game_over_man

Player Information
*Name/Alias: They call me.....TIM.
*Your Journal: hellkitty
*Age: I have a cat older than 16
*Contact Information: AIM, plurk, this account, email
*Characters already in the game: IDW Drift, IDW Whirl

Character Information
*Character Name: PFC William Hudson
*Character Canon: Aliens (1986)
*Age: 26
*Race: human
*Timeline/Pull Point: His last canon appearance falling through the floor in Hadley’s Hope.

*History: http://avp.wikia.com/wiki/Hudson Wiki
*Personality:
Hudson’s a smartass. He’s been in the Marines for nine years, just on the verge of getting out, and he can TASTE it—serious short-timer’s syndrome. He’s survived a lot and is a bit of a braggart about it, especially around women. (Vasquez doesn’t count). He’s got an interesting relationship with authority: in canon he pokes at Sgt Apone, but obeys orders. He’s prone to panic, especially around the unknown, but once again, when Hicks and Vasquez slap him down, he calms down. In the scene of his pull point, he’s covering the retreat of the others, almost knowing it’s not going to end well, and he’s not chickening out.

He IS a competent soldier, once you get around his attitude. He’s a team player, too, despite what seems to be narcissism: he never bails on the other Marines and runs to save his own ass or anything like that.

He’s a bit of a slacker and sarcastic, the kind of guy who made it through school by clowning around and pulling it out of his ass at the last minute. His ego and his abilities have gotten him by so far, just fine.

He will likely freak out at least once. He just wants to survive, get home, and retire with a bunch of hot babes and his well-earned pension. If given the chance to score some luxuries here (booze and babes) he’d likely take it. Not in a ‘betraying his team’ way, but in a ‘fuck it, the Hudson has earned it!’ way.) He likes stirring things up, messing with his teammates, but never in any real malicious way. However, this means he doesn’t really think through consequences. A little joke or prank of his may backfire stupendously.

His main mission in life is to enjoy himself: he does like a good combat asswhooping (the Marines winning!) and joking with his buddies, and his dream is to retire, own a bar, and work just a bit and let the money and the women come to him.

*Powers/Abilities:
He’s a human, without any magic or telepathy or anything like that. But he is good with computers and is well trained on human military weapons. (He’d be useless with a sword, but with guns, he’s pretty set), and computers.

Since the world here is different from his own, it’s likely his stuff and abilities won’t work perfectly—I’d like the motion tracker to work pretty well, and maybe some capability for the door breaching device. As he is the 2/9th’s comm tech, I’d like him to have the ability (slowly and limitedly) to encrypt and decrypt secure transmissions. Because the tech isn’t the same, obviously it’ll take a while.

Weapons-wise, given what we see of the M41A, I figure it would be able to penetrate Cybertronian armor. It would take a while, but given luck and enough rounds, he can defend himself.

*Inventory:
M41A standard pulse rifle, with 2 replacement magazines, 6 grenades, a motion tracker that can read through floors/ceilings/walls, and a door breacher. Also standard USCM ballistic armor including chestplate and helmet and lights.

*Starting Polarity:
Surprise me.

Writing Samples
*First Person Sample:

[The video feed starts and hey, guess what? You get a moment to admire the awesome that is Hudson. Take all the time you need. He’ll wait.]

Great. Just fuckin’ great.

I mean, seriously. Either Spunkmeyer’s really outdone himself with the moonshine hootch or I just somehow went from the shit pile straight into the cow’s goddam anus.

Prob’ly both. Just my luck. [He’s lucky like that.]

Seventeen more days. Can you fuckin’ believe it? Course you can’t. Seventeen more days and William Hudson would be a free man, man. I had plans, serious plans.

‘kay they weren’t so serious. But one thing would be, ya know, waking up without Apone’s boot up my ass. Wouldn’t that be a treat?

Oh you’d think so, would you? Yeah, well not when the fuckin’ alternative is some giant robot wearing some sort of stupid ass KKK get up giving me some story about giant robots running the world. I dunno, some goddam robot overlord alien invasion bullshit? Don’t ask me, man. I just woke up.

So I got one question.

How the fuck long was the Sulaco out there?

*Third Person Sample: (He’s talking to himself because Hudson seriously lacks a filter)

“Riiiiight.” He’s talking to himself, because, hey, why not? At least he has an audience able to, you know, appreciate his wit. He had an old radio-box open on his lap, his armor’s LED light shining into it, glinting off the stylized Weyland-Yutani logo. “Fuckin’ great shit we got right here. Join the Colonial Marines, see the universe, kill all sorts ‘a interesting species. Drink your way through every brothel base in the sector. Awesome shit, man. That’s the stuff the recruiters all focus on.” He looks up at the red-black sky. Looks like a scab. An old one, the kind you’d see on some backwater bar skank’s face. Or ass, if you were real stupid and got that close.

Hudson hadn’t pulled his near-ten-year hitch and come out lookin’ this awesome by being stupid.

“What they don’t tell you is all about this shit. Boredom. BOREDOM. Weaponized nothing-to-fucking-do.” Shit. Not even Apone riding his ass like some carnival ride, or Vasquez to pat on the head till she punched him. Frost, to shoot the shit with. Anyone. Anyone would be good. Even that dickcheese Burke.

Okay. Not Burke. He wasn’t that desperate for company. Yeah, Weyland-Yutani’s favorite son and mass murderer. Anyone deserve to be face-raped it was Burke. Hell, just making o-fficial what he’d probably been doing for years, blowjobbing his way up the corporate ladder.

“Yeah, well, guess what, dumbass,” Hudson said, bending over the box. “Looks like you musta scraped with the teeth one too many times to get a peach of a mission like Hadley’s Hope.”

Then again, so had the 2/9. But, hey, if they called in the Colonial Marines, everything was shit stew to begin with. Which was why they sent the best and brightest…of those dumb enough to sign up.

“Lemme tell you. This whole place sucks balls and as soon as I get comm working? Gonna send out the love on fifteen different channels.” When…or if. Looks like colonials got their shit made by the lowest bidder, too.



Final Notes: Hudson may suffer a delusion that he's been impregnated by aliens. I don't want to force a plot where suddenly xenomorphs everywhere or anything but it would make sense that he thinks he is, based on his canon pull point.