Canon Character Sign-Up Sheet

I'll be auditioning for the role of Brittany.

Ding ding ding! Brittany proudly added the red prize tickets to her collection. She wasn't sure what number she had, but it was a plastic bag full of them - of course it had to be a lot. It was time for skee ball. The blonde had always failed to get the balls in the center. She didn't know why - cheer leading give her tons of upper arm strength - but it seemed to be the only arcade game that she couldn't get tons of tickets in.

"Haha, you suck!" Brittany turned around to a young tyke and frowned, her eyes starting to water. "You gonna cry baby?! You're such a wuss!" The young tyke ran out of the arcade, leaving the usual bubbly blonde a crying mess.

After several minutes crying in front of the skee ball machine, Brittany walked over to the counter and bought a stuffed animal - a yellow duck. She walked out of the arcade, hugging the duck tightly, being the bubbly blonde everyone knows her to be.





Really good application! Welcome to the RP Brittany! ~ Rachel (May)

((So, this is me, Artie. After talking it over with the staff, they decided that I should probably take Lisa Esplin, because I made her. *shrug*))



Walking down the hallway in her tight blue jeans, Lisa couldn't believe what she was seeing. So this was McKinley High School? It looked like someone had face-lifted the school from Saved By The Bell and moved it, students and all, into the middle of Ohio. Putting a perfectly manicured hand into her pocket, she scowled at what she saw around her. Some students looked strangely at her, raising eyebrows, whispering. She didn't care - Lisa wasn't in her own school, so what was the difference?

She was here to speak with a very special certain someone. Lisa was good at searching out information, and Aural Intensity desperately needed some information from the inside concerning... New Directions. The name made Lisa shudder uncontrollably. Those freaks with their feel-good emotions were actually going to be a threat next year in Sectionals. Lisa could just tell. They weren't robots, like those other freaks, the watchamacallits, Vocal Adrenaline. And with Corcoran gone, yeah, they were as good as dead next year. But New Directions. They had time and talent and the ability to recruit new talent. Aural Intensity was exclusive, and not ragtag, and not made of suck, but they, too, were like New Directions once upon a time.

Lisa tossed some blonde tresses over her shoulder before passing a door with some... interesting writing on it. A flyer, for New Directions. She pulled it off the wall and crumpled it up, walking a few more feet to a trash can right in front of the office she was looking for. Smiling at the name Sue Sylvester on the door, she knocked politely, hoping that the most caustic of last year's Regionals judges would be able to enlighten her on the weaknesses of that ragtag group of losers.

Heya – I’ll be trying out for the role of Santana Lopez


Okay, now Santana was just pissed. She’d been playing this game for almost an hour now and yet she still felt no closer to winning it. She sighed, pushing yet more money into the slot with a little more force than perhaps was necessary, gritting her teeth with determination as she eyed the machine in front of her - the dreaded claw crane. Was there a more worthy competitor? Santana was certain it was rigged, no doubt intentionally raising her hopes when the claw actually did grab a toy, only to let it slip from its grasp toward the end. Santana didn’t even like the game; it was frustrating, childish and annoying as hell, yet as soon as the two Cheerios had walked into that arcade Santana had known her fate. They had been standing in the entrance for what couldn’t have been more than two seconds when Brittany was tugging her forwards like an excited (yet, Santana had conceded, very cute) puppy, pointing and yelling at the stuffed, yellow duck lying on top of the pile of prizes.

What else could she have done? Sure, Santana was known for her bad-ass reputation and ability to diminish ones’ hopes and dreams with a simple look, but when Brittany started pleading like that? How could she possibly say no to that? Of course, the brunette hadn’t given in right away, she had attempted to stand her ground and tried to explain just why it was such a stupid idea, but both girls knew just how that particular stand-off would end. So here they were, playing this stupid game in this stupid arcade in stupid Lima, when Santana could be doing a multitude of other, better things with her time.

The red light flashed and the now familiar end game music started playing, signalling that the girl had failed again in her mission to secure the duck for her friend. Santana let out a frustrated yell, throwing her arms in the air and kicking out at the machine. Why wouldn’t it let her win?!? The damn duck was right there, she could see it staring out smugly at her, mocking her and her incompetence! If Coach Sylvester were here, she would be yelling at the cheerleader through her bullhorn already and making her do laps around the slot machines.

‘Maybe we should just go home…’ started Brittany, her tone concerned and her arms laden with the various toys Santana had already won that were not yellow ducks. She had a good reason to be worried – Santana had rolled her sleeves up, her hair had all but escaped completely from her ponytail and if the little kid crying in the far corner was anything to go by after Santana had screamed at him for bumping into her, then she was pretty tense.

‘No’ she replied tersely, digging around in her purse for any scraps of change she might have missed. ‘You think I’m going to be beaten by a duck? A stuffed duck! Hell, no, like that can beat me – I’m a Cheerio, the Cheerio in fact. I can do this Britt, don’t worry’, rather than reassuring the other girl though, it only seemed to worry her further, and Santana could feel Brittany tugging on her upper arm in a desperate attempt to dislodge her from the machine.

‘But San…’ she heard, the whine in Brittany’s voice evident. Santana spared her a glance before focusing on the duck again, its’ plastic eyes just challenging her to try again.

‘Just one more time, B. Trust me, I have it beat. There’s no way I can lose’, and with that Santana Lopez, Head Cheerleader, Top-Dog of McKinley High and all round tough cookie, gripped the controls again as the music started up for the umpteenth time. She would beat this, even if it took her all night.

And we have ourselves a Santana! Welcome aboard ;D - Finn

Hi, I'm applying for the character of Sue Sylvester! Here's my audition:

Sue sat in her office writing in her journal:

Dear Journal, what is it with today's youth and breaking into tears every five seconds. Too much breast milk I say. But then again, is it possible that my former protege is right? Is Sue Sylvester so terrifying that she is as loved as Saddam? IMPOSSIBLE! I'm like Betty White, only not as easily written into lesbian fan fiction written by people like Sandy Ryerson.

Sighing in frustration, Sue stabbed at the page with quite a bit of venom. Somehow, Quinn Fabray had gotten under her skin and now had her questioning herself. Deciding to not let herself get affected by it, she pulled her Cheerios roster over. Looking at the list, she scratched two names off the list. ' Right, Jefferson and Thompson, you're off the Cheerios and out of my hair!' She thought evilly. Her eyes were drawn towards three particular cheerleaders: Her minions Santana Lopez and Brittany ------- and her leading vocalist Kurt Hummel. Seeing these names gave her an idea. 'This will work,' She thought,' And they will be so exhausted, they be too tired to be any use to that annoying Schuester!' Grabbing a pen and a new sheet of paper, she began to plan out her new scheme.




Now we have our Sue Sylvester! Welcome to the RP! ;D ~ Rachel (May)

I'm auditioning for the role of Noah "Puck" Puckerman.

The summer sun beat relentlessly over the Ohio town. Every normal person was outside sweating their life away mowing the grass or tending to a job. Excluding, of course, guys like Noah "Puck" Puckerman. Naturally bronzed and seemingly fit, he figured that blessing the world with his awesomeness was enough as far as productivity went. Besides, the school year had been a whole different level of difficult. Puck was at least entitled to being able to sleep in without his mother's distinct, nasally shriek waking him to go water the grass or something.

Rays of sunlight protruded through the glass of Puck's bedroom window, disturbing him nonetheless. The midmorning light felt like searing hot lamps to the jock's unaccustomed eyes. He lay in bed, mentally cursing himself for not have closing the blinds of his room. Puck pulled the covers over his eyes, wishing that he didn't have to like... get up.

Yeah. What if he just lived in a world where he could sleep all day? The stupid sun would never bother him or anything. It'd just be him and his bed for the rest of his life. Actually. If he was allowed to create Puck World, he might as well make it the greatest place that a teenage guy could ever pray to live in. First of all, there would be girls everywhere. And not just the average ones that you see at the grocery store. No, he was was imagining the ones that dance on tables in music videos. And there would be every junk food that ever graced the aisles of WalMart. Twinkies, frozen pizza, hell, even those little potato pancakes that his mom made such a huge deal about. Puck had to grin to himself, somewhat pleased that he could articulate such a vivid idea this early. It was only noon, after all. And anyways, during the summertime, noon is the equivalent to six in the morning.

The idea appealed him to more and more, just as his belated alarm clock went off. Puck slammed on the device, tempted to send it flying. The obnoxious ringing served as a rude awakening and proof that trying to set up an alarm clock was pretty damned hard. Seriously, didn't it come up with an instructions manuel or something? Or at least labels. In any case, Puck lay his head back down on the green pillow. A groan escaped his lips as he realized that his own personal world of always sleeping on his awesome comforter and firm pillows was so far away from the reality that he was living now.

puck squeezed his eyes once more, as if to chase away the redness that was on the inside of his eyelids. He sat up, rubbing the back of his head. He could feel the soft stubble beginning to sprout. Puck felt almost incomplete without his signature mohawk; it was kind of like that thing that everybody knew him for, and it was taking its sweet time to replenish itself and go back to its mohawky glory. He pushed himself to the edge of the bed, so that his legs hung off the bed. Puck stared at his feet, which had tanlines from the flip-flops he had sported the other day. He looked pretty damn good in them, too.

Then again, Puck usually did pride himself with looking good unconditionally. Even now! The dude just woke up and looked like a god. Again, he figured it had to be karma or something. He was definitely a Greek warrior in his past-life. Or an emperor. He could just imagine himself wearing one of those toga's and being fed grapes by busty slave-ladies. Togas were probably an excuse for the Roman emperors to show off their junk. That, or Puck was the guy who founded the NYPD. Come to think of it... could Jews be cops? Eh, that was irrelevant, he supposed, walking over to put a shirt on.

Puck slipped on a gray shirt that was sprawled on the floor. It smelled clean enough, he thought, searching for a pair of jeans from his closet. His closet was by no means organized, but it sufficed. It did exactly what closets were put on Earth to do: put away anything that wouldn't fit underneath a bed. As Puck selected a pair of jeans with minimal stains on them, he saw his radio from the corner of his eye. He reached over to turn it on.

Initially, the old-fashioned black radio emitted some static. But after Puck fumbled around with the dial, it tuned in onto a local station that played a morning--err, noon show. It was fuzzy, but it served as background noise for Puck as he finished getting ready. The station finished playing a song with a lot of guitar strumming. After a brief introduction by the dee-jay, Puck heard the familiar bars of Alphaville's Forever Young. Puck couldn't help but hum along to synthpop introduction.

"Heaven can wait we're only watching the skies..." Puck sang under his breath, enjoying the classic song. Admittedly, he knew every word to the song. Puck eyed his own guitar in the corner of room. He turned up the volume on the radio, and picked up his guitar. he straddled it's soft, oak body and began to strum along with the song. It didn't song nearly as good, because his guitar was not tuned, but as the chorus played, Puck could feel himself getting into it. "Let us die young, or let us live forever," his gravelly voice offered a classic rock sounding version of the song. He began to ignore the thin wall and increase the volume of his voice.

'I wanna be forever young." Wasn't that the truth?



~That is a really great sample RP! You're Puck now. ;D Welcome to the RP! ;D - Rachel (May) ;D