September/The Observer (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
someonetowatchoveryou) wrote2014-02-27 10:45 pm
someonetowatchoveryou) wrote2014-02-27 10:45 pm
application for Boomtown
Player's Name: I'm Yume!
Are you over 16? Oh dear lord, I'm old.
Characters Played Here: None, so far.
Character: The Observer/September (he has no other name in canon)
Series/Canon: Fringe
From When? S4, after the Episode "A Short Story About Love" but before "Brave New World."
History:
Observers in general
September in particular
Personality:
(Some of the information here is garnered from a print media source titled Fringe: September's Notebook, which I have been led to believe is considered canon by the show's creators.) On the surface, it would appear as though September has no personality. His manner is uniformly expressionless, and he evidences no easily discernible reactions. His speech is inflectionless and somewhat stilted, and conversations with him are brief and to the point. Emotional reactions on the part of other people evoke, at the most, a kind of detached curiosity.
However, curiosity is the key to looking beneath the surface of his psyche. The emotionlessness of Observerkind is, in part, a culturally ingrained trait. That it is also achieved through neural manipulation is not insurmountable when it comes to change given the sheer amount of system redundancy in the human brain, coupled with the fact that their technology has achieved a kind of neurogenesis, with the formation of additional gyri facilitating the creation of additional neural pathways. In short, the brain tissue is intact and, in fact, increased, which only serves to augment the aforementioned system redundancy. This system redundancy has been shown to repeatedly facilitate the return of previously lost brain function. What this means, of course, is that, given the proper stimulus, it is entirely possible for an Observer to regain emotional function. In fact, it could be argued that it was never fully excised in the first place, merely hidden. For September, that stimulus was curiosity. The remit of the scientific team of which he is a member is to witness significant events in history in an impartial manner. This is something September could not do. His curiosity overrode his impartiality and he became involved. This led to further involvement in order to course-correct the timestream, and over the course of this involvement, his curiosity shifted from the event to the people involved in the event.
In fine, he wanted to know what love was.
Over the course of the series, he witnesses what love can do--romantic love and familial love. He sees a man literally tear a hole in the universe to rescue an alternate of his son. He sees a woman contact her dead lover in a series of dreams. He sees a family form out of diverse individuals who ordinarily would not have any contact with each other were it not for the events surrounding them. He sees one of his own colleagues fall in love and suffer and die for that fact. He sees love literally bring back into being someone who had been obliterated from reality. And through that curiosity, wanting to know what love is, why it is capable of such drastic good and evil, and through his involvement, he starts to develop the beginnings of compassion, sorrow, and wonder. He starts to see the people he has been observing as perhaps family to him, as well. Interacting with them has eroded his impartiality. He wants to protect them, now.
What does that mean for him in the present? It means that he now has to work to remain impartial, and that emotions may broadside him at any moment. He clings to emotionlessness and impartiality as a constant. Beneath the expressionless exterior, however, his psyche is divided between the cool, logical, somewhat Machiavellian Observer who tows the line of noninterference unless it preserves the timeline; and the compassionate, brave, and fragile human who has found a family and found that he is more loyal to them than to his own people.
September is terrifyingly intelligent, sharp-eyed, and intuitive, yet completely at sea when it comes to interaction; he can read thoughts but emotions can mislead him; he lives in the big picture, and yet the smallest things can throw him off entirely. He has started to doubt the orders he has received from his superiors--preservation of events has revealed itself to him as being something distressingly subjective. Furthermore, he has found he does not agree with the viewpoint that said subjectivity favours.
Up to this canon point, he has scarcely been touched in any capacity. He is completely unaccustomed to gestures of compassion, and when it did happen in canon he was understandably confused by it.
Why do you think your character would work in this setting?
Maybe they need Observer technology or an emotionless, intelligent viewpoint or someone who can survive outside the dome for indefinite periods. September is not particularly satisfied with being an Observer at this point in his canon. He'll take up the offer, mainly because his curiosity about a new planet will override any sense of responsibility for his mission. He remains confident that he can go back in time to the day he left Earth once he's done, after all.
Inventory:
One (1) briefcase containing the following: one (1) pair of what appear to be vintage field glasses, Dietz-Hagen, 25x25 m/m, which contain advanced surveillance technology. One (1) device resembling an early-00s slide-type mobile phone, which contains advanced GPS and intertemporal communications technology, marked with unknown typography and a set of four indicator lights--three green and one red. One (1) pistol-type energy firearm, nonlethal. One (1) power cell for abovementioned firearm. One (1) case, translucent plastic, containing fifteen (15) two-inch diameter data storage discs. One (1) leather-bound blankbook, 70% filled with handwritten text in ideograms resembling typography on communications device. One (1) terry cloth towel, grey, 30inx20in. One silver metal box, 7inx7inx4in containing one (1) pair of standard sunglasses; three (3) ballpoint pens, black ink; one (1) black leather sheath containing one (1) multitool marked "Leatherman"; one (1) coil of string measuring seventeen (17) inches; one (1) toothbrush still in packaging; one (1) tube of mint toothpaste, unopened.
Clearly this man is a master at Tetris.
Third-Person Sample:
September's first go at comforting someone works surprisingly well.
September's fighting tactics, such as they are. He's stoic as all getout but still not the toughest of people.
September when confronted by officials relying on magic and, furthermore, disparaging science.
And just for shits and giggles, here's the test drive.
First-Person Sample:
He doesn't talk much, so I have two samples here.
Are you over 16? Oh dear lord, I'm old.
Characters Played Here: None, so far.
Character: The Observer/September (he has no other name in canon)
Series/Canon: Fringe
From When? S4, after the Episode "A Short Story About Love" but before "Brave New World."
History:
Observers in general
September in particular
Personality:
(Some of the information here is garnered from a print media source titled Fringe: September's Notebook, which I have been led to believe is considered canon by the show's creators.) On the surface, it would appear as though September has no personality. His manner is uniformly expressionless, and he evidences no easily discernible reactions. His speech is inflectionless and somewhat stilted, and conversations with him are brief and to the point. Emotional reactions on the part of other people evoke, at the most, a kind of detached curiosity.
However, curiosity is the key to looking beneath the surface of his psyche. The emotionlessness of Observerkind is, in part, a culturally ingrained trait. That it is also achieved through neural manipulation is not insurmountable when it comes to change given the sheer amount of system redundancy in the human brain, coupled with the fact that their technology has achieved a kind of neurogenesis, with the formation of additional gyri facilitating the creation of additional neural pathways. In short, the brain tissue is intact and, in fact, increased, which only serves to augment the aforementioned system redundancy. This system redundancy has been shown to repeatedly facilitate the return of previously lost brain function. What this means, of course, is that, given the proper stimulus, it is entirely possible for an Observer to regain emotional function. In fact, it could be argued that it was never fully excised in the first place, merely hidden. For September, that stimulus was curiosity. The remit of the scientific team of which he is a member is to witness significant events in history in an impartial manner. This is something September could not do. His curiosity overrode his impartiality and he became involved. This led to further involvement in order to course-correct the timestream, and over the course of this involvement, his curiosity shifted from the event to the people involved in the event.
In fine, he wanted to know what love was.
Over the course of the series, he witnesses what love can do--romantic love and familial love. He sees a man literally tear a hole in the universe to rescue an alternate of his son. He sees a woman contact her dead lover in a series of dreams. He sees a family form out of diverse individuals who ordinarily would not have any contact with each other were it not for the events surrounding them. He sees one of his own colleagues fall in love and suffer and die for that fact. He sees love literally bring back into being someone who had been obliterated from reality. And through that curiosity, wanting to know what love is, why it is capable of such drastic good and evil, and through his involvement, he starts to develop the beginnings of compassion, sorrow, and wonder. He starts to see the people he has been observing as perhaps family to him, as well. Interacting with them has eroded his impartiality. He wants to protect them, now.
What does that mean for him in the present? It means that he now has to work to remain impartial, and that emotions may broadside him at any moment. He clings to emotionlessness and impartiality as a constant. Beneath the expressionless exterior, however, his psyche is divided between the cool, logical, somewhat Machiavellian Observer who tows the line of noninterference unless it preserves the timeline; and the compassionate, brave, and fragile human who has found a family and found that he is more loyal to them than to his own people.
September is terrifyingly intelligent, sharp-eyed, and intuitive, yet completely at sea when it comes to interaction; he can read thoughts but emotions can mislead him; he lives in the big picture, and yet the smallest things can throw him off entirely. He has started to doubt the orders he has received from his superiors--preservation of events has revealed itself to him as being something distressingly subjective. Furthermore, he has found he does not agree with the viewpoint that said subjectivity favours.
Up to this canon point, he has scarcely been touched in any capacity. He is completely unaccustomed to gestures of compassion, and when it did happen in canon he was understandably confused by it.
Why do you think your character would work in this setting?
Maybe they need Observer technology or an emotionless, intelligent viewpoint or someone who can survive outside the dome for indefinite periods. September is not particularly satisfied with being an Observer at this point in his canon. He'll take up the offer, mainly because his curiosity about a new planet will override any sense of responsibility for his mission. He remains confident that he can go back in time to the day he left Earth once he's done, after all.
Inventory:
One (1) briefcase containing the following: one (1) pair of what appear to be vintage field glasses, Dietz-Hagen, 25x25 m/m, which contain advanced surveillance technology. One (1) device resembling an early-00s slide-type mobile phone, which contains advanced GPS and intertemporal communications technology, marked with unknown typography and a set of four indicator lights--three green and one red. One (1) pistol-type energy firearm, nonlethal. One (1) power cell for abovementioned firearm. One (1) case, translucent plastic, containing fifteen (15) two-inch diameter data storage discs. One (1) leather-bound blankbook, 70% filled with handwritten text in ideograms resembling typography on communications device. One (1) terry cloth towel, grey, 30inx20in. One silver metal box, 7inx7inx4in containing one (1) pair of standard sunglasses; three (3) ballpoint pens, black ink; one (1) black leather sheath containing one (1) multitool marked "Leatherman"; one (1) coil of string measuring seventeen (17) inches; one (1) toothbrush still in packaging; one (1) tube of mint toothpaste, unopened.
Clearly this man is a master at Tetris.
Third-Person Sample:
September's first go at comforting someone works surprisingly well.
September's fighting tactics, such as they are. He's stoic as all getout but still not the toughest of people.
September when confronted by officials relying on magic and, furthermore, disparaging science.
And just for shits and giggles, here's the test drive.
First-Person Sample:
He doesn't talk much, so I have two samples here.