook's window. She set the tray down, and moved to refill the pitcher in the meantime, biting at the corner of her lip. Saturday nights were always busy; this night, however, was terribly important because of the entertainment that had booked the cafe.

She found it odd that, before that night, they'd never booked any entertainment. Then again, the cafe had never before been so packed. Maybe she was out of the loop, but she had no idea why at least fifty people (and more lining up outside) were so excited to see some pretty boy on an acoustic guitar. What had they become, a night club!?

"Table six, Hinamori! Stop bein' damn so slow!"

"Yes, ma'am!" She picked up the tray with ease, heading over towards her designated table with the same grace she had held that entire night, as far as maneuvering through the room went. In fact, that night had been a rather nice night, and she gotten an even nicer amount of tips. She was easily carrying over $100 with her by that time. And if she kept going at this rate--

She shrieked, falling forward, watching in horror as the food, the plates, the silverware, and the pitcher full of cola went crashing to the floor. Now drenched in the sticky u=substance -- god, she hated coke -- she looked back to see a man grinning down at her in amusement, his hand drawing back from where it had grabbed her. That jerk! Her eyes widened and she moved to stand, but before she could do much of anything--

"Hinamori." She bit her lip.

"Yes?"

"You can turn in for the night."

"Yes, ma'am."

Journal Entry: I can't believe it. That's never, ever happened before. I mean, of course it was a busy night, but I didn't expect anyone to be so -- so -- ugh! If I could've shown him a peice of my mind..

But now I have to wait from a call from my manager. She's so angry with me right now; she wouldn't even look at me when she told me to leave. Does she even know what happened!? I feel so low right now. I shouldn't have freaked out like that, but I couldn't help it. I mean, you just don't expect for a guy to randomly just-- well, you know.

I really need sleep. A bath sounds really nice, too.. maybe if one of the boys isn't taking up all the hot water, I'll sneak a bath tonight. I can pay them back tommorow by making breakfast, I think. And if not, I can.. I don't know, take over one of the other bills, or something.

I wonder if Izuru's free tonight.. I know I can trust him when I need to vent.

.. Oh, god, what if I lose my job!?
(Reply) (Thread)
[User Picture]From: na_mod
2006-06-19 01:40 am (UTC)

Re: Hinamori App, part 2.

Accepted. Make sure you've read all the rules, the FAQ, etc., and then make a journal and join no_air and no_air_ooc.

Also, on a side note--we felt that the journal entry was a little bit lacking; the "oh no have I lost my job?" bit is a rather cliché scenario, and there could have been a little more depth (although we all, at times, write entries that are goofy/short/lackluster). Additionally, Momo seems to be a person whose character seems greatly dictated by the actions of others. We suggest you speak to any character you believe Momo has had a history with. Remember--canon ties aren't necessarily important; canon personalities are.
(Reply) (Parent) (Thread)
From: ex_cascade28
2006-06-18 12:27 am (UTC)

Ukitake Jyuushirou, take two

Writing Sample:
It'd been a quarter after 11 when Jyuushirou finally made it home. The walk from clinic to apartment, he decided, wasn't nearly as refreshing as he thought it'd be, but it was a great cardio workout in any case. At the moment, however, Jyuushirou wanted nothing more than to get into the measly room, fall into his bed, and crash.

Halfway through the key-turn, it came to him. The all-too familiar pain seized his chest, the violent coughing following quickly afterward. It lasted for only eight seconds, but left him on the ground and feeling as if it went on for days. But despite it all, Jyuushirou continued to fumble with the key, almost desperately. He stumbled into his apartment, skipping the bed all together and settling for the portion of his floor that had carpet.

He spared a moment, just a moment, before he pushed himself back up, wiping at the sweat along his brow with an idle hand. He put his coat on the chair and his keys on the counter, and tried to remember where he put his slippers again this time.

Just another day.


Journal Entry:
Yesterday, a patient told me he wanted to die. That he was tired, so tired, of trying to live when life refused to work with him. Of trying to move on when your own legs won't move for you. He'd had enough; of the pain, the struggle, the constant question of, "Is this the end?"

It was odd, staring back at myself.

I told him I woke up that morning.

He stared at me and asked what that had to do with anything.

Then I smiled and told him, "Everything".

He didn't come back today.
(Reply) (Thread)
[User Picture]From: na_mod
2006-06-18 02:21 am (UTC)

Re: Ukitake Jyuushirou, take two

Hey there, accepted. Go ahead and make a journal and reply to this comment with it, then sign up to the community, friend everyone etc.

One note: In general we'd like journal entries to be a little more in depth. Three decent paragraphs tends to be around the average. Thanks!
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[User Picture]From: bl0nd_ambition
2006-06-18 12:28 am (UTC)

Kuukaku App Part 2~

Writing Sample:

Kuukaku was rather proud of her apartment's newest decoration. Two ceramic arms reached out of the window, smugly displaying a red sign with white letters that read SHIBA KUUKAKU LIVES HERE. It was only a matter of time before the landlord would come knocking though -- not to compliment her amazing decorations, but because she had put a hole in the roof the night before while testing out her newest firework.

"Shiba!" Her landlord was a hideous man who, if not for the fact she was missing an arm and played with gunpowder for a living, would probably would have hit on her. "I told you to get rid of those ridiculous—things hanging out of your window!! You're blocking a fire escape and it's ugly as hell! YOU ARE IN SO MUCH TROUBLE!!"

She grinned. So predictable. "Good, because you know I just love trouble." Air compression machines were too clean for Kuukaku, too safe, too boring. She loaded the firework with gunpowder instead. "If you don't like it don't fucking look at it you old perv."

Most display shells are generally detonated in the air using an electronic timer, but Kuukaku was of the mind that electronic timers were for pussies. Loading shells is a "delicate process" and is supposed to be done with caution. A loader must ensure not only the mortar is clean, but also make sure that no part of their body is directly over the mortar in case of a premature fire.

But really, what's the fun in that?

"I WANT YOU OUT IN THE NEXT TEN MINUTES OR I'M CALLING THE COPS!"

"Yes, yes." She finally opened the door. "A parting gift." She handed the bewildered man the firework, ran the match down her prosthetic arm, lit the tiny firework and shut the door behind her.

An ominous boom echoed down the hall.

"SHIBA!!!!"

After all, if she was going to go out, she might as well go out with a bang.


Journal Entry

In honor of 4th of July (the single most important day of the year for a pyrotechnic) I made my minion—I mean my little brother put up a very festive American flag in fluorescent lights outside of our fire escape. If all goes as planned, it will blink SHIBA KUUKAKU'S FLAG and sing patriotic songs until the next holiday. Urahara will either look the other way or he might get a kick out of it and encourage more decorations to piss off the neighbors; he's a bastard like that. If any of you have a problem with my inventiveness, you can come here and I will personally handle this issue. And when I say handle, I mean kick your ass until you forget what you came here for.

There's gotta be some delinquents in this building who want to set off fireworks on the 4th of July. Screw lame barbecues. If there aren't any I will be greatly disappointed with the lack of guts and balls of the people here! Kids these days, they have no sense of adventure!! What's the fun in watching fireworks from afar when you can see them from three feet away? Maybe I will give them a little preview and set off some of my amazing fireworks and show them how it's done. I think I'll send some through that kid Kurosaki's wall—he's a fun guy and will DEFINITELY throw a shit fit over it.

I love my job.
(Reply) (Thread)
[User Picture]From: na_mod
2006-06-18 02:27 am (UTC)

Re: Kuukaku App Part 2~

Accepted, with the proviso that you tone down the firework stunts to a realistic level. Please make your journal and reply to this comment with it, thenjoin up, friend people, get a room, etc.
(Reply) (Parent) (Thread)
[User Picture]From: pink_caduceus
2006-06-18 04:22 pm (UTC)
Writing Sample: The air in the small room in the basement of the local church was thick with something Shizune couldn't identify. Tension? Guilt? She failed to put her finger on it. Lingering at the doorway, she wondered if she was really here. How had this happened to her? All she ever wanted was to help people.

"Are you here for the meeting?"

Step four was to make a searching and fearless moral inventory of herself, and, in the end, she had come up short. Someone from the clinic had suggested AA. You can't even begin to help other people if you can't help yourself. She nodded and took a seat in the back, trying to keep her breath steady, her pulse from racing. It's not such a bad thing to ask for help, she told herself. A check mark added to step four, maybe. She wondered how many she needed before she could go on.

"Would anyone like to share how their week went?"

Today, she would only observe. Maybe next week she would work on step five – admitting the exact nature of her wrongs – but for now, this was okay. The was the beginning of something new, something good, something that could turn her life around. However accidentally she had fallen, it was time to dust herself off and get right back up.

She smiled. Step four -- obliterated.


Journal Entry:

Subject: Step One -- We admit we were powerless —that our lives had become unmanageable.


The job situation is becoming dire. While Tsunade is at work, I have nothing to do but sit in the apartment, staring at my computer, the walls, or the list of twelve steps displayed prominently on the refrigerator. I flipped through the want-ads yesterday and called three places – an office supply store, a pet shop and the perfume counter at the local department store. That last one will be a last resort – I am deathly allergic to any and all perfumes.

I had my interview at the pet shop this morning and it was pleasant enough. They offer pretty exotic animals – there was even a pig wandering around, if you can believe it – and the employees seemed very friendly. The office supply store was less attractive in terms of both atmosphere and work environment, but the rent needs to be paid. I'll take anything that's offered. They also offer an employee discount on office supplied, and, to be honest, I love office supplies.

Decisions, decisions.

With my history, it's going to be very difficult to get back into the medical field, but I think, in my free time, I'm going to start volunteering at the local hospital again. It will be my first step – taking the power back, doing what I want to do. However, I don't want to do too much too quickly, as I still need to hang around to make sure Tsunade keeps herself out of trouble. I think she takes delight in worrying me and she knows just the right buttons to push. It's nearly cruel!

She opened her home and her life to me, however, so I mostly suffer in silence. I really do owe her everything and it is a debt I will probably work my whole life to repay.

Time to work on step two: believe that a power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.

I wonder if chocolate ice cream counts.
(Reply) (Thread)
[User Picture]From: na_mod
2006-06-19 02:11 am (UTC)
Accepted. Make, join, friend, comment back here, etc.
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(Deleted comment)
[User Picture]From: na_mod
2006-06-20 01:19 am (UTC)

Re: Hitsugaya Toushirou Application: Part three (wouldn't fit D:), Journal entry

Hey, accepted - with a few revisions to Hitsugaya's history that you'll need to get on AIM and talk to us about (mostly how advanced he is, the rent issue). My aim is wasoncedelight - I think I missed you earlier? You can make a journal, but if you could wait until you've spoken to me before joining the communities, that would be awesome.

PB wise, the original Hitsugaya used a young Devon Sawa. Once you're signed up, asking for suggestions in the OOC can be a good way to go.
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From: bat_shit_crazy
2006-06-19 11:16 pm (UTC)

Wow.. I'm completely brainless

Ukon application.. not Sakon, and part two at that. Someone shoot me.

Writing Sample:

He must have caught lice again – his head simply would not stop itching; one hand seemingly fixated with digging grubby, uneven fingernails against his scalp, raking down from just past his right temple and lifting up where his hairline ended behind his ear to start the process anew. It wasn’t rewarding work by any means, the infuriating tingling sensation of *something* crawling across his flesh returning mere seconds later, regardless of whether or not the feeling was simply imagined or not.

Digging his hand hard enough to make the skin hurt along the trail his nails left, Ukon pulled the limb away to inspect what, if anything, might have been caught by his fingertips: dandruff and a bit of dirt, but nothing that indicated any kind of bug. Flicking his flingers together and wiping them offhanded upon the faded and patched cloth of his pants, he placed the slender appendage upon the hand-rail of the staircase, admiring briefly how smooth the wood was, worn to a silken polish (despite the faded color) by hundreds of hands traveling upon it.

In another time or place he might have been repulsed by the thought of who or what might have slide along the rail, but as it were, he was simply grateful the apparent sturdiness of the guide. The day had been long enough to cause his legs to ache despite his youth and being able to support himself upon something was a well received relief, especially since the distinctive squeak of each stair was making him rather doubtful of the apartment building’s relative safety.

But what could one expect at the price in which he paid for the rooms? A pair of boys that had been homeless for over a year now with a place to stay and with enough extra money to perhaps afford to stock the place with a few groceries – it couldn’t bode well for the quality of both structure and tenants.

Curling his tongue against the roof of his mouth, the teen peered out from behind his artlessly styled mop of dirty hair further along the staircase toward his brother; always several paces ahead it would seem, for the elder to continually follow his younger brother, a shadow that remained mute until it deigned the situation worthy of his attention. It was amusing to watch how the boy nearly bounced along the stairs, learned caution and excitement fighting for dominance in his attitude.

He mounted the last step for that particular landing, the second of which the pair had come across, meaning only two more flights of stairs remained to ascend before they reached the floor of their rooms. Shifting more of his weight against the rail, he leaned over it, peering upward, the minuscule bulk of the stolen duffle bag of the twin’s worldly belongings brushing against the wooden bars with the scratchy whine of cheap canvas. Ukon abhorred that sound – even before the pitiful thing had more or less become their sole bag…

Wrinkling his nose, he gazed at the remaining stairs, noting a strip of carpet peeling away from one of the steps with mild alarm – his brother was tramping upward still, after all.

“Sakon – you should wat–-“

The distinctive thud of a small body tripping forward, cut off the elder twin; his words simply left were they as they were, no need to finish his sentence, it was too late anyway.

Peeling himself away from the rail, he moved to go assist the boy in getting back to his feet – this time they would simply walk together, no need for one or the other to trip again.



Journal Entry:

Monday, June 11, 2006
Time.. a little past nine in evening.

After living a transient life for what, at the time, seemed to have been forever, it is an odd experience to come to a place and expect to make a home of it. There isn’t much as far as belongings go to really make it feel as though it belongs to us, a few tattered sets of clothing and a spare set of shared shoes – but nothing in terms of knickknacks or collectables. Everything else here, the furniture and vague attempts at bedding and cheap decoration were all leftovers of previous tenants or supplied by the landlord. Things that scream with the presence and personality of someone else.

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From: bat_shit_crazy
2006-06-19 11:17 pm (UTC)
Maybe with time it will feel as though we belong, but as it is, I am grateful for a roof that will remain permanent for at least a month.

It’s quiet here though, blessedly so, and warm. Stifling, really, but I don’t mind the heat – cool (or even lukewarm) water and an open window will suffice.

The shelter was always so noisy and no matter the season, bitterly cold. (Perhaps the cold reduced the smell of so many unwashed bodies?) The addicts and children would always wail, either due to the pain of withdrawal or hunger…or some other inexplicable reason. In any case, it seems absent here, though, in place of screams and general murmuring, the whirring of fans and soft sounds of music has taken hold. Audible, but not intrusive.

Is that David Bowie..?

Regardless, it seems Sakon has made himself comfortable, scribbling away at whatever it is he is writing – perhaps a job application. (Reminds me, I need to go and start picking up some..) That is one thing I am glad that I invested a bit of money into – paper and pencils.. Writing, even if it’s silly journal entries, help keep the mind sharp and focused off the unpleasantries of everyday life. Cheap entertainment and it allows him to continue to try and script musical scores even without an instrument.

It is disconcerting overlooking previous entries in my own stack of paper, reading over failed attempts at holding a job and various means of obtaining money…

I wonder where the other residents are employed..? There must be some kind of job market available if everyone is able to afford the rent here..
(Reply) (Thread)
[User Picture]From: na_mod
2006-06-20 01:50 am (UTC)
Accepted. Please make sure you've read the rules and the FAQ, and then join no_air and no_air_ooc.
(Reply) (Parent) (Thread)
[User Picture]From: too_late
2006-06-20 04:21 am (UTC)

I'm not a perv. I swear.

Writing Sample:

When the door bell jingled a couple of times, Risa looked up from her hentai, adjusting her glasses so she could get a good look at her customers. She had been interrupted by three wide-eyed boys who couldn't have been older than 15. Although she had worked at the shop for four years, watching first-timers was still her favorite thing to do.

Risa put her reading material down and gave them a little smirk, "What can I help you with today, boys?" When they didn't respond, she got up from her swivel chair behind the dildo and vibrator counter, walking up to them with her arms folded across her chest. Risa should have kicked the boys out by now because they were minors, but she was in a good mood today. She slid past the dumbfounded boys to the Playboy section and took the latest edition off the shelf, handing it to one of them.

"Is this what you were looking for?" she asked plainly, raising an eyebrow at them, "I'll be nice today and not card you." That's when Risa noticed their eyes. All three of them were undressing her with them, one with his eyes on the front of her shirt just below the uniform bow, one at the thigh exposed under her pleated skirt, and the other at the rest of her exposed legs. Risa liked to wear her old school uniform because she felt sexy in it, but she had just enough modesty not to let them gape at her in front of her face like dumbasses. "I take that back!" she growled, tearing the magazine out of their hands and shoving them towards the door, "Don't come back until you're mature enough to control your loins!"

When they still refused to budge from their stupor, she sighed and pulled up her already exposing skirt to reveal a set of small knives held together by a red, lacy garter belt. As soon as the door slammed behind them, Risa chuckled lightly to herself, shaking her head and returning to her hentai.


Journal Entry:

I don't pay for my journal, so we're going to do this the old-fashioned way - reply with comments to this post.

POLL: What is your favorite position?

I'd list some, but who knows what kinda freaky-deaky stuff you guys are into not that being freaky is a bad thing...

So yesterday I was watching my daily dose of porn and Hiyori freaked out. She started shrieking and throwing plastic bowls at me from the little corner we call the "dining room." She said she'd never watched "that crap" before, but that must have been a lie. I've been around people long enough to know that people who've never seen porn before are glued to the screen at first glance - only people who've seen porn before can recognize it as quickly as she did.

Anyway, when she realized that I had the ice cream bucket with me she tried walking over to the couch with a pillow over her face so she couldn't see the TV screen. I thought I'd have fun with it and walked around the couch on the other side so she couldn't see me. After walking around the couch 5 times she finally gave up and sat down with me to watch the last half of "My Big Fat Greek Cock." She says she didn't enjoy it, but I know better.
(Reply) (Thread)
[User Picture]From: na_mod
2006-06-20 02:48 pm (UTC)

Re: I'm not a perv. I swear.

Hey, we actually enjoy your Vaizard app more than the Tatsuki one. So, we'd like to accept, but we just want to make sure that Lisa becomes a fully developed, round character (which was originally why we shied away from Vaizard apps in the first place; they ran the risk of only being caricatures). So basically, we really want a lot of depth. Additionally, just make sure you're watching your tenses as you write--they seem to shift a bit here and there.

So, accepted. Create a journal and join no_air and no_air_ooc.
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(Screened comment)
[User Picture]From: na_mod
2006-06-24 04:59 am (UTC)

Re: Orochimaru, Take One

We'd definitely like to see the second half, when you get a chance.
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(Screened comment)
[User Picture]From: na_mod
2006-06-26 03:10 am (UTC)

Re: Gaara Application Part Two

Hey, thanks for applying, but not quite what we're looking for.
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(Screened comment)
[User Picture]From: na_mod
2006-06-26 03:11 am (UTC)
Not quite what we're looking for, but thanks for applying.
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(Screened comment)
[User Picture]From: na_mod
2006-06-24 05:28 pm (UTC)
Hey Mich-- I'm afraid we already have someone cast as Chizuru. :/

There are plenty of open characters from both the Bleach and Naruto 'verses, though. Hopefully someone else will catch your interest.
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[User Picture]From: britt
2006-06-25 08:01 am (UTC)

Application, Part Two

Writing Sample:
“Yo, Hisagi, you got closing duty tonight.”

Shit. “Yeah, got it.” Shuuhei absently wiped down the countertop as his boss shuffled out the door. Leaving an employee alone to close the bar probably wasn’t a good idea in this neighborhood, but the boss had long since ceased to care. He had a mistress to get to, anyway. Frowning to himself, Shuuhei leaned on his elbows and studied his reflection in the mirrored ceiling.

Had it really been that long? He narrowed his eyes as if it would help him see the scars more clearly, three narrow lines running from his hairline to his jaw. Most of the women who came in here and hit on him found them, along with the ‘69’ tattoo, somehow alluring, but Shuuhei couldn’t help but be reminded of what he had done to earn those scars.

No, there was nothing alluring about them. Instead, they were a reminder of what he had almost lost, of the road he had followed that had almost led to his own self-destruction. Those scars kept him sane.

“Hey, there, handsome,” a low, smooth voice said.

He looked down as a hand slid across the counter towards him. He stepped back, raising a brow at the woman sitting at the bar, her long brown hair and blood red lips silently promising a good time.

“Sorry, miss, we’re about to close,” he said impassively. They were all the same, looking for a good fuck, and Shuuhei was already tired of her type. Shit, when was the last time he’d gotten laid?

“You’re such a grump,” she teased, biting down on her bottom lip seductively.

“You got that right.” He reached for a glass and cleaned it out, if only to prove how busy he was. Too bad there was almost nobody else in the bar. Real fucking busy.

The woman scoffed and said flatly, “Fine. Just get me Bloody Mary.”

How appropriate. Eyeing the dirty clock over his shoulder, he counted twelve minutes until closing time and turned back forward. “Sorry, lady, but we’re closed.”

So they would close a little early tonight, like he gave a flying fuck. It wasn’t as if he was getting any tips from this broad, anyway.

She scoffed again and huffed out of the bar, the few other scattered patrons picking up on her lead and swerving out the door, save for one of the regulars. He was slumped over in his seat for Christ knows how many nights in a row, and Shuuhei resisted the urge to groan. Drunk off his ass. Again.

“Yo, Gar. Time to go, buddy.”

Silence. After making sure he was still breathing, Shuuhei heaved Gar over his shoulders and tossed him out the door so that he was sprawled on the sidewalk. He would most likely get pickpocketed in the time it took Shuuhei to close up, but he would survive. There was a hospital a few blocks away in the direction of Shuuhei’s apartment, so it wasn’t too out of his way to haul Gar over there before calling it a night.

He mopped the floors and wiped down the counters, stacking clean glasses next to the taps and finally switching off the lights.

Happy Anniversary, Shuuhei. Eight years of sobriety down the drain.

“Well, fuck, Gar. You really messed yourself up this time, man.”

Journal Entry:
This new apartment is something else. It’s always been hotter than hell in this town, but this complex is something along the lines of a boiler room. It doesn’t help that all the shit is broken, including the air conditioner. It’s almost a relief just to go outside.

I went out to the park after unpacking all of my crap, the one in the middle of the city where I used to spend the night when my parents blew out of town. At least there it’s easier to breathe and relatively quiet. I used to like that place a lot before, because it was dark at night and it was easy to dodge the cops, but now it’s kinda lost its value or whatever. Sure, it’s nice, I guess, but that’s pretty much it. Shit, it was just nice to get out of the apartment for a while before I headed to work. I swear, every place in this town is dark and broken down and cramped. This apartment, the bar, every other place in this whole goddamned city.

But the park is actually halfway alright.

Time for work.
(Reply) (Thread)
[User Picture]From: na_mod
2006-06-29 09:55 pm (UTC)

Re: Application, Part Two

Hi there!

Thanks for your application, we have had multiple applications for Shuuhei, and it's a really hard choice, so we were wondering if we could talk to you over AIM about the character, as we try to establish which fits better into Lysgar.

The mods can be reached at flyagainstfate or wasoncedelight on AIM, if this is ok.
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(Deleted comment)
[User Picture]From: na_mod
2006-06-29 09:57 pm (UTC)

Re: Sado Yasutora application pt2

Hi, thanks very much for your application. I'm afraid it's not quite what we're looking for for Chad.
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