juncture application

[wholeman]

▲ OUT OF CHARACTER INFORMATION

Name: China

Username: beachland

Current characters in Juncture: None

▲ IN-CHARACTER INFORMATION

Character Name: Tyrion Lannister

Username: wholeman

Original Character, Canon, or Alternate Universe: Tyrion will leave off toward the end of A Game of Thrones television canon, season 3 episode 5-- he's been a little maimed, stripped of his title as Hand of the King, given a fresh, heavily skills-specific position he had to learn overnight, loves a whore, and told to marry a sweet girl who loathes him.

Played By: Peter Dinklage

Concept: Beleaguered ex-politician and scholar digs money and whores!

Physical Description: Tyrion is a dwarf in his late thirties, standing a shade under 4 and a half feet tall and topped with sandy hair; he has fairly youthful-looking features and a strong jaw. Notably, he sports a scar down the middle of his face, bridging his nose.

History: Up thru the middle of season 3, or the television interpretation of a Clash of Kings.

World: A Song of Ice and Fire takes place in a world of intense feudal politics, medieval technology, and relatively low magic; stronger instances of sorcery commonly associated with religion and a rare, powerful minority. Natural disaster also plays a keen role, insofar as that the world is designed to experience irregular seasons that may last a handful of years to decades-- and characterized by monstrous supernatural predators.

Talents/Abilities: Military tactics 8, Reading/Research 10, Sassy Gestures and Words 8, Horseback Riding 5, Brawling 6, Politics 7, Overall/Full Scale Intelligence 7, Lateral Thinking 9

Personality: Tyrion is am intelligent dude with a terrifying family led by a patriarch who blames him for having been born deformed, and for killing his mother in the process of birth. He has been told in various ways at various points of his life that he is a worthless disappointment, and that his only utility is his blood. Tyrion should have a crushing inferiority complex. Instead, he has a relative little (ha) one, counter-balanced by a genuinely-- if shrewdly good heart, real interest in other people, and confidence in his intellect. Drinking and hiring prostitutes are his balm. They have little doubt been necessary to cope, but may also pose an impediment to real achievement.

Sexuality: Tyrion is pronouncedly heterosexual; he may occasionally be attracted to men who are more effeminate-looking and specifically beautiful, and could be progressive in that way. However, in general, he loves female bodies and is fairly flexible about looks where women are concerned.

Reason for playing: I picked Tyrion because he's adaptive, flexible, and proactive, and can say funny and insightful things. Also he has some baggage to unpack, and will have entertainingly mixed feelings about whether he wants to leave. Short-term, I'd like him to make sardonic commentary about finding a job and establishing terms for baseline survival, possibly getting drunk and barfing his life's story on someone. Long-term, I'd like to see him make friends he genuinely care about, enjoying his break from feudal society and the loneliness engendered therein, unpack family/childhood problems, and achieve things that help others despite that he is A DWARF. Action-adventure, talky stuff, and problem-solving sound fun.

Object: Honestly I have no idea. I generally find weapons entertaining but would be interested also in an information-gathering tool, such as psychometry, retrocognition, Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxey, etc.

▲ WRITING SAMPLES

1.

The beer glass is large enough that Tyrion has to balance it with two hands, especially given the full weight of beer inside. It smells wonderful. He would admit to being a little excited, if he had anybody to admit it too; the diner seems all but deserted. He makes his way to the nearest table, carefully, carefully, lifts the glass to settle weightily on top of the linoleum surface. No matter what unlikely world you find yourself in, some things stay the same.

Hops, for example. Tyrion pulls himself up into the chair, settles neatly. His tiny leather boots are an anachronism, swinging half a foot above the checkered tile of the floor. He takes a long breath, and looks out the window at the lights, the street and its peculiarly austere building facades, the far sky. Nothing here looks like home. He was sorry about that forty-three minutes ago, but he feels different now; almost wishes he could account for that entirely by alcohol vapor going up his nose, but Tyrion understands himself and the state he left Westeros in well enough to know that the truth must lie elsewhere. It is quiet here. He has no way of knowing if this, too, is the prelude to some storm, assassins at his door or fresh humiliation at the hands of other powers, but.

Maybe it's nice to know; to be convinced, however temporarily, that he's found some respite. He smiles a little, and takes a drink of his beer.

2.

Tyrion is drunk.

In the grand scheme of things, or scaled against his previous drinking experience, he is not very drunk; but he should probably know better, in an unfamiliar place, without bodyguards (it doesn't actually occur to him to think about friends). He chortles, walks up against the corner of a building. Sets a tiny hand against it, and works his pants open with the other. In a moment, he's sending a stream of hot urine against the wood. He exudes a sigh of relief, and then squints when the noise of its passage (and the urine's passage) is dubbed over with a faint but another faint but distinct audio track.

What. He twists his head around to look; finds himself eye-to-eye, if not actually level, with some sort of a beast. It's missing hair from one shoulder and has a snub face and a thin tail, more like a cat than any sort of dog he had ever seen bred in Westeros, but he's never heard a cat rumble like that. Nor, you know, let fly ropes of white froth from its bottom lip. "Ah," he says. "Easy." Tyrion is careful to regulate his breathing, and to tell himself to be afraid, but it is lacking a certain visceral quality. The dwarf makes sure to put his penis away quite quickly, but trying not to make any-- sudden-- movements.

Twelve seconds later, the alley erupts into snarls. Tyrion is hot-footing it down the street, moving his boots as fast as he can.

▲ TICKY BOXES

Are you over the age of eighteen? X

Are you aware of the skillcheck system and comfortable with the fact that while your character cannot die without your express permission, they may get into some serious trouble? X

Are you ready to rumble? X