Player name: Sarah
Contact: karkat_vantas @ plurk, PMs
Are you over 18: yes
Characters in The Box Already: Amal Chakravarthy
Character Name: Audrey II, aka Twoey
Canon: Little Shop of Horrors (1986)
Canon Point: Sometime between "Da Doo" and "Grow For Me". Twoey will be hungry and tiny, but not on the brink of starvation.
Is your character Dead, Undead or Alive: Alive
History: Not much is known about the strange and interesting plant called the Audrey II. Seymour Krelborn, the
schmuck lucky guy who discovered the creature, can only explain a small fraction of it. He visited a plant salesman looking for something different, but failed to find anything. Before he could leave, there was an unexpected solar eclipse, a strange noise, and when he could see again, bam! A tiny little flytrap-looking baby that he swore wasn't there before. But he bought it, named it after the woman he hopelessly pines after, and ever since then he's been wracking his brains trying to figure out what will keep the rapidly-wilting pod alive.
I can go into detail about what happened after if you like, but that's its canon point. However, it's strongly implied that this creature has been devouring, growing, budding, and slowly spreading versions of itself across the universe... and now, for whatever nefarious purposes, the Technicians have decided to plant it (HAW HAW) in the Box.
Personality: Twoey is a golden-throated warbler, a fast-talking salesplant, and the magic genie of legend all rolled up into one. It wants nothing more than to be your friend and see you prosper. Really! Trust the plant. It will bring you happiness. Come on, honey, just take a chance. What's one limb or one life compared to what you want?
Okay, but seriously. Twoey's no fool; it knows it will die early if it can't coerce easily controlled or manipulated strangers into stopping and listening to its call. To lure them in, Twoey will do whatever's necessary. It will use pity, its soulful singing voice, or the appeal of being an exotic new specimen science types would kill to study. It will swear it's on everyone's side and offer characters in the Box money, love, adoration, the moon, and every star. To some extent, it can back these promises up (see Abilities), and that just gives it the foundation to prey on everyone's basic greed. That's half the fun right there, watching people tear themselves and each other apart over their precious morality.
Although once strong enough it could just put out the vibe and have every weak-willed jerk in a ten-mile radius lining up for a grand tour of its digestive tract, that's not enough for Twoey. It's stuck in one place for the most part, and it needs entertainment. Twoey prefers to play games, manipulating people into being its pawns and thinking they're the ones in charge until it suits it to turn on them. It likes the challenge of seeking out new prey, of discovering their soft bits, and most importantly, the intoxicating joy of drilling its vines right into those bits and causing the most agony before death. It's a devious creature, intelligent, and it wants to use its powers to play people against each other. Let them bash each other's skulls in, and Twoey will be there to reap the spoils.
Twoey loves destruction almost as much as it loves to eat, and when riled its temper is terrifying. If it has a reason to hate someone it will go after them, and it will make it deeply personal. Innocent loved ones are likely to die in the wake of Twoey's rage. Buildings collapse. It gets messy. And don't think for a moment that it can be charmed or won over. It's quite the actor and good at getting people to like it, but underneath it all it's only out for number one. For all it croons about care and trust, there is no empathy or true friendship to be found there. The closer it gets to everone, the easier it will be to hurt them later, and that plus survival is what motivates it to make nice with the walking blood sacks I mean people.
In short: It will offer you fortune and fame. Love and money and instant acclaim. But whatever it offers you, don't feed the plant!
Didn't think you'd see a musical number worked into an application, did you? Silly mods.
Abilities, Strengths and Weaknesses: Twoey comes with a rich baritone singing voice. It's especially fond of R&B, soul, basically anything put out by Motown and Atlantic Records.
The more it eats, the faster it grows, and trust me. This thing increases in size so dramatically after a feeding you can stand there and watch it happen.
As it gets bigger, it also gets tougher, and those tender leaves turn into armor. Gunfire, blades that aren't very sharp, and small explosives seem to bounce right off its pod. Poison doesn't seem to affect it either.
It also has one very important ability that's necessary to play him and very godmoddy. Godmodey? Whatever. It's a thing Twoey does that requires a lot of OOC coordinating, and I'm prepared to do that. Barring the psychic-resisting types in the game or anyone who OOCly tells me no, it can influence any sentient being. Normally Twoey prefers sweet-talking its prey, letting them choose to help on their own, but when it comes time to pay up, Twoey has the ability to put other people to work on its behalf. It ranges from a little mental push, subtle suggestions that the person assumes are their own thoughts and urges, to taking absolute control of their bodies for a very brief time.
Weaknesses are easier: Twoey is a plant. Unless it's in the early phase where it's small enough to be carried around, it's essentially trapped in one place. The only way it can move is to drag itself by the vines, which is really hard, or grow large enough to throw down long roots, bud, and put out more of itself. Or there's always the off chance that scientists or greedy/curious people will take a cutting, thus starting their own fresh Audrey II adventure...
As long as it's small, Twoey cannot speak. Its early threads will have to be done with body language and feeble mental pulls.
Also, while generally a very stubborn survivor, Twoey can be killed by electricity, fire, aggressive parasites, and so on. Some parts of it, like its vines and roots, aren't as easily protected as its pod. The barrier can kill it too, of course. And just because it's tough doesn't mean I'll let it be immune to event-related afflictions.
There's only one thing it can eat, and that's blood. Fresh blood, mind you, Twoey don't truck with none of that preserved shit in the bags. Without blood, it will starve, and nobody wants to watch a mournful network post set to "Chain Of Fools", do they? For the sake of the game this will also include alien blood, Groot's sap, and whatever the hell Transformers run on. Everyone is a potential victim! Yaaay!
Network/Action Spam Sample: [Okay, here's the thing. The creature on the other end of the line is green. Very green. Also eyeless. And leafy. Add the fact that it appears to have a vine wrapped around the phone in lieu of hands, and you get the picture. It smiles, the fat lips lining its pod splitting into a grin that displays two rows of uneven teeth.
Then it speaks. That rich, booming voice sounds odd coming from a plant, but whaddya gonna do.]
Goooooood morning! And ain't it a beautiful day? The sun's almost shining, the squirrels have been staying off my pod, and we haven't had a death in what, hours? Sounds like a winner to me, ahhahahahaha!
So now, why don't we all just... take a minute to think about the poor little Audrey II, out here all on its lonesome? And for the people who only just started paying attention, that would be me. Y'see, believe it or not...
[Audrey II holds the phone out at vine's length, filming its entire self. It sure is a massive talking flytrap of some sort. Clearly not going anywhere anytime soon.]
...I'm not the most agile cat in the jungle, and I'm STARVIN'! So why don't some of you kind, generous souls out there come do your friend a solid, huh? Who knows, there might even be something in it for ya!
[The plant tilts its pod in what might just resemble a wink.]
Prose Log Sample: Twoey was proud of its debut in the flower shop. A little nudge, just the right amount of psychic pushing, and some random chump couldn't have run off the street fast enough to tell everyone what a strange and interesting plant they had there. Not that that should have taken any persuasion, in Twoey's humble opinion. Of course it was strange and interesting, among other adjectives. It also would have accepted stunning, magnificent, and vastly superior to any of the worthless punks in the room. No matter, the job had gotten done. And, of course, it had set that chunky bastard Mr. Mushnik's eyes glowing with the promise of more hundred dollar bills spent on his cheap, wilting roses. It was almost too easy.
Well, no. It wasn't. The chump in question had challenged its power with some willful resistance, and it had taken more energy than Twoey had anticipated to keep him docile and cooperative. Turns out people here were just as resistant to someone trying to part them from the things they valued, how about that. It would just have to double its efforts somehow, wouldn't it? It just had to... it...
Dammit. It hadn't had a drink since landing on this pitiful manure pile they called Earth. Twoey felt its strength leaving it, its lower pod hitting the rim of the little coffee can as the humans started a flurry of panic that satisfied it. Even as it lay there dizzy with hunger it had to make an effort not to smile to itself. Good. They should be worried. Suckers had the meal ticket of their lives in their sweaty little palms, of course they were going to do anything necessary to keep it alive.
All part of the game, baby.
All part of the game.