snaptrap: (Default)
Player Information

Name/Alias: Squid

Your Journal: [personal profile] hailthenarc

Age: 26

Contact Information: aim: Squiddlypeon
Plurk: Squiddly

Characters already in the game: SG Soundwave, Skyfire

Character Information

Character Journal: [personal profile] snaptrap

Character Name: Hare Becile

Character Canon: Steam Powered Giraffe

Age: About 95.

Race: Coal powered robot

Timeline Change Point: After the Weekend War and after Thaddeus Becile got out of prison, he made the Becile answer to the Steam Man Band, his coal powered, green matter robots. They are crappy knock offs made shoddily from scrap and they know it. They have never interacted with a Walter and avoid them like the plague.

World: Despite what history may tell you there were plenty of civilian casualties during Thaddeus Becile’s attack on the Dandy Candy Mines. Many of which are unrecorded.

Three missing mine workers would obviously go unnoticed during the Copper Elephant War.

Brothers Tony and Jack worked in the rock candy dig, sending the money they made back to their family in America. Being Italian immigrants, money was tight for them, especially being around for a generation or so in America. When the opportunity arose to work the mines over in Africa, they gladly took it due to the high pay.

Tony was ambitious. He wanted to really be something, a singer. A crooner. He had the voice, but not the background. He needed to get a kickstart, get his family squared and get enough money to move out to the westcoast. Get found. He wanted to be the protagonist in a success story. Make his own way. No get-rich-quick garbage.

Jack was young and optimistic. A real sunny kid. He kinda got that way on account of Tony’s volatile moods. If Dad and Tony got into an argument or if Tony got into a scrape with any of those nativist jerks in town Jack would be able to cheer him up or calm him down. Jack always wanted to be like his older brother, ever since they were little. The guy was a little rough around the edges, but he was kind and just and moral and inside just the greatest brother a kid could ask for.

The kids worked a lot with Frank, another American. He was from an African-american sharecropping family, and he moved out to the east in hopes of an easier life-style. Unfortunately he didn’t make it as far as he thought he would out there, his race being a bigger issue than he anticipated. He took the same opportunity the brothers did when he had the chance. His father was a beaten down, head bowed type of man. Frank was much too proud for that. The same pride got him into a lot of trouble throughout his adolescence. As a result he’s become a real cynic.

Jack and Tony both liked Frank and vice versa, even if Frank was a bit stand offish. Frank didn’t believe in Tony’s ambitions, thought the kid was getting his hopes up too high. Jack liked Frank for his calm, rational demeanor, something he wasn’t very accustomed too between his brother and father.

During the first attack on the mine, Jack was lost to a cave-in. Tony died much after. He got himself stuck near his brother when trying to tend to him, when the collapsing rock trapped the two inside. Jack was stuck under a large piece of stone, and crushing him over time. Tony stayed by his side, screaming and screaming and screaming for help until he got hoarse, practically inaudible. He suffocated.

Frank died in the industrial workshop attached to the refinery. A fire broke out when an elephant took out one of the smoke stacks and toppled most of the hall. Frank was immolated.


Decades after the Copper Elephant War, an elderly Thaddeus Becile went about trying to collect the candy ore needed to fuel his green matter inventions once again, now shrouded in enough obscurity and inactivity that no one was suspect. He was only relatively successful in his last ditch effort, being that the Dandy Candy mine’s had been shutdown due to having been nearly exhausted of their ore. He only had a very small amount of fuel for his plans.

Becile again, out of desperation (he had fallen very ill, and this was his last shot), tried to construct a husk in which Delilah could be resurrected within. (Through unsavory means, he had come into possession of the remains necessary for such an experiment.) With little experience in anthropomorphic automatons, he used a mannequin for the chassis and wedged a Green Matter reactor in the chest.

The result was an abomination.

It was neither Delilah or an individual identity, it was a poor soul ripped from the grave. Half-mad and hysterical, this was not the Delilah he loved. It was a mockery. It screamed and cursed at him, and stayed still for hours, only to wail as soon as he approached. Other times it would coo and cry for him, begging for him to hold it. It would say the old things Delilah would, but it wasn’t her.

He locked it up and away. He didn’t have the heart to deactivate it, he just couldn’t stand to look at the thing.

The illness still plagued him, but the green matter seemed to stave it off as long as he didn’t leave the wealth of it he had at the manor.

When the Steam Man Band became renown for their glorious war effort, Becile decided he couldn’t stand it anymore. He, with the limited knowledge he garnered from trying to revive Delilah, built three nearly identical automatons, for the soul purpose of stealing the notoriety while they were away during war.

He built two from the ore he had extracted from a deep cavern within the abandoned mine, and one from the residue left in the refinery’s furnaces.

Each one was built to resemble it’s counterpart, though Becile had run out of resources/materials when working on the last, unable to give the poor bastard a proper face plate. Corners were cut with all three of them though, some of which created bigger problems than others.

The creations soon became almost like children to him. And they treated him like a father. They were largely successful during the absence of the Steam Man Band, though only because people were under the impression that they were in fact their Walter counterparts. This misconception soon changed after the war. Becile’s boys were attacked for being knock offs while the Walter kids flourished.

The Jack’s insanity was cause by an accident during a busking performance. Trying to impress Hare, Jack went after a rather wealthy looking woman in hopes of conning her out of her genuine pearl necklace. At this point a storm was brewing above and most were getting off the streets. Hare, not paying attention, lost track of Jack when he ran off. The storm hit, and he and the Skull went out looking for him.

They found Jack in a back ally, pearls strewn everywhere. Soot streaked the ground, and Jack lay jerking and twitching and laughing in a smoking heap. He had been struck by lighting. His circuits had blown and rendered him completely insane.

Real trouble started when the law got involved. Green matter had been outlawed due to its volatile and necroreactive properties, making the Becile Bots contraband. They went into hiding, and were rendered unable to leave the manor without being under the cover of night. Any they business they did was shady and illicit.

Becile eventually died when the green matter, (though extending his life far past what was natural) rendered him sickly and weak. He died of something akin to radiation poisoning.

The green matter reactors on which the Becile Bots run are highly volatile, and are liable to essentially melt down at any time. Hare’s right eye is a symptom of this, the optic having blown out due to slowly decaying power source. (Jack and Hare’s eyes are also hidden in correspondence to Jon’s and Rabbit’s blue ones, so that they resembled the two more.)


The only members currently living in the dilapidated Becile manor are his robots including what Hare calls Downgrade, Becile’s poor attempt at reviving his lost love. She is difficult to deal with, but Hare knows that out of all four of them, she is a likely candidate for having been dealt the worse hand.

The four of them have only an ex-employee of Becile’s who does maintenance, Mr. Weed. He stays only of his own will, (and perhaps because he is now homeless.) He’s an apathetic, grizzled old drunk, who may or may not have a soft spot for these metallic misfits. He want’s to stick around until he knows they don’t need him anymore.

But being that their core’s are timebombs, he doesn’t know long how that is.

Personality: The long and short of it is, Hare is an asshole. He has a bad temper, his mood changes wildly by the moment, anything can set him off, he's stubborn, he's kind of dumb, he wants to be right all the time, and when people say he isn't right he screams at them until they go away or agree that they're wrong. He's that guy. He does have something more complicated under the surface, but he generally doesn't like anyone figuring that out. Hare's entire goal is to be as unapproachable and difficult as possible. He wants to be the tough guy, so that is how he acts at all times.

Deep down under all that anger and spiky personality is a very sensitive bot, really. He likes romance novels, he would like being cuddled if he only allowed it to happen, he treats women as respectfully and politely as possible (and fights for their honor in bars), he's really easy to get crying (don't ever watch City of Angels with Hare), and he cares about people. He honestly, really does. But ninety five years worth of neglect and being treated like half rate trash has spoiled him for anyone else. Hare is afraid of letting anyone get close to him, he doesn't want to like anyone else. He's scared of being hurt, and he is so so used to being hurt, constantly. So rather than allow himself to be damaged, he scares people away with curse words, his damaged face and his shitty personality.

That being said, hare (usually) isn't afraid to put (some) hurt on folks that piss him off. He's never killed anyone before, but he has broken noses from throwing assholes out of bars and bouncing them off stools. He doesn't know how to fight for real, just ugly bar brawling, and he has no weapons. Hare is far too sensitive to significantly hurt anyone, and generally pulls back after first blood, if it even gets there at all, he usually relies on just being terrifying to get him what he wants. He's a romantic trapped in the body of a thug, so he doesn't make love or war, just a lot of smoke and noise.

Hare is frightening, but generally harmless, and due to his desperate desire to be useful and strong, sometimes ends up falling into step with less than desirable bosses. As long as someone can offer him protection and coal, he's usually all for being a hired goon.

Powers/Abilities: Robotic Intelligence: Hare still is a robot, and thus has a brain wired for numbers. Don't play poker with Hare, he counts cards and knows every single possible arrangement of cards in the game.

Super Strength: Oh and if he loses he'll break the table.

Robotic Endurance: As long as he has coal in his furnace, Hare can go forever. He does not ever get tired.

Sick Harmonica Skills: It'd be better if his jaw wasn't damaged tho.

Inventory: Nothing but his clothes, his hat and his harmonica. Not even Gwen to warm his bed.

Writing Samples

First Person Sample: [There's a lot of gross coughing before there's actually words in there. He's got a lot of shit in his mouth that he can't logically get out so please hold]

Awwrite, who's the fuckhead in charge'a the warehouse? Cuz someone's puttin' coal on the top shelf an' summa us ain't no goddamn giant robots, ya get me?

Next time I go in there an' my shit's outta my reach I'm tippin' over them robot juice cubes, ya ugly sunnuva bitch, I know who ya are. I ain't fuckin' scared a'you, ya overgrown tin toy, I know where ya sleep.

An' you's gotta sleep..

Third Person Sample: Good thing there were people sized apartments here. Hare wasn't about to be some local robot's pet robot in the house. He needed his own place. He just... wasn't used to it not being a hole in the wall. He'd spent most of his day filling it. Literally going to the warehouse, picking out one thing, dragging it back and arranging it somewhere and staring at it. That thing was his thing, he owned this thing and no one else was allowed to have this thing.

It was his thing.

And it was a nice thing.

There was a lot of coal in there. A decently sized bed with several different arrangements of canvas on it, Hare was too jagged for nice sheets, and made too much of a sooty mess too. He'd put a television in there, the biggest one he could drag back and about a million different Tim Curry movies. Even the really bad ones. He had a bookcase jammed full of books too, hidden in his room specifically because no one was allowed to see them but Hare.

And tools. So many power tools. He wasn't going to have to leave his apartment for a longass time if he didn't want to.

So he sat there on his new couch... and didn't touch anything.

For all this stuff that he never got to have back at home it was... too quiet. He was... He'd never been alone. His entire life there was always someone there, Skull, Jack, Downgrade, someone. There was no one here. He could talk to someone on the drone... but they'd never live with him. No one would ever willingly live with him. The odd, hollow feeling in his chest was uncomfortable, and he rested a clawed hand over it, staring at the floor.

He didn't have to leave if he didn't want to.

And yet he was still walking out that door five minutes later. Maybe he'd... get... more stuff for the house. Run into someone else on the way there and think up a reason why he can't go back.
snaptrap: (not crying)
Well this was awkward. He was in the boarding house, and for once, it wasn't to dig through everything to look for Jackie. The steel bot had placed himself dead in the center of one of the houses many, many living rooms, fussing with his hat and looking around the room like he expected something to come screaming out of the wall and eat him. He'd only heard stories about the house being alive. It was spooky okay? He didn't like it.

He kept the hat tugged down over the dead eye with one hand, and was picking at his jaw furiously with the other, filling the room with little squeals and scrapes as that switchblade sharp claw dug away at the coal buildup around his injury. Why was he here? He sort of knew. Sort of. It wasn't like he knew which room was... her room, and there was no way he was comfortable enough to go stomping around the house looking for someone who, not but a few months earlier, happily set him on fire.

She might have walked him home once, but he wasn't sure if that was just the pity in her taking over for the moment, or a choice she was making for life.

May as well... find out here, he supposed. He just ensured the door wasn't too far away in case he had to bolt, puffing some smoke nervously.
snaptrap: (Default)
There was a lot of screaming going on in the Becile house today. Why? Because Ratchet, the only robot with enough balls to take on taking care of the Becile clan, had finally seen fit to go get some better tools to repair them with, and the only place in the house that had better tools that he didn't have to buy were all in Hare's room. And the oldest Becile bot had taken great offense to the old medic cleaning him out.

"PUT THAT THE FUCK DOWN, YA RUSTY OL' PILE A STINKIN' SCRAP!" Hare, bless his core, was doing his best to try and punch Ratchet away from all his stuff, but honestly, trying to fight Ratchet on this matter was like arguing with a brick wall. The medic barely paid any attention to the tantruming robot, inspecting a state of the art steam powered drill and pneumonic hammer. Decent things, he'd already found a better welder and metal cutting saw in here.

"Unless you want me to work on you with outdated and ill repaired tools, Hare, I'm not going to put any of them down." He checked the quality of the saw he picked up, ignoring the tinny sounds of Hare trying to kick him in the shins.


"Well you always have Bernette." He'd already listened to Hare jabber on about his tools, and was convinced the antique was just slowly losing his mind. Probably due to the green matter decaying in him. All of them were cracked in one way or another. Skull had warned him what would happen if he started messing around with Hare's stuff, so he couldn't say he was surprised to get this kind of a reaction from the steel knockoff. Hare's wailing had called the attention of Skull, who was just watching in muted amusement from the doorway, a small bag of coal in hand as Hare fought his losing battle with Ratchet.


"We need tools, Snaptrap. You can get more." Hare blew out a huge cloud of black smoke, the single green eye alight in helpless fury.

"I got an attachment ta my tools!"

"Just like Bernice, Claudia an' Stephanie?"

"Don't you talk about Stephanie, ya fuckin' piece'a-" Ratchet brushed past Hare who, in his last ditch attempts to save his precious ladies, grabbed onto a piece of armor on Ratchet and tried to haul him back. His reward was being dragged out of the room, screaming and cursing. Skull had to carefully peel him off of Ratchet so the medic could place the tools safely in the work room without worry of them being stolen again. "IT AIN'T FAIR!"

"Life isn't fair, Hare. But at the very least now you won't have to worry about dying in your sleep." And with that, Ratchet locked the work room and strode out of the house, leaving Hare quivering in outrage. He wouldn't attack Skull, he had more respect for Skull than he did Ratchet, but the screaming carried on throughout the night.

It'd be some time before he'd have to accept reality as it was again.
snaptrap: (Default)
After hearing about Spine's little mixup with the Becile heir? Well, Hare was more than a little upset. Normally he wouldn't give a shit, maybe he'd feel slightly uncomfortable but it was a Walter-

Well this was a Walter he was actually regularly fucking, and Rabbit had fixed his eye. After setting it on fire but that was beside the point, either way, he was somewhat indebted to the two of them now, no going back at this point. At the current time and place, he was sequestered inside Spine's room, attempting, really, really hard, to be as understanding and nice as possible. He honestly meant it, he was being genuine, but it was really hard to convey the feeling of 'I'm sorry my great great disowned nephew splooged on your chassis.'

It was a work in progress.

"It ain't like I visit the lil' prick, yanno."

"I know you don't, I don't hold him being a Becile against you-"

"I mean I barely know the kid, he's just some gross fuck who's in the family, like that weird uncle who wears Sailor Moon cosplay to family functions."


"An' I mean like so what if he looks like Joel McHale, that guy's weird an' lumpy anyway an-"

"HARE" Spine gently took Hare's face in his hands, forcing the babbling robot to make direct eye contact with him. "I don't care that you're related. That's not your fault. I'm glad you came to visit. I know you care. You don't have to prove it." Hare faltered, puffed a jet of smoke and nodded a little, looking awkward.

"Y-yeah. ... I mean yeah good I mean not like I was... yanno gonna... prove nuthin' 'r-" Mercifully, the door handle turning was enough to ruin that thought, and Hare was pretty quick to snap to the door. While being almost as old as the Walters themselves, Hare was still considerably faster than either of them. Coal generated more power after all. He beat the visitor to the punch and yanked open the door to stare down at-

"... You ugly goddamn sunnuva-" Spine had to almost throw himself at Hare to keep the steel bot from jamming a fist in the mouth of the very surprised looking Buster that was standing at the door, clearly not expecting Spine to have had any visitors. He had jumped back in preparation of getting his ass kicked by his estranged robotic great great uncle, but Spine had managed to yank back that fist in time. Buster took a moment to collect himself as Hare kicked up a tantrum at the door.

"I see you're busy, should I come back later?" He inquired with a charming smile. Hare was spitting tacks.

"YA GODDAMN PIECE A SHIT I'LL BREAK YER GODDAMN NOSE RIGHT OFF THAT SMUG LIL' PRETTY BOY FACE!" A silver hand clamped down over Hare's mouth as Spine fought to maintain a hold on Hare. Stronger though he may be, Hare was considerably more wiggly than he anticipated.

"I'd rather we talk about this much later." Or never. Never was good too. Seemed like Buster pretty much got the hint from Hare, who was now perfectly still, save for enraged quivering.

"Honestly. For a thing that was made by Thaddeus, you're being completely ridiculous. You don't own Spine." The inflection made it clear Hare probably shouldn't own much of anything. Hare was still gagged by that hand, but the poisonous green glare narrowed sharply. "Anyone is allowed to him. Besides, you're a Becile, why on earth are you playing body guard to a Walt-" He didn't get to finish that. Hare ducked, jabbed his elbow back, and just about jostled the Spine enough where he yanked himself free. One clawed hand grabbed Buster's shirt, and with an undignified yelp, the young man was sent into an opposing wall, head first. Hare slammed the door after him, dusting off his hands sharply while Spine let out a series of odd sputtering sounds.


"Nah, he's squishy. It'll have absorbed all the impact." Hare didn't seem bothered at all. Spine dragged a hand down his face and stormed towards the door, but Hare refused to budge.

"He probably has a concussion!" Now there were the sounds of loud knocks filling the room, the door shaking under the hammering. Hare arched a brow.

"Nah, concussed guys don't do that. Maybe I unuglied his face." Well, Spine wasn't going out there to all that yelling, he just groaned and scrubbed his hands through his hair.

"Gosh Darnit, Hare."

"Want me to do it again?"


"Good. How about he screw so loud he gets embarrassed an' leaves?" Spine stomped over to the bed and sat with a huff. Hare leaned against the door, with the worst smug, shit eating grin on his face. They didn't screw. But at the very least they were Buster free.


snaptrap: (Default)

September 2015

131415 16171819


RSS Atom

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Sep. 24th, 2017 01:45 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios