It's like Seinfeld and Jack the Ripper had a cranky baby

Player Information
*Name/Alias: Squid
*Your Journal: Hailthenarc
*Age: 23
*Contact Information: AIM: Squiddlypeon, Plurk: Squiddly
*Characters already in the game: N/A

Character Information
*Character Name: Mordecai Heller
*Character Canon: Lackadaisy
*Age: 28
*Race: Cat. American Shorthair.
*Timeline/Pull Point: Lackadaisy: Monomania, after his conversation with Mitzy.

*History: Mordecai was born to a pair of German-Jewish immigrants in a New York slum in 1899, the oldest of three sisters, one of whom died as an infant. His father passed on while he was young, though his mother is still alive today. He was a bookish nerd as a child, and felt responsible for and took care of his younger siblings. He had a pretty normal life growing up, though it is hinted that a stray bullet to the head might have started his unhinged, violent streak. This has not been confirmed and is little more than a rumor, but it would certainly explain why an otherwise normal child grew up to be such a monster.

He took a job as a bookie at thirteen for various legitimate and… otherwise operations, having always had a head for numbers. At the age of seventeen, he killed his first man, and at 21, he joined the Lackadaisy speakeasy and started his career as a hitman, bodyguard and rumrunner. It was said he was taken in by Atlas May after he'd been on the run from some associates that worked with a grifter, and learned most of what he knows now from him.

Due to certain extenuating circumstances however after the death of Lackadaisy’s owner, Mordecai left to join another group called Marigold, and came to work under A man by the name of Asa Sweet. Which is where he is to this day, until a more profitable opportunity shows up.

*Personality: Mordecai Heller outwardly appears to be a prim and proper, if emotionally distant and distinctly creepy fellow from New York. … He is prim at least, but being a cold blooded murderer, rumrunner, thief and lock picker is somewhat outside the realm of ‘proper’. He’s HIGHLY OCPD, with some distinct sociopathic traits and utter ineptitude at anything resembling a social life. Everything has to be just so, the napkins folded right, the table cloth straight, clothes pressed and ironed, cufflinks in place, so on and so forth, or else he gets quite distressed. He doesn’t have a sense of humor and flirting is beyond him. Essentially he is an asexual misanthrope with no desire to change anytime soon, dead-pan and annoyed on a good day. Coldly intelligent and lacking in any sort of mercy or sense of justice, Mordecai kills not for fun or for a thrill, but for money, and no, there is no angst about it. He’s really not a blood thirsty maniac, but it is suggested that one attempt not to insult or disgust the triggerman as it tends not to end very well.

Mordecai is not well known for his stunning personality or charm. Frankly, he's about as charming as a board with a nail in it. He has exactly two normal emotions: annoyed and angry. There is rarely a moment where he is not either. At some points, he is entirely neutral, and he might even be able to reach the mystical level of 'happy', but these are rare and far between points, and usually only happen when he is utterly alone and left to his own devices without inturruption or distraction. He prefers to appear detatched and uncaring of most anything, but generally just comes across as irritable. Things that would normally disgust or horrify a normal person (murder, violence, graphic death) have no effect on him emotionally or psychologically, which is good for him considering his job. He is far more distraught and terrified of the idea of losing his cufflinks than he is with the idea of bludgeoning a man to death with a crowbar.

He is an overwhelmingly logical individual, to a certain extent, usually preferring to take the more reasonable approach to things. Well, reasonable to him. If reasonable to him means kneecapping a life long partner because they refused to retire, then so be it. Rather, perhaps it is better to say he takes the more efficiant course of action. And Mordecai is nothing if not utterly efficiant. It helps when one has almost no moral compass. He is not immoral, but rather amoral, not even having the slightest clue as to what 'morals' may be. Or rather, he subscribes to his own version of morals, ones that serve him better than the one society regulates themselves to. While he can, for the most part, at least act like an average person on a normal basis, it can be said that he could just as easily murder someone as he could talk to them.

*Powers/Abilities: Sharp shooter, highly intelligent, extremely adaptable, head for numbers, fast thinker, flexible, generally pretty quick, excellent climber.

*Inventory: The clothes on his back and his gun!

*Starting Polarity: Megatronus Prime

Writing Samples

*First Person Sample: Viktor.
[The cat's face was the perfect example of annoyance on the video feed, paws clasped before him, intwined with one another]

I am aware that we are not exactly working together any longer, but there is little need for you to remove yourself from society. Polite society perhaps, but I would still like to be able to locate you on the off chance that I must speak with you. One of us is acting like a child, and I can assure you it is not me.

You've left me with little choice in the matter but to involve others. I'm sure there are one or two people out there that you haven't managed to frighten away, so I'll appeal to them.

If any of you happen to find a gigantic one eyed poorly dressed irritable brute in suspenders, please tell him to be reasonable for once in his life and return to his assumed home here?

*Third Person Sample: Mordecai was annoyed. Not that this was any different from his normal state, but today it was more pronounced than usual. It had started off as a bad day. He woke up to find mice had found their way into his pantry, biscuit crumbs and small pyramids of flour on the wheat family shelf forcing him to rearrange the whole damn pantry to find the mouse hole and to relocate whatever goods remained unmolested. The paper had been two minutes late, he was out of blueberry tea, and when he arrived at Asa’s office, someone had forgotten to empty the ashtray and he would not be sitting in a room with that noxious collection of saliva and ash.

It probably went a long way to explain just why he was where he was now; doing what he was doing right now. After a long, harrying, obnoxious, inconvenient and otherwise irredeemable day, he was in no mood to do anyone any favors. And the ungrateful mess below him was doing very little to alleviate his temper.

“I would like to believe I have been a terribly patient man.” Though the words were not said inasmuch as hissed through clenched teeth. “I practically chauffer you around the country side for three hours, in my new car, no less. I tolerated the atrocities you’ve committed against the upholstery in there, of which I can only pray I can remove the stench. I make every effort to ensure that everything goes exactly according to the plan to the very last minute detail. I do not believe it is too much to ask that you offer up just a little compensation for the expense that I put in!” His tone suggested that he longed to yell, and he admired his sense of self control in this situation, the cats tone dipping to a venomous and dangerously annoyed snarl.

It was with a long suffering sigh that he collected himself, blocking out the stammered protests of his unfortunate company. “No. Just shut up. Just please, stop talking for a moment.” He massaged a temple lightly. “I will only say this one more time, and I really do implore you to listen this time. Carefully.” The hammer was already in place, but the muzzle of the CZ handgun pointed sharply down at the wide eyed, dirt streaked snitch that stood quivering in the four foot deep hole in the ground.

“Six feet down. Exactly six. I will tell you when to stop digging, if it will just make you do this one, simple little job just a little quicker.”

Honestly, people these days.