The Infinite Space
From Here To The Moon
Commenting To 
6th-Dec-2011 07:32 pm - Application: Exitvoid
soabirdcameand: (Catch me catch me catch--!)
player.
NAME/HANDLE: Sarah
PERSONAL JOURNAL: [livejournal.com profile] universejuice
ARE YOU 16 OR OVER?: Yes
CONTACT:
email: cageddemon@comcast.net
AIM: Universe Juice
plurk: YunisVerse
OTHER CHARACTERS: N/A


character.
CHARACTER NAME: Wheatley
SERIES: Portal
CANON POINT: Post-game
AGE: 999999—(unknown)
APPEARANCE: Canon appearance, though he’ll appear in an android form.

PREVIOUS GAME HISTORY: N/A

PERSONALITY: Somehow or another, Wheatley tries to balance the traits of being a selfish nitwit with his constant attempts to be amiable and helpful. The degree to which he succeeds varies depending on one’s take on him, but he certainly tries his hardest at it; trying is the one thing Wheatley will always do, no matter how much he fails. He certainly seems to have a tenuous understanding of how to go about being friendly, switching constantly from degrading to cheerful encouragement when speaking with others, playing brutally honest and delusively optimistic in one fell swoop.

Wheatley’s a very self-involved character, most often motivated by his desire to save his own skin—or his own steel, as it were. Wheatley will do pretty much anything he can think of to keep himself out of trouble, even if it will get him in even more trouble—he has trouble thinking things through, like that. In fact, his desire to keep himself safe often outweighs any notion of keeping others safe, even with potentially mortal consequences; he’s been willing to put human lives in danger just so he can get out of a bad situation. So, while Wheatley did end up quite liking working with Chell, going so far as to think of her as a partner and really wanting to succeed, it was hard for him to really fully trust her. When he betrayed her, it was because he saw no reason why she wouldn’t do the same, had the positions been reversed. And, heck, he was the one in power for once, so why should he give her the chance?

He would very much like to get along with anyone, anyone at all, but he doesn’t really understand how others think, and so pretty much expects everyone to dislike him anyway. The simple fact, when it comes to interacting with others, is that Wheatley has absolutely no filter about what to say to others, and anything that pops into his head comes right out without a second thought. Any rude or insulting comments are usually covered up with a quick denial, but when you get right down to it Wheatley just doesn’t seem to know how to keep his mouth shut.

Designed by the greatest, most talented minds to be the absolute biggest moron will really do a number on one’s confidence. It’s really not easy to accept that one is apparently incapable of not being an idiot, compelled to constantly make terrible decisions, and as a result, essentially doomed to be a failure for the entire of one’s digital life. Wheatley gets through it with thick layers of denial, forced optimism, and a lot of inferiority complexes. He’s always seeking to prove himself, regardless, hoping others will like his bubbly attitude and chatty nature, to prove he’s actually worth having around. Always hoping for the best, but subconsciously expecting the worst.

ABILITIES: Wheatley’s good with computers. In that he can use them. I mean, he knows what they are. And a bit of how they work. Okay, sometimes he has a burst of inspiration and can get them to do things for him, but it’s very hit-or-miss. By plugging himself into a device, he might be able to poke around and get things done a tad more efficiently than a regular human. However, it’s also possible, due to his Intelligence Dampening programming, he’ll just make whatever he plugs into work considerably less efficiently.

Also his eyes light up like flashlights.

POSSESSIONS: Wearing a funny-looking jumpsuit and a cracked pair of glasses. More than what he had before.


samples.
JOURNAL ENTRY SAMPLE: [Wheatley’s voice is tight, clearly in pain] H…Hello! Listen, got myself into, ah, bit of a tight spot, here. Nothing all that awful, that is, could surely handle it all myself, if push came to shove and all, but. I figured, you know, if there was any chance, I should give it a shot, see if anyone’s up for lending a, uh, hand, if possible, plausible…

[He takes a deep breath] The short of it is, I’m a bit penned, in this building, here, loads of things outside—don’t know how many, didn’t really think to count, gobs of them, is the point—and, er, I’m leaking a bit. Not sure what, exactly, is getting leaked, though. Something black, smells nasty, that much I can figure. Nothing to have me dead yet, else this would be a very hard message to manage, not quite dire, I’d say. But it is painful! Really very much so. Lots of pain.

Soooo. Recap: Me, losing fluids, in a building, and there are monsters around. For your consideration. Appreciate it. Thanks.

THIRD-PERSON SAMPLE: Well, for all the things that could be said about space—and as Wheatley's companion seemed set on endlessly reminding him, where were plenty—there was one thing that it could be commended for. Space never changed. It was consistent, and stable, and reliable.

"All pretty much synonyms for 'completely boring,' aren’t they." The switch from internal to verbal monologue had never been the sort of thing he took much into account. "Just. You'd think, place this big, there'd always be something neat to see. Really isn't. Just a lot of black, and sparkly bits. Always right where you left them. Never once does it occur to those things, 'Oh, maybe I fancy a holiday, shift a bit to the left, see how I like that.' All perfectly happy right where they're at."

"Nngh, mmh, space," replied the core drifting somewhere to Wheatley's right. "Gotta, gonna, be in space, see it all, all of space,"

"Well but that's what I'm getting at," Wheatley went on, not even bothering to turn his blue eye to look at the other robot. "I mean, we're just a little bit stuck over here, right? Place this big, gonna be hard to see all of it, unless it decides to move just around us."

"Sh… sh… shooting stars. Meteors, asteroids. H-Halley’s Comet!"

That brought pause to the complaints. "Ah. Those are moving bits, aren't they. Strike the record off, goes to show, what do I know about it.” His optic craned around, in a vain attempt to try and identify any particular stars that might be shooting, or the exciting pass of a meteor. “Never seen any of those myself, though. Maybe someone just made them up, make space sound more exciting.” Just a lot of black, with unmoving shiny dots. Not a single thing to break it up, save for that big looming Earth, practically taunting in the distance.

The other core hummed a disjointed tune, entirely missing any accusations of space being less than perfect. Wheatley gave a breathless sigh, closing his shutters over his optic.

"Yeah, you're right, mate. Maybe I just need to be looking a little harder."
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