Ace Ventura (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
acesarewild) wrote2013-08-29 08:13 pm
acesarewild) wrote2013-08-29 08:13 pm
Entry tags:
Application for Paradisa
PERSONAL
NAME: Ang D.
PERSONAL JOURNAL:chartharsis
EMAIL: msfeistus@gmail.com
AIM: chartharsis
CURRENT CHARACTERS: Mark Hunter, Gale Hawthorne, Olivia "M" Mansfield, Barney Stinson
CHARACTER
CHARACTER NAME: Ace Ventura
SERIES: Ace Ventura: Pet Detective
CANON POINT: During Ace Ventura: When Nature Calls, directly after going over the waterfall.
LOSS: If anyone approaches him and says they have a case for him, he is obligated to take it, whether or not it involves animals. Where he would normally say "I don't do humans", he'll find himself verbally accepting, instead.
ABOUT THE CHARACTER:
People's first impression of Ace is often that he's one hundred percent insane - and with a slight margin of error, they'd likely be right. From his loud clothes to his even louder mouth, he's a poster boy for marching to the beat of a different drummer. He says what he thinks, with little to no brain-to-mouth filter and absolutely no regard for tact. His manners are atrocious, his driving even more so, and his opinions are as strong as the hairspray that keeps his infamous hairdo in place. He's as wild as the animals he helps find and protect ... but when you roll that all up together into one concise package, as little sense as it makes, it somehow explains just why he's so good at what he does. Ace's madness is, in fact, his method.
His individuality is his trademark - he acts as his own advertising. Living in a city where not many people think that a missing animal is worth mentioning among murders, drug busts, and other more high-profile crimes, he knows that he has to stand out some other way to call attention to his cause. Standing amid a crowd of blue uniforms, the Hawaiian shirts and striped pants he prefers stick out like a sore thumb, and ensure that he gets - at least initially - the attention he needs to even keep his business afloat. His disregard for tact and manners are off-putting and abrasive, but he's more interested in the facts surrounding a case and the motives and details of the people involved than in being their friends ... not to mention that the way someone reacts to an insult or some other abrasive remark can say volumes about what kind of person they are. If someone takes a joke or a tactless observation in stride, Ace figures that they're more likely to tell him the truth, since they're obviously comfortable with it where they themselves are concerned.
Whether or not someone willingly spills the beans to him, Ace does invariably get to the root of whatever case he's set in front of. He has an amazing eye for detail and a quick wit that goes beyond just being able to insult or banter: on several occasions, he has been able to glance at a room or a person and read them like a book. He was able to case a murder scene and verify the details he overheard from a witness in a matter of moments, and upon meeting one of his employers, he was able to assess not only his personality, but where he had been earlier in the day, his spending habits, and the fact that he had slipped and fallen... a crucial fact that later led to implicating him as the actual culprit of the case. In fact, his anti-social habits and how closely linked they are with his effectiveness as a detective are pretty similar to certain other famous fictional detectives ... Ace just prefers a bag of sunflower seeds to a pipe, talking through his ass to playing the violin, and has yet to find someone willing to put up with his impulsiveness long enough to be his Watson.
In more recent months leading up to his canon point, Ace's impulsive craziness has been tempered ever so slightly by an unexpected source: Buddhism. After a rescue gone wrong in the Tibetan mountains, Ace was taken in by a group of monks and spent several months recovering from the trauma. He was still a wild soul by all means - the monks' excitement at having their serene ashram back to themselves again when he left was testament enough - but he still seems to have taken some of their lessons to heart, mentioning to the people he works with on his next case on several occasions that he has attained "spiritual creaminess" and that the zen mindset he was taught has become essential to his deductive process. He has even become attuned enough with the universe to astral project and carry out conversations with his guru - something he might use on rare occasions to help locate something or someone who's gone missing. This is not to say that Ace is overtly and fanatically spiritual ... he simply considers meditation and other teachings of the monks to be more tools in his detective kit, ways to clear away the clutter surrounding the facts of a case and get to the heart of it. It also doesn't get in his way of still being a colossal troll to people who rub him the wrong way - not in the least.
When it comes to people who get Ace's dander up, they're pretty easy to categorize: anyone who holds a sufficient amount of disrespect or disregard for animals and their place in the world. He also seems to have a special circle of hell reserved for rich, snooty types, regardless of how they view animals - whether this comes from living just barely on the edge of his means due to owning his own business, or some older source during his earlier years is never addressed, but it could really go either way. Whatever the reason, if Ace is put in a setting where he's expected to Dress Up And Play Nice, he will invariably go in exactly the opposite direction, setting his sights on offending as many people as possible. Society displays of importance and posturing are excessive and dumb, to him - he'd rather be living his life and doing something that he either thinks matters, or is enjoyable to him, regardless of whether or not anyone else thinks it's a valid use of time. (The best example of this? He keeps a client waiting for HOURS on his way out of the ashram, because he always wanted to walk a Slinky down its stairs, and knows he won't have another chance to. Is it meaningful? No. Is it fun? You bet your sweet patoot it was.) If he happens to meet anyone who even marginally can understand his outlook on life, he's far more likely to tone down his antics enough to be tolerable. Even so: no one, not even his closest friend, is safe from his sense of humor or his practical jokes.
Beneath all of the jokes, lewdness, rudeness, and general ridiculousness, Ace is a man who puts his heart into his work, and anyone who comes to respect him for it will earn respect in kind, along with his loyalty. He knows good-hearted people when he sees them, and while the animals still come first (and always will), if any of those kind people end up in a pickle, he'll see what he can do to help them out, too. Maybe. If he's feeling generous. ... Oh, wait. Right. There's that pesky little loss of his. Damn, maybe he'll actually have to act like a decent human being once in a while, after all.
ABILITIES: As mentioned in his personality section, Ace can astral project. He has to get sufficiently into an undisturbed meditative trance first, and if he's distracted, he'll be yanked back to reality. Anyone psychic in the vicinity of where he's trying to project to will be able to see him floating like a ghost, surrounded by a faint aura.
THIRD-PERSON WRITING SAMPLE:
"Fairyland Animal Shelter," Ace read aloud to himself, glancing up at the establishment in question. The yards outside were spacious enough, even if the grass looked like it was in need of a decent lawn mower, and some of the chain-link fences were starting to go askew. "Methinks the fairies got a little tipsy." Making his way up through the gate, he let himself into the shelter proper and had a look around. It was clear from even his first observations that whoever had originally built the place had done it with care and consideration - there was a large open space just inside the door by the desk, plenty of room for anyone with any sort of visiting animal to wait their turn to be served. Picking up the stack of brochures from its place on the desk, he took one, tossed the rest over his shoulder in a flurry of paper, and leafed through the one in his hand. Afer a moment, he let out a low whistle, impressed. In its day, the place had definitely been nothing to scoff at. Now, however, whoever was still on duty was probably occupied elsewhere in the building with the strays, so he hopped behind the desk and helped himself to the filing cabinet, rifling through the papers.
From the looks of things, several pets had been adopted, then returned, then adopted again - or, in a lot of cases, bequeathed from one castle resident to another upon their departure. Most of the strays still on the shelter's records had been there since its inception, and Ace's heart went out to them. They all seemed perfectly healthy, if not a little odd and maybe a little old - not unlike how he felt on some days, truth be told. He put the folders back in the cabinet and pushed it closed with a squeak, just in time to see the kid on duty come in from the back room, one of the shelter's dogs trotting beside him happily on a leash.
"I'll take 'em," Ace said by way of greeting, holding out a hand.
The volunteer blinked, surprised. "Who, this one?"
With a shake of his head, the pet detective grinned manically. "All of 'em."
FIRST-PERSON JOURNAL SAMPLE: [anyone out and around the stables today will notice Ace right away - he's just as hard to miss as he usually is, holding a bucket of apples and carrots]
Hey, fellas. Hungry? 'Course you are. I know, I know, people only seem to care about givin' you the good stuff when they want you to haul them and all their gear out to the edges of the earth. [he adapts an Irish brogue, twirling a carrot like a nightstick in one hand] Yer th' blue-collars, aren'cha, me boyos! [holding it out to the nearest horse, he reaches up to pat its neck as it nibbles at the carrot] Thaaaaat's right. It's okay. Ace appreciates you even if you're just chillin' in the pad. ... Least somebody's been mucking out your stalls. If you had even vaguely subpar living conditions you know I'd be right up their flank for ya.
[he lets himself into the stall and starts checking the horse's hooves, casually but carefully, with practiced ease] I gotta admit, you're in better shape than I'd hoped, given how they keep track of their housepe--
[he's interrupted by what sounds like the cry of an eagle, and whips his head around to see the resident hippogriff craning its neck at him]
We-he-he-heeeellllll, what have we here? You're an interesting critter, aren'cha? [he leaves the rest of the carrot with the horse and hops over the threshhold of the stall, closing it behind him and crossing over to inspect the hippogriff] Hi there. How's it going? Ace Ventura, Pet Detect- AAAAAAAAAhahahahhh... okay.
[for those wondering? his attempt at reaching out a hand to scratch the scruff of its neck like he would any other bird was interrupted by a snap of that very large beak. yep] Feisty, aren't you? ... Okay, okay. [he fishes his journal out of his pocket and dictates, casually:]
Howdy ho there, Paradisa. Anyone happen to know the skinny on the griffin in the stables? I think it might have a history of abuse...
INTENT: I was going to try a more flamboyant, cracky muse last year with Megamind and got waylaid by having to move. Perhaps it's time to try again. I'd like for him to end up having a hand in helping with the animal population, as well (if my third person didn't end up being enough of a clue).
NAME: Ang D.
PERSONAL JOURNAL:
chartharsisEMAIL: msfeistus@gmail.com
AIM: chartharsis
CURRENT CHARACTERS: Mark Hunter, Gale Hawthorne, Olivia "M" Mansfield, Barney Stinson
CHARACTER
CHARACTER NAME: Ace Ventura
SERIES: Ace Ventura: Pet Detective
CANON POINT: During Ace Ventura: When Nature Calls, directly after going over the waterfall.
LOSS: If anyone approaches him and says they have a case for him, he is obligated to take it, whether or not it involves animals. Where he would normally say "I don't do humans", he'll find himself verbally accepting, instead.
ABOUT THE CHARACTER:
People's first impression of Ace is often that he's one hundred percent insane - and with a slight margin of error, they'd likely be right. From his loud clothes to his even louder mouth, he's a poster boy for marching to the beat of a different drummer. He says what he thinks, with little to no brain-to-mouth filter and absolutely no regard for tact. His manners are atrocious, his driving even more so, and his opinions are as strong as the hairspray that keeps his infamous hairdo in place. He's as wild as the animals he helps find and protect ... but when you roll that all up together into one concise package, as little sense as it makes, it somehow explains just why he's so good at what he does. Ace's madness is, in fact, his method.
His individuality is his trademark - he acts as his own advertising. Living in a city where not many people think that a missing animal is worth mentioning among murders, drug busts, and other more high-profile crimes, he knows that he has to stand out some other way to call attention to his cause. Standing amid a crowd of blue uniforms, the Hawaiian shirts and striped pants he prefers stick out like a sore thumb, and ensure that he gets - at least initially - the attention he needs to even keep his business afloat. His disregard for tact and manners are off-putting and abrasive, but he's more interested in the facts surrounding a case and the motives and details of the people involved than in being their friends ... not to mention that the way someone reacts to an insult or some other abrasive remark can say volumes about what kind of person they are. If someone takes a joke or a tactless observation in stride, Ace figures that they're more likely to tell him the truth, since they're obviously comfortable with it where they themselves are concerned.
Whether or not someone willingly spills the beans to him, Ace does invariably get to the root of whatever case he's set in front of. He has an amazing eye for detail and a quick wit that goes beyond just being able to insult or banter: on several occasions, he has been able to glance at a room or a person and read them like a book. He was able to case a murder scene and verify the details he overheard from a witness in a matter of moments, and upon meeting one of his employers, he was able to assess not only his personality, but where he had been earlier in the day, his spending habits, and the fact that he had slipped and fallen... a crucial fact that later led to implicating him as the actual culprit of the case. In fact, his anti-social habits and how closely linked they are with his effectiveness as a detective are pretty similar to certain other famous fictional detectives ... Ace just prefers a bag of sunflower seeds to a pipe, talking through his ass to playing the violin, and has yet to find someone willing to put up with his impulsiveness long enough to be his Watson.
In more recent months leading up to his canon point, Ace's impulsive craziness has been tempered ever so slightly by an unexpected source: Buddhism. After a rescue gone wrong in the Tibetan mountains, Ace was taken in by a group of monks and spent several months recovering from the trauma. He was still a wild soul by all means - the monks' excitement at having their serene ashram back to themselves again when he left was testament enough - but he still seems to have taken some of their lessons to heart, mentioning to the people he works with on his next case on several occasions that he has attained "spiritual creaminess" and that the zen mindset he was taught has become essential to his deductive process. He has even become attuned enough with the universe to astral project and carry out conversations with his guru - something he might use on rare occasions to help locate something or someone who's gone missing. This is not to say that Ace is overtly and fanatically spiritual ... he simply considers meditation and other teachings of the monks to be more tools in his detective kit, ways to clear away the clutter surrounding the facts of a case and get to the heart of it. It also doesn't get in his way of still being a colossal troll to people who rub him the wrong way - not in the least.
When it comes to people who get Ace's dander up, they're pretty easy to categorize: anyone who holds a sufficient amount of disrespect or disregard for animals and their place in the world. He also seems to have a special circle of hell reserved for rich, snooty types, regardless of how they view animals - whether this comes from living just barely on the edge of his means due to owning his own business, or some older source during his earlier years is never addressed, but it could really go either way. Whatever the reason, if Ace is put in a setting where he's expected to Dress Up And Play Nice, he will invariably go in exactly the opposite direction, setting his sights on offending as many people as possible. Society displays of importance and posturing are excessive and dumb, to him - he'd rather be living his life and doing something that he either thinks matters, or is enjoyable to him, regardless of whether or not anyone else thinks it's a valid use of time. (The best example of this? He keeps a client waiting for HOURS on his way out of the ashram, because he always wanted to walk a Slinky down its stairs, and knows he won't have another chance to. Is it meaningful? No. Is it fun? You bet your sweet patoot it was.) If he happens to meet anyone who even marginally can understand his outlook on life, he's far more likely to tone down his antics enough to be tolerable. Even so: no one, not even his closest friend, is safe from his sense of humor or his practical jokes.
Beneath all of the jokes, lewdness, rudeness, and general ridiculousness, Ace is a man who puts his heart into his work, and anyone who comes to respect him for it will earn respect in kind, along with his loyalty. He knows good-hearted people when he sees them, and while the animals still come first (and always will), if any of those kind people end up in a pickle, he'll see what he can do to help them out, too. Maybe. If he's feeling generous. ... Oh, wait. Right. There's that pesky little loss of his. Damn, maybe he'll actually have to act like a decent human being once in a while, after all.
ABILITIES: As mentioned in his personality section, Ace can astral project. He has to get sufficiently into an undisturbed meditative trance first, and if he's distracted, he'll be yanked back to reality. Anyone psychic in the vicinity of where he's trying to project to will be able to see him floating like a ghost, surrounded by a faint aura.
THIRD-PERSON WRITING SAMPLE:
"Fairyland Animal Shelter," Ace read aloud to himself, glancing up at the establishment in question. The yards outside were spacious enough, even if the grass looked like it was in need of a decent lawn mower, and some of the chain-link fences were starting to go askew. "Methinks the fairies got a little tipsy." Making his way up through the gate, he let himself into the shelter proper and had a look around. It was clear from even his first observations that whoever had originally built the place had done it with care and consideration - there was a large open space just inside the door by the desk, plenty of room for anyone with any sort of visiting animal to wait their turn to be served. Picking up the stack of brochures from its place on the desk, he took one, tossed the rest over his shoulder in a flurry of paper, and leafed through the one in his hand. Afer a moment, he let out a low whistle, impressed. In its day, the place had definitely been nothing to scoff at. Now, however, whoever was still on duty was probably occupied elsewhere in the building with the strays, so he hopped behind the desk and helped himself to the filing cabinet, rifling through the papers.
From the looks of things, several pets had been adopted, then returned, then adopted again - or, in a lot of cases, bequeathed from one castle resident to another upon their departure. Most of the strays still on the shelter's records had been there since its inception, and Ace's heart went out to them. They all seemed perfectly healthy, if not a little odd and maybe a little old - not unlike how he felt on some days, truth be told. He put the folders back in the cabinet and pushed it closed with a squeak, just in time to see the kid on duty come in from the back room, one of the shelter's dogs trotting beside him happily on a leash.
"I'll take 'em," Ace said by way of greeting, holding out a hand.
The volunteer blinked, surprised. "Who, this one?"
With a shake of his head, the pet detective grinned manically. "All of 'em."
FIRST-PERSON JOURNAL SAMPLE: [anyone out and around the stables today will notice Ace right away - he's just as hard to miss as he usually is, holding a bucket of apples and carrots]
Hey, fellas. Hungry? 'Course you are. I know, I know, people only seem to care about givin' you the good stuff when they want you to haul them and all their gear out to the edges of the earth. [he adapts an Irish brogue, twirling a carrot like a nightstick in one hand] Yer th' blue-collars, aren'cha, me boyos! [holding it out to the nearest horse, he reaches up to pat its neck as it nibbles at the carrot] Thaaaaat's right. It's okay. Ace appreciates you even if you're just chillin' in the pad. ... Least somebody's been mucking out your stalls. If you had even vaguely subpar living conditions you know I'd be right up their flank for ya.
[he lets himself into the stall and starts checking the horse's hooves, casually but carefully, with practiced ease] I gotta admit, you're in better shape than I'd hoped, given how they keep track of their housepe--
[he's interrupted by what sounds like the cry of an eagle, and whips his head around to see the resident hippogriff craning its neck at him]
We-he-he-heeeellllll, what have we here? You're an interesting critter, aren'cha? [he leaves the rest of the carrot with the horse and hops over the threshhold of the stall, closing it behind him and crossing over to inspect the hippogriff] Hi there. How's it going? Ace Ventura, Pet Detect- AAAAAAAAAhahahahhh... okay.
[for those wondering? his attempt at reaching out a hand to scratch the scruff of its neck like he would any other bird was interrupted by a snap of that very large beak. yep] Feisty, aren't you? ... Okay, okay. [he fishes his journal out of his pocket and dictates, casually:]
Howdy ho there, Paradisa. Anyone happen to know the skinny on the griffin in the stables? I think it might have a history of abuse...
INTENT: I was going to try a more flamboyant, cracky muse last year with Megamind and got waylaid by having to move. Perhaps it's time to try again. I'd like for him to end up having a hand in helping with the animal population, as well (if my third person didn't end up being enough of a clue).