Application Samples: 3rd person Bela Talbot Third-Person Sample: Getting her hands on the locket had been a bother to say the least and with a buyer that was refusing to pay the full price Bela was feeling her patience running short. Really, she provided a service and items that no one else could come by and yet there was always some rich and pompous ass who thought they could refuse to pay what she demanded or try and intimidate her into lowering the price. There was no way that was going to happen, a girl had to be able to make a living some how after all.
An angry buzzing drew her attention away from the tacky object, picking her phone up she saw one of her regulars name blinking and found herself grinning.
"Yes." Her voice was smooth but business-like, much as if she knew what the person on the other side of the line was going to say even before he did. She was a woman with a goal after all and she wasn't going to compromise with anyone over it. "As a matter of fact I do." Crossing her legs she started tapping her fingers on her knee as she smirked at the locket. It seemed the rumors were already flying around about her being in possession of it. "I see, well I want one point two for it or I'm taking it to another buyer. Call me back within an hour." Snapping the phone shut she tapped it against her chin and with a confident smirk got off of the couch - giving the locket another look she left it on the couch table, not only was it cursed but really, the sorcerer who had made had no taste what so ever when it came to jewelry. The sooner she would be able to get rid of it the better.
Okay, so what if she didn't have another buyer for it. But still, she didn't feel worried, she knew her clientèle, they were a greedy bunch willing to pay just about any price she demanded and besides what kind of business woman would she be if she was honest with them, knowing they were the sole bidder usually made them think they could get away with paying less and Bela Talbot was NOT a woman that would ever settle for less.
As she was just about to make herself a cup of coffee Bela felt her phone vibrate in her pocket but chose to ignore it for a while, it would make her seem a bit too eager if she answered by the first two rings. By the third one though she picked up, it was the original client who had asked her to acquire the locket to begin with. "Well hello, I was beginning to wonder when you would decide to call." Arrogance tainted her voice and with a deep smirk lodged on her face she glanced out the window, her backside coming to rest against the kitchen counter. "Yes as a matter of fact I do. But the price has gone up. I want one point five."
Bela rolled her eyes, completely unaffected by the tirade of threats that came down over the line, people and their threats – why did they even bother? Nothing worked as well as money to get what you wanted anyway. "Now look here, I know we said one million but there seems to be quite a few others that are willing to pay more for it, I can't guarantee that it will be yours for anything less than one point five." One point two or one point five, either way it was starting to sound like she might get adequately compensated for the troubles she'd gone through in order to get her hands on it.
Revy "Two-Hands" Third-Person Sample: It was just past 3 in the afternoon as the grenade was lobbed in through the window and not long after it hit the floor a thick gray smoke began filling the apartment. Up until that time the day had actually been pretty damn nice if you'd asked Revy. No birds waking her up, and no gun poking her back either (that happened more often than she liked but she still refused to sleep without them). There was cold beer in the fridge and some rather fresh pizza left on the counter and her newest edition of Playboy had arrived. She was had been busy flipping through it when someone decided that she'd had enough of a good day and lobbed a grenade through their window.
Couldn't haven been more than three second after the thick smoke started filling the room that the front door had been kicked open and, judging by the footsteps, four men made their way inside - gun drawn. Revy could see the metal catch the light that still filtered in through the window. Dropping her magazine she grabbed the gun that was sitting on the coffee table as she rolled off the couch, shooting off two rounds before disappearing underneath the table. And that was what started the hail of bullets that followed, well either that or the men's disappointment as one of their own hit the ground with a thump. Didn't matter much, the outcome was still the same. Four shot up, and still bleeding bodies by the door and an apartment filled with bullet holes and slowly dissipating smoke.
"Che!" Revy kicked the body closest to her as she stuffed her gun down the back in waistline of her pants. The still hot barrel of the gun burning her skin upon which she gave the dead body yet another kick. "Couldn't have picked a better fucking day to come barging in like that you fucking twits?" Knowing that it didn't really do any good since they were already dead she couldn't help but kicking the man once more before walking back to the now destroyed table.
Revy threw some of the pieces to the side as she searched for her pack of cigarettes that had been forgotten in the firefight. With such a good start of the day it was almost not surprising that something like this would happen. Nothing ever fucking went smoothly in her god damned life. Finding her smokes she shook out one and stuck it between her lips before starting the search for a lighter. There had been one in her pack but the pack had a bullet hole straight through it so the lighter was probably off somewhere else. With her fucking luck it wouldn't be surprising if the god damn fucking thing had broke too. "Stupid, cock sucking, retarded, drunk-fucking, faggot-jerking, moronic, dick headed, ugly-ass motherfuckers."
Finally finding her lighter Revy slumped down in the now barely standing couch with a huff, she was not in the mood. She probably should drag the bodies out of here before the blood started to stain the floor but until she'd had a smoke she just couldn't care less. Picking up the lighter there was a distinct click, followed by another and yet another one before, thoroughly pissed Revy flung the small offending metal lighter against the wall where it hit with a thump barely audible under the string of curses that was emanating from the couch.
Michael Lee Third-Person Sample: His eyes were fixed on the monitor in front of him, text flying past as he dug through yet another file, the obscurity of some things never failed to amaze him. He copied a piece of text and pasted it to another document and promptly reached for some crisps which he munched on as his head started bobbing along with the beat of the music blaring at him through his earpieces. Out of the corner of his eye he noted someone enter the room but didn't react to it, instead he stopped for a second, frowned and then went back to typing. His job would be so much easier if everything was stored electronically. Reaching around he grabbed a pen and jolted down a series of numbers on a piece of paper, he'd have to check that part later.
"Michael, I need your findings on my desk in an hour." he managed to pick up on the voice, barely drowned out by the music. That was the worst thing about a new work space, people who didn't know not to bother him while he worked. He ignored the person behind him and kept typing, one hand dancing across the keys as the other went for the bag of crisps. His eyes never left the screen, he could however feel how he was being stared at.
There was nothing that annoyed him quite like people intentionally or unintentionally distracting him. Michael didn’t like distractions, him always ended up being as uncooperative as he possibly could to people that annoyed and distracted him. "Michael!" He didn't bat an eyelash at the shrillness of her voice but his top lip twitched a little.
"I heard you the first time," came the drawled out response and leaning back in his seat he glanced up and back over his shoulder at the annoyed woman behind him. His slightly sour look was replaced by one of mild surprise and then he smiled. "I don't like being distracted from work, not even by a pretty lady like yourself. If you want me to work faster, letting me take you out to dinner is a much better way." He could see just how annoyed she was and his little comment didn't really seem to make it better but he could have sworn he saw the corners of her lips tug upwards, ever so slightly and as she stormed off his grin just grew.
"So, that's a yes then?!" He shouted after her, letting his eyes linger a bit longer than they had before he turned back to his work, and truth be told, maybe if all the distractions looked like that he wouldn't mind them so much.
Kula Diamond Third-Person Sample: "Kula, what are you doing?" Kula just stared out the window, any time now, any time. She knew it, there was something fishy going on. She pushed aside the coffee pot and pile of news papers that suddenly seemed to be in her way. She didn't reach for the potted plant sitting on the windowsill though, it was her ally in this battle.
"Kula." She was crawling up on the table, one leg dangling off the side of it as the other kicked freely in the air when she peered out at the front gate through the poor potted plant who had been upgrades from pretty green thing in the window to good camouflage. Kula was very oblivious of the strange looks her surrogate family was giving her and probably wouldn't have understood them even if she had noticed them. It was just a matter of time, if there was one thing about him Kula knew, then that was it, he was always on time.
"What's wrong with her?" She barely registered Maxima talking in the background and whatever Diana responded was drowned out as she spotted him turn the corner and approach. The dark blue suit stood out from the rest of the street even if it wasn't light or anything, the light trimmings on the suit just made it so very visible. There was just something so fishy about him, his suit and lets not even mention the bag. The bag which seemed endless and in which he kept strange things and dirty magazines. At least that was what she had been told when she'd found one, they were bad and he had left them, it was just one of his many plans that she had since started destroying. And almost as if on cue he looked up and Kula dove down, trying to hide behind the small plant. Her eyes narrowed a bit and when he started walking again she glanced back over her shoulder and looked at Diana and Maxim, her voice not much more than a whisper;
"The postman is out to get us."
Abbey Gill Third-Person Sample: You've heard the saying 'Curiosity killed the cat' haven't you, well Abbey wasn't very catty nor was she ever all that good at listening to wisdoms that passed through lines or just old wise sayings, besides she was still very much alive and if her curiosity hadn't killed her yet, it probably wouldn't. At least so she reasoned when she curled up on bed and peered curiously at the box, the tag just said 'From: Anonymous' and the heart... nope, didn't work as much of a clue. But who would... Hey it was pretty at least and well, she wasn't one to keep her curiosity under wraps so leaning closer she opened the top box, and instantly regretted it.
The dye exploding all over her face made her jerk back, flailing her arms and shoving the suddenly very offensive box away from her. Scrambling to get away from it Abbey didn't think twice about moving back, well not until there suddenly was no more bed to crawl over and throwing her arms up in the air, flailing wildly and grabbing at anything she could reach to keep her from, rather fruitlessly it must be added, falling on her ass, knocking the back of her head against the wall below the window.
"Ouch." Now that had been a nasty surprise and sitting there on the floor Abbey swiped at her face with her hands trying to rub away the dye and only managing to smearing it further and adding some of it to her hands as well. "Not a good way to start the day." Groaning loudly she scrambled up on her feet and throwing the offensive box a glare wandered into the bathroom to clean up.
The bright pink dye all over her face caused a spark of panic to rise and diving for the sink she started scrubbing at her face and hands. The panic slowly rising as it was becoming more and more evident that the dye would not go away and slamming her hands down on the sink she stared at herself in the mirror, skin raw and tender and PINK, and she promptly let loose a loud shrill scream. This was SO the worst start of a day ever!