ORIGINAL UNIVERSE APPLICATION
YOU
NAME: Cat
AGE: over 21
JOURNAL:![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
travelistaa
RESERVE: Right here.
YOUR CHARACTER
NAME: Kara Thrace
JOURNAL:knowsmadness
FANDOM: Battlestar Galactica AGE: Guesstimate: 22.
APPEARANCE: Kara Thrace
CANON POINT: After the episode 'Scar'
MEMORY LOSS: No
WIKI/HISTORY: Link One, Link Two PERSONALITY:
"...one of television's most complex, ever-evolving characters..."
Cocky, hot headed and arrogant, Kara Thrace - call sign 'Starbuck' - is the best viper pilot in the fleet, and she knows it - and she has no problem making sure that you know it, too. She has no problem challenging authority, and often lands herself in the brig as a result of this. Her 'quick thinking' tends to run along the lines of 'act first and ask questions later', and has a track record of disciplinary actions a mile long. This 'quick thinking' has her outside the box, though, and she tends to excel at plans and tactics, picking out small details that no one else seems to see.
In addition to an extremely volatile personality, Kara has a excessive drinking problem, smokes like a chimney, gambles, and enjoys a whole lot of sex. More often than not, she can be seen in the lounge playing cards, drinking moonshine, and smoking a cigar. If she wins, she flaunts it. If she loses, she plays til she wins. Losing isn't really an option for Kara, in any aspect of her life.
Her early childhood was anything but standard -- as a youth, her mother abused her and justified it by telling Kara she was 'preparing' her for something great - her destiny. However, nothing Kara ever did was good enough. Her grades weren't good enough, her choices weren't good enough, and being the first in her family to become a commissioned officer wasn't good enough, either.
She decided to join the military in the first place after a sports injury prevented her from living her real dream - playing professional pyramid. She was incredibly good at this and was up for the pros, but she found a new passion after her knee gave out - flying. In the military, Kara finds more acceptance than she ever did when living at home, and as a result threw herself into her accomplishments and to rising up in rank despite repeated transgressions. Of course, this too wasn't good enough for Kara's mother, and upon being told that she 'was wasting her natural talent for flying', Kara stands up to her mother - who is dying of cancer - and flees, and never returns. Her mother dies in her apartment amidst stale cigarette butts and empty booze bottles, alone but not forgotten.
Unfortunately, this treatment led Kara to believe that she doesn't deserve anything good in life, and tends to think of herself as a type of cancer - a growth or malignant tumor that eats away at someone until they can take it no longer. She tends to assume that she only brings pain and suffering to anyone she comes in contact with, which leads her to become incredibly self destructive, coupled with an unhealthy amount of self-loathing. She pushes people away and will - either knowingly or unknowingly - push away anything positive in her life. She's bad at relationships and can't seem to remain faithful to anyone. She tells Lee Adama she loves him, and the very next morning she marries Sam Anders, the man she met on Caprica during her mission for President Roslin.
This is mentioned because the past haunts Kara, and despite the tough, rugged and rather grimy exterior that is portrayed Kara wears her heart completely on her sleeve. She's emotional, and terrible at bottling things in. If she's angry, you know it. If she's upset, it's all over her face. If she disagrees? She does it loudly and obnoxiously until you admit she's right or just throw her in the brig because she's still right.
Despite this, Kara actually has very little regard for her own life and is completely willing to die for her comrades. She constantly puts herself last and is without question loyal to the commander, a father-figure to her, though sometimes questions his actions and does things her own damn way. If she doesn't agree with something someone in command has to say, Kara will go against it if she thinks what she is doing is right. Despite very clear orders not to do so, Kara follows President Roslin's directive to go back to Caprica and retrieve the arrow of Apollo, because she truly believes it will aid the president in finding Earth. Kara agrees to go on this mission and takes the Cylon Raider she had captured in order to do so.
The mention of Laura Roslin, president of the Twelve Colonies (by circumstance only) leads into the more religious aspects of Battlestar Galactica. The show is deeply rooted in religion, though as opposed to monotheism it appears the twelve colonies worship something similar to the old gods and goddesses of Greek mythology. Kara has a verydeep-seated faith in the gods, and often prays in private. She goes against Adama (a man she looks at like a father) because of her faith, and the belief the Roslin, the 'dying leader', was going to lead them to safety and sanctuary. She also believes in the 'sanctity' of marriage, and refuses to divorce her husband Sam despite the fact she is actively cheating on him with Lee Adama later in the series. Lee tries to argue that she's breaking her vows by cheating, but Kara tells him she's just 'bending the rules'.
If Kara is hell bent on something, she will not let up on it until it is resolved. The previously mentioned mission to Caprica introduced Kara to a group of resistance fighters - a professional pyramid team - that survived because they had been training in the mountains. Kara must return to the Galactica and cannot take passengers, but vows to return. Upon this return, her request to rescue the group is denied and Kara is depressed - moreso than usual - and guilt stricken because she deels as if she has broken her word and failed. She assumes they are all dead, along with Sam, the 'leader' of sorts that she has fallen in 'love' (as much as Kara can love anyone) with. She's promoted to CAG on the newly discovered Pegasus, and it is here that she finally makes some headway into ending her self-destructive behaviors. Kara recklessly tries to take out Scar, a bitter Cylon raider with a vendetta, but at the last minute pulls away and sets up the kill for Kat - a semi-rival that's just as cocky and arrogant as Kara herself. In doing this, she gives up her own 'Top Gun' status, but it gives her some headway into ending her lifelong streak of self destruction.
Kara is what she is, and nothing more, nothing less. She can never pretend to be something she's not, and will never try to fake anyone out otherwise. Either she likes you or she doesn't, and once an opinion is formed it's damned difficult to change.
POWERS: Kara is human and despite her wanting to think she's boss and can do everything, she...can't. XD
RP SAMPLE:
Kara was drunk. Stupidly drunk, which wasn’t all that unusual for the young viper pilot but this was one of those exceptional occasions where Kara felt the need to really go hard or go home.
"Except there is no going home, is there?" She speaks her thoughts out loud, and tips the bottle in her hand before leaning back and pushing the two front legs of her chair off the ground. She snorted back a dry and caustic laugh that lacked humor and almost made her choke on her drink. "Nope, no going home, because the gods-damned toasters frakked it all up, didn't they?"
She takes a swig; a long one - a long, gulping and searing drink that scorches it's way down the lining of her throat before it pools in her belly. That’s what moonshine distilled on the Galactica did – it tore through your body and wrecked the lining of your throat and frakked up your insides. Everyone drank it anyway, because it’s there and it’s what they’ve got. No one likes it, it isn’t pretty, but it gets the job done. Another drink, and a long, slow burn that slowly worked its way from her core to her limbs settled in. It numbed her pain and anger and hate and rage but somehow fanned it and fueled her fire at the same time.
Drink, Kara has found, is both her best friend and her worst enemy. She supposed she would see which it would be tonight, when all was said and done.
The latter, she thought sourly as glazed hazel eyes focus on the mostly empty bottle in her hand. She lifts it, and with a swish and a click of her teeth on glass as she tries to find her mouth, she empties it of its contents before setting the bottle down hard, rattling the table and nearly dumping the bottle.
"Frak me," she mutters, pressing her palms to the table, sliding them outwards before resting her cheek against the cool metal, her eyes briefly closing as she allows herself one moment -- that's it, just one moment, because she doesn't have time for reminiscing or wondering about the ‘what if's’ -- of reflection.
"Frakkin'....birthdays." She snarls to herself, before shoving herself up and to her feet. She rights herself, rolls her shoulders and roughly brushes the back of her hand across her lips to clear away the excess alcohol that had dribbled down her chin. She reeked of smoke and hard liquor, but Kara didn’t care. Today – tonight – wasn’t for caring. It was for getting drunk, and forgetting her past.
"Happy birthday, Starbuck." A voice pipes up from across the room where a pilot in training sat, looking at her with a mixture of terror and awe. A dawning realization flickers across Starbucks face; she hadn’t been alone in the pilot’s lounge, and this moron thought it was her birthday. Kara scowls at the trainee, who draws back but keeps a set expression. Kara has to admire her bravado.
Still, she’s got her own front to maintain. They all did. No one respected you if you a pitiful, weak thing that went crying in a corner somewhere at every rough turn. They’d all be dead if their viper pilots acted like that kind of idiot.
"Not mine," she snaps, irritated. “Don’t you have somethin’ you should be doing?” She doesn’t wait for an answer, and instead heads out the door, arrogant swagger automatically turned on, even if it's a little shaky in its execution.
No, it's not Kara's birthday. Not today. That's in a few months, not that she tells people or talks about it. Doesn't matter. Not much in this frakkin' world does anymore – except maybe Apollo, and ‘that dead guy’ she was still so hung up on.
Feet take her down the hall of their own accord, an awkward shuffle that has her bouncing off more than one of Galactica’s cool and rather unforgiving walls, and Kara doesn't even know she's standing at the large memorial until the pictures are there right in front of her, smiling faces of the dead mocking her in their permanent, fixed smiles.
"No, not my birthday," she mumbles, pressing a hand against the shiny papers. “It’s hers.”
Hers. Not Kara’s, but her mother’s -- Socrata Thrace.
Forehead to the wall of pictures, Kara allowed herself one tear -- one, for all the hurt and pain and anger and regret associated with that one woman that she hated and loved all her life; her mother. Her voice is quiet and composed as she fists that tear away, and she straightens, and fishes deep into the pocket of her BDU pants, pulling out an old, faded picture. Kara stared at it, thumbing the unsmiling face before she pinned it to the wall, her eyes staring but not really seeing.
“…Happy birthday, Momma.”
YOU
NAME: Cat
AGE: over 21
JOURNAL:
travelistaaRESERVE: Right here.
YOUR CHARACTER
NAME: Kara Thrace
JOURNAL:
knowsmadnessFANDOM: Battlestar Galactica AGE: Guesstimate: 22.
APPEARANCE: Kara Thrace
CANON POINT: After the episode 'Scar'
MEMORY LOSS: No
WIKI/HISTORY: Link One, Link Two PERSONALITY:
"...one of television's most complex, ever-evolving characters..."
Cocky, hot headed and arrogant, Kara Thrace - call sign 'Starbuck' - is the best viper pilot in the fleet, and she knows it - and she has no problem making sure that you know it, too. She has no problem challenging authority, and often lands herself in the brig as a result of this. Her 'quick thinking' tends to run along the lines of 'act first and ask questions later', and has a track record of disciplinary actions a mile long. This 'quick thinking' has her outside the box, though, and she tends to excel at plans and tactics, picking out small details that no one else seems to see.
In addition to an extremely volatile personality, Kara has a excessive drinking problem, smokes like a chimney, gambles, and enjoys a whole lot of sex. More often than not, she can be seen in the lounge playing cards, drinking moonshine, and smoking a cigar. If she wins, she flaunts it. If she loses, she plays til she wins. Losing isn't really an option for Kara, in any aspect of her life.
Her early childhood was anything but standard -- as a youth, her mother abused her and justified it by telling Kara she was 'preparing' her for something great - her destiny. However, nothing Kara ever did was good enough. Her grades weren't good enough, her choices weren't good enough, and being the first in her family to become a commissioned officer wasn't good enough, either.
She decided to join the military in the first place after a sports injury prevented her from living her real dream - playing professional pyramid. She was incredibly good at this and was up for the pros, but she found a new passion after her knee gave out - flying. In the military, Kara finds more acceptance than she ever did when living at home, and as a result threw herself into her accomplishments and to rising up in rank despite repeated transgressions. Of course, this too wasn't good enough for Kara's mother, and upon being told that she 'was wasting her natural talent for flying', Kara stands up to her mother - who is dying of cancer - and flees, and never returns. Her mother dies in her apartment amidst stale cigarette butts and empty booze bottles, alone but not forgotten.
Unfortunately, this treatment led Kara to believe that she doesn't deserve anything good in life, and tends to think of herself as a type of cancer - a growth or malignant tumor that eats away at someone until they can take it no longer. She tends to assume that she only brings pain and suffering to anyone she comes in contact with, which leads her to become incredibly self destructive, coupled with an unhealthy amount of self-loathing. She pushes people away and will - either knowingly or unknowingly - push away anything positive in her life. She's bad at relationships and can't seem to remain faithful to anyone. She tells Lee Adama she loves him, and the very next morning she marries Sam Anders, the man she met on Caprica during her mission for President Roslin.
This is mentioned because the past haunts Kara, and despite the tough, rugged and rather grimy exterior that is portrayed Kara wears her heart completely on her sleeve. She's emotional, and terrible at bottling things in. If she's angry, you know it. If she's upset, it's all over her face. If she disagrees? She does it loudly and obnoxiously until you admit she's right or just throw her in the brig because she's still right.
Despite this, Kara actually has very little regard for her own life and is completely willing to die for her comrades. She constantly puts herself last and is without question loyal to the commander, a father-figure to her, though sometimes questions his actions and does things her own damn way. If she doesn't agree with something someone in command has to say, Kara will go against it if she thinks what she is doing is right. Despite very clear orders not to do so, Kara follows President Roslin's directive to go back to Caprica and retrieve the arrow of Apollo, because she truly believes it will aid the president in finding Earth. Kara agrees to go on this mission and takes the Cylon Raider she had captured in order to do so.
The mention of Laura Roslin, president of the Twelve Colonies (by circumstance only) leads into the more religious aspects of Battlestar Galactica. The show is deeply rooted in religion, though as opposed to monotheism it appears the twelve colonies worship something similar to the old gods and goddesses of Greek mythology. Kara has a verydeep-seated faith in the gods, and often prays in private. She goes against Adama (a man she looks at like a father) because of her faith, and the belief the Roslin, the 'dying leader', was going to lead them to safety and sanctuary. She also believes in the 'sanctity' of marriage, and refuses to divorce her husband Sam despite the fact she is actively cheating on him with Lee Adama later in the series. Lee tries to argue that she's breaking her vows by cheating, but Kara tells him she's just 'bending the rules'.
If Kara is hell bent on something, she will not let up on it until it is resolved. The previously mentioned mission to Caprica introduced Kara to a group of resistance fighters - a professional pyramid team - that survived because they had been training in the mountains. Kara must return to the Galactica and cannot take passengers, but vows to return. Upon this return, her request to rescue the group is denied and Kara is depressed - moreso than usual - and guilt stricken because she deels as if she has broken her word and failed. She assumes they are all dead, along with Sam, the 'leader' of sorts that she has fallen in 'love' (as much as Kara can love anyone) with. She's promoted to CAG on the newly discovered Pegasus, and it is here that she finally makes some headway into ending her self-destructive behaviors. Kara recklessly tries to take out Scar, a bitter Cylon raider with a vendetta, but at the last minute pulls away and sets up the kill for Kat - a semi-rival that's just as cocky and arrogant as Kara herself. In doing this, she gives up her own 'Top Gun' status, but it gives her some headway into ending her lifelong streak of self destruction.
Kara is what she is, and nothing more, nothing less. She can never pretend to be something she's not, and will never try to fake anyone out otherwise. Either she likes you or she doesn't, and once an opinion is formed it's damned difficult to change.
POWERS: Kara is human and despite her wanting to think she's boss and can do everything, she...can't. XD
RP SAMPLE:
Kara was drunk. Stupidly drunk, which wasn’t all that unusual for the young viper pilot but this was one of those exceptional occasions where Kara felt the need to really go hard or go home.
"Except there is no going home, is there?" She speaks her thoughts out loud, and tips the bottle in her hand before leaning back and pushing the two front legs of her chair off the ground. She snorted back a dry and caustic laugh that lacked humor and almost made her choke on her drink. "Nope, no going home, because the gods-damned toasters frakked it all up, didn't they?"
She takes a swig; a long one - a long, gulping and searing drink that scorches it's way down the lining of her throat before it pools in her belly. That’s what moonshine distilled on the Galactica did – it tore through your body and wrecked the lining of your throat and frakked up your insides. Everyone drank it anyway, because it’s there and it’s what they’ve got. No one likes it, it isn’t pretty, but it gets the job done. Another drink, and a long, slow burn that slowly worked its way from her core to her limbs settled in. It numbed her pain and anger and hate and rage but somehow fanned it and fueled her fire at the same time.
Drink, Kara has found, is both her best friend and her worst enemy. She supposed she would see which it would be tonight, when all was said and done.
The latter, she thought sourly as glazed hazel eyes focus on the mostly empty bottle in her hand. She lifts it, and with a swish and a click of her teeth on glass as she tries to find her mouth, she empties it of its contents before setting the bottle down hard, rattling the table and nearly dumping the bottle.
"Frak me," she mutters, pressing her palms to the table, sliding them outwards before resting her cheek against the cool metal, her eyes briefly closing as she allows herself one moment -- that's it, just one moment, because she doesn't have time for reminiscing or wondering about the ‘what if's’ -- of reflection.
"Frakkin'....birthdays." She snarls to herself, before shoving herself up and to her feet. She rights herself, rolls her shoulders and roughly brushes the back of her hand across her lips to clear away the excess alcohol that had dribbled down her chin. She reeked of smoke and hard liquor, but Kara didn’t care. Today – tonight – wasn’t for caring. It was for getting drunk, and forgetting her past.
"Happy birthday, Starbuck." A voice pipes up from across the room where a pilot in training sat, looking at her with a mixture of terror and awe. A dawning realization flickers across Starbucks face; she hadn’t been alone in the pilot’s lounge, and this moron thought it was her birthday. Kara scowls at the trainee, who draws back but keeps a set expression. Kara has to admire her bravado.
Still, she’s got her own front to maintain. They all did. No one respected you if you a pitiful, weak thing that went crying in a corner somewhere at every rough turn. They’d all be dead if their viper pilots acted like that kind of idiot.
"Not mine," she snaps, irritated. “Don’t you have somethin’ you should be doing?” She doesn’t wait for an answer, and instead heads out the door, arrogant swagger automatically turned on, even if it's a little shaky in its execution.
No, it's not Kara's birthday. Not today. That's in a few months, not that she tells people or talks about it. Doesn't matter. Not much in this frakkin' world does anymore – except maybe Apollo, and ‘that dead guy’ she was still so hung up on.
Feet take her down the hall of their own accord, an awkward shuffle that has her bouncing off more than one of Galactica’s cool and rather unforgiving walls, and Kara doesn't even know she's standing at the large memorial until the pictures are there right in front of her, smiling faces of the dead mocking her in their permanent, fixed smiles.
"No, not my birthday," she mumbles, pressing a hand against the shiny papers. “It’s hers.”
Hers. Not Kara’s, but her mother’s -- Socrata Thrace.
Forehead to the wall of pictures, Kara allowed herself one tear -- one, for all the hurt and pain and anger and regret associated with that one woman that she hated and loved all her life; her mother. Her voice is quiet and composed as she fists that tear away, and she straightens, and fishes deep into the pocket of her BDU pants, pulling out an old, faded picture. Kara stared at it, thumbing the unsmiling face before she pinned it to the wall, her eyes staring but not really seeing.
“…Happy birthday, Momma.”
Leave a comment