» &you're like a little slice of heaven;;, again

[+thunder]

name matt
length of time on radio war i haven't been "active" for too too long, but i'm getting better.
current group dilettante
desired group i'd like to be conceited and say raconteur, but i'm really shooting for clarion.

writing sample one ooc=Yes, I'm aware this is the same piece I auditioned with. However, I would like it re-looked at with the knowledge that this exists, as I was told I lacked description. xD=

So what if taking ten bucks tip for a five dollar drink seemed a bit extreme? Cybele hadn’t seemed to mind; she hadn’t even noticed! Still, after a few more consecutive nights at his bar, Cybele’s bubbly personality had worn on J.J., and the two had even become friends. Between the two of them, there was her, a starving bartender looking to make ends meet, and him, a starving bartender barely able to pay the bills. It seemed as if the two were fated to be roommates, and they had soon made arrangements for J.J. to move into her apartment.

However, as J.J. approached the door to Cybele’s flat, his nerves began to take over. He wasn’t worried about being an annoyance, as he would sit around or sleep for most of the day, then get up and head to work over night. It would be a simple enough routine, and it wasn’t like he was a serious partier or anything. Still, he was worried about being a bother to the girl who had so graciously allowed him to room and split rent with her. He hoped these accommodations worked well; he had just cancelled his contract with his former apartment and had nowhere else to go. With luck, she’d like him enough to let him stick around for a while. J.J. didn’t like the idea of spending his days scrounging for a dry place to sleep in the “Rainy City.”

Gnawing anxiously at the silver ring around his index finger, J.J. set down the first load of his things. As a bartender, he didn’t exactly have an attic full of junk to move into Cybele’s apartment. In fact, all of his belongings managed to fit into three medium-sized boxes, which he had easily carried up to her door. However, his most precious possession was still waiting in the old, beat up Highlander in the parking lot. Pluto, his African Grey parrot, was waiting patiently in his cage for the bartender. No doubt the ornery bird would be getting worried by now.

J.J. was now faced with a problem. Should he go back now to get his beloved pet, or let Cybele know he was here? It hardly seemed polite to just leave three random boxes outside someone’s door, but Pluto was probably getting a quite anxious by now. The bird had never liked car rides, and somehow J.J. couldn’t see him enjoying himself in the back seat of the cramped vehicle.

Eventually, J.J.’s chivalry won out on him. His appearance worried him for a moment. Here he was, with boxes and in boxers, outside this girl’s door. Not to say he wasn’t “properly” dressed. He had on a pair of grey sweatpants and a sleeveless blue shirt with a faded Superman emblem emblazoned across his chest. He was also sporting his typical fauxhawk and eyebrow piercing. It probably wasn’t the most flattering or impressive of clothing that he could have worn, but he figured Cybele, as his roommate, would see him in worse states than his current one.

With his no-doubt agitated parrot hot on his mind, J.J. finally gathered up the courage to knock on the door. The three quick taps he delivered seemed harsh and cold to him, but to knock again would be the most hideous of discourtesies. Instead, he stood on the welcome mat, waiting to be welcomed in. A last-second spurt of nervousness set in as he heard the sharp footsteps approach the door. He fervently hoped that he had made a good decision in choosing to room with Cybele Shannon Quincey.


writing sample two ooc=And this is a plot for a Pokemon roleplay. xD Yes, Pokemon, mixed with some intense violence. Please keep in mind that it is written as a flashback, hence the italicized actions. Hopefully you'll enjoy.=

A small bleep alerted all the people scattered around the island to a handheld device attached to their packs. As each picked it up, the screen flickered to life, showing a shadowy figure sitting in a high-backed, velvet chair. Nothing apart from two crystalline eyes could be seen through the murkiness.

“Hello, hello, hello!” The man’s voice was harsh and cold. “How good of you all to come. Well, you didn’t have a choice, but I appreciate it nonetheless.” The man giggled, placing a pale hand across a hidden mouth. Golden rings glinted off the light of the camera. After a moment, the man continued.

“Let’s get down to business. You are all here to play a little game for my enjoyment. Oh, wait a moment. Who am I? That’s right, how rude of me. Well, there are plenty of rumors as to who I truly am. Some say I am the one who offed Giovanni. Others think I am the leader who disbanded Team Galactic. And yet others insist that I am your lovely champion, Ash Ketchum.” All of these were plausible guesses. The infamous leader of Team Rocket had been found dead in a suburban parking lot a few months earlier, around the same time that the space-obsessed gang had ceased to exist. Ash, after twenty years of Pokemon training, had finally mastered the Indigo Plateau, where he currently reigned as champion.

“I will neither confirm nor deny any of these rumors. I will, however, tell you this. I am the proud owner of two absolutely delightful and lovely Houndooms, Thade and Tysdroe.” At this, two Pokemon stalked forward from the shadows and took a spot on either side of the man’s chair. One was bulky and awkward, with rotting teeth and fire in its eyes. Tufts of hair stood out at random intervals along its heavily muscled body, and the rest of its fur was matted and dirty. Its skin was nearly bursting, trying to contain the muscles underneath, but its bulk seemed clumsy and uncoordinated, as if the dog had no control over its movement. One of the dog’s horns had grown in an uneven spiral, and threatened to blind one of the fiery eyes. As it lumbered towards the chair, it let out a low, ominous growl. The man laid a hand on the monstrous beast as “Thade” was announced.

The second Houndoom stood in stark contrast to its companion. Sleek and lithe, Tysdroe’s body appeared to flow with an ethereal grace. Its fur was smooth and shiny, and its horns were in perfect symmetry. Finely tuned muscles could only bee seen under close scrutiny, but there was an air of strength and passion around this dog. The one thing that detracted from its beauty, however, was the iciness in its eyes. Where warmth and loving should have been, there was a frigid cruelty. As its name was called, it pulled back its lips to reveal perfectly white teeth in a twisted, almost happy smile.

The man’s voice crackled back over the minute speakers on the devices. “As you can obviously see, I love my… friends. However, enough about them, enough about me! Let’s move onto what you are more anxious about: yourselves. As I said, you are here to play a little game for me.” He paused to insert giggle. “It’s quite simple, really. There are twenty of you scattered throughout this island of mine. The trick is that only one of you will get off. How to become that one? Well, use your imagination. I assume you have all found the pack that was provided to you. Inside this, you will find a number of things. First and most importantly, you will find provisions to last you a while. Trust me, by the end of this game you’ll be in want for food. Secondly, you will find a Pokéball. You also have been given a weapon to compliment your Pokemon, as well as a list of its moves. Some of you might find some… other amenities to aid you.

“Now, let’s discuss the rules. Win. That is all there is to it. I’ve supplied the means for you to do so, so do so. Oh, don’t try to get off the island. The waters around here are famous for sucking full ships under their currents, plus they are inhabited by Sharpedos and Gyrados, all willing to take you as a midmorning snack. On the island, however, you’ll find more peaceful Pokemon, such as Magikarp, bird Pokemon, and insects. Feel free to kill and eat those, if you are so predisposed.

“If no one dies quickly, I’ll see to it that someone does. How? Well, I’ve got a nice little panel of buttons here,” He paused and lifted up a handheld remote control with buttons arranged in an orderly pattern, “with each of you on it. While you were on your way here, you were each given an injection. Somewhere in each of your bloodstreams, there is a small capsule. If I push your button, it releases a highly concentrated amount of Seviper poison. You’ll be dead within the hour. So, for your own sake, kill.

“Other than that, I really don’t care what you do. Team up, go solo, jump off a cliff. It’s all up to you. This is a game, after all. You decide how you play it. Oh, and remember this one last thing: have fun.”

With an eerie hiss, the screens flickered to black.

[+Secret Skin]

OOPS!

Please don't post off-site links here, please.
(Also, that link doesn't work for those who do not have an account to begin with.)

[+thunder]

... OH. xD So sorry. I'll go post up a board in characters here; it's a link to the character's profile.

edit;; there we go; that should be better. so sorry!

[+fine young cannibals]

hey matt! thanks for taking the time to submit a reaudition. after carefully examining both pieces you have supplied us with, i can say you have successfully been promoted to clarion!

if i were to judge you solely on the first piece, i would have said you still belonged in dilettante. i know it's difficult to fully dismantle and rebuild a piece without completely ruining its original intent, so i'm willing to say the reason nothing particularly jumped out at me was because it was what you supplied us with for your audition.

however, i really liked your second piece, and not just because of the subject matter (which is so awesome oh man.) you managed to build a personality on an enigma, which few manage to do so gracefully. the bulk of it is dialogue, but taking the description from the first example and the character development from the second i can say that you do belong in clarion. (:

keep practicing, though! there are a few things, like awkward sentences and a problem with flow that you can always still work on.

CONGRATULATIONS ON MOVING ON UP!
- radio war staff