Post by .alex on Sept 1, 2010 14:32:40 GMT -5
WAYLON JONES
Killer Croc
so what if you can see
the darker side of me?
And won't you think I'm pretty[/size]
name;; Waylon Jones : : What does it matter t'me? All I knows is that my Mama gave it to me, an' that's good enough fer me.
nickname;; Killer Croc : : Is you blind?!
age;; 36
date of birth;; August 27, 1974
gender;; Male
occupation;; Criminal : : Well, I like t'call it a profeshhional food critic.
sexualorienation;; Heterosexual
When I'm standing top the bright lit city[/size]
hair;;
Again, is you blind?! Does it look like I have any fuckin' hair?! I'm thinkin' those eyes would be better use spread like jelly on my toast.
eyes;;
In the early stages of the disease, Waylon used to have quite large and dark eyes. Thanks to good ol' evolution, his eyes are now mere slits. A bit of the enlarged, red iris peeks through his eyelids, along with his vertical stripe of an iris. They tend to glow brightly in the dark. : : You best hope they don't meet yours.
height;;
8' 9''
weight;;
310 lbs
build;;
The amount of muscle he has is enough that it could deemed unhealthy. Big mounds of flesh bulge from his scales at any chance they can get; you would think he's on steroids.
piercings;;
none
tattoos;;
none
style;;
Croc isn't exactly very aware of the fashion world. He would happily run around naked if it weren't for the issue of him being recognized by authorities. So whenever he does retreat from Gotham Bay to--say--devour a rat that owes him money, he naturally has to wear a very large, bay-colored trench coat with those stretched, ripped shorts that he's had since he was 12.
And I'll take your hand and pick you up[/size]
favorites;;
+swimming+
+moneymoneymoney+
+being in control+
+baking himself in the sun+
+a good chase+
+peter pan+
+food; the kind that squirms in his tummy+
hates;;
-batman-
-cold weather-
-liars-
-those pesky police-
-intellectual talk-
-shrinks-
-hunger-
strengths;;
overall strength
speed
sense of smell
thick skin
stealthy in the water
weaknesses;;
concrete-thinker
no peripheral vision
thought-process often blurred by rage
slow-learner
extremely noticeable during the day
quirks/habits;;
He has a very bad habit of picking at his scales. More often than not, there will be a few missing from his neck or cheek.
Croc grinds his teeth a lot, particularly in his sleep. Luckily for him, a new set grow in each month or so.
Whenever having to pronounce a word with a "sh" sound, he will often draw it out. i.e. "I shhould pick up the laundry.", "Mother mashhed the corn meal.", or "You shhould shhut up or I'm going to poke your eyes out with my tongue."
He also has a very peculiar laugh, perhaps from the morphing of his mouth and vocal chords. Instead of your typical "ha ha", he makes a "herk". It almost sounds as if he's being strangled mid-laugh.
goals/dreams;;
Become a crime Kingpin
Get rich quick
Eat bat with a side of bird
Find Pop
Be normal
overall personality;;
He's very short-tempered, as almost anyone can see. If you're meeting him for the first-time, odds are it'll also be your last. It doesn't take a lot to set him off. Even a weird look can make him go bonkers, though that's all he's been given his entire life. In addition to this, he has a nasty habit of going into cursing-fits whenever he becomes particularly enraged.
Croc now lacks all the empathy that he used to possess. He sees it this way; why should he try to relate to someone when the whole world didn't try for him? He sees himself as a very unique case; can you blame him? i.e. Q: "Have you found my dog?" A: "Yes, but you're going to have to wait 8 hours before I can give him back." More accurately, he has a woe-is-me attitude, taking pity on himself time to time. Thinking of getting an ounce of mercy from him? Not a chance.
What was human about him you can forget about. As the disease carries on, you can only find him become more and more primal. It's only a matter of time before he's crawling on all fours, snapping at birds flying by, and rolling around naked (though he does the latter occasionally). When it comes to ruling the crime scene, Croc is incredibly ambitious. Since nothing else has seemed to work out with him, why not try being a Kingpin? He certainly has the intimidation factor down, but it's questionable whether he has the necessary brains.
And keep you there so you can see[/size]
father;;
Amos Jones {Businessman;would-be-60s;possibly alive?}
mother;;
Sabine Jones {Unemployed;died in her 40s}
siblings;;
Herk, after me, Mama was extra careful.
relatives;;
Dead, alive, I don't care.
pets;;
none
hometown;;
mumblegrumble, Louisiana
currentlyliving;;
Gotham Bay/Sewage system
history;;
Why you so interested? Let's make a deal; if I tells you what happened t'me, I get'ta eat'cha! Herk, herk, herk.. Can't back out now, kid, so just sit back and relax. I like my steak tender.
So I was born somewheres in Louisiana; it was just me and Mama. When Mama did talk to me, she often told me Pop was a no-good man. They was in love, but oops! Then I came along! Pop had t'go back t'his business world in the big city when I was 'bout four months; a lie, Mama always told me. He promised t'come back, but he never did. Mama always told me t'find him someday, and as much as Mama was Mama, I ain't goin' back on that. Do you know where my daddy is?
That's when things started to go crazy on us. I started growin' this big scales and my skin turned this shhimmery green you see here! We didn't know what I was becomin'; croc, gator, or snake. We went to the docs, naturally, and they said I had some kinda disease. It had some bullshhit medical name that I didn't care t' remember. I told her I was jus' the same, though! It's still Waylon, Mama. But that bitch didn't care. I was a monster; her monster. Herk, whenever her friends came over--an' she had many--shhe just told me go right down to the cellar. Shhe told me right there if I was an animal; I was gonna be treated like one.
There was a rare occashhion in which Mama was kind. Shhe'd allowed me t'watch a video her friend has bought me some time ago. The name was simple enough, Peter Pan. It was a kid's movie but I liked it. It had a strange looking creature, like me; he wasn't being laughed at! He wasn't being called a freak by that pirate. I asked myself why, and I finally figured it out. It was because they were afraid of him. And lemme ask you, is it better to be loved or feared?
Shhe threw me out of the house not long after, and I didn't dare t'go back there. There I spent most my time with the gators in the swamps, wrestlin' them til' they squealed! No, I didn't think they was the same as me. Maybe I was even jealous of them. At least they looked how they was supposed t'. I was just a freak of nature, an' for a while I let other people see that. Yes, I joined a travelin' freak shhow; them crowds couldn't get enough! They called me a snake, a gator, a croc, a lizard; they never called me a man. Never...a man.
I wasn't a man anymore, not then at least. It was damn fine with me; I didn't want t'be no man! I was an animal, and I was going t'like it. Naturally, animals have bigger appetites then you people. They fed me, but it wasn't enough. I got hungrier and hungrier. I was tired of bein' hungry; I left that nasty place with the little money I did get. I ran to the place where I first found out that I was just an animal. My old house--My Mama's house.
You shhoulda seen the look on her face when shhe saw me! "Waylon! Waylon!" Shhe wouldn't stop shhouting, like shhe was happy t'see me. How could shhe be happy to see her little monster? I knew shhe was lying, an' I hate liars. Her biggest mistake was when shhe went t'huge me. It was so easy after that, y'see! It was a quick little snap and shhe was done. Boy, was I hungry right about then; I was wonderin' how it would taste. How do people taste? Let's just say I was even hungrier after her. Imagine that! My Mama--my first yummy dishin' of people!
'Course her friends noticed shhe was missin', so I had to get out of their quick. I went up north, figuring it was the only way I could go. That's how I ended up in your little city, Gotham. Your sewers is mighty filthy, you know that? Filled with lots of trash, lots of people. Construction crew is so gamy. Anyways, I had stayed down there for a while, watchin' from below. I saw how your business men worked--your criminals worked. Your organized crime was amazin'. You're all workin' like the pistons of an engine, you just keep pumping.
I can't go out looking like I do, so I quickly ripped off a big enough trench coat from an unlucky man. Herk! Shhould of seen his face. When I had the right kind a dressin', I started to build up a small group of criminals. It wasn't too hard, since most of them did everything I said. Money rolled in like I never seen it before! It came in big wads, y'know? Giant wads of the green stuff. I was starting to like this kinda life. That was when that Bat came in. He thinks himself so good, don't he? He thinks he can prance around, put me in that awful building Arkham, and run away.
Well I knows his scent. I promise you; he ain't gettin' away next time.
But I think I'll have you as an appetizer.
As long as you're alive and care[/size]
name;; Alex/Shoes (it's a pretty old name i've had : P ))
age;; 14. Yeah I'm young.
experience;; hmm 2 years?
activity;; once school starts I'll be able to get one fri sat and sun.
whyyoujoined;; I was on neo, bored, and this seemed interesting lol.
phrase;; Killer Croc doesn't care that Pluto is plotting revenge. He's still hungry.
example;;
He lay on the muddy banks of Gotham Bay for quite some time. Scaly arms were caked in dry mud, hardened by the blazing, sun. It was unclear if the creature that lay there was man or beast. Suddenly, his eyes opened, pupils turning into mere slits. His sleep had made him hungry. Very hungry. The beast pushed itself up into a crouching position. Sniffing quite loudly, he turned his head to the little meals that were playing in the distance.
Gracefully, he slipped himself into the murky water. A thick, powerful tail acted as a rudder as he glided through the bay. His eyes darted this way and that, seeking the light that peaked through the water's surface. Up ahead, he could see the faint outline of a slender, slightly curved figure. He laughed. That was not enough. He searched the water more; his hunger was growing. Pulling himself to the surface a bit, he could see an incredible bulbous and malformed shadow. There were too many layers and rolls to count. That was more like it.
Swiftly, the beast swam itself under the figure. The chubby legs dangled just above his head. It was very foolish of them to go swimming in the bay. Hadn't they heard about the crocodile attacks? With a giant swoop of his tail, he slammed the stout man across the back. He had caught him incredibly off-guard. Rough, clawed hands seized him by the ankle, dragging him under quickly. The poor man didn't know what hit him! The creature dragged him further from he surface; the small rays of light faded out quickly. He could hear the man screaming underwater.
He ignored it.
The beast was famished! He pulled his meal to his jaws, swiftly breaking the leg off his victim. Another scream. He pulled him down to meet his face. The horror in his prey's eyes was undeniable. The man was afraid. The creature was acknowledged. He certainly wouldn't be called a freak how. His jaws were opened to an astonishing extent; the man's head was quickly sucked in. His meal was devoured in a matter of minutes.
He began to stealthily swim away from the bloody mess. His hands were covered in the red liquid for a few moments, but quickly washed off into the water. Slithering back onto his bank near the giant drainage pipe, the beast licked his sharp teeth. His trousers were soaked, but he was very used to it by now. It became something of the norm to him. He would continue to take this day easy; he would bask in the sun and just let the mud dry on his scales. Then maybe it would look like he had skin. For now, though, the beast was satisfied.
Killer Croc had been fed.
Gracefully, he slipped himself into the murky water. A thick, powerful tail acted as a rudder as he glided through the bay. His eyes darted this way and that, seeking the light that peaked through the water's surface. Up ahead, he could see the faint outline of a slender, slightly curved figure. He laughed. That was not enough. He searched the water more; his hunger was growing. Pulling himself to the surface a bit, he could see an incredible bulbous and malformed shadow. There were too many layers and rolls to count. That was more like it.
Swiftly, the beast swam itself under the figure. The chubby legs dangled just above his head. It was very foolish of them to go swimming in the bay. Hadn't they heard about the crocodile attacks? With a giant swoop of his tail, he slammed the stout man across the back. He had caught him incredibly off-guard. Rough, clawed hands seized him by the ankle, dragging him under quickly. The poor man didn't know what hit him! The creature dragged him further from he surface; the small rays of light faded out quickly. He could hear the man screaming underwater.
He ignored it.
The beast was famished! He pulled his meal to his jaws, swiftly breaking the leg off his victim. Another scream. He pulled him down to meet his face. The horror in his prey's eyes was undeniable. The man was afraid. The creature was acknowledged. He certainly wouldn't be called a freak how. His jaws were opened to an astonishing extent; the man's head was quickly sucked in. His meal was devoured in a matter of minutes.
He began to stealthily swim away from the bloody mess. His hands were covered in the red liquid for a few moments, but quickly washed off into the water. Slithering back onto his bank near the giant drainage pipe, the beast licked his sharp teeth. His trousers were soaked, but he was very used to it by now. It became something of the norm to him. He would continue to take this day easy; he would bask in the sun and just let the mud dry on his scales. Then maybe it would look like he had skin. For now, though, the beast was satisfied.
Killer Croc had been fed.
