Post by Jake on May 24, 2009 10:22:11 GMT -5
Name of character: Esplin 9466
Number of books you've read: Every single one, I think.
Do you like spoilers?: I don't mind them, even with my poor memory.
Why you want to play this character: I make a great Esplin. >=3 Didn't want to just play OCs.
Contact: See profile.
RP Sample: I took this from A:NB. I wrote it myself, of course.
Number of books you've read: Every single one, I think.
Do you like spoilers?: I don't mind them, even with my poor memory.
Why you want to play this character: I make a great Esplin. >=3 Didn't want to just play OCs.
Contact: See profile.
RP Sample: I took this from A:NB. I wrote it myself, of course.
Esplin 9466 Primary stood in his quarters, resting, his main-eyes closed, and his stalk-eyes swiveling this way and that, watching in case anyone dared try and attack him in here. He was thinking about yet another plan foiled by the Andalite bandits. He had attempted to seize a massive corporation known as Callaway Technologies for themselves. They had been successful, but after the Andalite bandits arrived and sabotaged their main facility, the corporation had been destroyed, and would not be used again, by humans or Yeerks.
It all began when the son of the CEO, John Callaway, had escaped. The Visser was sure he would not get far, but had punished the fools who had failed to infest him. One Hork-Bajir and a human-Controller had trembled before him, knowing they would lose their lives at the end of his tailblade. The Visser did not tolerate failure. He led by fear, and many a Controller had fallen at his blade. Killing them slowly and painfully had made him feel better, but just a little. After all, this was not getting him close to what he wanted. Esplin was always angry, and he had his reasons. As far as he was concerned, his underlings were foolish imbeciles, and this was proven by their inability.
Having infiltrated the company was beneficial; this way, they didn’t have to hide anything. Taxxons, Hork-Bajir, and other things not meant for “innocent” human eyes roamed the place, putting pieces and parts together, or guarding the area from the non-Controller personnel. The Andalite bandits had chosen to strike when the human-Controllers were conducting an experiment. Somehow, probably, the child had gotten ahold of them. They had the edge...until the blue-furred Andalite-Controller had appeared, standing tall on his four legs, his deadly scythe-bladed tail swishing behind him. His host had lost all hope of freedom, but still, Visser Three tormented him by forcing him to see through his eyes the things he did. When the Dome ship had been destroyed, he had forced Alloran to watch, through his eyes, as his people burned.
Sometimes he’d think back to when he was an ambitious grub twenty-nine years ago; he had learned so much about Andalites that he had been useful enough to be the first Hork-Bajir-Controller. He had been the one to declare that they were not just hosts, but weapons. And he had been the first and only to take an Andalite host. Not just any Andalite, but a former War-Prince. A disgraced one, but still skilled and knowledgeable. It had gotten him a Visser position, and he had continued to rise in the ranks, until he became Visser Three. So close to the position of Visser One, and yet so far. He would someday have his day. He would destroy Visser One, and take her place.
It was her fault that Earth was not yet a part of the Yeerk Empire. Her and the foolish silent invasion she was forcing him to carry out. Esplin hated silent invasions; his specialty was outright war. If he had outright war, Earth would be his within months, rather than years.
He sought to kill those Andalite bandits, and he hoped to do it himself, though if he caught one, it would be infested by one of his most loyal lieutenants and would reveal the location of the others, hopefully. Esplin was not one to let any other share his spotlight. He wanted to be the only Andalite-Controller, superior with his pool of deadly, exotic morphs and his tailblade which was stained with the blood of many a fool that dared cross or fail him. With the millions of human host bodies, he could mount an attack on the Andalite people. And then it wouldn’t matter who had an Andalite host-body or not. Esplin would be Visser One – or greater.
Elfangor...he wished to kill personally. He would end him, his other rival. And once the Andalite world was taken, Esplin would take Elfangor’s family as his tokens, planting his most loyal within their brains as he watched personally.
Esplin was done resting; he felt perhaps he should feed. He did not bathe with the other Yeerks. He had a private pool here with its own small Kandrona lamp. Four Hork-Bajir-Controllers waited while Esplin walked daintily towards the mini-pool, and tilted his head. Just as the grayish-green speckled slug wriggled free of Alloran’s brain and dropped from his ear, the Hork-Bajir knocked the Andalite out; with his dangerous morphs, he could easily free or kill himself otherwise. The Visser hated having to feed. He was once again in his blind, weak form. But it was necessary for his survival. Maybe someday, the Council would give him his own special lamp like they had, but for now, he had to feed, just like every other Yeerk out there. And he fed, until finally, he could return to his host...
It all began when the son of the CEO, John Callaway, had escaped. The Visser was sure he would not get far, but had punished the fools who had failed to infest him. One Hork-Bajir and a human-Controller had trembled before him, knowing they would lose their lives at the end of his tailblade. The Visser did not tolerate failure. He led by fear, and many a Controller had fallen at his blade. Killing them slowly and painfully had made him feel better, but just a little. After all, this was not getting him close to what he wanted. Esplin was always angry, and he had his reasons. As far as he was concerned, his underlings were foolish imbeciles, and this was proven by their inability.
Having infiltrated the company was beneficial; this way, they didn’t have to hide anything. Taxxons, Hork-Bajir, and other things not meant for “innocent” human eyes roamed the place, putting pieces and parts together, or guarding the area from the non-Controller personnel. The Andalite bandits had chosen to strike when the human-Controllers were conducting an experiment. Somehow, probably, the child had gotten ahold of them. They had the edge...until the blue-furred Andalite-Controller had appeared, standing tall on his four legs, his deadly scythe-bladed tail swishing behind him. His host had lost all hope of freedom, but still, Visser Three tormented him by forcing him to see through his eyes the things he did. When the Dome ship had been destroyed, he had forced Alloran to watch, through his eyes, as his people burned.
Sometimes he’d think back to when he was an ambitious grub twenty-nine years ago; he had learned so much about Andalites that he had been useful enough to be the first Hork-Bajir-Controller. He had been the one to declare that they were not just hosts, but weapons. And he had been the first and only to take an Andalite host. Not just any Andalite, but a former War-Prince. A disgraced one, but still skilled and knowledgeable. It had gotten him a Visser position, and he had continued to rise in the ranks, until he became Visser Three. So close to the position of Visser One, and yet so far. He would someday have his day. He would destroy Visser One, and take her place.
It was her fault that Earth was not yet a part of the Yeerk Empire. Her and the foolish silent invasion she was forcing him to carry out. Esplin hated silent invasions; his specialty was outright war. If he had outright war, Earth would be his within months, rather than years.
He sought to kill those Andalite bandits, and he hoped to do it himself, though if he caught one, it would be infested by one of his most loyal lieutenants and would reveal the location of the others, hopefully. Esplin was not one to let any other share his spotlight. He wanted to be the only Andalite-Controller, superior with his pool of deadly, exotic morphs and his tailblade which was stained with the blood of many a fool that dared cross or fail him. With the millions of human host bodies, he could mount an attack on the Andalite people. And then it wouldn’t matter who had an Andalite host-body or not. Esplin would be Visser One – or greater.
Elfangor...he wished to kill personally. He would end him, his other rival. And once the Andalite world was taken, Esplin would take Elfangor’s family as his tokens, planting his most loyal within their brains as he watched personally.
Esplin was done resting; he felt perhaps he should feed. He did not bathe with the other Yeerks. He had a private pool here with its own small Kandrona lamp. Four Hork-Bajir-Controllers waited while Esplin walked daintily towards the mini-pool, and tilted his head. Just as the grayish-green speckled slug wriggled free of Alloran’s brain and dropped from his ear, the Hork-Bajir knocked the Andalite out; with his dangerous morphs, he could easily free or kill himself otherwise. The Visser hated having to feed. He was once again in his blind, weak form. But it was necessary for his survival. Maybe someday, the Council would give him his own special lamp like they had, but for now, he had to feed, just like every other Yeerk out there. And he fed, until finally, he could return to his host...
