Post by Wess Sadowski on Feb 10, 2011 21:28:13 GMT -6
( WESS SADOWSKI )
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( 25 , USER , JOSEPH GORDON-LEVITT, PROGRAMMER)
( PERFECTIONIST , BUILDER , SPEED-DEMON , LOYAL , ALONE)[/center]
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WESS HAS A PHENOMENAL RECORD AS A HIGH LEVEL COMPUTER PROGRAMMER, WORKING WITH SUCH COMPANIES AS APPLE AND MICROSOFT, AS WELL AS A FEW ENGINEERING CAD COMPANIES. WITH ONLY EIGHT YEARS OF PERIODIC EMPLOYMENT THOUGH HIS TRANSCRIPTS LOOK SOMEWHAT UNAPPEALING. THE FIRST THING PEOPLE THINK OF IS "WHY CAN'T HE KEEP A JOB?" THAT IS WHERE THE PROBLEM LIES. WHENEVER WESS WAS PUT ON A TEAM TO IMPROVE A PROGRAM, HE WOULD DO HIS PART EXTRAORDINARILY WELL, AND EVEN BE ABLE TO PINPOINT PROBLEM AREAS WITHIN TENS OF THOUSANDS OF LINES OF CODE. THE UNFORTUNATE THING WAS THAT HE COULD SEE PROBLEM AREAS THAT OTHERS COULDN'T. HIS PERFECTIONIST ATTITUDE WOULD CAUSE HIM TO WANT TO HOLD PROGRAMS FROM RELEASING IN ORDER TO FIX POTENTIAL PROBLEMS. WHEN THE CO'S FINALLY MADE HIM ALLOW THE PROGRAMS TO BE RELEASED HE WOULD BE FURIOUS. IN EACH CASE THE COMPANY WOULD FIRE HIM. NEEDLESS TO SAY, MANY MAJOR UPDATES WOULD BE NEEDED IN ORDER FOR THE RELEASES TO SUCCEED, TAKING AWAY VALUABLE PROGRAMMING TIME FOR ERROR SOLVING. WESS' PARTS OF THE PROGRAMS WOULD ALWAYS WORK FLAWLESSLY.
AS FOR A SOCIAL LIFE, WESS HAD NONE. HE WAS TOO ENVELOPED IN A WORLD OF COMPUTER CODE THAT HE HARDLY EVER WENT OUT TO SOCIALIZE. EVERYONE KNEW HOW ANTISOCIAL HE WAS, EVEN HIMSELF. UNFORTUNATELY HIS DEDICATION TO HIS WORK WOULD ALWAYS GET THE BEST OF HIM AND HE WOULD PUSH ON, FIXING MORE AND MORE CODE.
AFTER HIS LAST JOB FELL THRU, WESS WENT INTO A DEEP DEPRESSION. HE COULDN'T PULL HIMSELF OUT OF IT. THERE WAS NOBODY TO HELP HIM. HE DIDN'T HAVE ANY FRIENDS, AND HIS FAMILY WAS LONG GONE. HIS MOTHER DIED OF CANCER JUST AFTER HIS SECOND JOB, AND HE NEVER KNEW HIS FATHER. NO SIBLINGS EITHER. FINALLY AFTER NEARLY HALF A YEAR HE DECIDED TO START APPLYING FOR JOBS AGAIN, AFTER NOTICING HOW LOW HIS BANK ACCOUNT WAS GETTING. THAT WAS WHEN HE GOT AN INTERVIEW AT ENCOM.
IT WAS SAM FLYNN THAT INTERVIEWED HIM PERSONALLY. WESS LOOKED LIKE A BROKEN MAN NOW, SHOULDERS SLOUCHED AND BAGS UNDER HIS EYES NEARLY EVERY MOMENT OF EVERY DAY. HE WAS ABLE TO ANSWER ALL OF THE INTERVIEW QUESTIONS WITH CONFIDENCE BUT THE HEART JUST WASN'T IN HIS VOICE. THERE WAS ONE QUESTION THAT CHANGED EVERYTHING THOUGH. SAM ASKED HIM WHAT HE THOUGHT OF THIS WORLD.
"THERE'S NOTHING HERE FOR ME. ALL I CAN DO NOW IS SURVIVE."
SAM, KNOWING THE GENIUS THAT LAY BENEATH THIS BROKEN MAN, EXPLAINED THE CONCEPT OF THE GRID. AT FIRST WESS COULDN'T GRASP WHAT HE WAS SAYING, NOT HAVING BEEN A TRON FAN AS A KID. WHEN SAM SHOWED HIM THE GRID, WESS ONLY SAID ONE THING, IN WHICH SAM SAID HE COULD.
"I COULD LIVE HERE FOREVER."
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •
EXPERIENCE: 8 YEARS
WHERE DID YOU FIND US: PROBOARDS ADVERT.
CONTACT: MSN:LIKEITORNOT55@HOTMAIL.COM
ROLEPLAY SAMPLE
THE CROWD WAS WILD. PEOPLE SCREAMED AT THE TOP OF THEIR LUNGS AS SIX LIGHT CYCLES SCREAMED AROUND THE COURSE. ALL SIX ROOKIES FLEW DOWN RAMPS, AROUND PILLARS, AND UP SPIRALS, TRYING TO CUT OFF THEIR OPPONENTS AND GAIN A WIN. IT WAS A STALEMATE THOUGH. ALL SIX ROOKIES WERE TOO SCARED TO TRY OUT THEIR SKILLS, THINKING THAT IF THEY TRIED ANYTHING RISKY THAT THEY WOULD LOSE THEIR CHANCE AT MAKING IT TO THE BIG LEAGUES. IT WAS STARTING TO GET IRRITATING, WATCHING THEM PULL BACK AND FORTH, SCARED OF THE LIGHTSTREAMS.
WESS PACED ANGRILY BACK AND FORTH BY THE PITS. HE HAD DESIGNED THE BIKE THAT HIS PARTNER WAS USING, BUT HIS PARTNER WAS THE WORST ONE OUT THERE. HE TRAILED ALONG THE SIDE OF THE ARENA WAITING TO TRY AND SNIPE OFF ANY UNSUSPECTING OPPONENT. IT WOULD WORK SOMETIMES, BUT NOT IN A COMPETITION WHERE EVERYONE WAS EVENLY MATCHED. THEY ALL KNEW WHERE THEIR OPPONENTS WERE AT ANY GIVEN TIME, MAKING HIS STRATEGY NULL AND WESS FURIOUS. FROM TIME TO TIME HE WOULD RUN TO THE WINDOW AND SHOUT AT HIS PARTNER WHO COULDN'T HEAR HIM ANYWAY. WESS WOULD KICK THE BARRIER IN FRUSTRATION AND START PACING AGAIN.
EACH INTERMISSION HIS PARTNER WOULD PIT AND START COMPLAINING AT HOW THE CYCLE DIDN'T FEEL RIGHT, LIKE IT WAS ACTING UP. WESS STOMPED OVER TO IT AND PULLED UP THE CODE. AS HE FLICKED THE CODE AROUND, MOVING PIECES AND RECALIBRATING VARIABLES, THE BIKE WOULD SHIFT SLIGHTLY, LENGTHENING ITS WHEELBASE FRACTIONS OF INCHES, WIDEN ITS STANCE, OR SINK LOWER TO THE GROUND. WHEN THE INTERMISSION ENDED HIS PARTNER WOULD HOP BACK ON IT AND RACE OUT TO THE ARENA. NOTHING WOULD CHANGE THOUGH, CAUSING WESS TO GET EVEN MORE FURIOUS. "STEP ON IT YOU PRICK!" HE WOULD SHOUT, OR "TURN THAT SON OF A BITCH! YOU'VE GOT THE TRACTION! GOD!"
AT THE END OF THE LAST INTERMISSION HIS PARTNER CAME IN. "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING OUT THERE! YOU'VE GOT ONE OF THE BEST CYCLES ON THE GRID AND YOU'RE RUNNING AROUND LIKE A CHICKEN!" WESS SHOUTED AT HIM.
"IT'S NOT HANDLING RIGHT." HIS PARTNER COMPLAINED AGAIN
"LIKE HELL IT IS!" WESS SNAPPED AT HIM, GRABBING THE ROD FROM HIM AND WALKING TOWARD THE GAME GRID. HE GRABBED HIS DISK AND PUSHED IT AGAINST THE ACCESS PANEL BEFORE RUNNING OUT ONTO THE ARENA.
"YOU CAN'T DRIVE! YOU'RE JUST A STUPID BUILDER!" HIS PARTNERS INSULTS WERE LEFT BEHIND AS HE PULLED THE ROD APART, MATERIALIZING THE LIGHT CYCLE BENEATH HIMSELF. HE'D SHOW HIM HOW TO USE THIS DAMN LIGHTCYCLE.
WESS PACED ANGRILY BACK AND FORTH BY THE PITS. HE HAD DESIGNED THE BIKE THAT HIS PARTNER WAS USING, BUT HIS PARTNER WAS THE WORST ONE OUT THERE. HE TRAILED ALONG THE SIDE OF THE ARENA WAITING TO TRY AND SNIPE OFF ANY UNSUSPECTING OPPONENT. IT WOULD WORK SOMETIMES, BUT NOT IN A COMPETITION WHERE EVERYONE WAS EVENLY MATCHED. THEY ALL KNEW WHERE THEIR OPPONENTS WERE AT ANY GIVEN TIME, MAKING HIS STRATEGY NULL AND WESS FURIOUS. FROM TIME TO TIME HE WOULD RUN TO THE WINDOW AND SHOUT AT HIS PARTNER WHO COULDN'T HEAR HIM ANYWAY. WESS WOULD KICK THE BARRIER IN FRUSTRATION AND START PACING AGAIN.
EACH INTERMISSION HIS PARTNER WOULD PIT AND START COMPLAINING AT HOW THE CYCLE DIDN'T FEEL RIGHT, LIKE IT WAS ACTING UP. WESS STOMPED OVER TO IT AND PULLED UP THE CODE. AS HE FLICKED THE CODE AROUND, MOVING PIECES AND RECALIBRATING VARIABLES, THE BIKE WOULD SHIFT SLIGHTLY, LENGTHENING ITS WHEELBASE FRACTIONS OF INCHES, WIDEN ITS STANCE, OR SINK LOWER TO THE GROUND. WHEN THE INTERMISSION ENDED HIS PARTNER WOULD HOP BACK ON IT AND RACE OUT TO THE ARENA. NOTHING WOULD CHANGE THOUGH, CAUSING WESS TO GET EVEN MORE FURIOUS. "STEP ON IT YOU PRICK!" HE WOULD SHOUT, OR "TURN THAT SON OF A BITCH! YOU'VE GOT THE TRACTION! GOD!"
AT THE END OF THE LAST INTERMISSION HIS PARTNER CAME IN. "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING OUT THERE! YOU'VE GOT ONE OF THE BEST CYCLES ON THE GRID AND YOU'RE RUNNING AROUND LIKE A CHICKEN!" WESS SHOUTED AT HIM.
"IT'S NOT HANDLING RIGHT." HIS PARTNER COMPLAINED AGAIN
"LIKE HELL IT IS!" WESS SNAPPED AT HIM, GRABBING THE ROD FROM HIM AND WALKING TOWARD THE GAME GRID. HE GRABBED HIS DISK AND PUSHED IT AGAINST THE ACCESS PANEL BEFORE RUNNING OUT ONTO THE ARENA.
"YOU CAN'T DRIVE! YOU'RE JUST A STUPID BUILDER!" HIS PARTNERS INSULTS WERE LEFT BEHIND AS HE PULLED THE ROD APART, MATERIALIZING THE LIGHT CYCLE BENEATH HIMSELF. HE'D SHOW HIM HOW TO USE THIS DAMN LIGHTCYCLE.
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THIS APPLICATON TEMPLATE WAS MADE BY JANASAURUS! OVER AT CAUTION!
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