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30 June 2007 @ 10:10 am
People always look at me funny when I'm asked to introduce myself, or maybe that's just a little bit of paranoia seeping in. I never know what to say. It's like with my work, I'm a photographer, I prefer to be behind the camera than in front of it. You know? People just look at me expectantly, and I don't kow what I should be saying. But we'll try this anyway...

My name is Rebekah Roslin. There. Okay so I was very tempted to leave it at that. You can call me 'Biks', my Mom calls me 'Beka' but whatever... I was born on Caprica, and I have an art degree. I was studdying Journalism for a while and that's where I met my best friend D'Anna. What else can I tell you? I have a son named Isaac, we like to call him Izzy. He's the only guy in my life and I love him to death. Although, he's twelve so he doesn't really appreciate me blurting that out. I understand, my Mom used to do the same with me.

My parents. There's an interesting topic. My mother is Laura Roslin, now the President of the Twelve Colonies. I lived with her up until I started University, then I was on my own. Well no, I was with D'Anna but that's not the point. My Dad, it turns out, is Admiral William Adama. That was a shock and a half. I spent my life looking for him and getting nowhere, then suddenly the worlds end and he's... there. My parents are the two most influential people left in existence. Somehow not as fun as you'd think it would be. It's not like we have that much family time. You take what you can get. I should just be grateful that I have my family when so many others have lost theirs.

In other news, I should tell you, I am deaf. Have been since I was twelve. As if puberty wasn't bad enough. I am, however, quite capable of having a conversation. Please don't treat me like an idiot. I get the feeling, sometimes, my Mom still thinks of me as a little girl. I can read your lips and I can speak, so I'll have no difficulty understanding you unless you turn away from me. Although if you can sign, all the better for me.

I guess that's it really. If you'd like to know anything else, just ask.

And to those few pilots that have started calling me "Little Miss Airlock" it''s not funny, and just because my father likes you doesn't mean he'll find it amusing either. Besides the fact I'm thirty-five and do not enjoy being called "Little Miss" anything.

 
 
18 June 2007 @ 08:48 pm
You would think that for as often as I speak in public, I would have no problem with introducing myself in a public forum. But as it stands, talking about myself is not something I've ever excelled in doing. So, I'll just go for the basics.

My name is Laura Roslin, and I am the President of the 12 Colonies. It's been an arduous battle, to take a phrase from Bill Adama, and we aren't quite finished yet. Earth is still out on the horizon, and it's my job to ensure the human race makes it to their safe haven. We will survive as a species; we will not be forced into extinction.

I suppose that if you need to know anything else, you could just ask.

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02 June 2007 @ 05:12 am
Honestly? This is what I think of introductions.

Ever feel like you're constantly stretching and twisting, contorting to gather fragments of your own life into a recognizable order? But you just can't grasp one part without another slithering away from your grip? Kinda like chasing slippery balls of mercury - entirely useless.

...right.

My name's John Allerdyce. People tell me that there's a lack of tact and friendliness in my manner of expression but that's mostly because I haven't laughed in a long while (so don't expect me to humor you) or it could be because I just haven't had enough sleep.

I'm a pyrokinetic. A mutant. Not one of the good guys but that might just be a matter of perspective. Congratulations: you have successfully killed someone. Now, as an encore, sometime during this shift or the next, you'll get to do it again.
 
 
15 April 2007 @ 11:08 pm
The name is Bond. James Bond.

These days, it's a matter of public record that despite having a rank of Commander in the Royal Naval Reserve, I am in Her Majesty's employ as a Senior Operations Officer with the British Secret Intelligence Service, the group formerly known as MI-6. In layman's terms, that would make me a spy. A secret agent, if you will. And though the exact details of my endeavours on behalf of Crown and Country are highly classified, I can assure you that if you have ever wondered if the life of a real intellgence agent is as exciting and glamourous as the movies would have you believe, well... it's mostly true.

I do have a bit of a reputation, I'm told, as a reckless driver (I disagree, I am always in control), a womaniser (I do enjoy the company of the fairer sex), a demanding gourmand and heavy drinker (guilty as charged), and as rather a bastard at times. If that last is true, then I'll bet I'm the most charming bastard you'll ever meet. In fact, I'd just about guarantee it.

Cheers.

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02 April 2007 @ 10:58 am
Hi, I'm Ava Wilson and I'm a psychic. And I'm new here. So yup, I have visions. Impending doom, the apocalypse, and oh yeah, I might be part of some special army... Don't exactly know what side I'm on yet, but I'm working on it. Still up in the air with that. I might just flip a coin, get it over with y'know?

I was just a secretary from Peoria, Illinois, and bang - psychic. We'll not really, bang, it took a while.
I was engaged to be married, but I'm not anymore, there was a whole thing... I don't like to talk about it okay. I like Pop Rocks and I like Coke, but not at the same time. I went to college, was accidentally in a sorority (I actually liked it, just keeping my street cred), and I don't use my degree at all...

I'm "special" and that's about it. So there.
 
 
 
19 March 2007 @ 02:31 pm
So that's our lovely ex-President over there, waiting to be put to death. And somehow? I'm here after him.

Anyway, I'm Lt. Sharon Agathon, callsign "Athena", and yes. I'm one of those frakking Cylons you keep hearing about. Mention it around either me or my husband, though, and you're going to find yourself in a fight most likely.

I've got a daughter, Hera, who's my pride and joy. I love her. I love my husband, I love my job, and believe it or not, I am a traitor to my race. I'm onboard the Galactica as a Raptor jock, doing my best to prove to everybody I know that I'm a person, same as anyone else here. So, word of advice? Don't call me a toaster. Ever.

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Current Mood: crankycranky
 
 
12 February 2007 @ 10:46 am
So I’m seeing this girl, Lorelai...well, more than seeing her, we’re sort of engaged. Well...I guess you can’t ‘sort of’ be engaged to anyone, can you? So we’re engaged. And if we’re engaged, I guess she’s not the girl I’m seeing, she’s my fiancee. Even though I *am* seeing her still, but it’s different when you’re gonna marry someone, y’know?

Anyway. I love Lorelai...I do. I really, really love her. But the fact that I can’t say ‘no’ to that woman...a guy’s gotta be able to put his foot down, right? I mean, it’s a man’s *right* to tell anyone, even the woman he loves, to get lost. Am I right or am I wrong?

So Lorelai sees me on the internet a couple weeks ago, and out of nowhere asks me if I know how to do website stuff. Took me five minutes of going back and forth to realize she meant *website* stuff...coding, HTML, stuff like that. And yeah, I do know some basics...I mean, I took a couple computer classes a few years back when a lot of my banking stuff got easier to do online and they had a part...a lesson on the internet, and HTML.

And me, like an idiot, I made the mistake of *admitting* this to Lorelai, and before I knew it she was dragging me to her place after my shift at the diner and sitting me in front of her machine to tool around on this internet journal she had.

To make a long story short, she started showing me this LiveJournal thing she’s been hooked on for months now, and before I knew what I was doing I was not only offering to totally rework the code on her journal, but I’d agreed to get one of my own.

This, ladies and gentlemen, is the insidious and underhanded way that Lorelai Gilmore works. She makes you do her bidding, and she makes you like it. I mean, it’s just not fair! *You* try disagreeing with her when she does that...*thing* with her eyes and that little scrunchy thing with her nose...and that other thing with her mouth? Not pouting or smiling, but that other thing...I mean, God! Does she *have* to do that?

A man should be able to say *no*, damn it!

So...here I am. I’ve got the journal, Lorelai...happy?

Oh...right. I’m Luke, Luke Danes. Born in Star’s Hollow, I own and run Luke’s Diner...not a very original name, but hey, it works. So...there ya go.

I *REALLY* hope you’re happy, Lorelai...

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Current Mood: aggravatedaggravated
 
 
27 January 2007 @ 10:53 pm
I'm Dr. Kerry Weaver, emergency medicine doctor and former burocrat, mother of Henry Weaver-Lopez.
I'm not really sure what I'm thinking, opening so up so much of my life, but I suppose it won't do any damage at this point.
I've been living in Chicago for the past nineteen years, since I started medical school. It feels like a lifetime, but then, it's been nearly half of one.
My life revolves around my son, who's just turned three. He's energetic, caring, and still so sure there's magic in the world. He believes so strongly in it that sometimes, when he stumbles around the words to describe it, I can almost see the dragons lurking among snakes and chamelions at the zoo.
I love my work, being able to make a direct impact. I don't practice 'paper medicine', just staring at figures on a piece of paper and adjusting dosages. There is some of that in my job, but more often, it's hands on, and whether that's suturing a hand lac, reducing a luxation, or cutting someone's chest open in the hopes that their heart can be convinced to beat again, I know I'm doing something productive. There are patients who can't be helped, but just being able to say to a patient's family that they should recover, that makes it worth it.
 
 
23 January 2007 @ 03:19 pm
Here I could give you the company line. I'm not supposed to have a name. I'm not supposed to be any different. There are twelve models, and I'm number Six. Some would tell you I am nothing more than a machine, that programming made me the way I am. That much is true to an extent, but what was not planned, what was not programmed was human emotion. Real and tangible, I fell in love, and that changed me to my very core.

I suppose I should start at the beginning. The human race built machines, Cylons, as they were called, things to be produced and sold to make every-day life easier by taking care of the mundane tasks. The earliest of our brothers rebelled, they fought back. The evolution had already begun, and no one knew it yet. Peace was made. The Cylons were sent to a new solar system, a place where they could live and let the humans live in peace. It took fourty years, fourty years of not a single communication with the human world. We evolved, we became as human as could possibly be without actually being of that race. Humanity had made so many of their own suffer, and as far as the collective was concerned, they needed to be punished. I was on Caprica for two years before the Nuclear holacaust began. Two years to get myself into the defense mainframe, two years to seduce a man who could do just that. No one, least of all myself, expected that in those two years, I would fall in love with a man. A human, and I would sacrifice my own life for his. But then that isn't entirely true. I can't die. My memories are simply downloaded into an identical body. I will never know what comes after this life, because as far as I am concerned, this is eternity.

So yes, I am number Six, but I have come to embrace the name of Caprica, what I had been called by others like me on the planet of the same name. I was a hero to them, someone who was key in the obliteration of the human race. Was it worth it? Most would say yes, however I have come to the realization that the slaughter of the human race was a mistake, yet there is nothing we can do to change that.

Instead, we move forward. In search for a home called Earth, some will say it is a myth, but I believe that God has a plan for even us, even the "machines". My own personal destiny lies somewhere yet to be discovered. Yet I know that until then, I will continue to do what is right, even if that means betraying my own kind. I will protect the next generation of God's children, those who will lead the way to a better life, a new beginning for human and cylon alike.

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Current Location: Galactica
 
 
26 November 2006 @ 09:38 pm
What's there to say? My name's Chris, and I'm from the future.

No, seriously.

I guess you can say I'm not really into this sort of thing (was I that obvious?). Anyway, go ahead and blame my Aunt Paige for my being here. She's been bugging me to come and visit for as long as I can remember now. It shouldn't be all that bad, though. If nothing else, I'll be able to relax this time around what with things back home all taken care of. Well, in theory, anyway.

And who knows, maybe I'll even get to sleep at the manor this time around.

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