![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
undereducatedplayer.
NAME/HANDLE: Maus
PERSONAL JOURNAL:ronsencock
ARE YOU 16 OR OVER?: Yessum. 26.
CONTACT: email: rroy87@outlook.com | plurk: ronsencock
OTHER CHARACTERS: N/A
character.
CHARACTER NAME: Burke
SERIES: Jonah Hex
Have his wiki for a good giggle. Yeah nothing on him.
He's a minor character and has little screen time or history, but this is what we know of him: He's an Irishman who works for Quentin Turnbull, a man intent on fucking up America with a power weapon, a 'nation killer'. He does Quentin's dirty work, getting the things he needs to set his plan in motion, like stopping a train by blowing up the front cars of it and killing countless innocents and militiamen. Or keeping Jonah Hex from attacking Quentin in his own base, wounding Hex greatly and chasing him off. And then he kidnaps Lilah to put Hex at a disadvantage against his boss, in an attempt to disarm him and keep him out of the way for Quentin's plans to finally come to fruition.
He also has bad history with Jonah Hex, as he burned his wife and child alive at the orders of Quentin Turnbull, after Hex betrayed his boss for a good cause, but ultimately got the other man's son killed in the process. Hence why he had Burke take the lives of Hex's family. Then held Hex still while Quentin branded him on the side of his face, marking him for the rest of his life.
Ultimately in a stand off against Hex to stop him from ruining their plans, Burke does end up losing. Head sliced open against boat propeller blades he's tossed to the ground before Hex decides it's not enough and uses his powers to talk to the dead to 'bring him back' so he can then doubly kill him, turning him to nothing but a pile of ash.
CANON POINT: After his death.
AGE: 36
APPEARANCE: Here you go. One tattooed crazy Irishman.
PERSONALITY:
Burke is first and foremost a man for himself. While he might seem like a loyal lapdog doing as his master says, he only does so because it suits him. Suits him because what he's told to do involves something he enjoys, something he likes, something that thrills and excites him. For the most part, unabashed violence with a smile on his face. The only reason he stays with Quentin Turnbull for the time he does and works as his right hand man is because of the freedom he has to do as he pleases. Quentin doesn't expect much out of him, just for Burke to do all of his dirty work, which he is of course more than happy to do, since this is typically something involving the slaughter of people in his boss' way.
Pain doesn't frighten him, nor does death, he leaps into a fight with all the intent to come out on top. And even when he knows he's out matched he'll just laugh it off and take the beating any way. Pain excites him, causing pain to others excites him. It drives him. He has no qualms in hurting anyone, child, woman, innocent or not. He's burned a woman and child alive and blown up a train of innocent people, laughed it off and seemed more the merrier for it.
He can go from a smiling charmer to balls to the walls crazy in mere seconds, maniacal cackle and all. Yet he does have a clam bone in his body, calm in meaning he isn't brandishing a weapon in someone's face. He usually has to be moving, doing something, whistling, singing a little tune or humming, or keeping his hands busy with something. A drink, his hat, a smoke. Something. He's almost jittery in his need to be doing something. He's like an eager dog, an eager dog that can't wait for someone to spook out a rabbit to chase down and slaughter.
Burke doesn't make friends, he finds amusement in people or something about them has to be worth his attention. Enemies he can make, easily, at the drop of a hat, but 'friends' those are more like with his relationship with his boss. If they suit his needs then he'll play friendly, get what he wants from them, his source of entertainment. He wouldn't think twice about going against anyone if it meant something better for himself.
Basically he is a born and bred psychopath in most definitions of the word.
ABILITIES: He's capable with firearms, melee and knives. If not able to adapt to use whatever is around him to fight if he has to. It does help that pain doesn't seem to faze him as it would a normal person, he registers it, but it only seems to make him more vicious or crazy when it comes to fighting. Pain still hurts him, but he seems to like it more than not.
POSSESSIONS:
One long sleeved bluish gray shirt.
Suspenders.
Dark brown pants with lighter colored vertical stripes on them.
Shoes.
His awesome bowler hat. Oh wait not really :(
samples.
JOURNAL ENTRY SAMPLE:
[Video]
[A certain still fairly newcomer to the ship has been looking around. It's been a few days and he's getting to know the place better, his new home away from death. Though people here would have him believe this place is worse than that. How silly of them. This place was new and exciting, plenty of people to bother, to harass, to be entertained by. The possibilities on this ship were endless for Burke.
But that's neither here nor there. Right now he's in one of the bathrooms. The women's if one might be able to tell the difference, he can't. He's not used to such modern facilities and there are no doors to tell him otherwise which one he should go in. Playing with the faucets to see what they did amused him for sometime. Flowing water that he could control so easily, how neat! It was rather clean too, at least for him and the time he'd come from. A little cloudy wasn't so bad, better than most water he was used to. The toilets are next on his list of things to touch, flushing them and watching the water spin down and away and then refilling... how very interesting! A grown man shouldn't be so entertained by such things!
When the video feed does actually turn on though he's got a small pile of things he's collected from the vending machines, notable things ladies would use but they're boring anyway once he's got them out of the wrapper. The other things though, it takes him a bit to read and understand the words on them. He can read, just not very well. He's a bit slow at it, teaching him to read and write his numbers and letters hadn't been on the top of his parents's to do list when he'd been young.]
So this little shiny square 'ere will protect me, hm? From what?
[He struggles to tear it open, not that he knows he can, but it seems like he should be able to, so he'll pull out a small knife, cutting through it. A small round piece of mostly clear plastic falls out and he'll poke at it, then picks it up.]
Me shirt could protect me better, or better yet, a good sharp blade could.
[Well, that condom you just sliced in two could protect Burke, if he knew from what and how to use it. But let's save the sex ed for another time.]
See this, this is all yeh need. [He holds the blade close so anyone watching can see it, maybe a bit too close.] Just gotta know where t'stick it. Get 'em right up in their ribs, cut up and make sure yeh put lotta force behind it, mm? That's how yeh protect yourself, not with these right silly things.
[And with that PSA done, Burke picks up the ruined condom to have another look at it, stretching it out a bit, only to accidentally sling shot it at the video feed. Whoops.]
Extra links:
Talking to Russian mobster about life and death.
Harassing a poor AU telepath.
THIRD-PERSON SAMPLE:
The boss had something for him to do. A job. Words Burke always loved to hear. Like music to his ears really, beautiful and angelic in nature, if only to him and him alone. It's how he finds himself in a small house out in the rough lands, just on the outskirts of a town, wife and daughter all alone at home, daddy no where to be found. Daddy would be better off not staying found if he wanted to keep his head on his shoulders, betraying Quentin Turnbull never ended well for anyone, he could name a few who'd done so and lived to regret the decision. Most though ended up dead and deader, food for the buzzards.
Speaking of buzzards, they're making a fine snack out of the said man's daughter, or what was left of her. He'd gagged and tied her to a pole outside the house and doused her in fuel, much to the horror of her mother tied and gagged just outside the door to their house. After petting the girl's hair back from her face, smiling sweetly at her with a 'Shhh sh sh shhh darlin', no need t'cry. I'll send your mamma t'yeh soon.', Burke stepped back, lighting a match and flicked it at the poor girl, setting her a flame.
Letting the mother watch for some minutes, until the girl was no longer moving, flames starting to die down, he moved to drag her back into the house, fingers gripping her hair tight.
"Y'know, lass, yeh might think ah me as the bad guy in this situation, a monster even. But yeh only have one monster t'blame, and that's your husband. He left yeh to this." He'll explain, pulling out his knife, fingers picking at the blade, turning it a little as he glanced down at her face. Wet from crying, makeup running down cheeks, she's a miserable wreck, but it's what he wants. It's how he likes them.
"He never shoulda bit the hand that fed em. The man behind the hand has someone with sharper teeth." And he'll grin wide, moving to stand over her menacingly, before raising his knife back sharply, then plunging it deep into her body. Over and over and over, making a mess of things, and he doesn't stop until he's covered in her blood and laughing, laughing so much he can't stop. It isn't until he hears the door of the house open that he realizes he's been going on for some minutes now. Looking back at the face of the man who'd been the cause of this mess, the turncoat himself, he smirks, looking wild and crazy with blood smeared across his face.
"I didn't think you'd be joinin' us. Come in, partys jus' gettin' good." His knife flashes as he brandishes it, lips spreading into a wicked smile.
NAME/HANDLE: Maus
PERSONAL JOURNAL:
ronsencockARE YOU 16 OR OVER?: Yessum. 26.
CONTACT: email: rroy87@outlook.com | plurk: ronsencock
OTHER CHARACTERS: N/A
character.
CHARACTER NAME: Burke
SERIES: Jonah Hex
Have his wiki for a good giggle. Yeah nothing on him.
He's a minor character and has little screen time or history, but this is what we know of him: He's an Irishman who works for Quentin Turnbull, a man intent on fucking up America with a power weapon, a 'nation killer'. He does Quentin's dirty work, getting the things he needs to set his plan in motion, like stopping a train by blowing up the front cars of it and killing countless innocents and militiamen. Or keeping Jonah Hex from attacking Quentin in his own base, wounding Hex greatly and chasing him off. And then he kidnaps Lilah to put Hex at a disadvantage against his boss, in an attempt to disarm him and keep him out of the way for Quentin's plans to finally come to fruition.
He also has bad history with Jonah Hex, as he burned his wife and child alive at the orders of Quentin Turnbull, after Hex betrayed his boss for a good cause, but ultimately got the other man's son killed in the process. Hence why he had Burke take the lives of Hex's family. Then held Hex still while Quentin branded him on the side of his face, marking him for the rest of his life.
Ultimately in a stand off against Hex to stop him from ruining their plans, Burke does end up losing. Head sliced open against boat propeller blades he's tossed to the ground before Hex decides it's not enough and uses his powers to talk to the dead to 'bring him back' so he can then doubly kill him, turning him to nothing but a pile of ash.
CANON POINT: After his death.
AGE: 36
APPEARANCE: Here you go. One tattooed crazy Irishman.
PERSONALITY:
Burke is first and foremost a man for himself. While he might seem like a loyal lapdog doing as his master says, he only does so because it suits him. Suits him because what he's told to do involves something he enjoys, something he likes, something that thrills and excites him. For the most part, unabashed violence with a smile on his face. The only reason he stays with Quentin Turnbull for the time he does and works as his right hand man is because of the freedom he has to do as he pleases. Quentin doesn't expect much out of him, just for Burke to do all of his dirty work, which he is of course more than happy to do, since this is typically something involving the slaughter of people in his boss' way.
Pain doesn't frighten him, nor does death, he leaps into a fight with all the intent to come out on top. And even when he knows he's out matched he'll just laugh it off and take the beating any way. Pain excites him, causing pain to others excites him. It drives him. He has no qualms in hurting anyone, child, woman, innocent or not. He's burned a woman and child alive and blown up a train of innocent people, laughed it off and seemed more the merrier for it.
He can go from a smiling charmer to balls to the walls crazy in mere seconds, maniacal cackle and all. Yet he does have a clam bone in his body, calm in meaning he isn't brandishing a weapon in someone's face. He usually has to be moving, doing something, whistling, singing a little tune or humming, or keeping his hands busy with something. A drink, his hat, a smoke. Something. He's almost jittery in his need to be doing something. He's like an eager dog, an eager dog that can't wait for someone to spook out a rabbit to chase down and slaughter.
Burke doesn't make friends, he finds amusement in people or something about them has to be worth his attention. Enemies he can make, easily, at the drop of a hat, but 'friends' those are more like with his relationship with his boss. If they suit his needs then he'll play friendly, get what he wants from them, his source of entertainment. He wouldn't think twice about going against anyone if it meant something better for himself.
Basically he is a born and bred psychopath in most definitions of the word.
ABILITIES: He's capable with firearms, melee and knives. If not able to adapt to use whatever is around him to fight if he has to. It does help that pain doesn't seem to faze him as it would a normal person, he registers it, but it only seems to make him more vicious or crazy when it comes to fighting. Pain still hurts him, but he seems to like it more than not.
POSSESSIONS:
One long sleeved bluish gray shirt.
Suspenders.
Dark brown pants with lighter colored vertical stripes on them.
Shoes.
samples.
JOURNAL ENTRY SAMPLE:
[Video]
[A certain still fairly newcomer to the ship has been looking around. It's been a few days and he's getting to know the place better, his new home away from death. Though people here would have him believe this place is worse than that. How silly of them. This place was new and exciting, plenty of people to bother, to harass, to be entertained by. The possibilities on this ship were endless for Burke.
But that's neither here nor there. Right now he's in one of the bathrooms. The women's if one might be able to tell the difference, he can't. He's not used to such modern facilities and there are no doors to tell him otherwise which one he should go in. Playing with the faucets to see what they did amused him for sometime. Flowing water that he could control so easily, how neat! It was rather clean too, at least for him and the time he'd come from. A little cloudy wasn't so bad, better than most water he was used to. The toilets are next on his list of things to touch, flushing them and watching the water spin down and away and then refilling... how very interesting! A grown man shouldn't be so entertained by such things!
When the video feed does actually turn on though he's got a small pile of things he's collected from the vending machines, notable things ladies would use but they're boring anyway once he's got them out of the wrapper. The other things though, it takes him a bit to read and understand the words on them. He can read, just not very well. He's a bit slow at it, teaching him to read and write his numbers and letters hadn't been on the top of his parents's to do list when he'd been young.]
So this little shiny square 'ere will protect me, hm? From what?
[He struggles to tear it open, not that he knows he can, but it seems like he should be able to, so he'll pull out a small knife, cutting through it. A small round piece of mostly clear plastic falls out and he'll poke at it, then picks it up.]
Me shirt could protect me better, or better yet, a good sharp blade could.
[Well, that condom you just sliced in two could protect Burke, if he knew from what and how to use it. But let's save the sex ed for another time.]
See this, this is all yeh need. [He holds the blade close so anyone watching can see it, maybe a bit too close.] Just gotta know where t'stick it. Get 'em right up in their ribs, cut up and make sure yeh put lotta force behind it, mm? That's how yeh protect yourself, not with these right silly things.
[And with that PSA done, Burke picks up the ruined condom to have another look at it, stretching it out a bit, only to accidentally sling shot it at the video feed. Whoops.]
Extra links:
Talking to Russian mobster about life and death.
Harassing a poor AU telepath.
THIRD-PERSON SAMPLE:
The boss had something for him to do. A job. Words Burke always loved to hear. Like music to his ears really, beautiful and angelic in nature, if only to him and him alone. It's how he finds himself in a small house out in the rough lands, just on the outskirts of a town, wife and daughter all alone at home, daddy no where to be found. Daddy would be better off not staying found if he wanted to keep his head on his shoulders, betraying Quentin Turnbull never ended well for anyone, he could name a few who'd done so and lived to regret the decision. Most though ended up dead and deader, food for the buzzards.
Speaking of buzzards, they're making a fine snack out of the said man's daughter, or what was left of her. He'd gagged and tied her to a pole outside the house and doused her in fuel, much to the horror of her mother tied and gagged just outside the door to their house. After petting the girl's hair back from her face, smiling sweetly at her with a 'Shhh sh sh shhh darlin', no need t'cry. I'll send your mamma t'yeh soon.', Burke stepped back, lighting a match and flicked it at the poor girl, setting her a flame.
Letting the mother watch for some minutes, until the girl was no longer moving, flames starting to die down, he moved to drag her back into the house, fingers gripping her hair tight.
"Y'know, lass, yeh might think ah me as the bad guy in this situation, a monster even. But yeh only have one monster t'blame, and that's your husband. He left yeh to this." He'll explain, pulling out his knife, fingers picking at the blade, turning it a little as he glanced down at her face. Wet from crying, makeup running down cheeks, she's a miserable wreck, but it's what he wants. It's how he likes them.
"He never shoulda bit the hand that fed em. The man behind the hand has someone with sharper teeth." And he'll grin wide, moving to stand over her menacingly, before raising his knife back sharply, then plunging it deep into her body. Over and over and over, making a mess of things, and he doesn't stop until he's covered in her blood and laughing, laughing so much he can't stop. It isn't until he hears the door of the house open that he realizes he's been going on for some minutes now. Looking back at the face of the man who'd been the cause of this mess, the turncoat himself, he smirks, looking wild and crazy with blood smeared across his face.
"I didn't think you'd be joinin' us. Come in, partys jus' gettin' good." His knife flashes as he brandishes it, lips spreading into a wicked smile.
