Vivian settles into his chair, leaning back and crossing one long leg over the other. He eyes you suspiciously, arms clad in his filthy jacket crossed protectively over his bare chest. "Is this some weird kink, asking a working girl questions? I mean, if I see any ropes I'm putting pieces of this chair up very choice parts of your anatomy."
He gestures impatiently at you to begin the questions.
What are your favorite kinds of plots and relationships to play?
Vivian raises an eyebrow. "Well, I like eating. You know, something not out of the trash. If you've got an unguarded pantry, I'm going to get into it." He adds the last with a lopsided grin. When pressed to be genuine, he sighs heavily and settles his elbows on his knees. "My shithead of a father gave me these gifts with magic. Guessing during the next twisted weirdo on a whore was better than admitting to a wife what he was. But...since he did this to me...least he can do is fix it. I want to find him."
What are your least favorite kinds of plots and relationships to play?
The whore shrugs his shoulders. "I hate combat. I'm not good in a fight unless I've got something to fling into someone's face or you like getting scratched. You know what would be nice? A guy who's interested in me for me. Not just out to start the latest bar fight or clear out bandits. I know the bandits, okay? They pay well and make decent sandwiches. Speaking of...does this strange line of questions come with a snack plate?" Vivian eyes you meaningfully.
What are your favorite character types to play?
Vivian huffs. "Well there's me. Gorgeous, young lad figuring out his way in the world and his magic. But my author really likes this moody old fuck named Volker with all his ancestors in his head. Or Joseph, the asshat with the twisted foot. You know that little shit is ninety pounds if he's an ounce and drunk me under the table?" Vivian chuckles.
"What can I say? Collection of weirdos. I'm still the prettiest." He winks, a cheeky flash of his pink tongue poking out from his generous lips.
Are you a planner or a pantser? Do you prefer to pre-plan and stick to a script when posting, or do you prefer to surprise and be surprised?
"Oh! Have I got complaints!" Vivian slaps his knees. "You know, it seems like we've got a solid plan right? Find my father, learn to clear this fucking magic, get on with my life, then she goes and encourages people to throw twists and turns at me!" He points an accusatory finger at you. "And. She doesn't feed me."
You begin to feel the allusions to food are a bit much, and decide to reveal the snack plate. Vivian crams crackers, salami, carrots and broccoli down his gullet with frightening speed.
How do you feel about group threads?
"Groups are extra...they're exhausting." Vivian says around a cheekful of crackers and Costco cold cuts, spraying crumbs in your general direction. When having to clarify groups in a story, Vivian thinks for a moment and swallows. "Enh, I lose interest in group stories really easy. Hard to focus. I prefer one on one, mano a mano. Is this cheese?"
Before you can tell him about the intricacies of sliced cheddar, it's already being stuffed into his cheeks.
How often can you reply to any given thread? How long should a partner wait before nudging you for a post?
Vivian laughs, spraying you with the remnants of said cheese. "Like a lightning rod! Fast, sometimes for hours on end! She does work though, eight hour days of some science bullshit that makes her brain tired. Might be a day or two to recharge then I'm back baby!" He grins, and you have to pause the interview to point out the collection of vegetable bits in his teeth, which he sucks down gleefully. The snack plate defeated, he spends the next few minutes herding crumbs into his mouth. The plate is likely cleaner than it was in your cupboard...
What is the longest you're willing to wait for a reply to a thread?
Vivian shrugs. "Like, a week. Then we both get distracted. People to go clients to meet." He smirks, and jerks his head at the empty plate. "Can we uh, double this order, boss?"
You sigh and hand him the paper bag you were hoping to hold off on until after the interview. You're not quite sure if you've ever seen a man take down a double cheeseburger in three bites, but it's alarming to watch. Vivian notices you staring and swallows. "No gag reflex." He winks, and you clear your throat to ask the next question.
How do you feel about instant messenger RP?
"Boooring." Vivian says loudly, and proceeds in a higher pitched voice to imitate a woman. "They've got a character limit, ya can't save the fuckin thing, and it's sooo 2003. Whatever that means."
How do you feel about post volleying/rapidfire RP?
"Those are her favorite. We both feel alive. It's got that energy, ya know?" Vivian grins. "She's got this brain thing where she loses ideas if she doesn't use them. Fucks her up. Means that I lose out on a lot of people don't respond. Besides, why wouldn't you want to respond to this face?"
Vivian lifts his eyebrows, batting his impressively long lashes at you. His lower lip pushes out in a pouty expression. He seems to have a lot of practice looking pathetic.
What's your preferred posting style? Long posts? Short posts? Anything and everything?
"You know what they say, it's not the size of the dick but how you use it." Vivian grins, and rises from the chair. Even though you tell him the interview isn't over, he gestures impatiently at you to continue while he starts fiddling with your desk toys. You're pretty sure two or three have found their way into his pockets and resolve to give him a pat down before you let him go.
"But nah, while we both love something juicy and long, sometimes the brain meats don't cooperate and we get that. Just let her know if you need her to steer, and she'll let you know if she wants you in charge of my fate." Vivian says distractedly.
Any RP styles/habits that you love?
Vivian rolls his eyes. "You know, she's a sucker for torturing me. Struggles, challenges, throwing me curveballs. You want to throw me into a dungeon or shadow realm she's usually down. But you know, no one asks me if I want to just have a nice cocktail on the beach." He pulls open a drawer. "Loves other people's stories too. Loooves getting in people's business to find out what their characters need. Can you imagine someone that nosy?"
You decide you can, seeing as how he's rifling through your office supplies.
Any RP styles/habits that you avoid?
Vivian cocks an eyebrow. "We both like a cooperative partner. You've got to bring something to the table too, ya know, we can't be the brains of the operation all the time." He grabs a random book off the shelf and flips through it, sighing and shoving it back. "Wish I could read..."
PLAYER LIMITS
What are you limits regarding powerplay/godmoding?
(For instance, do you mind if someone grabs your character? Picks them up? Punches them?)
"Who the fuck said anything about punching?" Vivian whirls, stapler aloft. You quickly reassure him you didn't mean you punching him. "Oh." He lowers the stapler, and frowns.
"Just ask first." Vivian shrugs, and waggles the stapler at you. "What is this?"
What are your limits in regards to romantic situations?
(What are you comfortable with and not comfortable with? Do you prefer to pre-plot relationships or let them happen organically? Are you open to IC-rejection or love-triangles? Age differences? Etc.)
Vivian turns with a decidedly predatory look on his face. He walks toward you, hips swinging in a rather effeminate fashion, and without a word plunks himself on your lap facing you. "Organic is best, and I love a good silver fox or some shy little virgin." He reaches out and tweaks your nipple through your shirt. "You sure you didn't want a nice tumble? We both like long, sweaty, hot little situations..."
Vivian leans forward to whisper the last in your ear, darting his tongue out to trace it. He really does stink, but perhaps after a bath...
What are your limits with regards to graphic content such as sex, violence, drug use, sexual assault, etc? What is your comfort level?
Vivian pulls back and eyes you. "I mean, very little. Volker takes folks apart on the regular and my author started out in horror-romance. We both like them a little twisted." He grasps your chin and gives it a playful waggle. "But if you're not okay with that it's alright, sweetheart, we're very used to self-censorship." Vivian pats your cheek reassuringly. He still hasn't gotten off your lap. The smell of cheap perfume, garbage, and other men is a bit overwhelming. Probably should have followed your instincts with that air freshener.
What are your limits in regards to pregnancy within plots?
(Are you okay with pregnancy in plots? Miscarriages? Loss?)
Vivian chuckles, and reaches for your shirt to start popping open buttons. "You wanna get me pregnant all we need is a spell and a little time, honey." He purrs. You hurriedly stop him, and he sighs. "You're giving me a lot of mixed signals here talking about sex limits and knocking me up. You do know you can be honest about bending me over your desk don't you?"
Well yes, but you've got to get through the questions first. Vivian rolls his eyes, and gets off your lap. You catch his wrist, noticing the bare spot on your wrist where your watch used to be. "Force of habit." Vivian snickers, offering your watch to you dangling on a pair of slender fingers.
What about healing?
(For example, a blind character magically being able to see, a scarred up character having their scars repaired, etc.)
Vivian returns to his chair, shrugging. "You know, sometimes people can't be fixed with magic. Sometimes it's best to let them be them, the way they are, scars, twisted legs and all." He says quietly, the confident and sexy attitude vanishing. How much of that was genuine, or just expected of him..?
"But hey if I get impaled or beaten up please, heal me." Vivian adds hurriedly.
What about characters being transformed against their will? (Think vampires, werewolves, and magical spells.)
"As with anything just ask, love. Me and my author are an open book." Vivian winks.
Anything else?
(Anything else you want to add that other players should know!)
"Nah, does this mean we're done?" Vivian gets up, and pouts. "I was really expecting a ride on the desk at least, but hey. Folks have to be professional sometime eh?" He makes to scoot toward the door, and you make sure to pat him down. A pity, he really liked that stapler.
A few minutes after his departure, you notice your wallet and keys are missing. Shit.
