Crazy John, Intergalactic Stoner Ninja

[CJ]

DOSSIER: CIVILIAN

 
”INTERGALACTIC, PLANETARY, PLANETARY, INTERGALACTIC.”

BASIC DETAILS

NAME:
John "Crazy John" "C.J." Bates

AGE:
25 (26 in December)

GENDER:
Male (According to the government. He is actually a kickass robot from Mars.)

NATIONALITY:
Martian Amurrcan

BIRTHPLACE:
El Paso, Texas

BIRTHDATE:
December 21st, 1986

PICTURE:

Spoiler:

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PERSONAL DETAILS

DESCRIPTION:
Tall, lanky, and super fly. That's all the words needed to describe this magnificent hunk of man-meat. Born and raised in Texas, and you can tell it with that sexy accent, ladies. What would this world be without such a fine example of manliness running about? Nothing, that's what. This entire planet wouldn't even exist if it weren't for the birth of this glorious beast. C.J. likes many things, but some of those top things include wearing badass hats, coats, t-shirts with hats on them, and, most importantly, pants. Don't need another trip to prison for forgetting that last thing again. His eyes are a really fucking awesome orange color, unnatural as hell, but so is everything else about him. Prime example of an Adonis figure, look at those masculine muscles of epicdom. Oh, did I mention the anime shades? Yeah. He full-on supports supporting the supporters of the anime community with these pointy motherfuckers. Step, bitch.

PERSONALITY:
You think you got shit on this crazy motherfucker? You would be wrong, of course, just like in every other assumption you make about C.J. Light it up, puff and choke, he's a Grade-A stoner. Jimi Hendrix ain't got shit on John, nigga, this gangster's blood would knock a vampire on its ass. You thought he'd spell it "gangsta"? Wrong, white boiz all know they gotta be down with the mob to survive, and this guy has probably watched Scarface more times than you can even count.

Did I mention he's hella choice with the ladies? C.J. doesn't have a main squeeze in his life, so you know he got the pussy lined up at his doorstep. Single as fuck, but no fucks given, he doesn't need no leash and collar, his collars are pimped enough as it is. You know what else gets the ladies? Dope ass rhymes, pumped up beats; no man on Earth spits the way C.J. can. You wanna get down and dirty on the stage, twink? This hooligan will knock your wheels off if you try to step up to him, fo sho. Never a man on this planet but the late and great Tupac that could keep up with his flow. Best believe your ass will be grass, put down on the tarmac and curb-stomped fast, bitch.

But, in all seriousness, he spends most of his time getting high and hanging out at really weird places. Like, this one time, he ended up in some alternate dimension where everything was on fire and shit. Crazy, right? He had to stick with the dude that brought him there just so he could get back. Doesn't remember his name too well, just that he was pretty damn fly with a sword too. Green-haired slam-urai is what he called him. Pretty boss dude.

420 blaze it, faggot.

HISTORY:
Once upon a time, when the moon and the planets aligned, there was this little bitty baby that was made to spit rhymes. Up in El Paso, born and raised, on the playground was where he spent most of his days. Laughing, chillaxing, acting all cool, and playing some basketball outside the school, when a couple of guys who were up to no good started making trouble in his neighborhood. He got in one little fight, and his mom said, "Yippee! Now I can send your sorry ass off to D.C."

Before that fight though, there was another cartridge to this set of ammo. His dad was a drifter, never stayed in one place too long. His mom was a trailer park alcoholic, typical redneck woman who showed off her thongs. C.J. didn't really pay attention to that shit much, starting his stoner lifestyle when he was only fourteen. Other people saw it as him keeping a crutch, but he didn't pay attention to them, know what I mean?

High school education was as far as he got, before his mom kicked him out because she found all his pot. Bitch was straight tripping, jealous of the green, but once the tables started flipping, the whole thing got mean. She threw his shit out into the yard, screaming at him to get out of her car. He drove that Mercedes all the way to the airport, never even had to show up at court. C.J. flew off to a brand new land; he flew up so high he felt like Peter Pan.

Now, in D.C., that's where life got real, at first he had to lie, cheat and steal. That act got cleaned up after a while, because he didn't need pigs cramping up his style. Still peddles weed, but so does half the block. Hell, at least he isn't trying to sell you a rock. To end this little extravagant rhyme, let's fast-forward up to recent times.

C.J. lives in a building, barren and dark, but all he cares about is that he isn't back in the trailer park. Still gets to party, still has friends, just takes some rewiring to get the electricity up again. Steals cable off the neighbors, grinds out late 'til he drops, but you'll never see him be the one there when the gat goes pop. Straight up G, C.J.'s clean, but just meet him yourself, don't take it from me.

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FACTION:
Freelance

SKILLS:
- Swordsman: Not exactly an expert, but he's definitely familiar with a blade.

- Agile: They called him Monkey-Boy in high school, and for good reason. His movements are always quick, perceptive, and his body is surprisingly flexible.

- Rolling Joints: Most useful skill he has, because he can use it literally ANYWHERE.

WEAKNESSES:
- Fatigue: While he can go hard and fast, he is quick to run out of breath due to his smoking cigarettes.

- The Ladies: A total flirt, C.J. is quick to ditch anything if a pretty girl is in sight.

- Irony: While this can be his greatest friend when goofing off, merely getting even a hint of this stuff will cause him to bust out laughing.

COLOURS:
- English
- Weeaboo Japanese

TRIVIA:

- He's pretty insane, yo.
- DEEPEST DARKEST SECRET FOREVER: MLP:FiM is the greatest show ever made.
- He even sleeps in a hat, but the one he sleeps in happens to be emblazoned with Rainbow Dash's cutie mark.
- Yes, he sells weed.
- No, he won't sell it to you until he knows you're straight. Don't need cops (or worse, Templars) knocking on his door.

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USER DETAILS

ALIAS:
Kenny, Your Dark Lord and Master

OTHER CHARACTERS:
Youcum, Pupusaroony, Sword Sword, Dusty-ocolypse, and Gabromosexual

ROLEPLAY HISTORY:
uwotm8

FACECLAIM:

Code:

[b]Homestuck[/b] :: [b]Dave's Bro[/b]

CUSTOM RANK:
Secretly Loves Ponies

[Lazarus Carter]

NORMALLY...

I would just paint this shit approved, then get the app off and moved. But today, I don't think that's how I'll roll; 'cause reading this app has really taken a toll. Writing up some fresh lines might take some time, but fuck it, yo, you wrote C.J.'s whole history in rhyme. But seriously, though; this character's legit - so here comes your RP-access writ.

Word.