REVISED APPLICATION SAMPLES / REACTION TO LOST MEMORIES.

[evilhandissues]

LINDSEY'S REACTION TO LOST MEMORIES

It's a bad way to make a good impression on a game, but now that I finally think I have a direction for Lindsey to go I know that I can keep him active in the game. Personally I wasn't used to the quality of writing or building up CR like this, but I'm giving it a go.

Lindsey for his part will mostly be annoyed but shrug it off. Initial reactions to the place will be replaced by confusion that he was here first. He might chose an individual to confide in about the place, probing them for information to see if it's a Wolfram and Hart trick but then he'll do his best to submerge himself until an event comes along that will spark his desire for power again.

From there it's a simple jump to him making a jack - ass of himself. The problem with playing Lindsey is that he never doesn't want power, it's too ingrained in him, like a sickness. The thing is that he needs to acclimate to himself again. This will be easier if he confronted his mirror - since at Lindsey's canon point he's in season 2, and the idea is "What if he didn't leave the firm?"

So his mirror is dark and grim and absolutely evil and obsessed with power, Patrick Bateman though considerably less attractive. (His journal can be found over at specialprojects.

FIRST PERSON

[Lindsey has a number of books spread out in front of him, thick ones, long glossy tomes. There's not a lot left to do but read books at this point. He's got a beer though. So his eyes are slightly glassed over.]

When I was in college, there was this book club I tried to join. I didn't get in on it. They doubled their damn hours and required meetings and lied about the first book they were reading.

[They had done nothing of the sort. He had simply tried to control and domineer them all. Still he sounds...regretful to say the least. Sipping his beer he stares at the book in his hands - flashing the title toward the screen. The picture of Dorian Gray.]

When I was a kid. Books...were an escape. Nobody in my family would read. Their idea of fun was arguing over basic cable. Books...

Books were a lot like Dorian's quest for pleasure. All the things he does. In a way he uses it to lord over others how much better he is. It's a slap in the face for those who say it can't be done.

That's not to say I approve of what the guy's doing in this. [Does he agree with it? would he do the same? Lindsey's fingers pour along the pages for a moment before his hand clenches into a fist and he grinds his teeth together.]

I want to start a damn book club.


THIRD PERSON

Post a daemon event. Where a character has a physical manifestation of their soul.

For the past two days he'd woken up with a hand on the other side of the covers or curled around an animal that was no longer there. Out of everything that had happened to him - turning him into a robot, dying, all of that. Sanskrit was a comforting bundle that made him think of bandit - the dog that he'd had as a child. It's my lot to live with isolation. He was used to it.

He'd lost Bandit when he was seven years old, a big black dog who had meant to be a part of the family but instead had bonded to Lindsey heart and soul. Losing Sanskrit was like leaving Bandit behind on the farm, watching the creature bark in the dust and the wind. It filled him with a sense of loss and longing.

But all the same she's still with you. You still have a soul Lindsey. Was it the same of having an actual object, something to confirm it? He'd never had a firm fit, reassurances. His throat constricts, curled in blankets and suddenly missing tangible confirmation that he was human.

Because that's it isn't it. It's not about being alive, it's about being human. Something that acknowledges it and lets you know just what you are. He drifted without an anchor.

He sat up, moving to wash - soaking long in the hot and warm of his tub. He wondered why his eyes ached amid the warm rain on his features. I miss her.

He hadn't missed anything before.

He wiped a hand through his hair and shivered despite the warm water. He stepped out of the tub to dry off and walked back to his bed naked. I could fill the time by being social, going out, meeting people, finding a job to make his life more fulfilling. Alternatively...

Alternatively he could make them all constantly tell him that.

He flirted with both ideas until he grew tired, throwing on a t-shirt and jeans. Either way I have to be social he opened the door.

"...Even if you're always alone."

He shut the door on his words and left to explore the rest of wonderland.