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Esperance App
Nov. 25th, 2011 09:49 amPLAYER INFO
Name/Nick: Zully Quirke
AIM/IM: zullyquirke@gmail.com
E-mail: zullyquirke@gmail.com
Other Characters: Kaylee Frye
CHARACTER INFO
Character Name: Raylan Givens
Fandom: Justified
Age: 40
Canon Point: End of episode one, season one.
Warden/Inmate: Warden. Raylan is a US Marshal and though he's certainly prone to taking the law into his own hands, he most certainly holds being a law man as one of the most important facets of his personality. He believes in justice and bringing it to those who've managed to evade it very strongly. To quote his boss, "You're a shitty Marshal, Raylan, but you're a good law man."
Inventory: His gun, his badge, his hat, a wardrobe of his clothes, and probably lots of booze. A framed photo and his wallet, also.
Abilities/Powers: NONE. He's just a charming jackass.
Personality: "You're like the hillbilly whisperer. We oughta put you on Oprah."
Raylan is known for his charm, his swagger and his big ol' hat. He's a laid back southern man who's glided through numerous situations by the skin of his teeth because of that charm (and sometimes swagger-- rarely the hat). He takes pride in being a lawman, but he thinks rules are only useful as long as they're aiding the cause of justice. His personality type would've done well as an old-west setting where the Sheriff gained the trust of his community and ruled over those who broke the peace with varying degrees of compassion and a no-bullshit attitude depending on what the situation warranted. He's a good man but a notorious rule-breaker, a man who loves what he does and despises the way things have to end up as a result, and a man who's ruled by the seat of his pants in more ways than one.
He's prone to making snap decisions and going with his gut, though that's certainly not to say he's not smart enough to already be four steps ahead of you when he does. He may look slow and casual but his mind is always working, always looking deeper, always solving problems-- or trying to at least, and this is certainly occasionally to his detriment.
"Raylan, you do a good job of hiding it. And I s'pose most folks don't see it, but honestly, you're the angriest man I have ever known."
Those who know Raylan, though, know that he's not all smiles and kicked-back boots. He's got a seething, bubbling anger constantly simmering below the surface. Very rarely does it burst out, but when it does it's with no consideration for who's in his war path and no real sense of constraint. He's a man with a lot of issues and a man who doesn't like to acknowledge any of them, especially not the ones he gets directly from his father.
Path to Redemption: N/A
Job Effectiveness: Raylan is a pretty laid back kind of guy. It's not that he doesn't know the rules, it's that he only chooses to follow the ones he thinks are most effective to solving his particular case. To be honest he probably won't be that fantastic of a warden, at least not at first. His first priority will be to hunting down Boyd as soon as he finds out he's here and helicopter-momming whoever his Warden ends up being. He will likely eventually come to be a good Warden. Once something catches his attention it becomes an all-consuming obsession for him, so once the cause of helping his Inmate become redeemed catches his eye he'll pursue it with all the dogged force of Raylan Givens.
History: WIKI LINK.
Extra Notes:
SAMPLES
Journal Entry: [Raylan rubs a hand down his chin, glancing around the room as the video flickers on.]
Well. Ain't this somethin.' Roomy accommodations, closet full of finely pressed suits. Looks like I even got a full on kitchen here. Nicer 'n the motel, but I bet this place don't come with maids.
[he chuckles, looking down. He has some paperwork in his lap, and he's twirling a key around between his fingers] Interestin' setup. Ain't quite sure I believe it yet-- hate to admit, but I did have me a few drinks last night and I think I'd rather believe this is some sort of ... [a deep inhale as he glances around again] alcohol induced hallucination. But bein' as I've sat here for a good half hour and had a walk-around, it's either real or the most convincing hallucination I've had in my entire life.
So! [he leans forward, casually resting his elbows on the end of his knees with a lazy kind of smile.] What's next?
Sample Log: It'd been a long day. A really, really long day. A long week, really, since he never figured he'd end up saddled back in Kentucky again. Promised himself he'd never be here again, but here he was. He'd rented out a cheap motel to stay in -- temporary, like his stay in Kentucky. He'd get his transfer out of here soon as all that Miami bullshit blew over.
He hung his hat up, sitting down and kicking his boots up with a groan. He had a six pack on the table. He popped one open and took a long pull from the bottle, head lilting back.
"Jesus..."
He'd shot a man in Miami, been exported back to Kentucky, where the first case he'd been put on was with a former friend of his who he dug coal with who'd apparently turned into a psychotic racist criminal. Then he ran into his ex wife, his ex wife who'd left him for a lame-ass realtor who was about as boring as salt, workin' outta the same building he was stuck working in himself.
Licking his lips, he groaned low and let his head sink back down to the table. Sure, he could tell himself it was just one assignment to Harlan, but he knew better. He knew he'd be sent down there again, and probably every other goddamn time they stirred up shit. And with him being back he figured it was just as likely that shit would be stirred up again either because the fine citizens of Harlan County found it amusing or just because that's how his luck ran. Either way, he was the Harlan guy now. The locals knew him, trusted him in ways they'd only trust their own-- because as much as Raylan hated large parts of it, he was one of their own. No matter how many states he'd run to, no matter how many different lifestyles he'd tried on this is where he'd ended up. Right back at the beginning.
"Back in Harlan County." He was on his third bottle now, though he didn't remembering opening numbers two or three. That was probably a bad sign, but not one Raylan cared overmuch about. He tongued the inside of his cheek, looking down at his lap with a low chuckle. "Back in goddamn Harlan County."
He swore he'd leave, never come back here. That he wouldn't die here. That he wouldn't become the only two things anyone out of Harlan ever were -- drug runners or coal miners. He raised his bottle.
"'Least I'm two for four."
Name/Nick: Zully Quirke
AIM/IM: zullyquirke@gmail.com
E-mail: zullyquirke@gmail.com
Other Characters: Kaylee Frye
CHARACTER INFO
Character Name: Raylan Givens
Fandom: Justified
Age: 40
Canon Point: End of episode one, season one.
Warden/Inmate: Warden. Raylan is a US Marshal and though he's certainly prone to taking the law into his own hands, he most certainly holds being a law man as one of the most important facets of his personality. He believes in justice and bringing it to those who've managed to evade it very strongly. To quote his boss, "You're a shitty Marshal, Raylan, but you're a good law man."
Inventory: His gun, his badge, his hat, a wardrobe of his clothes, and probably lots of booze. A framed photo and his wallet, also.
Abilities/Powers: NONE. He's just a charming jackass.
Personality: "You're like the hillbilly whisperer. We oughta put you on Oprah."
Raylan is known for his charm, his swagger and his big ol' hat. He's a laid back southern man who's glided through numerous situations by the skin of his teeth because of that charm (and sometimes swagger-- rarely the hat). He takes pride in being a lawman, but he thinks rules are only useful as long as they're aiding the cause of justice. His personality type would've done well as an old-west setting where the Sheriff gained the trust of his community and ruled over those who broke the peace with varying degrees of compassion and a no-bullshit attitude depending on what the situation warranted. He's a good man but a notorious rule-breaker, a man who loves what he does and despises the way things have to end up as a result, and a man who's ruled by the seat of his pants in more ways than one.
He's prone to making snap decisions and going with his gut, though that's certainly not to say he's not smart enough to already be four steps ahead of you when he does. He may look slow and casual but his mind is always working, always looking deeper, always solving problems-- or trying to at least, and this is certainly occasionally to his detriment.
"Raylan, you do a good job of hiding it. And I s'pose most folks don't see it, but honestly, you're the angriest man I have ever known."
Those who know Raylan, though, know that he's not all smiles and kicked-back boots. He's got a seething, bubbling anger constantly simmering below the surface. Very rarely does it burst out, but when it does it's with no consideration for who's in his war path and no real sense of constraint. He's a man with a lot of issues and a man who doesn't like to acknowledge any of them, especially not the ones he gets directly from his father.
Path to Redemption: N/A
Job Effectiveness: Raylan is a pretty laid back kind of guy. It's not that he doesn't know the rules, it's that he only chooses to follow the ones he thinks are most effective to solving his particular case. To be honest he probably won't be that fantastic of a warden, at least not at first. His first priority will be to hunting down Boyd as soon as he finds out he's here and helicopter-momming whoever his Warden ends up being. He will likely eventually come to be a good Warden. Once something catches his attention it becomes an all-consuming obsession for him, so once the cause of helping his Inmate become redeemed catches his eye he'll pursue it with all the dogged force of Raylan Givens.
History: WIKI LINK.
Extra Notes:
SAMPLES
Journal Entry: [Raylan rubs a hand down his chin, glancing around the room as the video flickers on.]
Well. Ain't this somethin.' Roomy accommodations, closet full of finely pressed suits. Looks like I even got a full on kitchen here. Nicer 'n the motel, but I bet this place don't come with maids.
[he chuckles, looking down. He has some paperwork in his lap, and he's twirling a key around between his fingers] Interestin' setup. Ain't quite sure I believe it yet-- hate to admit, but I did have me a few drinks last night and I think I'd rather believe this is some sort of ... [a deep inhale as he glances around again] alcohol induced hallucination. But bein' as I've sat here for a good half hour and had a walk-around, it's either real or the most convincing hallucination I've had in my entire life.
So! [he leans forward, casually resting his elbows on the end of his knees with a lazy kind of smile.] What's next?
Sample Log: It'd been a long day. A really, really long day. A long week, really, since he never figured he'd end up saddled back in Kentucky again. Promised himself he'd never be here again, but here he was. He'd rented out a cheap motel to stay in -- temporary, like his stay in Kentucky. He'd get his transfer out of here soon as all that Miami bullshit blew over.
He hung his hat up, sitting down and kicking his boots up with a groan. He had a six pack on the table. He popped one open and took a long pull from the bottle, head lilting back.
"Jesus..."
He'd shot a man in Miami, been exported back to Kentucky, where the first case he'd been put on was with a former friend of his who he dug coal with who'd apparently turned into a psychotic racist criminal. Then he ran into his ex wife, his ex wife who'd left him for a lame-ass realtor who was about as boring as salt, workin' outta the same building he was stuck working in himself.
Licking his lips, he groaned low and let his head sink back down to the table. Sure, he could tell himself it was just one assignment to Harlan, but he knew better. He knew he'd be sent down there again, and probably every other goddamn time they stirred up shit. And with him being back he figured it was just as likely that shit would be stirred up again either because the fine citizens of Harlan County found it amusing or just because that's how his luck ran. Either way, he was the Harlan guy now. The locals knew him, trusted him in ways they'd only trust their own-- because as much as Raylan hated large parts of it, he was one of their own. No matter how many states he'd run to, no matter how many different lifestyles he'd tried on this is where he'd ended up. Right back at the beginning.
"Back in Harlan County." He was on his third bottle now, though he didn't remembering opening numbers two or three. That was probably a bad sign, but not one Raylan cared overmuch about. He tongued the inside of his cheek, looking down at his lap with a low chuckle. "Back in goddamn Harlan County."
He swore he'd leave, never come back here. That he wouldn't die here. That he wouldn't become the only two things anyone out of Harlan ever were -- drug runners or coal miners. He raised his bottle.
"'Least I'm two for four."
