Nov. 22nd, 2008


Nov. 22nd, 2008 12:31 am
hallefuckinlujah: (Default)
Character Name: General Cross Marian
Canon: D. Gray-Man
Character Age: Unknown, late-twenties.
Job: Responsibility Counselor

Canon: At the end of an alternate universe 19th century, there exists a Millennium Earl, who exploits human tragedy and turns souls into living weapons called Akuma. To fight him, the Pope has a personal army called the Black Order. Their headquarters are populated by mad scientists, inspectors with delicious cake, and the exorcists: apostles of God who Lay The Mercy Smackdown On Those Poor Sons Of Bitches. These exorcists, especially our hero Allen Walker, have to learn their history and techniques from someone. That's where General Cross comes in.

Cross is a terrifying asshole badass with such horrible behavior that most of the Order hates dealing with him. That Man Who Knows Everything, he mysteriously disappeared for years, leaving the Order to whisper about his possible death or his more possible dropping his mission to shack up with hookers. Cross is a traveling hobo at heart, if a hobo had extremely expensive taste and liked his clothes - and his people - clean and beautiful. Almost every trauma Allen has is from being his apprentice. He lives with lovers and friends, drinks, gambles, accumulates horrendous debt, and teaches his student things like cheating at gambling to pay off said debt. Armed with a gun and a chained-up coffin where he keeps Maria, his personal sexy animated exorcist corpse, Cross is a force to be reckoned with. He's a scientist, a sorcerer, an incredible exorcist, respected as much as he is feared, and working with all he's got - including forbidden magic and even Akuma - to bring down the Earl.

But he also never checks in with his job, probably uses exorcist powers to hide from debtors, puts his feet on the Vatican's table, and loves the ladies so much that all it takes to end years of being unable to find him is a cute girl's personal request.

Sample Post:

Looks like Elizabeth finally caught me. I thought I'd try disappearing again, but if she asks me with that face of hers to stick around, who am I to refuse? Guess it was too much to hope that the Sayres had enough on their plate with the Debusseys to remember a little debt - but they always took good care of their records, didn't they? I was wondering what she was doing anyway, still meddling around here.

Though I thought I told my idiot apprentice to take care of the debt with the Sayres. That'll teach me to expect that filthy runt to do anything right. It's not that I mind the operation, I'm not so judgmental - but this place is so damn dirty. You, get the hell away from me. You're not nearly beautiful enough. Ah, but miss, I can forgive a few smudges on you. It looks like Maria can make a few little corpse girlfriends here, eh?

Well, it's a pain in the ass, but I'll be the responsibility counselor for you brats. When I was given the job I thought, who do you think you're looking at? But one way or another, it looks like I'll be putting my feet up here. Fine. So I've set up some responsibilities for you snot-nosed punks to take care of. I need someone to do my laundry (pressed and folded), keep my bath hot, cook my meals to order, pour me proper wine, feed Timcampi, feed Allen, and deal with anyone who comes after me. You won't have a problem with it, right? If you're not here to report in, then go away.

Of course, I can spare some personal lessons for the fine girls of this camp on propriety. You have a responsibility as young ladies to make sure you keep growing up strong and attractive, after all. Ugly boys can just open your ears now, because I'll only say it once, and keep your damn distance while you're at it: there's nothing I can do for you. Your role in this camp is to be slower than the beautiful people so you get caught by those fat annoying gorillas first. Deal with it. If you fail at this simple task, and a filthy paw ever bothers the fine women of this place - or if a slimy tentacle ever sullies them by sneaking itself somewhere only well-tailored gloves should touch... well, the responsible thing to do is clear, eh? As your counselor I'll lay to rest their filthy souls with the bullets of Judgment, and they shall repent forever and ever, Amen.

In the meantime, you'll have a drink with me, won't you? Sixteen is far too old to have never tasted decent wine. It's way too hard to smuggle decent valuables across borders these days, so let's enjoy it while it lasts.

((App went up here %100 HOLY SHIT))


hallefuckinlujah: (Default)
Cross Marian

March 2009

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