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 Posted: Wed Mar 05, 2014 8:23 pm
Character name:
Mortimer James McNeal (Mortimer Grimsby once his mother’s marriage goes through)
Link to journal AND/OR Quest Thread:
Describe your character's personality in less than 30 words:
Video game loving nerd zombie with an Insanity affliction and a mad scientist’s aspirations
Does your character have a ship/ OTP?
Belladonna and her lovely ladies command his attention forever~ (aka Bellamorte Ship)
Describe your character if they were a vegetable:
Why eat vegetables when you can eat brains instead
What is your character's favourite music/ song/ piece?
Mort usually just hits random on his huge playlist of dubstep, electronica, and video game OSTs when working or level grinding something. Bells has slowly been introducing him to other genres.
What is your character's hobby, if they had spare time?
Tweaking an invention, creating a new one, or playing video games usually, sometimes reading. There’s a lot of spare time when you don’t need to sleep!
Is your character more arts, science, or sports inclined?
Scieeeence. His battle game is weak.
What type of personality traits does your character gravitate towards?
Happier, more excitable ones usually, but it doesn’t matter too too much to him since he’s pretty chill himself. Not that he goes out much . . .
What are your character's personality traits (Good ones?)
Hard working
Supportive/Loyal
Ingenuitive
Relaxed/Level headed
Has a few heroic/old fashioned ideals (most especially treating ghouls exceptionally well)
Patient
All around good-natured sort of guy
What are your character's personality flaws?
Slow to act
Messy
Overprotective
Scatter-brained
Socially awkward and wary of new people (has a noticeable speech impediment, though he’s mostly worked around it)
The worst in battle
Tends to have a herd mentality and follows others even if it’s questionable
What is your character's favourite colour?
Describe your character if they were in the opposite faction:
He’d be a Famine alchemist who’d blow himself up every other week in pursuit of some new concoction.
What would your character look like as the opposite gender OR 10 years into the future?
Ten years from now he’d look about the same, possibly with longer hair and definitely with more scruff, hopefully loosened up and more openly amicable, and happily married to Belladonna.
He’s already experienced life as a bony, flat-chested ghoul and isn’t keen on returning to it. Though it was nice getting saved by a male Eris . . .
If your character was an Amityville Professor/ Division Leader/ Horsemen Clans lead how would they teach others?
Mort would be that one mousey teacher who is obviously passionate about their field but has a hard time communicating clearly what he wants to get across due to his speech impediment. He’d probably prefer teaching through hands on experiments rather than lecturing and in his excitement try to get involved with individual students’ labwork.
Who does your character look up to?
Hard to say, though he admires how Red handles her Insanity and hopes to be able to be just as cool about it. His role models tend to be figures in various media, things he never really discarded from his time as a scareling. He always looks up to his mother, though, despite her overbearing nature.
What is a great weakness of your character?
Aside from fire (which he’s gotten better about), Mort dislikes water and is a failure of a swimmer. He believes it’s because water and his Fear’s natural inclination towards electricity don’t mix, but in actuality it’s an unconscious/unknown fear brought about by drowning as a human child. He's also crippled with a fear of never amounting to anything, which usually leads to periods of him escaping into his games to cope.
What are their favourite foods?
Brains and all other related meat products!
Favourite fashion style?
Layers. Lots and lots of layers. Hoodies and jeans have been his go-to for a while, though his ghoulfriend is trying to broaden his closet selection.
Favourite minipet?
He’s not great with minipets, but his most treasured is Lancelot, the zquirrel Bells gave to him--even if he does drool a lot.
If your character was in a fantasy novel who would they be?
The typical knight errant, albeit a more bumbling one
Describe your character as a mythical creature:
Mort would want to be something super duper cool—like eidolon/aeon/summon monster status cool—but he’s not entirely sure of specifics.
Describe your character as a Disney princess and/ or Villain:
Milo Thatch isn’t either of these, but he’s the closest one in personality/goals! Otheriwse, he’d probably be a henchman to the villain who eventually sides with the good guys after learning that Evil Is Not The Way.
If your character could travel anywhere where would they go?
Jumpin’ Jack, he wouldn’t know. He’s only ever occupied a small corner of Halloween Town, aside from field trips. He’d probably leave that decision to someone else and hop along for the ride.
If your character could confess one great secret what would they confess?
Mort has a few: He wants a large family of his own but is deathly afraid of being a father, seeing as he’s never had a good father figure. He also deeply misses his time as the King of Creation, believing that the outgoing and gregarious personality in that alternate world outshines him in the real one by a mile.
On a deeper, never-will-reveal-even-at-deathbed level, he takes a little solace from the whispers in his head because at least he’s never alone, even though they drive him up the wall sometimes.
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medigel rolled 5 100-sided dice:
81, 34, 12, 79, 49
Total: 255 (5-500)
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Posted: Wed Mar 05, 2014 8:26 pm
81. Apathy
34. Escape
12. Defeat
79. Love
49. Rival
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Posted: Thu Mar 06, 2014 8:34 pm
☠xxx ᴀ ᴘ ᴀ ᴛ ʜ ʏThere were good days, and there were bad days, and then there were days he did not want to get out of his chair. He was lucky if those were the days where Belladonna was busy; they spent enough time in each others' rooms that it was hard to get time alone past the evening hours, when the empty feeling felt its strongest.
He didn't used to worry about it: at best, the only thing that could keep him so rooted to the spot would be rigor mortis or a very intense boss fight in the past. The whispers in his head, however, sometimes became too taxing to deal with. For all his laid back attitude, they were a constant drain of energy to handle--sometimes only a trickle, sometimes a whole waterfall.
Mort did not know how the others had cured their Insanity, nor did he understand how the infected among the Horsemen handled it; he was honestly afraid to ask, afriad to compare himself on the one topic he felt most vulnerable about. Maybe it was just a measure of character thing. It was a lot better than it had been in its initial stages, sure, but if he accidentally took a look in the mirror (which was a very easy mistake to do on the nights he stayed over at the witch's) and saw the gray streaks down his face and in his hair, or the now stained blue eye, it was too easy to fall back into his old pit of despair about the whole thing.
That too had grown tiring, though. There was only so much worrying one could do after a year and a half. Now he was trying something new: not caring at all. He liked to think it mildly pissed off the otherwise rather attention-whorey whispering; after all, infected or not he still had an unlife to attend to. Graduation was almost upon him, and he had a happy future to look forward to, Mom's impending marriage aside. Gregory was almost finished schooling as well, after taking almost twice the length of time it took most students to finish, and that was better than their anticipations for the poor boil had been. There were still plenty of things to do after school: new inventions, new people to meet, a new place to call his own, jobs to pursue, more exciting misdaventures to stumble across.
This was what he told himself as he stared listlessly at his laptop, the entire interweb at his fingertips and not a muscle ready to move.
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Posted: Thu Mar 06, 2014 8:55 pm
☠xxx ᴇ s ᴄ ᴀ ᴘ ᴇHomework could wait.
[ press start to begin ]
Especially that report he needed to hand in by the weekend.
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Posted: Thu Mar 06, 2014 9:01 pm
☠xxx ᴅ ᴇ ғ ᴇ ᴀ ᴛHis tenth time speed running the game's story mode completed precisely 22 hours, 17 minutes later, and 42 seconds later, he checked the time, cursed, and asked himself why did he do that again.
(For fun, of course. He needed more fun in his life. Beating his old record fun.)
Time to take an old report and tweak it for a new professor.
This was ordained the perfect time for his laptop to hiccup; the old thing had been on the whole time he had been playing, accidentally.
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Posted: Fri Mar 07, 2014 10:53 pm
☠xxx ʟ ᴏ ᴠ ᴇHe had to sneak in quietly after the graveyard shift; thankfully, he was a naturally slow mover.
The door clicked behind him quietly, his coat sliding off with barely a rustle, his sneakers toed off like they were slippers. The first half was quiet easy at this point: it was the second half that gave him trouble.
Her bed was a sheet and pillow-filled nightmare, and he cringed with every pop of his joints of hiss of his legs accidentally dragging on the material. Mort liked thinking of it was a stealth level, which somewhat helped; the only problem was, his ghoulfriend didn't have a bar above her head telling him if he'd failed the mission or not.
Halfway under the sheets he realized she'd left a cup of cold tea out for him, and he reached out and gingerly picked it up like it was fine china. Under the sheets the zomboil went, tennisballing his gaze between the cup lest it tilt and his ghoulfriend, who looked like she was deep in pleasant dreams. Or he hoped she was.
Settled in, he carefully stretched his legs out and laid against his pillows, sighing in relief. Mission accomplished. Gold Star. S rank for Mort at last.
He was just beginning to congratulate himself and tilting back the cup to sip when he felt her shift. Belladonna mumbled something he barely caught as she stirred herself a quarter awake. An arm curled around her as she all but crept over to drape herself across him. He could imagine the blaring alarm of the enemy base uncovering his position, the exclamation marks cropping up like so many lightbulbs above their heads.
This was the best sort of failure.
"Is good tea s'usual," he greeted her in a whisper, stroking her hair. "D'ja stay up again?"
She mumbled something incoherently against his chest and tickled him with her breath, nestling her head to use him as a pillow.
"Mrrrr, silly witch~ Get some sleep, mkay? Will be here in the morning t'tell you 'bout . . ." He trailed away, noticing that Bells didn't really need prompting: she was slumping against him in seconds, her arms loosely curled around him and a hint of a smile hiding behind her red curls.
She took an unprecedented amount of solace in the silence where a heartbeat normally laid--or so he liked to think.
"Night, starlight," Mort said with a tired smile as he leaned further back into the pillows, accidentally sloshing a little tea on the sheets. s**t. He quickly began to guzzle the rest down before he could make more mistakes, grateful that he had many years ahead to practice.
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Posted: Fri Mar 07, 2014 11:11 pm
☠xxx ʀ ɪ ᴠ ᴀ ʟHe did not like competition outside of video games. A rival in his games meant plot points, objectives, things to crush because he actually had the power to do so: overlevelling, proper consultation of the strategy guide, grabbing the right equipment, everything was easy to prep for and even easier to complete because there were steps.
There were none in the real world. He came to the sign up sheet with nothing but his mother's encouraging words: "If you don't have something to put to your name before you leave Amity, what will you show any future job interviewers?"
Mort gulped and scanned the list: all familiar names, a few of them surprising. It encouraged him that there were other undead trying out, especially his bro Alex . . . But he wouldn't dare go against him, nor Amrita, nor Aymet. And he was really no good with money . . .
Tentatively, he filled the first blank under Secretary and left before he had the mind to scratch it out. Mort was certain he wouldn't make it at any rate, but he could tell his mother he had tried and not be lying.
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