Sign Up Wonka Inc. [M-LSV]

[James]

[center][img]http://img31.exs.cx/img31/8404/wonkaheader5wa.jpg[/img][/center]

Rollingstone Interviews Willy Wonka

When the lights came on, it took us several minutes to adjust. They revealed a room bathed in deep green and black, though they were dim enough to cast languid shadows across the walls and floor. We sat on an elaborate couch, covered in sublime ebony leather, with Willy Wonka sitting opposite us, in a sizeable armchair. The armchair's upper back twisted like a writhing snake, forming what appeared to be a large candy cane. The rest of the room was understated, save for several "Employee of the Month" certificates on the far wall. There were twelve of them all together; all awarded to Wonka. We prepared our notes quickly. Although he had not yet said a word, Wonka constantly shifted in his seat. Each time I looked up at him, he grinned widely - but only very briefly. The atmosphere was such that we felt we had to hurry. As one of his aides had explained during the trip to his home, "Mr. Wonka is a [i]very[/i] busy man, please do not waste his time." We were also asked (ordered) not to remove our blindfolds. Due to public anger over Wonka's apparent corruption of children (via his music and new, unsubstantiated questions of child abuse), it was considered important that we were not able to locate his private residence. Finally, we were ready. It was an exciting time - Willy Wonka rarely granted interviews and when he did, they were done on his own terms. This year is a special year, however: it is the tenth year since his last public appearance. Children (and some adults) from all over the world anxiously await Wonka's next appearance (which will include a concert and a very special, once in a lifetime competition). I leaned forward in my chair and held the little silver tape recorder up high. At this stage, Willy Wonka's face was partly covered in shadow. At times, only his white toothy grin could be seen. "So tell us about the competition, Mr. Wonka," I began. This was clearly the most eagerly-anticipated competition the world had ever seen, but nobody knew anything about it. We were about to uncover the first details. Again, Wonka's grin became visible in the darkened room. "It is, of course, the most grand competition ever devised," said Wonka. His grin was now so wide that it became difficult to understand certain words. "In the next month, I will distribute [b]six[/b] golden tickets around the world. The lucky girls and boys who find these tickets will be invited to tour my wonderful factory." "Ingenious! How will people find these tickets, Mr. Wonka?" Wonka shifted in his seat once more. One leg crossed over the other. He was wearing long black stilettos; their shiny leather surfaces appeared to be undulating as the dim light danced across them. "There are two ways to get lucky. Either buy one of my delicious chocolate bars - large size only - or buy my new Best of Wonka album, which will arrive in stores next week." [center][img]http://img137.exs.cx/img137/8291/wonkarecord6kl.jpg[/img] [size=1][i]Wonka Records: The Best Of[/i][/size][/center] At that moment, one of Wonka's aides entered the room. He was an odd-looking man; covered from head to toe in some kind of strange white cloth. In his hand, he held a silver platter, on top of which sat a tall glass. A gloved hand reached for the glass. Wonka's fingers wrapped around its neck firmly and he paused, as though he was somehow savouring the moment. He then took the glass and sipped from it. "You drink alcohol?" I asked slowly. It seemed strange to find the world's most famous chocolateer drinking mid-interview. "I have a saying," said Wonka. "Candy is dandy..." He took another long sip from the glass and placed it on the platter. "But liquor is quicker." The lighting guy laughed, but he was the only one. With suspicions of inappropriate conduct surrounding children circling in the air, it seemed odd that Wonka would make such a joke. The rest of us felt a little uneasy. It was as though Wonka detected this, because he slowly rose from his chair and gestured toward the door. "I'm a very busy man," he said with a grin.

What is Wonka Incorporated?

Welcome to [b]Wonka Inc.[/b] As you can see by the indicator above, this RPG will contain mature/adult themes. Please ensure that if you read this thread (and if you choose to sign-up), you are aware of this. Before I begin, I want to take a moment to briefly describe the concept of the RPG, just in case you haven't read my [url="http://www.otakuboards.com/showthread.php?goto=newpost&t=43191"]Arena Underground[/url] thread. [b]Wonka Inc.[/b] is the story of the world's most eccentric tycoon. Willy Wonka is a man of many talents; equal parts [b]rock star[/b], [b]chocolateer[/b] and [b]concert promoter[/b]. He is known the world over, to young and old alike. His eccentricities tend to scare some, but they fascinate others. Although it is possible to purchase Wonka's delicious candies and provocative albums, the man himself is rarely seen in public. In fact, Wonka only performs in public once every [b]ten years[/b]. It is rumored that at these very concerts, Wonka's staff hold a secret competition. The prize? An all-day tour of the Wonka Inc. world headquarters, just outside Hollywood. This year, however, Wonka is distributing [b]six golden tickets[/b] within chocolate bars and albums, in order to find the lucky tourists. If you are familiar with [b]Charlie and the Chocolate Factory[/b] (Roald Dahl's original novel), I should mention that this RPG is only loosely based on it. There will be similar names and concepts here and there, but fundamentally, [b]Wonka Inc.[/b] is a crazy and twisted adventure for mature-minded souls who remember what it's like to have the fascination and curiosity of a child. Therefore, it is important to remember that this RPG is intended to provide a [b]morbid[/b] twist on the original concept. If [b]Marilyn Manson as Wonka[/b] and [b]Oompa-Loompas in knee-high leather boots[/b] has any appeal to you, then this is the RPG you've been waiting for. ~_^ In the panel below this one, you'll find the [b]sign-up requirements[/b]. Please read that section thoroughly before signing-up. If you have any questions, please use my existing [J] @ The Arena thread in Arena Underground.

Begin the Tour

Okay, so, as mentioned above, there are [b]six[/b] golden tickets. This means that six people can tour the factory. Ultimately, there's room for [b]five children[/b] and [b]one adult[/b]. Each child must be accompanied by a [b]parent or guardian[/b]. I won't ask for a seperate member to play the parents and guardians - instead, if you sign-up as a child, you will also be playing as the parent/guardian. If you are familiar with the novel, you already know about the kids. In my RPG, these kids will retain their names and their key [b]vices[/b]. However, you may fill in all the other details to make the character your own ([b]note:[/b] it would be great if you could [b]twist[/b] your character into something quite unique and dark...please do not rely on the existing film or novel - you may use those for basic inspiration, but your character shouldn't be a carbon copy). Here are a list of the characters you may sign-up as: [size=4]Charlie Bucket[/size] [b]Parent/Guardian:[/b] Grandpa Joe. [b]Age:[/b] (Any age, but no more than 14). [b]Vice:[/b] None. [b]Biography:[/b] [b]Appearance:[/b] (This may include Grandpa Joe's appearance too). [size=4]Mike Teevee[/size] [b]Parent/Guardian:[/b] Mrs. Teevee. [b]Age:[/b] (Any age, but no more than 14). [b]Vice:[/b] Television. [b]Biography:[/b] [b]Appearance:[/b] (This may include Mrs. Teevee's appearance too). [size=4]Violet Beauregarde[/size] [b]Parent/Guardian:[/b] Mr. Beauregarde. [b]Age:[/b] (Any age, but no more than 14). [b]Vice:[/b] Bubblegum. [b]Biography:[/b] [b]Appearance:[/b] (This may include Mr. Beauregarde's appearance too). [size=4]Veruca Salt[/size] [b]Parent/Guardian:[/b] Mr. Salt. [b]Age:[/b] (Any age, but no more than 14). [b]Vice:[/b] Candy/Sweets. [b]Biography:[/b] [b]Appearance:[/b] (This may include Mr. Salt's appearance too). [size=4]Augustus Gloop[/size] [b]Parent/Guardian:[/b] Mrs. Gloop. [b]Age:[/b] (Any age, but no more than 14). [b]Vice:[/b] Cakes. [b]Biography:[/b] [b]Appearance:[/b] (This may include Mrs. Gloop's appearance too). [size=4]Nosey Rollingstone Reporter[/size] [b]Name:[/b] (You can specify your own name). [b]Parent/Guardian:[/b] None. [b]Age:[/b] (Any age). [b]Vice:[/b] (Your preference - does not require a vice). [b]Biography:[/b] [b]Appearance:[/b] There you go. Again, please be creative and don't be afraid to experiment. In terms of myself, I won't be playing any of these characters. Instead, I will be more of a narrator. I'll switch between characters and I will tell the story from a kind of bird's eye view. I will also interject within chapters to include various tidbits (perhaps information, or a news article, or a song). So I will be in the posting order, but I will kind of "post as everyone". Remember that when everyone is in the factory, there will only be a few times where people are seperated. Again, please use the Underground thread I've provided if you have questions. I look forward to your sign-ups and hope you enjoy yourself. ^_^

[Citrus]

[COLOR=Pink][SIZE=3][CENTER]Veruca Salt[/CENTER] [/SIZE] [/COLOR]

[FONT=Verdana][SIZE=1][COLOR=Green][B]Parent/Guardian[/B]: Mr. Salt

[B]Age[/B]: 14

[B]Vice[/B]: Candy/ Sweets

[B]Biography[/B]: Veruca has always been a candy junkie, since the day she was born. Obviously it was an odd sight to see a no toothed baby biting on a hard caramel candy. Well not for her parents, they showered her with all the candy to satisfy her needs. Whatever she want she got, it was as simple as that.

Now let me get something straight with you guys. This isn?t the same little ***** that sang the ?I Want It Now? song. Ha! This is a ***** way more annoying than the last. Her little secret candy fantasies go farther than you might think. Veruca links everything to candy, money, music, television, toys, and everything else.

It seems as though her little candy obsession has become an addiction. By the age of 10 Veruca was caught stealing candy from the local candy shop. Why would she do this? She is filthy rich and has everything she wants every time she screams bloody murder for it.

Well that my friends was a little beginning of a serious candy addiction. But wait there?s more! Veruca decided she will start her own private candy shop with 1,000 workers to make her whatever candy she desires.

Candy bars, chocolate dumplings, gum drops, drinkable candy canes, bubble gum, anything you name it she?s got it. Her father, Mr. Salt, was not to sure about this little obsession with candy. The day he questioned her was a living nightmare for the rest of his sorry ***. Veruca now takes advantage of him and threatens to kill him with her bare hands. Well, with a piece of candy in the other.

Mr. Salt now does anything to make his little Veruca happy. If she wants to buy Tennessee, her father has no choice but to bargain with the President to buy it. At the age of 12 Veruca found another obsession Adult kinds of music. She found refuge in Wonka Records music.


Now a days Veruca can be found bobbing her head to that bleeped out music and eating a candy bar. Somehow Veruca always manages to escape without one cavity after eating tons of candy bars. One day Veruca found something very odd in her candy bar?.

?What is that gold thing sticking out my bar!!!? yelled the obnoxious Veruca. Veruca shrugged and just took a bite out of it anyways. ?Eww?.what the fu** is this sh**?? she yelled and spit it out into the garbage. Then a intriguing commercial came onto her television screen.

?That?s right if you find that one lucky golden ticket in your large sized candy bar, you
win a trip to Wonka?s extraordinary candy facility!!!? Veruca looked down at the small piece of paper she had tore off the golden ticket.


Her large devilish eyes lit up with delight. It was time to pay Mr. Wonka a visit.[/COLOR][/SIZE][/FONT]


Appearance:

[COLOR=Navy]Veruca: [IMG]http://us.movies1.yimg.com/movies.yahoo.com/images/hv/photo/movie_pix/warner_brothers/charlie_and_the_chocolate_factory/julia_winter/verucaposter.jpg[/IMG]

Veruca has dark black wavy hair, which she likes to flip around time to time. They go perfectly with her blue eyes and delicate skin. Very slender Veruca looks like if you blow on her she will break in two.

Standing in about 5?4?? Veruca considers herself tall for her age. Not weighing much at 99 lbs Veruca thinks she?s the most heaviest thing in the world. Is she anorexic? Hell no!! She eats like a pig, she has a gigantic feast for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Don?t forget desserts.


Mr. Salt: A very round man not having much hair to go with his pale green eyes and white skin. Standing about 5 foot 6 Veruca makes fun off him for not being manly enough to be 6 feet. This makes him very depressed but he still manages to get along well with his daughter. That stubborn little *****?[/COLOR]

OOC: Sorry the appearances are short?It?s just that I am not supposed to be on this comp because my reg. comp won?t run OB for some reason. Hope it gets back in before the results are in. I will try and get a special graphic for my sign-up.

[Onix]

[COLOR=SlateGray][SIZE=1]Mike Teevee

Parent/Guardian: Mrs. Teevee.

Age: 13

Vice: Television.

Biography: When Mike was a baby, his parents, busy with work and private life, set him in front of the TV in hopes that he would learn proper behaviour from Barny and the denizens of Sesame Street. His early life was a series of television shows, punctuated by changings and feedings, which had to be done in front of the television.

As he grew, so did his appetite for the small screen. Movies, sitcoms, and music videos were his friends, confidants, and every waking moment. School was torture, as he was bullied and pulled away from his precious screen. So, his loving, doting parents did what any would do...if they had severe mental handicaps. They homeschool him, meaning that he spends even more time watching television.

It was during a five-hour marathon of music videos that Mike discovered Willy Wonka. The music and cinematography were excellent, so when he found out the tycoon also made candies and chocolates, he had to have them. Now, every day, he eats Willy Wonka chocolate bars while watching the Willy Wonka music video hour. Willy Wonka has become an idolic figure for the young boy.

Now that Wonka is going to open his factory for visitors, Mike must win. He will depart his precious television, his life-long friend, to visit the tycoon. Because he has to meet Wonka.

Appearance: Mike Teevee is what every parent fears their child will look like after too much television. Emaciated, pale, and gaunt, Mike is a shadow of the child he could've been. He's the kind of kid who never wants to leave the television set, even to eat, prompting him to subsist mostly on popcorn, highly caffinated soda and, of course, Willy Wonka chocolate bars. This meager diet has left him as skinny as a rail, with teeth shining due to copious dental care.

Once you get past the frightening skinniness, Mike isn't that wierd of a kid. His hair is a dusty brown, made greasy from taking one (maybe two) showers a month. His eyes, wide and bloodshot, might be a beautiful baby blue. His attire is jeans and t-shirts baring television characters and slogans, most of them baggy and lumpy with the jagged points of bone that make up his skeleton.[/SIZE][/COLOR]

[CENTER]*****[/CENTER]

[COLOR=SlateGray][SIZE=1]I hope that's suitably [B]twisted[/B], James. Sounds like its going to be an excellent RP, so I hope I get to be a part of it. Let me know if anything needs changing.

-ULX[/SIZE][/COLOR]

[Revelation]

Charlie Bucket Parent/Guardian: Grandpa Joe. Age: 12 Vice: None. Biography: Charlie Bucket, a boy who sought out Willy Wonka only because Wonka had become the idol of his life. Appearance: (This may include Grandpa Joe's appearance too).

Shall finish momentarily.

[Annie]

[color=#3A005C][size=2][b]Violet Beauregarde Parent/Guardian[/b]- Mr. Beauregarde. [b]Age[/b]- 13 [b]Vice[/b]- Bubblegum. Any brand, any flavor. [b]Biography[/b]- [b]"Mr. Beauregarde, what do you think about Mr. Wonka? Do you think he could buy your car lot out from under you?" "Over my dead body! Mr. Wonka may be a billionaire, but he would keep it wise in his mind to stick to his chocolates,"[/b] Mr. Beauregarde, a reasonably wealthy man, glared into the lense of the camera. [b]"And what about you, Violet? What do you think about Mr. Wonka? Why do you love that gum so much?"[/b] the reporter shoved a foam-covered microphone into the young girl's face. She wrinkled her nose at the smell that it had collected over the years. Cigarette smoke, spit, humidity, and whatever plagued a human's breath burried itself deep into the sponge-like material. Its stench was enough to force Violet to jerk back. [b]" 'That gum'? Please give Wonka Inc. the respect of calling it by the name it was given. It's called "Chewy-gooey Cherry Delight bubblegum". And to answer your first question. What do I think about Mr. Wonka? I think Mr. Wonka is genius. I think Mr. Wonka is very talented. I think Mr. Wonka is extraordinarily attractive. I think Mr. Wonka--no, I want Mr. Wonka,"[/b] the girl gave a quick glance at her father and blew a bubble of scarlet gum, [b]"That's just it. I want Mr. Wonka's genius, his talent, his sexuality. I think that would be everything I ever wanted." "B-but, you are barely twleve. Don't you think that's unappropriate?" "Absolutely,"[/b] said Violet with a smirk and a cute twist of bubblegum around her finger. The reporter gave a slight cough and wipped his glistening brow with a handkerchief. Mr. Beauregarde's face had lit up a cherry red. Whether it was anger or embarrassment, Violet couldn't quite make out; she assumed it to be both. [b]"Your daughter has a fine vocabulary. She must get that from you, Sir,"[/b] the now rattled reporter chuckled nervously, in hopes to lighten the mood. After the cameras and blitz left, Mr. Beauregarde swore to Violet that he would never be embarrassed such way again. He didn't allow Violet to return to her public school for the sake of his reputation. He hired a tutor for Violet, and didn't allow her to leave the house unless he accompanied her. The year passed with moderate criticism, gossip was unstoppable, only making Mr. Beauregarde more apt to be seen without his daughter. She didn't mind much anyhow. Her room was all she needed. Her closet became a collage of merchandise Wonka Inc. had to offer; Violet called it her "Shrine of Grotesque". The inner walls were covered from top to bottom with posters, newspaper clippings, magazine articles, CD covers and lyrics, and even candy wrappers. It was her safe haven away from her father. He never checked her closet; there was no reason to. Violet had not been afraid of monsters; least of all the "monster"--as her father calls Mr. Wonka--inside. One fateful afternoon, Violet had talked her father into taking her to the candy shop on the corner. The store was stocked full of chocolates, candies, and all things nice. The children pushed and shoved into the tall shelves, resulting in a shower of candy bars on the other side; the side Violet just happened to be walking down. To her curiousity, the large chocolate bars glittered with inlays of golden writing; advertising the Wonka Inc. competition. Though she was not particularly fond of chocolate, she was drawn to the thrill of that question: "what if I do have a golden ticket?" She had been a fan of Wonka Inc. The bubblegum that came from that factory was like no other Violet had ever put in her mouth. Violet purchased the candy bar she held lightly in her hand that afternoon. And in the safety of her home, she delicately peeled away at the baroque, rich paper wrapping. A light danced off of the surface of a golden corner, and onto a forming smile. [b]"Daddy, can we go?" "Well, we're going to have to. It'll bring the young audience to the car lot. I need that right now. So yes, we're going."[/b] [b]Appearance[/b]- [center][img]http://www.kidswithacause.org/usa/images/mara-wilson.jpg[/img][/center] Violet, fair-skinned and quiet, stands at short of five feet but not so much taller than four. She carries a body of a younger child, falsifying her blooming teen years. This young lady stays true to her name, meaning she always wears a garment of purple, violet, or lavander. Her usual garment is an array of [url=http://missnancysdesigns.com/laprecieux/Lipstick_purple_dress_small.jpg][b]sundresses[/b][/url] that are, for the most part, torn in places and hang loosely, as if they were a size too big. But thanks to her unique personality, sandals will not be seen on her feet. Rather, Violet embarrasses her father by strutting around a pair of worn out, black boots; never laced properly, and never without a good washing. Speaking of washing, Violet's hair is, perhaps, the only feature about her body she takes most care of. Straight and simple, yet brings so much attention for its delicious dark chocolate sheen; wonderfully complementing her pale green eyes. Mr. Beauregarde, on the other hand, a clean-cut, anal retentive man, can always be seen wearing a three-piece suit. He's a business man, you see, and he will conduct himself professionally with a black or navy blue suit with thin pinstripes. He makes it a point in combing his thick, ebony hair back in slick waves, almost always hidden under a matching hat. [/color][/size]

[Zidargh]

[font=trebuchet MS][color=darkred][b]Nosey Rollingstone Reporter[/b][/color]

[b]Name:[/b] Private Investigator - Christopher Smith (A.K.A - Smith)

[color=darkred][b]Age:[/b] 32 [/color]

[b]Vice:[/b] Money.

[color=darkred][b]Biography:[/b] An immigrant from Great Britain, Smith was born into an incredibly wealthy family, which probably explains the reason for his desire for hard cash. His parents, his grandparents, and all of his other 'parents' before him were Elites. They had more power than the Prime Minister if it was necessary, for they could buy themselves out of anything. And as the younger generations grew older, such as Smith's cousins, and sisters (For he was an only son, you see), they too wanted to carry on the great, fabulous, and majestic, [b]Smith[/b] name.

So, it came as a shock when Smith decided not to go into the Smith enterprise and chose to become a reporter, with the goal of detective in mind. This was declared at a big family dinner, with [b]lots[/b] of media attention.

He was immediately exiled from the family.

The Christopher Smith as we know him is broke. The only jobs he could seem to get were freelance, as long as his photography skills and interview skills were basic enough to communicate with a new-born monkey. It didn't matter how good he was.

At one dramatic turn in his life, Smith decided to look up the [b]Smith Enterprise[/b]. You could do this easily if you tried, for Smith's father, the current head of the families enjoyed making things so public, that you could probably see their mansion from the moon.

His father had died in a bitter feud with another [i]very[/i] rich man, who had [i]very[/i] good connections. What do you expect when you order a vigilante group to prevent a Russian Mafia Heist? The PR King died trying to enhance his Public Relations. How ironic.

Oh, and his Uncle had been arrested for life, due to charges of Child Abuse and Paedophilia.

[center]"I knew it all along!"[/center]

And so when it came about, 7 years after he had moved to the States, that Wonka Inc. was hosting a huge competition, with even more competitive media attention, Christopher was straight up there, planning his ways to infiltrate the Wonka Inc. Headquarters, and acquire some hands-on information.

This was a wonderful opportunity for Smith. He'd always thought that his uncle was a paedophile, and these sudden reports of child abduction on a grand scale, with a big celebrity especially, were a scent of pure and utter "Se-". Now now Smith - sweetness. For this was a huge exploitation Smith could put forward about Wonka.

By purchasing hundreds of Wonka Chocolate Bars (Large-size I'll have you), it was on one midnight that below his desk-lamp, and above some client's photograph, that the purple wrapper peeled off to reveal another layer, just like an onion. But a Red Onion, that has a golden filling.

"Booyah!"[/color]

[b]Appearance:[/b]

[center][img]http://www.shadowsonthewall.co.uk/03/animatr7.jpg[/img][/center]

[size=1]Painted by Jean-Pierre, Fags'n'Rags Advertisement Designer

-The start and finish to Smith's modelling career for a cigarette company. He still suffers from ridicule of this to date.[/size]


A dark-haired, tall man, with handsome features. His eyes match the tone of his hair, and being a fan of old Jazz-time mysteries, he tends to wear the clothing of what a Private Eye would wear.[/font]

[Ezekiel]

[FONT=Trebuchet MS][SIZE=1][B]Finally done, hope this is what you need, James.[/B]

[COLOR=#66866D][U][B]Charlie Bucket[/B][/U]

[B]Parent/Guardian:[/B] Grandpa Joe.

[B]Age:[/B] 14

[B]Vice:[/B] None.

[B]Biography:[/B] Charlie lives the life that no teenage boy wants to live; one full of broken toys, ragged clothes and little to no luxuries in life. It has always been this way for Charlie, so he knows no different and most of his family view this as a small comfort seeing as he doesn?t realise what he?s missing out on.

Always close to his Grandpa, Charlie has been raised on being good with his hands, able to carve small statues and dolls out of a lifeless piece of wood. While he is by no means a master of the art, it?s something that keeps his mind off the more mundane things such as chores and homework.

Since Charlie has never been able to indulge himself in things like chocolate, television or sweets, he has never had a sweet tooth and has no great need for anything in life except to get by with good health.

A kind and warm-hearted boy, Charlie will go out of his way to help his family, and despite the fact he has hardly any money, is the most generous fourteen year old you will ever have the pleasure of meeting. Despite his hard life and bullying at school, Charlie keeps a smile on his face and his chin held high ready to face each day.

One fateful day, Charlie was asked to go and fetch groceries for his mother, told that whatever change was left over, he could use. Excited about this sudden fortune in his pocket, Charlie quickly made his way to the grocery store, taking a short cut through a market on the way home. It was in this market that he saw it, the biggest display of chocolate the young boy had ever set his eyes on.

Somehow hypnotised by the mound of sugary treats, Charlie found himself being drawn to the stand, saddened to find that he was a few pennies away from affording one of the bars. Lightly fingering the coins around in the palm of his hand, Charlie gave a sigh and started to head off only to be called back by the storeowner, who luckily, was a kind man himself.

Charlie was granted a bar at a discount and told that if he found a golden ticket inside he would be one of only six children to be admitted to Willy Wonka?s estate. His heart filled with hope, Charlie ripped upon the wrapper and watched in awe and amazement as a slip of gold fluttered into his open hand.

[B]Appearance:[/B] Seeing as Charlie lives off boiled cabbage and corn beef sandwiches, he hasn?t had the chance to put any weight on and has a very skinny appearance. This is only enhanced by his over sized hand-me-down jumpers and jeans which hang loosely over his pale frame. Charlie owns one leather black belt which he wears constantly, scared that his jeans will fall down in public. He wears trainers, which are coming away at the sole and look constantly grubby along with fingerless cotton gloves that his grandpa gave to him when he was ten.

Since his family can?t afford fashionable clothes, Charlie has tried to make a fashion for himself, always being drawn to the style that the likes of Wonka promotes. Seeing as his ageing grandmother knits his jumpers, he requests grey, seeing as it?s the cheapest wool, and asks that the go down to the middle of his thigh with his fading blue jeans bunching when they reach his feet. A simple chain picked up on the way home from school is always attached to his belt and his black gloves, washed only thrice in their life, never seem to come off.

With naturally thick, blond hair worn down to his shoulders and blue eyes that never seem to loose their sparkle, Charlie is an obviously attractive young boy, with only a few freckles sprinkled across the bridge of his nose. He has milky white skin but cheeks with a rosy hue, giving him a constantly flushed or embarrassed look, which is less than appreciated in school.

[B]Grandpa Joe[/B] maintains that he was once young and handsome, a joke which is lost on the whole family. He now wears an unevenly clipped, grey beard, with bushy eyebrows, typical of an old man, along with grey hair hanging long at the back and sides of his head. His eyes are a milky blue, his eye site failing rapidly in his years. Smile lines are apparent around Joe?s eyes and the corner of his mouth, with dimples creasing into the velvety skin when he laughs.

His skin is tanned from working in the vegetable patch and his hands are gnarled, fighting desperately against arthritis. Always seen to be wearing brown slacks with a white long sleeve shirt (first three buttons undone, sleeves rolled up) along with black, beaten leather shoes, Joe is your typical grandfather and carpenter.[/COLOR]

[B]Phew. I think I?ll actually enjoy playing Charlie more than I would Veruca. That is, if I get in.[/B][/SIZE][/FONT]

[Guest Sean]

[SIZE=3] [B]Augustus Gloop[/B][/SIZE] [SIZE=2] [B]Parent/Guardian[/B]: Mrs. Gloop. [B]Age[/B]: 11. [B]Vice[/B]: Cakes. [B]Biography[/B]: Augustus isn?t the sharpest tool in the shed, for years he?s been plagued by one simple dysfunction: stupidity. Yes, since he was born he would run into tables, bounce off arm rests and tumble into fridge doors. And when he could talk it didn?t get any better, his parents were filthy rich so they didn?t mind his requests. ?I want!? repeated over and over, and he got it, nothing could stop him, then one day, when he was about four, he saw an advert on his wide screen television, which was screwed into the wall, advertising Wonka products. Augustus despised the music, but loved to check out there products. Augustus firmly shouted at his parents to buy him half-a-dozen ?Wonka? cakes. This was the beginning of the end, when Augustus was little, how ever spoilt he was, he wasn?t fat, but eaten these cakes could do something too a child. So soon he slowly got bigger, but not in the muscle tense, his parents brushed it off as being ?puppy fat? and never really cared. His 8th birthday was something to be remembered, where he ate his whole cake all to himself, and it was during this birthday that he got his first Wonka CD, he wasn?t too fond of him then, but he slowly grew to loving him, his cakes came from the same man who musically pleased him. And with his music changing, he tried to change his appearance, but it was too late for that. The consumption of so much food had settled in, and going to the gym to loose some of it didn?t work. He was left with his Wonka T-Shirt, XL, and a pair of ripped bagged jeans, but that wasn?t the end of it. Augustus finally got sent to school, after being tutored, and with this school came bullies, friends, and well even more bullies. He didn?t exactly made friends with any of the school pupils who all seemed snobby and posh, and didn?t seem to like any other kind of music apart from Classical. Augustus didn?t mind Classical, so he could get into a small conversation with one or two of the pupils, but when Augustus brought up Wonka he would be shut out. So he spent his time in the massive music department, the teachers didn?t mind, and Augustus got to play Wonka at its loudest in the sound proof rooms. At weekends Augustus was happy to relax in a room the size of most common day houses, and let his massive speakers let out the sound of Wonka. He put up with the bullying for another year, and heard of the new ?Best Of? CD that was getting released by him, and was dying to get a ticket for the next concert as the one before was when he was One year old. He ran out of his mansion of a home, and physically went into the closest music shop ?3rd Base? which had all the latest CD?s from everywhere. He bought a few albums that he didn?t have of Wonka, and after begging and bribing the Shop Owner to open the box in the back room, he got the CD, the cover dazzling him, he looked at the song list seeing songs he knew and loved, and seeing songs that he hadn?t heard of, mainly because he didn?t have all his albums. Augustus couldn?t wait to he got home, he was planning on burning his ?Jay-Z? and ?Eminem? CD?s later that week, for he was slowly turning into an arsonist, playing with lighters, and burning CD?s. Augustus sat on his boat of a bed, looking through the CD?s he had bought, ?The Best Of:? album just staring at him, begging to be opened and played, but Augustus was extremely careful with his CD collection, it was ritual. It would lay on his bed, and slowly be opened without touching the front of the box. Then he would slide the CD out with precision and wouldn?t touch anything apart from the side of the CD until it reached the CD player. It was the same here, but he never got as far as taking the CD out. He saw a flash of light, and a mysterious piece of paper was sitting on top of the CD, when he opened it his eyes lit up with excitement, and at the same time fear. [quote name='Wonka Ticket'] Congratulations! You have won the infamous Wonka competition. To reclaim your prize of meeting Wonka, and a tour around his facility, please arrive at Wonka Records on the specified date below. Thank you.[/quote] Few words escaped Augustus? mouth, the three that were said, over and over again were: ?Oh. My. God.? [B]Appearance[/B]: [list][*]Augustus Gloop - Augustus isn?t the fittest person you could meet, in fact, he isn?t fit at all, he tried to loose some of his weight, but it just didn?t go down, so he cursed it, and went back to his cakes. Augustus, is fairly, big, needing to buy, usually, the largest sized t-shirt out of the bunch, and for him to wear baggy jeans, they had to be custom made to fit him. Augustus hair used to be a natural blonde, but after dying it numerous times with black, it has became permanently black. His eyes used to be a bright shade of blue, but he needs to wear glasses, but he really takes his glasses off when he leaves the house and puts in a pair of cat-eye contact lenses. You couldn?t call him a ?goth? exactly, but he takes on some of the attributes of one, the hair, which is slowly growing, the face which is growing pale, and clothes, which is usually black of nature. [*]Mrs. Gloop - Now, Mrs. Gloop can?t exactly talk about her son being a little bit over-weight, for she just takes the cake. She knows of her weight problem, but is too rich too care, and takes her weight away by paying people a substantial amount of money. Her hair is very short, and black. Her eyes a dark green, and her dress is usually a blinding shade of purple. Mrs. Gloop says she is ashamed to go out with the likes of her son, but it?s funny to think that he thinks exactly the same way about her. Mrs. Gloop doesn?t wear any glasses or contact lenses though. But she goes to a tanning salon often to keep up her ?beautiful? appearance for her friends.[/list] [/SIZE]

[SIZE=1]--I'll finish this soon...my net is acting up again.
[b]EDIT[/b]: Still to finish the bio, and work on the appearance[/SIZE].
[b]EDIT2[/b]: Finished. ^_^

[DeadSeraphim]

[SIZE=3][U][B][CENTER]Veruca Salt[/CENTER][/B][/U][/SIZE]
[SIZE=1]
[B][U]Parent/Guardian:[/U][/B] Mr. Salt.

[B][U]Age:[/U][/B] 14

[B][U]Vice:[/U] [/B]Candy/Sweets.

[B][U]Biography:[/U][/B]
?She?s interesting, isn?t she?? Sissy studied the contents of the manilla folder carefully, his free hand brushing a stray green hair out of his eyes. He?d been studying it for half an hour, since the child had arrived at the front gates. It never got old.

His companion, Slut, walked over and peered over his shoulder, his knee high boots clicking and clacking on the hard concrete floor of the lab. An orange hand carefully placed reading glasses on the tip of his nose and silence filled the room for a long moment.

?Well??

?I agree. She?s quite interesting.? Sissy turned to his companion, a green eyebrow raised.

?Is that all you have to say? ?I agree???

Slut grinned and leaned into his friend, a hand resting gently on Sissy?s knee.

?Well... when I say interesting you know [i]exactly[/i] what I mean...? Sissy giggled and looked away, before looking back, carnal lust in his eyes. He leaned forward, and the two oompah loompahs? faces came closer and closer, lips pursed for the inevitable conclusion...

?Sissy, Slut, how goes your research?? Wonka?s sharp voice suddenly filled the room and Slut scrambled away, a deep shade of red staining his orange cheeks.

?Err... it?s good,? Sissy managed as he tried to compose himself. ?Umm... fantastic actually.?

Wonka strode through the room, his lithe form cutting the tension and settled himself in the chair beside Sissy. He crossed one knee over the other and grinned wide.

?Do tell.?

Breathing deep to himself and hoping his hands weren?t trembling too much, Sissy reached into the folder and pulled out a wad of paper, leafing through it for the information he thought Mr Wonka would appreciate most. He was a busy man, after all, and the children had already arrived and were waiting.

?She?s 14, from an upper middle class home...? Wonka yawned slightly. ?And incredibly spoilt. She?s had absolutely everything she ever wanted handed to her on a silver platter.?

Wonka?s interest piqued. ?Do go on.?

?For example... you?ll see at 10 she requested her first gimp...?

?A gimp at 10?! Oh, please do go into this!? Genuine mirth was plastered over the eccentric?s face, and he was clutching his knee and leaning forward in anticipation.

?Well, her parents both had a gimp each. She was quite jealous... so they got her her own.? Wonka leaned back, disappointed. ?She?s kept it on a tight leash ever since. You?ll find it?s even in the factory at this moment.?

?But only a paren--? A large wide grin.

?Exactly. You?ll find Mr Salt is quite a submissive character.? Wonka chuckled to himself and got to his feet, rubbing his chin. This was an interesting twist.

?Anything else I should know, Sissy?? Sissy shrugged.

?She?s stubborn, rude, and will give you no end of trouble. And she loves candy... especially lollipops.? Wonka clapped his hands together.

?Brilliant!? With that he strode out of the room, ready to make formal introductions to the children and their parents. As the door shut behind him Slut came out of hiding.

?Where were we?? Sissy giggled...

[B][U]Appearance:[/U] [/B]?Daaaaaddy...? Veruca?s voice cut through the record store like a knife, high and whining.

A man dressed head to toe in shining black latex shuffled out of the ?Oldies? section and stared at his daughter through the eye holes in his gimp mask.

?Yes darling?? His voice was muffled by the zip, but Veruca didn?t care.

?Buy me this!? she demanded, holding up an album, ?Wonka Records: The Best of?. Mr Salt studied it for a moment, then looked back at his daughter. Her slight form was clothed in black thigh high stockings with stiletto pumps, and a sleeveless leather dress with a tight bodice and flaring skirt complimenting the dark black eye shadow around her eyes. It made her look like a panda, especially with the pale foundation and black hair.

But it wasn?t his place to voice his opinion. Finally, he uttered a feeble sigh.

?I don?t think mummy would appro--? he began, but found himself cut short when Veruca yanked viciously on his chain, bringing his head down to her level.

?I don?t give a **** what mummy thinks. Buy it for me. Now.? She released the chain suddenly and Mr Salt went wheeling backward, suddenly unbalanced. When he finally regained his balance he took the CD from his daughter?s hands.

?Yes honey.?

---

It was in the car ride on the way home when Mr Salt heard the fateful words.

?Oh, wow. Daddy I got a gold ticket!?[/SIZE]

[Bio]

[font=Trebuchet MS]

[/font][font=Trebuchet MS] [b]-Biography-[/font][/b] [font=Trebuchet MS] The light is bright, shining calmly through the sterile curtains of the office. I can see the gruff man sitting behind his desk, looking at me; judging me like a piece of fruit. He's checking to see if I'm ripe, or if I'm bruised and immature. Well? 'What's your verdict?' See? I know what verdict means. I know a lot of things. And I learned them all by myself, without any teacher to help me. I don't need help like all the other boys and girls do. [i]My name is Mike Teevee. I'm nine years old and have never done less than perfect in any schoolwork. Ever.[/i] "Mike... your parents have sent you to me because they are worried about you, and they love you. They wanted me to tell you that." I know he's already made his 'verdict', even before he begins talking. That's how it always works. They always lock the sane one's up. I'm not crazy. I get perfect grades in school. I'm a good boy. It's just that no one understands like I do. No one is worried like I am. And besides, my mother says I'm a vegetable, not a fruit. That means you're out of luck, because you can't judge me like a vegetable, can you? You think you're so smart. [i] I live in a big white house with lots of windows. I like chocolate and watermelon.[/i] "Specifically, your parents are worried that you're becoming too attatched to television, and becoming obsessed with worlds that... aren't real." [i] I'm a schizophrenic.[/i] He's just like the rest of them. Can't he see that he's being lied to? We're all being controlled. They're making us think that we're safe, and that the movies will never happen, but... they're just wrong. Danger strikes when it's least expected. I think I heard that from a show on TV. And you have to listen to the hints or Danger will strike you. Danger will strike you with a big gun. "What was that, Mike?" "...What?" [i] I first saw Wonka in a music video while I was watching TV after school. When I told my parents about him, they reminded me about how I had gone to see a therapist, and had to remember that not everything about people on TV was real. But Wonka is my opportunity to prove that I'm not really insane... Wonka is my proof.[/i] "You were mumbling to yourself. Something about danger and guns? Is something bothering you that you'd like to tell me? You can tell me anything, and I'll keep it a secret, just between you and me." "I'm perfectly ripe! [i]You[/i] just think I'm bruised because you're... you're stupid!" [i]I found a golden ticket in my chocolate bar, just like the TV said I would. Just like the TV said I would. This ticket is my proof. I'm tired of being a crazy person. The TV doesn't lie. Wonka is real.[/i] [/font][font=Trebuchet MS] [b]Parent/Guardian: [/b]Mrs. Teevee [b] Age: [/b]Nine [b]Vice: [/b]Television [b] Appearance: [/b]Mike has always been a little more scrawny than everyone else, though he tries to hide it by wearing baggy clothes. In fact, he tries to hide almost all of himself. That's why he refuses to get his hair cut; he doesn't want the people on TV to find him. Though more than a little paranoid and clinically insane, Mike actually does well - perfect - in school, and has his own little clique, which has no idea about his mental ailments. Despite his perfection in acedemics, Mike is lazy. He hardly ever participates in pyisical activites, other than karate once a week (his mother forced him to do it). He'd rather watch than do. Mrs. Teevee is an obsessively perfect mother to the point of insanity (literal in Mike's case). She hardly ever mentions her son's schizophrenia, and does her best to pretend it doesn't exist. Mike recieved his good genes and metabolism from his mother; healthy and athletic looking despite doing nothing at all physical. For her, Mike is the perfect son. The perfect son who keeps a knife under his pillow.

[/font]

[Corey]

Nosey Rollingstone Reporter

[b]Name:[/b] Allen Ridley

[b]Age:[/b] 34 (D.O.B. March 18th, 1971)

[b]Vice:[/b] Curiosity.

[b]Biography:[/b] Allen was born on a rainy March day in the midst of the seventies to two drugged up hippies completely unprepared for having a child. His mother loved him with every breath she took, but neither made enough money to take care of him in their current lifestyle. So they changed. They stopped smoking pot. They stopped doing nitrous. The stopped eating mushrooms. And they started moving on with their lives.

By the age of four, his parents had saved up enough money to move into an apartment in New York. It wasn't very good. It had roaches and rats, but it was better than the **** hole they used to live in. The place didn't even have a toilet, for Christ's sake.

Allen entered public school at the age of five and did an average job in most of his classes. He developed a keen sense of adventure, always getting into trouble and being places he wasn't supposed to be. One day, in fourth grade, he decided it would be a lot more fun to eat lunch on the roof. So he climbed up there and ate his PB&J sandwich, watching the fire truck pull up to the school and extend it's ladder up to him. He climbed in with a smile on his face and thanked the fireman for helping him down. He was suspended for a week.

When Allen got to highschool, in the mid eighties, his thrill seeking nature had gotten him a good reputation as a 'punk'. He didn't much like authority, but would bend to it if the situation deemed necessary. Allen could always be seen at parties, searching for that new bit of adventure be it a girl or a bottle of schnapps.

He went to college to become an english teacher, something he always loved and respected, but quickly changed his major when he realized the teachers life was too drab and dull for him. He instead went out to study journalism. He always loved to read magazines and admired the writers to a fault. In his last year he was given the task, for his thesis, to unearth a story and report it as if he were doing it for a newspaper.

Allen snuck into City Hall dressed as a custodian and eavesdropped on a phone conversation between the Mayor and an anchored ship offshore. Apparently, the ship had a rather large amount of money that was to be given to the mayor if a few members of port authority would suddenly come down with the flu and leave their posts. Allen got the whole thing on tape and sold the story to the New York Times for a good hunk of money. He got paid and passed with flying colors, though he was told by his Professor that it wasn't supposed to be something so extreme.

Allen got a job with a small local newspaper. Three weeks in, he printed a story about a drug ring in the police force that he got by lowering a mic through the ventilation system. The New York Times picked him up as a freelance agent. He worked for them for nearly seven years before Rolling Stone picked him up. They needed someone not afraid to get their hands dirty for a story. Someone that didn't want to sit at a desk all day. He accepted and has been working for them ever since.

After the Wonka interview, Allen was on edge, but extremely interested. He went out and bought a few dozen large bars of chocolate with the fleeting hopes of getting a ticket. Allen didn't see a bit of gold foil. The next morning Rolling Stone sent a package to be delivered at his house. He opened it to reveal a copy of Wonka's newest album, The Best Of Wonka Inc. A small note taped to the CD case read "Don't **** up, Ridley." He opened it to see the gold foil stare him in the face. [i]How'd they pull that off,[/i] he though. But his suspicion gave way to rampant excitement. He was going to get the story of the century, and he'd leave no stone unturned in that factory.

[b]Appearance:[/b] Allen is about 6' 3", and 200lbs. His shoulders are broad and his legs are skinny, giving him the appearance of intimidation until he puts on a pair of shorts. Allen's head is oval shaped and he has long features. His black hair is shortly cropped and on his chin he has stubble to match. His eyes are large and very intense, giving you the feeling of being looked into instead of being looked at. He has a rather large nose, being slightly crooked from a break, and medium sized, though thick, eyebrows. His lips are thin and his mouth is always curved just upward enough to give a ghost of a smile. Two small hoops decorate his ears. His arms hang just below his waist, and his hands are large and nicotine stained.
Allen usually wears a pair of faded, ripped light blue jeans and a t-shirt with "Rolling Stone Magazine: Staff" written on it. When out in daylight, he wears large aviator sunglasses.

[JJ]

[B][Size=3]Charlie Bucket[/size][/B] [B]Parent/Guardian:[/B] Grandpa Joe. [B]Age:[/B] 10 [B]Vice:[/B] None. [B]Biography:[/B] Charlie Bucket grew up in two households. His mother?s, who worked for the local doctor?s office as a secretary and his father?s, who worked as a trash man. His father had actually proposed to his mother when she was pregnant, but she turned him down, telling him she?d rather marry a trash can. So, Charlie Bucket was born into the world. Due to the interest the state took into the matter, his mother decided to just keep the father?s last name, so they wouldn?t start poking their noses into the matter. Charlie grew up in two very different households. The first was his mother?s, where he lived most of the time. She worked a lot, so it was up to Charlie to keep the house in order. With his two bedridden aunts, and his almost bedridden grandfather, Charlie learned to grow up at an early age. His only seemingly innocent solitude was his father?s house. There, it was only him and his father, and they seemed to get along well enough. His father didn?t work everyday, and when he did, he was back before Charlie woke up. The problems began to develop when Charlie was eight. The court got suspicious of the setup of Charlie?s trade offs. His father got him every other weekend, and any holiday he wanted, as long as he hadn?t picked it last year. They thought that his father was exploiting the time, by requesting extra weekends. They stepped in and put a ban on weekends for his dad. So, that meant that Charlie could only see him at holidays. This sent Charlie?s dad into a fit, and he countered by suing Charlie?s mother and the state. He lost both cases, and had to sell just about everything he owned to pay off his lawyer. Charlie tried to send letters to him, but they all came back with a return to owner on them. So, Charlie went to school, did his chores, took care of his family, and waited for the next holiday. It seemed like the days slowed down, but it finally came around, and Charlie happily abandoned his apron for a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. His mother drove him over to his new address, and immediately, Charlie knew that things weren?t going well for his dad. They had pulled up to a trailer park, and it wasn?t looking like one of the fancier ones either. Charlie got out of the car and walked into the park, expecting something to jump out and eat him. His father walked out and met him, and brought him back, introducing him to the neighbors, and showing him around. That night, his father sat Charlie down and explained what had happened. Charlie didn?t quite understand, and so he went to bed with a head full of questions. The next morning, Charlie woke up to a strange smell. He walked out of the trailer?s bedroom, and found his father, dead, on the floor. Charlie went into a state of shock, and passed out, falling into his father?s blood. After Charlie woke up, and realized what he had fallen in, he went into a state a screaming, which brought one of the neighbors. She saw what had happened, called the police, and helped a hysterical Charlie out of the trailer, and outside. There, the pair waited for the police, with Charlie going on and on about it being his fault. After the police came, things happened in a blur. Charlie was whisked off to the police station where they asked him a lot of questions, and then it was back to his mother, who hugged and kissed him until his face was covered in lipstick, and he was gasping for breath. His mother drove him home, where his two aunts immediately began their demands again, forcing Charlie to come to terms with reality. He was going to be working until he left the house, and he had lost his one little break in life. Every night, Charlie would hold the only picture of his father he has, and cries for him, and for his life. Things only seemed to get worse as he got older. The menial tasks became harder, and his aunts? demands became more and more strict, he even having to massage their feet because he forgot their tea with their lunch. On his tenth birthday, all Charlie got was a Wonka chocolate bar and a card from his grandfather. The card he kept with the other seven he had in a drawer in his closet. He set the chocolate bar there too, saving it for the next day, in which he would share it with his friend Pedro at school. [B]Appearance:[/B] Charlie is by no means a scrawny kid. He eats well enough, and with his chores, keeps himself fit. Even his sense of style isn?t hindered. He still wears the more popular names, and keeps up with his fellow classmates, thanks to his taste in clothes, and his mother?s job. Charlie?s light brown hair is short, thanks to a recent hair cut. It sits right above his ears, a length he?s happy with. If you moved down a bit, you would come to his deep blue eyes. They were inherited from his father and it?s seems like the only thing that sets him apart from his mother. His skin is lightly tanned, with an almost darkness to it. He keeps his natural color with his work that he does in the garden and around the outside of the house. His aunts never want him to do it, but he prefers it, because there, they can?t get him to do more pointless things. Grandpa Joe, as he likes to be called, is only 49 and looks only to be in his late 30?s. Due to the magic of modern day cosmetics, he keeps up his hair color and skin, earning him the compliment of people asking about Charlie as his son. Most of the time, Joe lives around the house in a pair of checkered sleep pants and a white muscle shirt, but for this occasion, he?s donned a pair of khakis and a striped blue and white shirt. His slippers replaced by brown Gucci he?s kept in the back of his closet. His hair full of hair is gelled down and left hanging forward, showing off his perfect hair more than necessary.

[Gavin]

[COLOR=White][FONT=Eurostile][RIGHT][SIZE=2]August 17th 2002[/SIZE][/RIGHT] [LEFT][SIZE=3][B]Dear Diary...[/B] I had to see him again today, tears stung my eyes as I waited for him. I wanted to get away so badly, I've never been so afraid of anyone so much in my entire life. Why won't my father believe me ? I cry myself to sleep now, dread fills me when I know I have to see him again, why won't anyone believe me ?[/LEFT] [CENTER]---------------[/CENTER][/SIZE] [SIZE=2][RIGHT]August 31st 2002[/RIGHT][/SIZE] [LEFT][SIZE=3][B]Dear Diary...[/B] He tells me what he does makes me more mature, that everyone does it and that if I don't know what to do boys won't go out with me. I know he's lying, but I don't want to say anything, why should I say anything ? Nobody believes my anymore, Veruca the liar, Veruca the spoiled brat. I?d trade places with anyone, anywhere just to get away, but I can?t show weakness, Daddy always told me that. [/LEFT] [CENTER]---------------[/SIZE][/CENTER] [RIGHT]September 14th 2002[/RIGHT] [LEFT][SIZE=3][B]Dear Diary...[/B] He?s begun to leave marks, but I can?t show them to anyone. When he saw he?d made a mark, he changed, he got angry and told me that if I told anyone he?d come for me, he?d come and kill me. I want to tell Daddy, but he won?t believe me, so one day when I?m older I?ll get him, I?ll find him and hurt him as he hurts me. I must be strong, Daddy hates weakness, and if I?m weak he?ll hate me. [/LEFT] [CENTER]---------------[/SIZE][/CENTER] [SIZE=2][RIGHT]September 28th 2002[/RIGHT][/SIZE] [LEFT][SIZE=3][B]Dear Diary...[/B] He slipped his hand between my thighs today, the sensation made my skin crawl, I wanted to get sick. He laughed seeing my reaction, he said that there must be something wrong with me if I didn?t like it. The bastard, I swear one day I?ll get him, one day I?ll get him and I?ll kill him for all he?s done to me. [/LEFT] [CENTER]---------------[/SIZE][/CENTER] [RIGHT][SIZE=2]October 12th 2002[/SIZE][/RIGHT] [SIZE=3][LEFT]Dear Diary... His fingernails drew blood this time, but I didn?t cry, I didn?t respond. Daddy wonders why I don?t get any better at the piano, he hates spending money and seeing no return on his investment. ?Salt Industries Veruca? he said ?will one day be yours, you have to have that killer instinct if you want to survive in the world?. I swear I?ll get strong Daddy, and I?ll destroy anyone and anything that gets in my way. [/LEFT] [CENTER]---------------[/SIZE][/CENTER] [RIGHT][SIZE=2]January 9th 2003[/SIZE][/RIGHT] [SIZE=3][LEFT][B]Dear Diary...[/B][/LEFT] ?Famed Pianist Nigel Attonbury was arrested today, the musician who once performed with the London Symphony Orchestra was taken into police custody after claims emerged that the performer was a Child Molester. The police have refused to answer questions on the case, simply stating that they had been watching Mr Attonbury for some time, Attonbury?s solicitor Morris Phillips told The Independent that the charges were quote ?Frivolous? and ?Simply untrue?, Attonbury was due to perform in Prague later this month but has since decided to cancel the concert in order to fully face the accusations? [LEFT]I told him I?d get him, he laughed. Who?s laughing now ?[/LEFT] ---------------[/size] [SIZE=2][RIGHT]January 17th 2003[/RIGHT][/SIZE] [LEFT][SIZE=3][B]Dear Diary...[/B] It was my 12th birthday today, Daddy bought me loads of presents and we had all the family over for a huge meal. It was simply delicious, my cousin Pricilla got me a special edition Wonka Inc. CD, she says he?s one of the best musicians she?s ever heard. I?ll have a listen to it later and make my own decisions... [/LEFT] ---------------[/SIZE] [SIZE=5][B]Veruca Salt[/B][/SIZE] [SIZE=3][LEFT][B]Parent/Guardian:[/B] Mr. Salt. [B]Age:[/B] 14 [B]Vice:[/B] Sweets. [B]Biography:[/B] Veruca Salt is the only daughter of Theodore Amadeus Salt, the billionaire industrialist and in his own words ?Peanut Baron?. Questionably named Veruca was born on January 17th 1991, her father who was overseeing the takeover of a German rival at the time said he was quote ?Quite pleased with the result?, although we cannot sure that he wasn?t talking about the successful takeover in Germany. The billionaire who is known for his ruthless subjugation of opponents flew home later that week to see his daughter in London's Portland Hospital. Veruca knew little of media attention when she was young, her father strictly declined any and all attempts for journalists to interview the family, preferring to only present them to the world on their terms. Growing up as eventual heiress to the Salt fortune she was denied very few things as a child, although her father did expect to see her make use of his money in the long run, he does not in his own words ?tolerate weakness in anyone?. From as young an age as three years old, Veruca seemed to develop a very sweet tooth, rare Paparazzi photographs almost always catch her with some form of chocolate in her petite hands. It is well known that her favourite brand of chocolate is Wonka, the brand owned and created by notorious musician and chocolateer William Wonka. As opposed to the cold, ruthless and business minded young adult she is today, Veruca as a small child seemed to lack her father?s cold exterior. She would often be found eagerly talking to members of the house staff, now retired family butler Alfred Rutherworth described the Salt heiress as a pleasant, thoughtful, young girl. Her father decided that when he came to education, he didn?t want his daughter mixing with what he described as ?riff-raff?, instead her father elected to have Veruca instructed in the family home by some of the finest educators in the world. By age 9 however, Veruca had made the decision that she wished to interact with other children, showing her now infamous tenacity. Her father eventually relented and she allowed attend a boarding school in Scotland, the same school where several other members of the Salt family were and are educated. When Veruca first began to appear in the public domain she was a quiet and polite girl, she expressed interests that went against the typical stance of her father, such as the destruction of the Rainforest, an area where her father has large investment. Many people who knew the Salt family found the young girl to be a breath of fresh air compared to her stodgy and conservative father, and are sorry to see the changes that have occurred in the teenager?s once benevolent personality. Beyond Veruca herself, no one knows the cause of these huge shifts in her personality, the cause itself can be put down to two incidents that took place between 2001 and 2002. Her mother Julianne Salt, a onetime Broadway actress and now socialite of the highest calibre has always been dogged by controversy, from allegations of drug taking to public nudity, [none of which has ever been substantiated] there has always been an idiosyncrasy about her. What is not publicly known is that Mr and Mrs Salt are swingers, and hold such parties in the family home, none of these facts however have ever reached beyond those involved as it would hugely discredit the family. Veruca herself was unaware of her parent?s activities, as she would either be at boarding school when they occurred, or would be send away. One day however Veruca was present in the family home when a party was held, unknown to her parents, who believed her to be away for the weekend. When her father learned what she had witnessed he was simply furious, a side of her father she had never seen before. She knew that her father hated people having anything to hold over him, whether this was his own daughter or a rival it didn?t matter. Veruca in a cunning that would have once seemed foreign to the young girl demanded that her father increase her access to funds in order to secure her secrecy, he father agreed but warned her that blackmail might have unpleasant consequences. It is unknown whether or not Veruca?s father was talking about her blackmailing him, or just talking about blackmailing generally, either way Veruca suddenly decided it had not been a good idea to challenge her father. In June 2002 Veruca asked her father if she could learn to play the piano, grudgingly her father agreed, but said that he wouldn?t pay for a service that did not show results. Her father hired the renowned pianist Nigel Attonbury to instruct his daughter, a choice which lead to her being sexually abused for the space of roughly four months, from between July and November. Veruca believed that this is what her father had meant by ?unpleasant consequences? and that this was his revenge, although this is not actually true as her father had no idea that the musician was a child abuser, she swore she?d take everything from her father, and bring down the man he had hired to ruin her life. From there Veruca?s personality could only change for the worse, her once amiable tendencies were replaced by hatred, obduracy and a nasty superiority complex. She feigned an interest in her father?s business practices, learning all that she could until eventually she?d be able take everything from underneath him before he realised what was happening. Veruca?s love of Wonka products continued, and after her introduction to his music in early 2003 was another leisure pursuit she still indulges. In 2005 when Wonka announced that he would be holding a competition to give away Golden Tickets that give access to his famous factory she resolved that she would have one. With her access to a now excessive inheritance she bought Wonka chocolate bars and Wonka Inc. CDs by the truck load, and after 3 days of irritation, expensive and insomnia the glimmer of gold and silver caught her eyes. A faint smirk appeared on her face, if she could attain what she wanted so easily, her father would never know what hit him. Veruca offered few words in the press conference after her find, merely stating that she was ?Looking forward to getting to see the factory?. [B]Appearance:[/B] I'll trying to find good pictures for Veruca and her father, so I should have this done soon enough.[/LEFT][/font][/COLOR][/SIZE]

[Mimmsicle]

[B]Charlie Bucket[/B]

[B]Parent/Guardian:[/B] Grandpa Joe

[B]Age:[/B] 14

[B]Biography:[/B] Charlie Bucket is your ordinary rebellious teenage boy: making a mess of his room, playing loud music, cussing out his parents and being generally disrespectful towards them. But that?s not all. He frequently takes advantage of his mother?s abundance of make-up and clothes and every chance he gets to slip on a pair of silky panties or paint his lips in the most voluptuous pink is something he treasures more than jerking off. Because just like jerking off is something he has to do in secret, so are all the other rebellious acts carried out. Yes, you guessed it. Charlie?s life is run by his dominant mother who is raising him on her own after her husband, Charlie?s father, ran off with the pool guy. So when his mother comes home from work in the evenings, the house is in perfect order, all the spit has been wiped off the family portrait and the only sound that can be heard is Charlie rehearsing a classical piece on the piano. Like the good boy he is.

And Charlie [I]is [/I]a good boy, he just lacks confidence to stand up for himself and the courage to fully live life the way he would like. That?s probably why he lets people walk all over him; it?s the only way he knows to please people. But that?s all about to change.


Wise beyond his years, Charlie has both the appearance and attitude to match his maturity. This has its benefits as he realized one night while wandering all dolled up past a nightclub that he?d heard people buzz about. A very drunk man was badgering the bouncer, demanding to know just what the requirements for being let in were. Before Charlie could react he was being pulled over to demonstrate what they were before being herded into the 18+ club with the other approved. The joint was pretty packed with people of all orientations and kinks, most of which were scoping out prospects from the bar or trying to get lucky on the dance floor. Though some were satisfied with watching the set of stalls in a corner that was dark enough to offer some privacy but still enough lit to allow everyone to share the pleasure of those occupying them. Various toys were hanging from the ceiling in case the alcohol and music wasn?t enough to satisfy the customers. One couple tried to sneak a leather leash with them on their way out of a stall, a threesome had barely gotten into theirs before engaging in a heavy **** session. The sight of [so many] people openly giving into their desires made Charlie?s repressed mind spin and his groin scream for release.

?[I]People sure weren?t joking when they said this place vibrates with atmosphere[/I]? Charlie chuckled as the music died down briefly, trying to find his balance in this enticing new world. No sooner had he spoken as a soft breath tickled his ear and a strong hand gripped him between his legs from behind, rendering his self control to zero.

?[B]I see ..., or should I say [b]feel[/b],that the atmosphere isn't the only thing vibrating in here.[/B]?

The silence was instantly killed by music streaming out of the speakers, engulfing them both with its erotic beat. A body began rubbing against Charlie?s back and another hand snuck up his shirt to circle his nipples while the other hand kept a firm grip around his throbbing dick. He unconsciously arched into the person behind him, urged on by the hard pressure on his ***. The music seemed to seep into his pours; he could feel it fill all the empty space inside him. Never before had music offered him such sweet refuge. There was no thought anymore, everything switched over to autopilot and he surrendered himself completely. Offering what little resistance his arms could muster he loosened the grip of the hands covering his body and turned around to come face to face with the most gorgeous man he?d ever laid eyes on. Going with the moment he snaked one leg around the man, pushing them as close together as possible, while teasing his tongue over the others lips and running his hands through the short hair. The two melded, gyrating along lustfully to the song.

Halfway through the song they?d somehow found their way into a storage room and, while briefly stopping for air, exchanged names. His name was Tim, Charlie?s first time, and despite the age difference, eventual legal issues and most importantly the complications of keeping a boyfriend secret from his oppressive mom, they became lovers. The relationship was similar to that of a teacher and student, among which Tim taught him not only pleasurable techniques in the bedroom but also introduced him to the artist behind the song playing during their first encounter. It was Willy Wonka - considered by the unapproving mass as a raving lunatic, his fans recognized him as an eccentric genius.

One day after leaving Tim?s apartment Charlie walked past a music store and saw Wonka?s newest cd on sale. Weighing the risk of his mother finding the album he bought it along with a classical album to hide it in. Charlie?s whole world seemed to begin and end as the light bounced off the golden ticket inside the Wonka case on his lap, while his mother?s car pulled up the driveway.


Of course Charlie can?t very well bring his mom along and he has no idea where his father is. Sitting down and going through the list of possible relatives to take with him, the only one he remembers with fondness is his grandpa. Grandpa Joe had been accused for paedophilia when Charlie was around 7 years old, his mother severing all ties to the aging man, banning all contact between him and his grandson. When the young boy questioned the truth in the allegations she saw it as defiancy and quickly corrected it by sending him to a boot camp where both the adults in charge and kids gave him hell for 6 months. That was the only time he?d ever spoke up to her. Never finding out whether or not his grandpa had been cleared or not from the allegations, Charlie kept his memory of him pure, remembering only the fun games they got up to. A few investigating calls later a letter is sent, asking grandpa Joe to accompany Charlie to Wonka Inc.
[B]
Appearance:[/B] [IMG]http://www.otakuboards.com/attachment.php?attachmentid=23122&stc=1[/IMG]

[James]

[color=#D6A204]Okay then. I won't offer critiques this time, I'll just include a list of people who are in.

[b]Mimmi[/b] (Charlie Bucket)
[b]Bio[/b] (Mike Teevee)
[b]Annie[/b] (Violet Beauregarde)
[b]Aiyisha[/b] (Veruca Salt)
[b]Sean[/b] (Augustus Gloop)
[b]Corey[/b] (Nosey Rollingstone Reporter)

[b]James[/b] ([i]Willy Wonka[/i])

So there you have it. This RPG should begin soon. I may make an Underground thread about it, so that people can ask questions and so on. But for the time being, please use my [J] @ The Arena thread to discuss the RPG.[/color]