Post by Derry Abrams on Jul 1, 2011 23:30:33 GMT -5
Original
Name: Derry Abrams
Age: 24
Species: 78.7% human, the rest too watered down to make any difference in her physiology. Cassandra would not approve.
Planet of Origin: Golgafrinchan is a planet not too different from Earth, though there is a noticeable lack of squirrels, pigeons, raccoons and other familiar scavengers. Instead of these pestly animals, the people are commonly annoyed by large foot long worms that camouflage themselves to hide in trash cans, six armed tiny monkeys (the ones in the city have learned to pick pockets), and telemarketers who call during breakfast.
Occupation: Part time Short Order Cook, Hitch-hiker
Physical Description: Derry is a tall young lady, with a fit, if flat, body. Her skin ranges from a pale shade in the winter to pale with bright red or peeling spots in the summer. Her hair is shoulder length and blonde, pulled back into a sporty little ponytail, and her eyes are a rich blue. They're her favorite feature. She has little time for her appearance these days, but she never feels right without her mascara. Tattooed on her arm is the date she left home, along with the coordinates, just on the chance she may die and a kind fellow hitch-hiker might want to mail her body back. Derry wears a "borrowed" police uniform in black and green from a planet she refuses to mention by name, and an LA Lakers hat... even though she has no idea what a Laker is. Though friendly, she seems just a little bit cracked, and occasionally impatient.
Personality: More than anything, Derry loves trouble! She gets antsy if she stays in one place for more than a week, and dreams of one day having a ship of her own... by fair means or foul. Vegetables and fruit are a necessary evil, she would much prefer to eat nothing but meat! A list of Derry's fears would have to include being stranded on a primitive planet alone, digital watches, optimistic cliches, facing overwhelming firepower, and hostile poetry reading aliens in big yellow ships. When she's behind a grill, Derry will cook ANYthing and cook it right! She's quick and skilled with a spatula. Outside the restaurant, her focus rapidly melts away. She wants to go to fabulous places, meet lots of new people, start dancing and drinking and wake up the next morning in a spaceport wearing a patchwork mastodon costume with a love letter tucked in her bra! Somewhat less helpful in a confrontation, when under pressure Derry seems to rely on sheer blind luck and panic to save her life. It seems to have worked fairly well so far. She still has her towel, after all!
History: Her home life was hectic and dreary. Being the oldest of six children, she was expected to keep track of them all and tend to their needs while her parents worked. The responsibility was a crushing weight, sooooo unfair, nobody understood her! So, at the age of seventeen, Derry let herself be seduced away from home by a handsome devil with a ship juuuust big enough for two. Barely a month later, it seemed only one of them would make it out of there alive. He finally dropped her off at a spaceport far from Golgafrincham with nothing but a blue tote bag. Inside was a blue towel, a small collection of interesting rocks, a can of extra virgin olive oil, a pair of cracked sunglasses, creased postcards from Velexeron IV and a small utility pocketknife with the toothpick already used and both screw attachments broken. Derry convinced a deeply foolish fellow traveler that one of her rocks was actually worth quite a bit as a collector's item, and traded it to him in exchange for his ticket on the next passenger ship. She's been traveling ever since, occasionally hiring on as a cook at the nearest diner whenever she's low on cash or charm.
Medical Information: Derry is a healthy young woman, though she may not be for long if she keeps drinking like a fish! Hopefully someone can distract her from that kind of nonsense. Due to her constant travel, she's built up a resistance to the sort of nasty bugs one might encounter from spending the night curled up behind the trash cans at the space terminal wearing a blanket of soggy newspapers.
Name: Derry Abrams
Age: 24
Species: 78.7% human, the rest too watered down to make any difference in her physiology. Cassandra would not approve.
Planet of Origin: Golgafrinchan is a planet not too different from Earth, though there is a noticeable lack of squirrels, pigeons, raccoons and other familiar scavengers. Instead of these pestly animals, the people are commonly annoyed by large foot long worms that camouflage themselves to hide in trash cans, six armed tiny monkeys (the ones in the city have learned to pick pockets), and telemarketers who call during breakfast.
Occupation: Part time Short Order Cook, Hitch-hiker
Physical Description: Derry is a tall young lady, with a fit, if flat, body. Her skin ranges from a pale shade in the winter to pale with bright red or peeling spots in the summer. Her hair is shoulder length and blonde, pulled back into a sporty little ponytail, and her eyes are a rich blue. They're her favorite feature. She has little time for her appearance these days, but she never feels right without her mascara. Tattooed on her arm is the date she left home, along with the coordinates, just on the chance she may die and a kind fellow hitch-hiker might want to mail her body back. Derry wears a "borrowed" police uniform in black and green from a planet she refuses to mention by name, and an LA Lakers hat... even though she has no idea what a Laker is. Though friendly, she seems just a little bit cracked, and occasionally impatient.
Personality: More than anything, Derry loves trouble! She gets antsy if she stays in one place for more than a week, and dreams of one day having a ship of her own... by fair means or foul. Vegetables and fruit are a necessary evil, she would much prefer to eat nothing but meat! A list of Derry's fears would have to include being stranded on a primitive planet alone, digital watches, optimistic cliches, facing overwhelming firepower, and hostile poetry reading aliens in big yellow ships. When she's behind a grill, Derry will cook ANYthing and cook it right! She's quick and skilled with a spatula. Outside the restaurant, her focus rapidly melts away. She wants to go to fabulous places, meet lots of new people, start dancing and drinking and wake up the next morning in a spaceport wearing a patchwork mastodon costume with a love letter tucked in her bra! Somewhat less helpful in a confrontation, when under pressure Derry seems to rely on sheer blind luck and panic to save her life. It seems to have worked fairly well so far. She still has her towel, after all!
History: Her home life was hectic and dreary. Being the oldest of six children, she was expected to keep track of them all and tend to their needs while her parents worked. The responsibility was a crushing weight, sooooo unfair, nobody understood her! So, at the age of seventeen, Derry let herself be seduced away from home by a handsome devil with a ship juuuust big enough for two. Barely a month later, it seemed only one of them would make it out of there alive. He finally dropped her off at a spaceport far from Golgafrincham with nothing but a blue tote bag. Inside was a blue towel, a small collection of interesting rocks, a can of extra virgin olive oil, a pair of cracked sunglasses, creased postcards from Velexeron IV and a small utility pocketknife with the toothpick already used and both screw attachments broken. Derry convinced a deeply foolish fellow traveler that one of her rocks was actually worth quite a bit as a collector's item, and traded it to him in exchange for his ticket on the next passenger ship. She's been traveling ever since, occasionally hiring on as a cook at the nearest diner whenever she's low on cash or charm.
Medical Information: Derry is a healthy young woman, though she may not be for long if she keeps drinking like a fish! Hopefully someone can distract her from that kind of nonsense. Due to her constant travel, she's built up a resistance to the sort of nasty bugs one might encounter from spending the night curled up behind the trash cans at the space terminal wearing a blanket of soggy newspapers.
