Col. Sebastian Moran (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
scopedconduit) wrote2012-10-22 08:08 pm
scopedconduit) wrote2012-10-22 08:08 pm
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multiversal app ]
Out-Of-Character Information
Name: Lynn
Username:sepiaepiphany
Are you over the age of eighteen? y
Current characters in Baedal: n/a
In-Character Information
Character Name: Colonel Sebastian Moran
Username:scopedconduit
Fandom: BBC's Sherlock
Played By: Richard Armitage
Original Character Section
Physical Description: Sebastian Moran is 38. He is tall and well-muscled, having served in the British Army (1st brigade of the RIFLES) for many years. He has dark hair and light eyes, as well as several tattoos he has collected over the years.
Sexuality: For the most part, Moran prefers women. Dark hair, light hair, it doesn't really matter to him. He's generally prone to avoid commitment, especially in a sexual sense. He's had several girlfriends, both at home and abroad. He has also experimented with men (one of whom was his second as a sniper in the Army), but it's never gone beyond minor groping.
World Information: Moran belongs in the world of the BBC series Sherlock. He is (based on the short stories by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle) the chief of staff for Jim Moriarty, called in to get his hands dirty now on only the most high importance jobs.
History: Sebastian Moran was born to Sir Augustus Moran, Companion in the Order of the Knights of Bath, and Rachel Moran in 1974. He was educated at an elite primary school before moving on to Eton. He graduated Oxford with a degree in jurisprudence.
After graduating in 1995, Moran enlisted in the Royal Green Jackets, with the British Royal Army. He was put in the third regiment. When the RGJ was restructed into the RIFLES, he became part of the first batallion. He served in the wars against Afghanistan and Iraq. After his service in Iraq, he volunteered again for Afghanistan in early 2008.
Moran spent 14 years in the Army, reaching the rank of lieutenant-colonel during active service, retiring only after he was forced into it by an ambush on the regiment he was traveling with in the middle of 2008, during his enlistment in Afghanistan. Moran, who was to join with another regiment and not currently on a sniping assignment, was shot three times in the chest and required major medical assistance to save his life. He and the few other survivors triede to fight but had to be rescued by another unit who heard their distress call.
Post-action, Moran was promoted to colonel for his attempts to hold off the ambushers and help his fellow soldiers. However, privately, his commanding officer told him that even after his physical therapy had him back on his feet, he needed to be cleared to return to action by a psychiatrist. Unfortunately, the first therapist Moran tried was not a good personality fit, and he rejected the whole thing.
Over the next six months, he let drinking, which had always been used as a solace, become a crutch, and he took more and more of his prescription pain pills. Waking up in a hospital bed and being told he'd drank a bottle of whiskey and downed a bottle of pain pills in about two hours' time was a wake-up call for Moran. With difficulty, he cut himself off both cold turkey, attending regular AA meetings (and an occasional NA meeting) and attempting therapy again.
The second try didn't go well, either. After two weeks of three sessions, Moran started to get text messages from a blocked number, offering him a job. After a session frayed his last nerve, he walked out on his therapist and replied to the strange texts, asking for details. Later that night, he met with Jim Moriarty.
Moriarty offered him extraordinary amounts of money for his work as a bodyguard. After two months, the pay went up, but so did requests. At first, it was threats. Acting as an enforcer. Then, it became theft. Whether getting information by chatting someone up or actually breaking into a place. Then, finally, it became murder. By that time, Moran had found his new purpose and felt thoroughly useful to Moriarty, the same way he had in the Army. He became Moriarty's assassin when the job called for the highest skill.
Powers: N/A
Talents/Abilities:: Moran is a crackshot. He is skilled with handguns and with rifles. As a sniper, his expertise is in making distance shots others might consider impossible, even with a scope. (Of course, this applies only to possible terrain and the maximum abilities of the gun.)
Personality: Sebastian Moran is rather like a German Shepherd trained to be a police dog.
He makes no secret of his physical strength (which for his world is fairly decent, as he is used to heavy lifting and some brawling) and will show his metaphorical teeth in an argument. He can be friendly when he's not on the job, but the moment his master gives the word, he can lunge into the attack. No loyalty is more improtant than that of his master. At one point, this was England and its Army, but their refusal to allow him back to war means his allegiance has shifted to Jim Moriarty.
Sebastian does try to, when sounding out new places, hide his current loyalty, often playing the part of the patriotic former soldier. He will admit to the flaws he wants people to know, such as having an addictive personality (to explain why he avoids heavy gambling and especially ever drinking again), but he will hide others, like his ability to kill without remorse. He displays a temper that isn't always real. Usually, the less something matters to his cover and sense of security, the more vocally he will get angry and maybe throw a punch. When it really matters, his anger is quieter, much more subtle and much more likely to involve someone getting seriously injured.
Moran sometimes downplays his intelligence. He doesn't tend to volunteer information about where he went to school or what he studied. He's much more likely to offer assistance via suggestions, particularly with people who are obviously smarter than he is or who show signs of thinking they are. when it comes to combat situations, he does try to assume control, simply because his military background makes him feel competent to do so. He favours individual action, as the Royal Green Jackets and RIFLES are a self-operating sort of unit and prefer their members to think individually rather than act as a whole.
Object: His sniper rifle, in its case with its scope.
Reason for playing: Admittedly, part of the reason I chose this character is because I'm a major fan of Moran in the ACD short story "Adventure of the Empty House," and I am utterly heartbroken he has not yet been on the show. So, taking the original canon and modern allowances that must be made, I modernised the character.
I want to bring him to this game in particularly because the dark atmosphere goes well with what he is, and I would love to see him adjust to the strange atmosphere around him. The stress of the world will definitely put him well out of his comfort zone, and he is a character who is often in control, so that will be interesting to see.
I'm not heavily commited to any particular plot arcs, but watching him make and break alliances ought to be fascinating. He is, basically, a well-trained police dog off leash and without his master in sight, and it's been some time since he's had full reign. So, I'm really interested in seeing how that will play out.
Gods: Gediron. Moran is a solider and wants to remain a soldier, which is why he took up with Moriarty so easily after the Army wouldn't have him any longer. Moran has no fear of bloodshed and, actually, quite enjoys the fight.
Writing Samples
Players may choose to write three of the four writing samples. Additionally, for two of the three samples applicants may substitute links to previously written roleplaying threads of no less than eight substantial replies. We reserve the right to ask for an additional sample if more information is required.
Probably unnecessary, but I'm going to go ahead and warn for heavy use of profanity. And a mention of suicide.
First-Person Network Post:
[Okay. For as weird as all this is? At least the mobile is something he can manage to use. Sure, sure, it's obviously not his and not totally what he's used to, but. It's like a gun. There are some parts they all have, and if you know one decently, you can figure most others out.]
Not sure who all can hear this. But this place? Is fucked up. Still want to know how I got here, but it doesn't look like anyone's sayin' much on that.
Shit. [He wants a drink. He really, really wants a drink. But, his luck, he'll turn the corner and run right into Jim. So, he'll settle for a vice Jim won't kill him for.]
Any good samaritan want to tell a guy where he can get a pack of cigarettes?
First-Person Journal Post:
Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.
I really, really hate this place. What the fuck am I supposed to do with this? Fucking deskwork. There've got to be other jobs in this place. Holy shit. Swear to God, if I'm stuck behind a fucking desk for too long? Putting a gun to my head pulling the fucking trigger. Maybe that's the way to get out of this place.
Jim'll kill me when I get back. If I'm lucky. My luck, he'll figure out a way to skin me and pour lemon juice on it or something. Fuck if I know. I really don't want to find out. Because he's not going to listen to this "I couldn't leave" bullshit. Christ.
I hate this fucking place.
Third-Person Action Post:
"Normal" people don't go looking for a fight. But, like Jim always says, Normal is boring. There's nothing else to do, nothing else he can bring himself to do. So when the chance came to dig his heels in and really piss someone off--
He even managed to make the guy punch first. Completely drunk, but it's not like Moran cares. It's someone who's stupid enough to want to fight. There's blood now, and the smell of it only drives him on more. He dodges, punches. A knee catches him in the stomach, and it feels almost as good as when his knuckles shatter the nose of his opponent. It's not a fair fight, he knows, but he doesn't care. He'll beat the shit out of a drunk any day of the week. It's good for him, freeing. Every sense is engaged on this moment. There are no worries except where the next blow is coming from.
All he sees is his opponent, though sometimes his mind does a quick sweep of the background and peripheral. Can't have any of his buddies stepping in and catching him off guard. But none of them are being that stupid. They're just letting their friend fight. Even when he goes down and Moran delivers one more hard blow to the jaw with the heel of his boot. He breathes out as the rage he'd fought with leaves.
Better. Much better.
Miscellaneous
Other: I don't think there's anything!
Name: Lynn
Username:
sepiaepiphanyAre you over the age of eighteen? y
Current characters in Baedal: n/a
In-Character Information
Character Name: Colonel Sebastian Moran
Username:
scopedconduitFandom: BBC's Sherlock
Played By: Richard Armitage
Original Character Section
Physical Description: Sebastian Moran is 38. He is tall and well-muscled, having served in the British Army (1st brigade of the RIFLES) for many years. He has dark hair and light eyes, as well as several tattoos he has collected over the years.
Sexuality: For the most part, Moran prefers women. Dark hair, light hair, it doesn't really matter to him. He's generally prone to avoid commitment, especially in a sexual sense. He's had several girlfriends, both at home and abroad. He has also experimented with men (one of whom was his second as a sniper in the Army), but it's never gone beyond minor groping.
World Information: Moran belongs in the world of the BBC series Sherlock. He is (based on the short stories by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle) the chief of staff for Jim Moriarty, called in to get his hands dirty now on only the most high importance jobs.
History: Sebastian Moran was born to Sir Augustus Moran, Companion in the Order of the Knights of Bath, and Rachel Moran in 1974. He was educated at an elite primary school before moving on to Eton. He graduated Oxford with a degree in jurisprudence.
After graduating in 1995, Moran enlisted in the Royal Green Jackets, with the British Royal Army. He was put in the third regiment. When the RGJ was restructed into the RIFLES, he became part of the first batallion. He served in the wars against Afghanistan and Iraq. After his service in Iraq, he volunteered again for Afghanistan in early 2008.
Moran spent 14 years in the Army, reaching the rank of lieutenant-colonel during active service, retiring only after he was forced into it by an ambush on the regiment he was traveling with in the middle of 2008, during his enlistment in Afghanistan. Moran, who was to join with another regiment and not currently on a sniping assignment, was shot three times in the chest and required major medical assistance to save his life. He and the few other survivors triede to fight but had to be rescued by another unit who heard their distress call.
Post-action, Moran was promoted to colonel for his attempts to hold off the ambushers and help his fellow soldiers. However, privately, his commanding officer told him that even after his physical therapy had him back on his feet, he needed to be cleared to return to action by a psychiatrist. Unfortunately, the first therapist Moran tried was not a good personality fit, and he rejected the whole thing.
Over the next six months, he let drinking, which had always been used as a solace, become a crutch, and he took more and more of his prescription pain pills. Waking up in a hospital bed and being told he'd drank a bottle of whiskey and downed a bottle of pain pills in about two hours' time was a wake-up call for Moran. With difficulty, he cut himself off both cold turkey, attending regular AA meetings (and an occasional NA meeting) and attempting therapy again.
The second try didn't go well, either. After two weeks of three sessions, Moran started to get text messages from a blocked number, offering him a job. After a session frayed his last nerve, he walked out on his therapist and replied to the strange texts, asking for details. Later that night, he met with Jim Moriarty.
Moriarty offered him extraordinary amounts of money for his work as a bodyguard. After two months, the pay went up, but so did requests. At first, it was threats. Acting as an enforcer. Then, it became theft. Whether getting information by chatting someone up or actually breaking into a place. Then, finally, it became murder. By that time, Moran had found his new purpose and felt thoroughly useful to Moriarty, the same way he had in the Army. He became Moriarty's assassin when the job called for the highest skill.
Powers: N/A
Talents/Abilities:: Moran is a crackshot. He is skilled with handguns and with rifles. As a sniper, his expertise is in making distance shots others might consider impossible, even with a scope. (Of course, this applies only to possible terrain and the maximum abilities of the gun.)
Personality: Sebastian Moran is rather like a German Shepherd trained to be a police dog.
He makes no secret of his physical strength (which for his world is fairly decent, as he is used to heavy lifting and some brawling) and will show his metaphorical teeth in an argument. He can be friendly when he's not on the job, but the moment his master gives the word, he can lunge into the attack. No loyalty is more improtant than that of his master. At one point, this was England and its Army, but their refusal to allow him back to war means his allegiance has shifted to Jim Moriarty.
Sebastian does try to, when sounding out new places, hide his current loyalty, often playing the part of the patriotic former soldier. He will admit to the flaws he wants people to know, such as having an addictive personality (to explain why he avoids heavy gambling and especially ever drinking again), but he will hide others, like his ability to kill without remorse. He displays a temper that isn't always real. Usually, the less something matters to his cover and sense of security, the more vocally he will get angry and maybe throw a punch. When it really matters, his anger is quieter, much more subtle and much more likely to involve someone getting seriously injured.
Moran sometimes downplays his intelligence. He doesn't tend to volunteer information about where he went to school or what he studied. He's much more likely to offer assistance via suggestions, particularly with people who are obviously smarter than he is or who show signs of thinking they are. when it comes to combat situations, he does try to assume control, simply because his military background makes him feel competent to do so. He favours individual action, as the Royal Green Jackets and RIFLES are a self-operating sort of unit and prefer their members to think individually rather than act as a whole.
Object: His sniper rifle, in its case with its scope.
Reason for playing: Admittedly, part of the reason I chose this character is because I'm a major fan of Moran in the ACD short story "Adventure of the Empty House," and I am utterly heartbroken he has not yet been on the show. So, taking the original canon and modern allowances that must be made, I modernised the character.
I want to bring him to this game in particularly because the dark atmosphere goes well with what he is, and I would love to see him adjust to the strange atmosphere around him. The stress of the world will definitely put him well out of his comfort zone, and he is a character who is often in control, so that will be interesting to see.
I'm not heavily commited to any particular plot arcs, but watching him make and break alliances ought to be fascinating. He is, basically, a well-trained police dog off leash and without his master in sight, and it's been some time since he's had full reign. So, I'm really interested in seeing how that will play out.
Gods: Gediron. Moran is a solider and wants to remain a soldier, which is why he took up with Moriarty so easily after the Army wouldn't have him any longer. Moran has no fear of bloodshed and, actually, quite enjoys the fight.
Writing Samples
Players may choose to write three of the four writing samples. Additionally, for two of the three samples applicants may substitute links to previously written roleplaying threads of no less than eight substantial replies. We reserve the right to ask for an additional sample if more information is required.
Probably unnecessary, but I'm going to go ahead and warn for heavy use of profanity. And a mention of suicide.
First-Person Network Post:
[Okay. For as weird as all this is? At least the mobile is something he can manage to use. Sure, sure, it's obviously not his and not totally what he's used to, but. It's like a gun. There are some parts they all have, and if you know one decently, you can figure most others out.]
Not sure who all can hear this. But this place? Is fucked up. Still want to know how I got here, but it doesn't look like anyone's sayin' much on that.
Shit. [He wants a drink. He really, really wants a drink. But, his luck, he'll turn the corner and run right into Jim. So, he'll settle for a vice Jim won't kill him for.]
Any good samaritan want to tell a guy where he can get a pack of cigarettes?
First-Person Journal Post:
Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.
I really, really hate this place. What the fuck am I supposed to do with this? Fucking deskwork. There've got to be other jobs in this place. Holy shit. Swear to God, if I'm stuck behind a fucking desk for too long? Putting a gun to my head pulling the fucking trigger. Maybe that's the way to get out of this place.
Jim'll kill me when I get back. If I'm lucky. My luck, he'll figure out a way to skin me and pour lemon juice on it or something. Fuck if I know. I really don't want to find out. Because he's not going to listen to this "I couldn't leave" bullshit. Christ.
I hate this fucking place.
Third-Person Action Post:
"Normal" people don't go looking for a fight. But, like Jim always says, Normal is boring. There's nothing else to do, nothing else he can bring himself to do. So when the chance came to dig his heels in and really piss someone off--
He even managed to make the guy punch first. Completely drunk, but it's not like Moran cares. It's someone who's stupid enough to want to fight. There's blood now, and the smell of it only drives him on more. He dodges, punches. A knee catches him in the stomach, and it feels almost as good as when his knuckles shatter the nose of his opponent. It's not a fair fight, he knows, but he doesn't care. He'll beat the shit out of a drunk any day of the week. It's good for him, freeing. Every sense is engaged on this moment. There are no worries except where the next blow is coming from.
All he sees is his opponent, though sometimes his mind does a quick sweep of the background and peripheral. Can't have any of his buddies stepping in and catching him off guard. But none of them are being that stupid. They're just letting their friend fight. Even when he goes down and Moran delivers one more hard blow to the jaw with the heel of his boot. He breathes out as the rage he'd fought with leaves.
Better. Much better.
Miscellaneous
Other: I don't think there's anything!