Post by lysander on Feb 13, 2009 1:18:09 GMT -5
Username: lysander
Current canons: Nooooone.
Canon you're auditioning for: Yazoo
Media canon is from: Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children
Is the current canon taken?: Not yeeeeet.
Audition post (400 words):
The sky declared that it was a day for sailors. Rain fell to the ground in heavy and exhausted bullets. The dark gray of the clouds overhead made no sign of softening their rough edges with a silver lining, but didn't have any intention of raining harder than a lazy drizzle. The docks of Port Royal were all but deserted, the majority of the small fishing town out on the water. Inwards toward the town the streets were empty in comparison to their usual hustle and bustle. Servants running errands and men off to work did not linger on the road to speak. Ladies framed in their finest dresses were not to be seen, and few children were out to play.
But there was one man. One man who lingered. His long silver hair was soaked to an outfit of black. Water streamed in rivulets down his lithe form. Thin, almond shaped eyes cast their gaze upwards, toward the town. Like the rain, he had arrived from no where, abruptly, before a soul could hope to predict his arrival. Several looked out their windows one moment, only to blink and see him appear as if the wind had brought him about on raindrops. He came like a plague.
A step forward and Yazoo was real, normal, excused. Curious housewives caught themselves staring from their windows, and pulled themselves away with a deep sigh.
The black, leathery material of Yazoo's outfit creaked and pulled softly at his skin while he stepped with the casual grace of a nobleman up into the town. His slender frame was held with an arrogant superiority. His empty gaze saw everything, but didn't seem to register any of it as important or worthy of attention. There were few words to describe his expression. Some might say determined, focused, or introverted. Most would say cold, detached, and distant.
"I think... This is a good place." Yazoo remarked, his thoughts escaping his mind. Finally his destination was clear to him. After having traipsed halfway through town he'd found the largest and most important looking of the buildings. Standing before it's iron gates, he mentally declared that this was where he'd have the best luck. Mother could not be held anywhere else in this wretched world. He would not allow it.
Yazoo stood stiffly, focused on the building before him, while a red-coated man holding an umbrella above his head rushed out under the rain. The officer scurried forwards, gave an odd look to the black-garbed man, and moved to the side. The officer wanted to avoid the imposing figure as much as he could. Of course, much to his dismay, Yazoo's hand caught him on the shoulder, and he was forced to look up. Yazoo's words made something move strangely inside of him. A pang of nervousness "Do you think they'll welcome me?"
"Err... Who?" The officer asked, irritated that this strange man evoked such discomfort within him. He wanted to brush the hand of the silver-haired man from his shoulder, but found himself staring into Yazoo's unfeeling eyes. The grip tightened painfully, and he wanted to cry out but couldn't. Stuck, lost, unable to move or resist, enticed by secrets that couldn't be seen.
"Hmhmhmhm." A condescending chuckle wrenched the man out of his daze, and the grip was released. The man gasped, hurrying on his way, without staying to hear Yazoo's answer. A smirk still playing across his lips, Yazoo's attention returned to the task at hand.
His footsteps carried him past the gates much to the dismay of the red-coated guards, and into the building where several brief tussles with security ended in uniformed men incapacitated.
Though it took several minutes Yazoo ascended to the top floor of the building. From there, it wasn't difficult at all to find the men in charge. The young silver-haired man just followed the rich decorations as they got richer. In a place like this the leader was guaranteed the nicest room. So when he found a beautifully carved gilded door, Yazoo assumed he'd found the right place.
With a swift kick the door swung open, and three men in powered wigs surrounding a desk all stood up in outrage. "What is the meaning of this?" One cried out.
"You don't treat your guests very well." Yazoo returned.
"I won't stand for it!" Another of the three said.
"Neither will I!" Added the third
But they were each too slow. Just as they were readying to take aim, the detached man in front of them replied to their indignation with some of his own. Three gunshots resounded, and the men with powdered wigs paled in fear. Moments before each had been holding a gun. Now, the pistols gripped in their sweaty palms were missing a barrel, and all they held was the splintered wood of what had been a finely crafted wooden grip seconds ago.
"What do you want? If it's money, you can have it all! Just don't kill us!" One was immediately reduced to sobbing and pleading, while the other two grit their teeth in a mix of shame and knowing. With a man like this, there wasn't any getting out alive.
But to the surprise of everyone present, Yazoo holstered his Velvet Nightmare, and walked towards them. There was an added something in his eyes. Was it a look of pride? His lips parted and the words ushered forth that he'd been intending to speak ever since he'd gotten here.
"Where is Mother?" His blank, interrogating tone utterly serious. The three officials exchanged strange looks. Finally one of them ventured a reply.
"What?"
"You've hidden her haven't you? You've hidden Mother. Where is she?" In the sound of his voice something deeper, more ominous, and yet almost playful arose. It could've been called sadistic, but it wasn't quite. It wasn't delightful or eager. It was an emotion only a man like Yazoo could comprehend.
"We don't know what you're-" It was at that very moment that an alarm rang aloud, resounding through the town, and the three men looked out the large window of the office to their perfect view of the docks at the foot of the town. In the distance a massive boat began it's approach, black sails flying from it's masts.
Yazoo lifted an eyebrow in curiosity, and he heard one man whisper to another "pirates..." While the pitiful one wailed ever louder. Pirates?, he thought. He examined the three men once more. If anything, pirates would be more useful than these three.
He reached a hand back to pull out his gun, so as not to leave any loose ends lying around to complicate things; however, his timing couldn't have been anymore perfect. A light, victorious tune sang through the air with an electronic buzz.
"Hmph." Yazoo grunted his annoyance. Palming his phone, the man answered with abrupt rudeness. "What is it?" He leaned against a wall, folding one arm over his chest while he spoke. "Fine." There was a loud pause. "Stop crying. I'm done here."
With the conversation over, Yazoo paused looking from the men to the exit, debating something intensely in the confines of his head. "Hmph." His annoyance overflowed once more, and he stormed from the room and the three confused men, all still in tact...
The bewildered men sank back into their chairs, shaking, wondering what in god's name had just happened, what was going on. With the door shut now, though, they were safe, everything was over and done with. All over.
Which is why, when the door slammed open for a second time that day, they couldn't help but cry out in unison. With two gunshots their cries were cut short, and Yazoo stood in the center of the room, smoke rolling off the barrel of his weapon. The cringe, cowering man watched Yazoo stroll casually across to one of the bookshelves lining the walls and pull a book down. "I almost forgot..."[/color] He emphasized his wording with an innocent shrug, tiling his head to the side and smiling. "I like this book.
The last man crashed from the window, screaming all the way down to a messy and tasteless end.[/size]
Current canons: Nooooone.
Canon you're auditioning for: Yazoo
Media canon is from: Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children
Is the current canon taken?: Not yeeeeet.
Audition post (400 words):
The sky declared that it was a day for sailors. Rain fell to the ground in heavy and exhausted bullets. The dark gray of the clouds overhead made no sign of softening their rough edges with a silver lining, but didn't have any intention of raining harder than a lazy drizzle. The docks of Port Royal were all but deserted, the majority of the small fishing town out on the water. Inwards toward the town the streets were empty in comparison to their usual hustle and bustle. Servants running errands and men off to work did not linger on the road to speak. Ladies framed in their finest dresses were not to be seen, and few children were out to play.
But there was one man. One man who lingered. His long silver hair was soaked to an outfit of black. Water streamed in rivulets down his lithe form. Thin, almond shaped eyes cast their gaze upwards, toward the town. Like the rain, he had arrived from no where, abruptly, before a soul could hope to predict his arrival. Several looked out their windows one moment, only to blink and see him appear as if the wind had brought him about on raindrops. He came like a plague.
A step forward and Yazoo was real, normal, excused. Curious housewives caught themselves staring from their windows, and pulled themselves away with a deep sigh.
The black, leathery material of Yazoo's outfit creaked and pulled softly at his skin while he stepped with the casual grace of a nobleman up into the town. His slender frame was held with an arrogant superiority. His empty gaze saw everything, but didn't seem to register any of it as important or worthy of attention. There were few words to describe his expression. Some might say determined, focused, or introverted. Most would say cold, detached, and distant.
"I think... This is a good place." Yazoo remarked, his thoughts escaping his mind. Finally his destination was clear to him. After having traipsed halfway through town he'd found the largest and most important looking of the buildings. Standing before it's iron gates, he mentally declared that this was where he'd have the best luck. Mother could not be held anywhere else in this wretched world. He would not allow it.
Yazoo stood stiffly, focused on the building before him, while a red-coated man holding an umbrella above his head rushed out under the rain. The officer scurried forwards, gave an odd look to the black-garbed man, and moved to the side. The officer wanted to avoid the imposing figure as much as he could. Of course, much to his dismay, Yazoo's hand caught him on the shoulder, and he was forced to look up. Yazoo's words made something move strangely inside of him. A pang of nervousness "Do you think they'll welcome me?"
"Err... Who?" The officer asked, irritated that this strange man evoked such discomfort within him. He wanted to brush the hand of the silver-haired man from his shoulder, but found himself staring into Yazoo's unfeeling eyes. The grip tightened painfully, and he wanted to cry out but couldn't. Stuck, lost, unable to move or resist, enticed by secrets that couldn't be seen.
"Hmhmhmhm." A condescending chuckle wrenched the man out of his daze, and the grip was released. The man gasped, hurrying on his way, without staying to hear Yazoo's answer. A smirk still playing across his lips, Yazoo's attention returned to the task at hand.
His footsteps carried him past the gates much to the dismay of the red-coated guards, and into the building where several brief tussles with security ended in uniformed men incapacitated.
Though it took several minutes Yazoo ascended to the top floor of the building. From there, it wasn't difficult at all to find the men in charge. The young silver-haired man just followed the rich decorations as they got richer. In a place like this the leader was guaranteed the nicest room. So when he found a beautifully carved gilded door, Yazoo assumed he'd found the right place.
With a swift kick the door swung open, and three men in powered wigs surrounding a desk all stood up in outrage. "What is the meaning of this?" One cried out.
"You don't treat your guests very well." Yazoo returned.
"I won't stand for it!" Another of the three said.
"Neither will I!" Added the third
But they were each too slow. Just as they were readying to take aim, the detached man in front of them replied to their indignation with some of his own. Three gunshots resounded, and the men with powdered wigs paled in fear. Moments before each had been holding a gun. Now, the pistols gripped in their sweaty palms were missing a barrel, and all they held was the splintered wood of what had been a finely crafted wooden grip seconds ago.
"What do you want? If it's money, you can have it all! Just don't kill us!" One was immediately reduced to sobbing and pleading, while the other two grit their teeth in a mix of shame and knowing. With a man like this, there wasn't any getting out alive.
But to the surprise of everyone present, Yazoo holstered his Velvet Nightmare, and walked towards them. There was an added something in his eyes. Was it a look of pride? His lips parted and the words ushered forth that he'd been intending to speak ever since he'd gotten here.
"Where is Mother?" His blank, interrogating tone utterly serious. The three officials exchanged strange looks. Finally one of them ventured a reply.
"What?"
"You've hidden her haven't you? You've hidden Mother. Where is she?" In the sound of his voice something deeper, more ominous, and yet almost playful arose. It could've been called sadistic, but it wasn't quite. It wasn't delightful or eager. It was an emotion only a man like Yazoo could comprehend.
"We don't know what you're-" It was at that very moment that an alarm rang aloud, resounding through the town, and the three men looked out the large window of the office to their perfect view of the docks at the foot of the town. In the distance a massive boat began it's approach, black sails flying from it's masts.
Yazoo lifted an eyebrow in curiosity, and he heard one man whisper to another "pirates..." While the pitiful one wailed ever louder. Pirates?, he thought. He examined the three men once more. If anything, pirates would be more useful than these three.
He reached a hand back to pull out his gun, so as not to leave any loose ends lying around to complicate things; however, his timing couldn't have been anymore perfect. A light, victorious tune sang through the air with an electronic buzz.
"Hmph." Yazoo grunted his annoyance. Palming his phone, the man answered with abrupt rudeness. "What is it?" He leaned against a wall, folding one arm over his chest while he spoke. "Fine." There was a loud pause. "Stop crying. I'm done here."
With the conversation over, Yazoo paused looking from the men to the exit, debating something intensely in the confines of his head. "Hmph." His annoyance overflowed once more, and he stormed from the room and the three confused men, all still in tact...
The bewildered men sank back into their chairs, shaking, wondering what in god's name had just happened, what was going on. With the door shut now, though, they were safe, everything was over and done with. All over.
Which is why, when the door slammed open for a second time that day, they couldn't help but cry out in unison. With two gunshots their cries were cut short, and Yazoo stood in the center of the room, smoke rolling off the barrel of his weapon. The cringe, cowering man watched Yazoo stroll casually across to one of the bookshelves lining the walls and pull a book down. "I almost forgot..."[/color] He emphasized his wording with an innocent shrug, tiling his head to the side and smiling. "I like this book.
The last man crashed from the window, screaming all the way down to a messy and tasteless end.[/size]
I did post in shades of grey if anyone even remembers that lmao