Definition of meta gaming: Using knowledge you found that you've come across out of character in roleplay, when you couldn'r possibly have known said information.
Definition of power gaming: Is the goal of maximizing progress towards a specific goal. Or in some cases forcing actions onto others without giving an opportunity towards a counter-action.
What is your past experience in RP, Fallout or otherwise rp: I was previously staff on Fallout Wasteland Legends but quit due to the lack of interesting events on the server. I've also played Fallout 3 and a little bit of Fallout: New Vegas.
IC:
Name: Kassandra (AKA Kass)
Age: 27
Appearance: Underneath Kass's dark hood lies a beautiful face with haunted blue/green eyes.Her body, a tall, curvy figure, hidden by heavy clothing, is severely scarred yet still hold the grace and elegance from her once glamorous past. Her hair is auburn cut ragged by that of a dull blade. She has a limp leg that drags with her. While she has been traveling in the sun for awhile, but her skin is still pale and delicate.
Personality: Kassandra is very cautious, her past has left her unsure of any other human beings. She was once a very open flirty girl but her dark past twisted her veiw on mankind. Kassandra is not easily befriended. Her mood tends to sway fairly easily, which affects what her moral disposition is on a subject at any moment. She can feel a great desire to help people one moment, but then burn them to ashes the next.
Backstory: Kassandra was once apart of a vault who's number was long forgotten, her time in the vault was short lived, for ten minutes after she and her twin sister were born, a third, unrelated child entered the world. Due to the capacity of the vault having reached the point of overloading, this newest baby was placed outside the vault. The cry of this outcast baby alerted a nearby raider group who came to investigate the stressed sound. The raiders noticed the vault was not properly sealed and they quickly went inside and murdered everyone excluding children under the ages of 5. Kassandra and her twin were both taken by separate women and a few weeks later Kassandras adoptive mother realized the raider life was not for her and left with the tiny infant, separating her sister, Diane, from her life. Now for quite sometime the mother and daughter lived peacefully until sickness struck the beautifull loving mother. Her mother not wanting to leave her beloved without truth told her everything and that her sister, Diane Reckless, lived on. A few hours after she gave the information Kassandra buried her mother, her heart filled with anger, sadness, and grief. Even though her adopted mother kidnapped her she still felt the love for her for she was the only mother she had known. So kassandra traveled searching for her sister whose name was widely spread throughout the wasteland due to her trading posts. Eventually she met a woman named Ana whom she fell in love with. They searched together for some time until they came up blank. Kassandra decided to start a new life with Ana. With The help of Ana's kind brother they successfully impregnated Kass. When Kass was eight months pregnant they got word of Diane. They set out but the stressful trip made Kass go into labor in the middle of nowhere. She delivered the small crying boy who, just like she had, alerted nearby raiders. The raiders took the child and two women as captives, Kass was to nurse her child who was to be the head raiders wifes child due to her own child passing. Ana was abused by the men, and once Kass had weaned her son she was casted out and also abused. Ana saved her by distracting the men withan outbreak of violence as Kass escaped. She ran but not before hearing Ana's scream abruptly cut off. The only assumtion Kass could make was that they killed her. She knew her son was in good hands and she quickly fled to a town called Vardale where she stumbled upon her sister, Diane. She soon became acquainted with her life in Vardale, gaining access to her own mansion and an immense amount of wealth, and met a women named Erika whom she began a relationship with. Erika took good care of her and they became extremely close. Due to the amount of crime that had currently taken a hold of the nearby city of Lansing, Kass and Erika decided to become vigilantes. During a fight with an oversized, haywire robot, however, she was badly injured and came near to death, but became paralyzed from the waist down. Erika's medical expertise and help from some of her highly-intelligent associates allowed Kass to eventually gain use of her right leg after a year of procedures and physical therapy. Not too long after these events took place, Kass came across a newcomer to the city: a strange woman named Jaq. After a few encounters and conversations, it became apparent that these two could easily help each other out, and become decent friends in the process. One day, Kass came across information about her partner's previous and deep relationship with a man named Matt, who died after an intense confrontation with local, highly skilled hooligans. The jealousy that Kass now felt made it hard for her to love her mate as she once did. Weeks passed, and Kass grew more and more bored with the city and its inhabitants around her. One day, she caught wind that her friend, Jaq, had plans of leaving the city behind. Because Jaq was among the few people that Kass trusted, and they shared a mutual desire to find new sights, the two set off on an adventure, not knowing exactly where it might lead them...
Definition of meta gaming: Knowing something out of character and applying that knowledge in character. Knowing something your character could not possibly know.
Definition of power gaming: Forcing your actions to happen, and denying other players their emotes from occurring, even if its extremely unlikely they will succeed. Forcing your actions on other characters. Example: Manny StrongBad jumps down and shoots all the raiders in the head and kills them instantly without fail or messing up.
What is your past experience in RP, Fallout or otherwise?: I have spent about
IC:
Name: Teleia Index
Age: 23
Appearance: Teleia Index is a 23 year old female, with a small frame and a height of 5'6". She weighs 120 pounds, and is malnutritioned. Her skin (when clean) is a pasty pale white. Her hair is brown, and goes down to her neck, although its usually tied back with twine into a sloppy bun. Her eyes are a shocking watery blue color. She has a large scar across her face, along with several long scars down her back from multiple whippings and punishments. Her nose is slightly crooked from having it broken and it not setting correctly. She has a metal stud in each earlobe. She wears a tealish colored turtleneck shirt and a scarf, made of her old rags that were used as clothing. She has a set of shackles around her wrists and one around her neck, hidden behind the turtleneck and scarf.
Personality: Gets thrown into a rage when encountering a slaver (Or someone along these lines). SHe’s very untrusting of strangers, and has a hard time making friends. Once she’s made a friend, she opens up to them completely. Otherwise, shes generally shut in to herself.
Backstory: Teleia Index was a simple tribeswoman in the Xidkoh tribe located somewhere near Denver in Legion territory. She was 17 at the time, a carefree teenager, who’s only real responsibility was to play and have fun. Life was pretty much perfect for Teleia, she had a sister named Carol, and tons of friends. Of course, living in legion territory had its risks, and one day these game to fruition. It happened around 6:30 PM, when the village was settling down for the night, when in over the hill, a large group of Legionnaires, armed to the teeth, came marching into her village. They rounded up the entire village in a short period of time, (With the exception of the hunting party that was out) and set them in one big group. They singled out the men into a separate crowd and covered them in a storm of lead, leaving all of them to fall down dead in the dirt. A few stray bullets landed in the group of to be slaves, and cries of agony and grief rang out, among them was Teleias sister, screaming in pain. Teleia dashed towards her fallen sibling and got down on her knees beside her. She had been shot in the arm, a non fatal injury, but the bullets seemed like something out of science fiction to them, and the type of wound seemed new and strange. Teleia’s eyes filled with tears as her sister spoke to her in their common tongue, “Teleia.... I’m not dead… Be brave... Fight back!“ She whispered harshly, as the soldiers marched forward, caroling the village forward. One of the Leggioners sees Teleia on the ground next to Carol, and walks over angrily. He yells at both of them in english, and strikes at Teleia with his homemade machete. Although he had severely misjudged how close Teleia was, she still received a very nasty gash across her face. Teleia screamed in pain, her hands flying up to her face, as blood seeped around her eyes and stung at them. Carol gasps and goes to stragle to her feet and take Teleia up as well, understanding that being down would most likely result in their death at the least. She had a cloth wrapped diagonally around her head to match the gap that would never heal properly, and leave behind a nasty looking scar. This act would be something the legionnaires would never forget in all 4 and a half years of Teleias time in their slave camp, whipping her unnecessarily, taking their aggression out on her (Along with a few others) and generally being a complete ass to her. Her normal clothing that she had worn in the tribe had been torn from her, and replaced with what could have been a large rag. Her once cheerful life had turned into a living hell.
But, this was not the end of Teleias story. A couple of years later in her capture. 6 years to be exact, the legion was moving the camp Teleia was in farther into legion territory. This would most likely be Teleias best chance to escape, and her only one at that. Once night had fallen, she tripped and fell into a ditch, playing dead. At this point, the slaves were pretty much dropping like she was, only not alive. Fortunately, she had managed to sneak away with more food than most of the slaves, stealing it whenever she could from whoever she could. It was her sister's advice. “Take care of yourself, and only yourself… Otherwise you’ll die.” She said to her one evening. Teleia practically lived by this motto now, only sharing her stash with Carol, and often times she paid for it. Upon a random slave confirming her “Death” by kicking her and Teleia not responding. After the large group had left her behind, she got up and stumbled back towards where they had come from, back towards where her village was. She had kept track of where her villages general direction was by making arrows in the dirt.
After about a days worth of travel, she finds the remains of what used to be her village. The huts and shacks have been razed to the ground, and every valuable looted. Teleia falls to her knees after searching the last burnt out building, placing her hands to her face and sobbing. She cries for a solid hour, before someone taps her shoulder, startling her and making her sprawl forward in surprise. Upon turning around, she sees a group of people in midwest power armor, staring down at her. She quivers in fear upon seeing the heavily armored and oddly helmeted people, pushing away and shaking her head. One of them approaches her and crouches down, speaking to her in a gentle manner, “Hello there… You seem lost. In more ways than one. Would you mind if we helped you?” The man under the helmet said. Teleia, having learned some of the very basics of the english language, speaks back, “Teleia… Teleia hungry… And scared.” She murmurs back. The man nods his head, motioning for one of the other armored people behind him. One walks forward with a sack, setting it on the ground for Teleia, who cautiously opens it up to find it full of food. She immediately takes some of the parcels out and begins to gorge herself frantically. The armored men chuckle faintly and the man in front of her stands up, “Nice to meet you… Teleia was it? I’m sorry to say this, but we have to move on out. Theres a caravan coming along soon on its way to the east. Get a job from them, I’m sure they’ll let you tag along.” He says, before turning around with the rest of his group and walking off. Teleia just sits there and munches away, watching them leave silently.
After a good four hours of waiting, said caravan makes an appearance, walking a long train of brahim carrying supplies. With them is a couple of people, well armed and armored for their trip. Teleia stands up and waves at them, drawing them over. The leader of the caravan approaches her and says, “Hi there, looking for some supplies?” He asks. Teleia looks confused for a second before saying, “Metal men say that Teleia able to get job for food with caravan. Can Teleia do that?” She asks, seeming somewhat wary of the person before her. The caravan leader looks down at her with his somewhat hardened brown eyes and grins, “But of course! We could always use some new help around here. You’ll be able to work for food and eventually get some better clothes.” He says, before going back to his group and showing her around. She nods faintly, slowly taking in what her life was going to be like for about half a year.
They daisy chained across the country, going from city to city eastward bound and eventually coming across the big apple. At this point, Teleia had lost her caravan in an unfortunate series of events of being lost and not at all being prepared for the sprawling city landscape of New York. Shes left to fend for herself in the Big Apple, with nothing more than a knife, some food and her scared self.
The Meaning of Life, the Universe, and Everything.
Join Date:
1/21/2011
Posts:
57
Member Details
@Breannasaurous
"With The help of Ana's kind brother they successfully impregnated Kass... exactly where it might lead them."
I was with you up until this point. This section smacks of RP you've done in the past with this character, which I fully support, however you're going to need to strip several parts from your backstory ranging from towns which don't appear in our canon to her sudden, immense gain of wealth. Your backstory also raises several questions which aren't answered, the first of which is why she can't find a sister whose name is spread across the waste. I'd love to see a reworked version of this which is a little more conservative and is more in line with the details of a character who would just be starting out, and how she wound up in New York I'm going to turn you down, but you're welcome to revise and reapply, and I'm sorry it took so long for us to get back to you.
The Meaning of Life, the Universe, and Everything.
Join Date:
1/21/2011
Posts:
57
Member Details
@worldhero
We're not huge fans of dead parent backstories, and yours raises some questions in particular. How was his mother exposed to that amount of radiation in a vault?
What experiments do you refer to?
How do you plan to have a character survive in the harsh wasteland of New York with dementia and a vulnerability to the sun?
What is the point of including the crazy plan when the vault was just opened?
New Jersey is underwater, we'd prefer if you picked an unspecified vault outside of New York to have him emerge from.
We want more of what your character's motivations and what has made him what he is in your backstory, rather than a jumble of attributes. It's an interesting character, please re-write some of those details and resubmit.
Definition of meta gaming: Using knowledge you found that you've come across out of character in roleplay, when you couldn't possibly have known said information.
Definition of power gaming: Is the goal of maximizing progress towards a specific goal. Or in some cases forcing actions onto others without giving an opportunity towards a counter-action.
What is your past experience in RP, Fallout or otherwise rp: I was previously staff on Fallout Wasteland Legends but quit due to the lack of interesting events on the server. I've also played Fallout 3 and a little bit of Fallout: New Vegas.
IC:
Name: Jade
Age:20
Appearance: Jade has an hourglass figure, standing at approximately 5'10". Her long hair is pale blonde, bleached by hours in the sun, yet her complexion retains a pale tone. One of her most prominent feature are her eyes, deep, wide and bright green. The clothing on her back has obviously seen several previous owners, consisting of a pale-blue, tattered long-sleeved tee which once advertised something that is most likely as long-gone from history as the logo is undiscernible, over her shirt she wears a dusty once handsome leather jacket. Her jeans are worn with age and wear, covered in holes. strapped across her chest a ragged messenger bag hangs. The most pristine part of her outfit would be a dusty pair of leather sandals she recently found in an old, ruined shop.
Personality: Jade is a very soft-spoken and gentle soul, and can be very indecisive about major decisions, tending to overthink them most of the time. When it comes to dealing with others, she is an easily trusting person and is willing to give anyone a chance, no matter what she may been told about them.
Backstory:
Jade woke up to the startling scream of a woman near by, heart racing she peered through the wooden planks of her makeshift shelter. The scene before her made her stomach drop and for a second she was frozen in fear. Raiders had entered the small camp and were destroying everything. She quickly awoke her aunt who had acted as her mother for the last 17 years as her mother had decided she didn't want the responsibility of a child and her father had never been in the picture. "Deena, wake up, there's raiders" she quickly muttered shaking her ragged Aunt. Her aunt was a woman you could tell was one beautiful and full of grace, she had bright blue eyes strawberry blonde hair and under those now sunken tired eyes there had been a beautiful youthful woman. They were lucky the raiders hadnt reached her shelter for it was slightly farther away from the rest of the camp due to her Aunt antisocial personality. Jade had always wondered about her aunts past but never questioned for the one time she had her aunt had become unresponsive and her eyes welled with tears of pain. While Jade had always been annoyed with being a bit farther from camp she was grateful at this time. "No time to pack" her aunt muttered as she grabbed the emergency pack that Jade had never really given a second thought until now. Her aunt started crawling out the narrow opening in the pack and Jade followed suite only to be yanked back roughly by her hair. She let out a strangled cry and started to struggle against the raiders big brawny hands. "Look what we have here" He chuckled as he stroked her hair. "Better not let something this pretty go to wa-" His words cut off and blood unexpectedly pour from his neck. Stunned, Jade watched the body fall only to see her aunt behind him. She quickly yanked the knife out of the back of the fallen mans neck. "What are you standing their for? Let's get out of here." she muttered as she step over the raider who was still struggling for life. Jade could only nod for she was at a loss for words, her eyes fixated on the dying raider.Jade kneeled down and grabbed the knife that had been in the tight gasp of his hand. In doing this she looked into his eyes which pleaded for help and were filled with pain. Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth and she felt a deep guilt. She took the tip of the blade and pushed it into his chest in the approximate location of where his heart would be. His body shuttered out one last breath that caused blood to spray her face from his neck. Her head snapped up as she heard raiders heading in her direction. Leaving the knife in his chest she fled, catching up to her Aunt whom was a few meters ahead. "Lets move" she said grabbing her aunts small delicate wrist.
They ran for what felt like hours, until finally coming to a stop somewhere in the midst of ruins. Jade sat down on a large piece of concrete and started to pick a few goatheads out of her feet. "Where are we going?" She asked without looking up at her aunt. "You're going to stay here. I know where we are, I know people nearby. I'm going to go find them but you have to stay here." her aunt said and tossed down the bag she had snatched from their shelter earlier. Jade nodded and fiddled with the strap of the bag. "Jade, I love you." Her aunt said as she pulled a small pendant off from around her neck. She placed it in the palm of Jades hand. Jade fiddled with the smooth piece of green stone, it had been her mothers. She looked up at her unsure of why she would give this to her. "I'll see you soon." Her aunt said as she turned and walked through the dust ruins.
She sat there for hours, those hours tuned into days, and eventually she had been there for a week. Her Aunt could be anywhere by now and it was clear that she wasn't going to return. Jade brushed of the thought that someone might have killed her.On that seventh day she picked up her backpack still heavy with food and water it contained and she started walking. She didn't stop walking, never speaking to people or responding to anyone she walked, scavenging for food here and there and then continuing. One day she over heard men talking about something called the big apple and it captured her attention for she had been born there yet had not given it a second thought until now. what if her mother still lived there? Even if she didn't it was worth a shot to head there right? With nothing left to loose she headed onward towards the big apple. She new she was near for she could see the buildings towering in the distance. This was it, she was entering the big apple.
(I will sketch a better picture later this is just to give a general idea for the time being)
The Meaning of Life, the Universe, and Everything.
Join Date:
1/21/2011
Posts:
57
Member Details
@Breannasaurous
I appreciate you giving this another try. The quality here is much higher than your previous attempt. What we're looking for in a backstory is information from the character's past which reveals details on how the character responds to various situations. If this were the backstory for the aunt you mention, it would make a lot more sense. If you could make it a little more of an oversight of what has happened so far in you character's life, and the decisions she's made rather than one specific situation I don't see any reason why I couldn't approve you. Some questions you might want to answer are where she came from, her strategies for overcoming conflict (not necessarily combat), and what her plans are for her future.
It excites me that this server is rather difficult to get into. It's promising.
OOC: Breanna
Minecraft Username: breannasarousrex
Age: 19
Definition of meta gaming: Using knowledge you found that you've come across out of character in roleplay, when you couldn't possibly have known said information.
Definition of power gaming: Is the goal of maximizing progress towards a specific goal. Or in some cases forcing actions onto others without giving an opportunity towards a counter-action.
What is your past experience in RP, Fallout or otherwise rp: I was previously staff on Fallout Wasteland Legends but quit due to the lack of interesting events on the server. I've also played Fallout 3 and a little bit of Fallout: New Vegas.
IC:
Name: Jade
Age:20
Appearance: Jade has an hourglass figure, standing at approximately 5'10". Her long hair is pale blonde, bleached by hours in the sun, yet her complexion retains a pale tone. One of her most prominent feature are her eyes, deep, wide and bright green. The clothing on her back has obviously seen several previous owners, consisting of a pale-blue, tattered long-sleeved tee which once advertised something that is most likely as long-gone from history as the logo is undiscernible, over her shirt she wears a dusty once handsome leather jacket. Her jeans are worn with age and wear, covered in holes. strapped across her chest a ragged messenger bag hangs. The most pristine part of her outfit would be a dusty pair of leather sandals she recently found in an old, ruined shop.
Personality: Jade is a very soft-spoken and gentle soul, and can be very indecisive about major decisions, tending to overthink them most of the time. When it comes to dealing with others, she is an easily trusting person and is willing to give anyone a chance, no matter what she may been told about them.
Backstory:
Jade woke up to the startling scream of a woman near by, heart racing she peered through the wooden planks of her makeshift shelter. The scene before her made her stomach drop and for a second she was frozen in fear. Raiders had entered the small camp and were destroying everything. She quickly awoke her aunt who had acted as her mother for the last 17 years as her mother had decided she didn't want the responsibility of a child and her father had never been in the picture. "Sophia, wake up, there's raiders" she quickly muttered shaking her ragged Aunt. Her aunt was a woman you could tell was one beautiful and full of grace, she had bright blue eyes strawberry blonde hair and under those now sunken tired eyes there had been a beautiful youthful woman. They were lucky the raiders hadnt reached her shelter for it was slightly farther away from the rest of the camp due to her Aunt antisocial personality. Jade had always wondered about her aunts past but never questioned for the one time she had her aunt had become unresponsive and her eyes welled with tears of pain. While Jade had always been annoyed with being a bit farther from camp she was grateful at this time. "No time to pack" her aunt muttered as she grabbed the emergency pack that Jade had never really given a second thought until now. Her aunt started crawling out the narrow opening in the pack and Jade followed suite only to be yanked back roughly by her hair. She let out a strangled cry and started to struggle against the raiders big brawny hands. "Look what we have here" He chuckled as he stroked her hair. "Better not let something this pretty go to wa-" His words cut off and blood unexpectedly pour from his neck. Stunned, Jade watched the body fall only to see her aunt behind him. She quickly yanked the knife out of the back of the fallen mans neck. "What are you standing their for? Let's get out of here." she muttered as she step over the raider who was still struggling for life. Jade could only nod for she was at a loss for words, her eyes fixated on the dying raider.Jade kneeled down and grabbed the knife that had been in the tight gasp of his hand. In doing this she looked into his eyes which pleaded for help and were filled with pain. Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth and she felt a deep guilt.
She remembered when she was 17 and had gone out alone for the first time to scavenge. She had been in an old shopping mart of some kind and a man had snatched her from behind. She was helpless against him until a kind stranger snapped his neck freeing her from his rough grabbing hands. At that point in her life she realized how defenseless she was towards other beings. From then on the stranger by the name of Erik became a close friend of hers and he trained her not to hold back on any accounts.Eventually he headed out west but left her with all his knowledge. She took the tip of the blade and pushed it into his chest in the approximate location of where his heart was located. She had never killed before, up until now her life had been relatively peaceful never changing paces too often and rather peaceful, or as peaceful as it could possibly be being in the wastelands.
As she watched his body shutter out one last breath that caused blood to spray her face from his neck, she knew that she did what she had to, to survive. Her head snapped up as she heard raiders heading in her direction. Leaving the knife in his chest she fled, catching up to her Aunt whom was a few meters ahead. "Lets move" she said grabbing her aunts small delicate wrist.
They ran for what felt like hours, until finally coming to a stop somewhere in the midst of ruins. Jade sat down on a large piece of concrete and started to pick a few goatheads out of her feet. "Where are we going?" She asked without looking up at her aunt. "You're going to stay here. I know where we are, I know people nearby. I'm going to go find them but you have to stay here." her aunt said and tossed down the bag she had snatched from their shelter earlier. Jade nodded and fiddled with the strap of the bag. "Jade, I love you." Her aunt said as she pulled a small pendant off from around her neck. She placed it in the palm of Jades hand. Jade fiddled with the smooth piece of green stone, it had been her mothers. She looked up at her unsure of why she would give this to her. "I'll see you soon." Her aunt said as she turned and walked through the dust ruins.
She sat there for hours, those hours tuned into days, and eventually she had been there for a week. While sitting there for those hours she contemplated what her life had been so far. She was unsure of where to go now for Her Aunt could be anywhere by now and it was clear that she wasn't going to return. Jade brushed of the thought that someone might have killed her.She knew she had to leave eventually or starve. On that seventh day she picked up her backpack still heavy with food and water it contained and she started walking. She didn't stop walking, never speaking to people or responding to anyone she walked, scavenging for food here and there and then continuing.
One day she over heard men talking about something called the big apple and it captured her attention for she had been born there yet had not given it a second thought until now. what if her mother still lived there? Even if she didn't it was worth a shot to head there right? With nothing left to loose she headed onward towards the big apple. She needed a motivation and this was it. It was a location. A goal. Not knowing how far it was she traveled for months, her feet aching constantly but a goal was the only thing that kept her thriving. It was all she had to live for.
She could finally see her destination in the horizon. But where would she go from here? What about her mother? Was she there? And if she wasnt what would she do? Maybe she could become a small merchant. It was an easy life right? Unsure of where to start she stumbled into the city walking slowly for this city brought a whole new level of fear to her and she felt small in a city so big. This was the big apple after all.
Definition of meta gaming: Using info gained in OOC to your advantage IC
Definition of power gaming: Doing an action to a player instantly without them being able to retaliate.
What is your past experience in RP, Fallout or otherwise?: I have roleplayed for years, I'm not even sure myself how long I have been but it's been as long as I can remember. It was mostly just textwise rping but about a year ago I was introduced to roleplaying in minecraft. I was told about this server by UofMTigerFan who explained the history of fallout to me since I have not played the games.
IC:
Name: Nathaniel Kenway
Age: 19
Appearance: Nathaniel is albino so he has mostly colorless white hair that looks like it is in a perminate state of bedhead. His skin barely has any pigment in it whatsoever, it looking almost as white as snow. His eyes are a very pale green that tend not to show emotion. He wears a long black hooded jacket over a beaten up white shirt with jeans and sneakers.
Personality: When you first meet him, Nathaniel is very kind and selfless. He will usually go out of his way to help those who are in need even if it endangers himself. However the longer one is around him the more he seems... off. When his true colors laced with dementia and obsession give way he tends to say more and more unusual things that most wouldn't really understand. He has an obsession with those who have ability and a major inferiority complex.
Backstory:
Nathaniel spent his early life in a Vault in Maine with his guardian, having not known his parents. The last Overseer had matched the children up to different guardians and general caretakers. He was born with albinism as well as frontotemporal dementia, a mental disorder. He spent the rest of his childhood in the same Vault as he was born in. Nathaniel's life was truly one of difficulty and struggling due to the Vault's experiment. The Vault was filled with people with mental illnesses and left them completely untreated, with sociopaths as security guards and a schizophrenic Overseer. And only having one guardian to raise him didn't really help too much with that. He barely had anything to do to preoccupy himself with, mostly spending his days alone or talking to the other insane residents in a twisted sort of optimism. When he was in his teens he was at his worst. It was almost impossible to get the boy to stop rambling about justice, hope, talent, and his own worthlessness. It got to the point where the majority of the other Vault residents despised him. Some even broke to the point of beating him but he hardly ever fought back against his attackers, just ranting even louder how they should go ahead and use him if they have any good talents or abilities because they are better than his worthless self which only made their beatings worse. It got to the point where some of the residents had to be restrained by the sociopathic guards that internally also wanted to beat him.
One day something in his mind snapped and when someone approached him, hand balled into a fist to try to punch him he just laughed loudly. A somewhat weak, raspy, breathy laugh. The resident stopped, obviously taken off guard. The man who almost assaulted him and some of the others that were watching obviously saw it in his eyes that whatever bit of sanity that was left in him was taken away. Though the man himself and the others were mentally ill as well, they still seemed shocked. They were even more shocked when Nathaniel kicked the man between the legs causing him to crumble to the ground. They were speechless, having thought he wouldn't actually hurt anyone. They were even more taken aback when he brought his foot down to stomp on his chest, letting out another wordless laugh and shaking his head. The man on the ground began yelling back up at him, telling him to get the hell off and that everyone hates him. He finally spoke up. "I will if you lick my shoes like the filthy man you are."
Years passed by as the other residents either wanted to befriend him only to manipulate him or in solitude. Eventually, at the age of 18 the Vault opened, forcing everyone to leave. He seeing the world outside for the first time. Well, mostly just Maine. Due to him realizing the sun's rays being harmful to his health, he mostly stayed underground in metro tunnels, wandering around aimlessly and using the pistol he had taken to defend himself from mutated creatures and feral ghouls. Eventually rumors came to his ears of the all mutant faction in New York City, this somewhat striking his interest. After a very long time walking through the tunnels, stopping to rest, killing whatever would attack him, and emerging to walk on the surface occasionally at night, he entered the city.
Definition of meta gaming:Meta gaming is the use of information which the player has found out about while not in character (OOC) and are using it while in character. (this includes motives and actions)
Definition of power gaming: Power gaming is when a player forces a move and/or a reaction out of/on another character or situation.
What is your past experience in RP, Fallout or otherwise?: rp games and I was part of a Shadow of Israphel reanactment, I played Skyrim & Fallout 3 and new vegas
IC:
Name: Kay
Age: 18
Appearance: Kay has a regulators trench coat, a PIP Boy, his father gave him, which was his before. He has black hair, he is African American. He has black eyes. And to the naked eye, he looks kind, with his smile. He is a skinny person, he's not very strong, but he is agile and is good with a long range gun, but can also fight with melee or close light close range guns.
Personality: A bright mind tainted by the wasteland,happily cynical, grumpy, and Proud. He never forgets what people do. He is too sided. To people who don't know him, he seems kind and easy to manipulate. But if any thing, he is good at manipulating people. He loves Nuka Cola and snack cakes. He is trying to find something worth fighting for in the Apple or something to invest in. He loves to push people and is quick to anger. Will walk up to the biggest guy and get in to a fight. He is also a little paranoid and sometimes hears thing that arent there. He is willing to do anything to survive. Falls into random flashes of Depression.
Backstory
Kay was born in 2267 in a small town outside of DC with his Father, Mother and his sister Katlin. . The town was a small town and his family owned the general store, where many travellers came to buy and sell guns, foods, and more.
As a child, Kay enjoyed the warmth of the sun and the drink Nuka Cola. It was just so good. He enjoyed listening to stories about the prewar days from his parents and other townsfolk that were passed down from parent to parent. He also enjoyed annoying his sister, claiming "it was his job". He just lived to see how far he could push people before they cracked. He also hung out with the people around town, though most of the time, he was laughed at by the kids for seeing things that weren't there. And his parents thought it was just his imagination
Though he enjoyed his life, his parents were extremely strict. They demanded respect(even if they didn't give any back) and if you didn't give them it you'd be disciplined harshly.
Kay was expected to get up, clean his room, help his father in the shop, polishing the guns and melee weapons. Only then could he play.
It may not have seemed bad but with his mother there, it was terrible. A lot of times, she took out angers from various things on him. If caravans were running late, which they often did, he could bet his mother would be holding him back, critisizing every little thing, calling him names, cussing, breaking things just so he'd have to clean it up and such. He'd be lucky if she would let him go out for more than five minutes before bed and his father wasn't better either. He'd soon grow to hold hard grudges and resent his parents, though he was good at hiding it.
His sister fit like a glove in this, following orders and listening to her parents. Meanwhile, Kay was enraged(privately) and would have rage flashes in private for the rest of his life, where he became extremely angry and was extremely destructive. Voices that didn't have faces would scream around him, kill them, kill them all. He tried to ignore them.
While Kay did listen to his parents, he was subtlily angry. He was passive agressive. After all, he was afraid of his parents and it wasn't like he could just talk to them. What if they abandoned him. What would he do?
A solution finally came at the age of 10 when his father decided it was time to teach him to defend himself. Everyday, before he did his chores, his father taught his hand to hand combat, how to fire a rifle and different fire arms and though those 3 years of training brought him and his father closer, it didn't make the grudges and resentment disappear.
Yet even with the friendship growing it still didn't help much. Kay was skinny and liked guns unlike his father who was bulky and more of Melee person.
By the time Kay was 16, his sister was 24 and lived in the town, though not with her parents and had made money off of the things she scavenged. She was still also working in the shop, and finally in 2283, she decided to help the family by getting an investment from her parents and opening a caravan to sell the items from the shop all over. And on a warm summers day, she set off.
She never returned.
His parents soon found out she'd ran off and abandoned them by the week when a few townsfolk found the caravan which returned with just the mercenaries who'd and were good friends of the family, guarded it and Katlins journal book with a letter, that was left. Inside was one single entry in which Katlin spoke of her plans of abandonment in a form of a letter. She spoke to the mercenaries, telling them to deliever a letter to to her parents. Kay never found out what the letter said and he darent ask. By the next day they were back to normal.
Regardless if what the letter said, Katlin left the family and neither of the parents wanted that to happen again. They made damn sure Kay would not do so.
So for the next two years, They worked him hard, critisized him harder and never let him off of work as if that how they'd get him to stay.
He'd taken Katlin leave hard. Regardless of age, to him, she was the little sister and it was his job to protect her and... He failed.
He couldn't go on living, he was washed with guilt and it was too much. The voices came back, screaming kill yourself, do it.
On his eighteenth birthday, his father father gave him a Regulator trench coat, he'd been sold at the shop, a sniper rifle and a knife. Kay loved it, though he knew it didn't matter.
That say, his mother and father said to him," Life is what you make of it, remember that." It didnt matter much then, but he'd remember that forever. It was strange the way his father was at that movement.
Late in the night, he stood over his desk and looked at the contents. What laid of the table before him was chems all sorts, cocaine, med x, pshyco, jet and more. Hed stolen them from the shop. What did he plan to use them for? Over dose.
His entire life was ridiculed with shame. On one side, a family that abused him on another, the shame of losing his sister. He just couldnt take it.
Suddenly, Kay smell something burning. Turning to the door, he was shocked to see the door, lit on fire as it began to spread through the room. And for the first time in a long time, Kay was afraid of death. the flames roared as they began to engulf the room. If he didnt hurry, he'd die. Grabbing a bag in his room, he threw all of the chems into the bag. He could overdose later, now he had to get out before the flames melted his flesh. He'd been wearing the regulator cloak already. Grabbing his sniper rifle and knife and propeled him, self out of the broken window of his room as the flames ate more of the room.
The house was a prewar house that had been touch up. It was one story so he was fine. Looking at the burning general store and the house, he just looked. he didnt care. Just didnt. The flames flickered as townfolk panicked.
No one knew what caused the fire. but in the ruble, they found the chared bodies of his parents. friends cried. Every one cried.
Except Kay, all he did was smirk.He wasnt mad, sad.( that rhymed ) He just stood there. The fire had snapped him right out of his suicidal state. There wpuld be time to morn for his sister later.
His parents had left him an inhertitance, left with a trusted friend. 200 caps. Taking the caps, he left. For 2 months he walked the wasteland, living off of nuka cola, snack cakes and anything he could find and killing whatevers in his way.It would be injustice to kill himself. To show his parents he was sad. No, he just kept going. He needed to start a new life, a new home. Even with his parents dead, he still would not give them peace. Forgiveness, that wasnt Kay's thinking. Fool his once, shame on you, he's gonna kill you or die trying.
Finally, he came to New york city, the Empire Wasteland. A new home, a new start. Grinning, he remembered what his father said," Life is what you make of it, remember that,"
Minecraft Username: AFiestyHobo (Yes, misspelled and everything.)
Age: 18
Definition of meta gaming: Meta-gaming is when an individual's character has knowledge of information that has yet to be, or is not mentioned in-game to said character. This often occurs when an individual is told information OOC and they have difficulty keeping what they know out of the mind of their character. This can lead to strategy-building, planning, or other Role-Play activities based upon knowledge that a character does not have.
Definition of power gaming: I have not heard of ‘power-gaming’ though I assume it follows the same definition as something the role-play groups I have been apart of refers to as ‘God-Modding’? (Please feel free to correct me if I am wrong!). This is when a character is given powers, strengths, or weapons that are not suitable to the Lore (characters own and/or rp), Area, or gives them an unrealistically unjust advantage against other players which can provoke conflict. This can also include attacking and injuring anothers character without giving them a chance to respond to said attack.
What is your past experience in RP, Fallout or otherwise?: I am primarily a literary based 1x1 role-player. I began my experiences on ‘Gaia Online’ and was part of multiple roleplay ‘guilds’. I left there a number of years back, after which I was part of a large email-based Fallout (2-3, then another separate New Vegas group) when Ida (my OC) was created (roughly two years ago). During this time I also had a tumblr account where I was part of a Bioshock (1 to infinite) rp group playing the Canon character Atlas.
IC
Name: Ida Berceuse
Age: Born on May 15th 2266. This makes her nineteen-years-of-age.
Appearance:
Hair: Waist-length with some ‘body’ (waves and the occasional curl) dependant upon the weather. The only part of it she has cut are her bangs, which are shorn across her brow in a rather straight fashion. The colour of her hair is stark-white and due to the filthy conditions of the wasteland looks dust/dirty more often than other hues.
Skin: Ida has skin that is so pale it borders on translucent, showing her major veins with ease. This makes her very susceptible to sun poisoning and other skin-related issues.
Eyes: Her eyes are a pale violet color due to her lack of melanin, which causes them to truly be a pale blue colour however due to the blood vessels underneath it appears to be lilac. She also has very poor eyesight because of this, meaning her depth perception and facial recognition are severely compromised.
Height: 5’ 4” or 162.6 cm.
Weight: 120 lbs or 54.43 kg.
Unique Attributes: Miss Berceuse was born with a condition known as Oculocutaneous Albinism One or OCA1, which affects the pigment in her eyes, skin, and hair. Due to a mutation she has no active tyrosine, therefore it cannot produce melanin, which is responsible for colouring the skin, eyes, and hair of individuals. This inhibits her ability to see (go to Eyes for more information) and prohibits her from ‘tanning’, leaving her with no protection to sunburns, including the most extreme version, sun poisoning. Whether this is an inherited genetic condition due to both of her parents being carriers of the recessive gene, or due to a mutation caused by elevated levels of radiation exposure on behalf of both of her parents (See Victor Berceuse or Susan Berceuse for more information) is undetermined.
(Picture WiP)
Clothing:
Ida wears her pale-blue, fairly worn, Vault 92 Suit with the addition of gloves (courtesy of her Mother) and a large white wide-brimmed hat that use to have a black-ribbon bow adorning it. This was worn to concerts in her Vault.
Personality: She is a hopeful, naive person who takes most everyone at face-value. Her compassion for nearly every other living being often makes her appear foolish to other more hardened wastelanders. Though she is credulous, she is not stupid. On the contrary, Ida has a knack for conversing her way out of difficult situations and knows a fair share about pre-war literature thanks to the sophistication and interests of her Vault companions. Miss Berceuse has a strong sense of self-preservation though views harming another person as a last resort at all times.
Backstory:
Ida was born on May 15th, 2266 in the ‘safety’ of Vault 92, to her father Victor Berceuse and mother, Susan Berceuse (maiden name Huges). Like many of the vaults produced by Vault-Tec, this too was an experimental vault hidden under the guise of ‘preserving musical talent’. Classical musicians were invited into this vault, the majority of them being those who had made a name for themselves in the orchestral world. The true intentions of the vault however were far more sinister.
History of Vault 92
(Due to the 100 year duration of Vault 92 canonically, time has been added to better allow my OC to hail from this Vault. There are also some situations that appear here that do not in Fallout 1-New Vegas, due to the day to day life and events of the Vault not being explored in depth enough to write a cohesive background. The major event that allowed this vault to continue was discussed with and approved by Sander. If I am asked to edit or change anything, I am more then willing to work within the parameters of this role-play!)
October 23rd, 2077 - Vault 92 closes it’s doors the day of the Great War. Those now dwelling inside have no notion of the events to come save for the original overseer, Richard Rubin.
First Generation Vault Dwellers:
The First Generation of Vault Dwellers had many obstacles to overcome due to the true purpose of the Vault. The inhabitants were subjected to ‘white noise’ or ‘subliminal messaging’ in an attempt to program them into super soldiers who could be controlled through a form of hypnosis. Due to their proclivity to be finely tuned to their instruments, they were the choice candidates for this risky experiment.
Professor Malleus, the lead researcher in the vault thought that these experiments were to test their musical abilities. Over time however the first generation of Vault Dwellers were weeded out into two groups, those who suffered delirium and insanity due to the experimentation, and those who exhibited no effects what-so-ever. The insanity and violence of some of their orchestral friends were passed off as symptoms of radiation poisoning due to faulty water by Richard Rubin, who was loathed to see the experiment terminated despite the dangers it clearly posed. By now, only a few of the researchers working on the project were made aware of the experimentation and were forced into silence by way of the hypnosis. One of these researchers did unfortunately did not take as planned to the experiment and was ‘put down’.
Second Generation Vault Dwellers:
The next generation of Vault Dwellers were led at first by Richard Rubin, and later by his son, Ricky Jr. The experimentation continued and there were mixed effects once again however this time the experiment worked for roughly 20 individuals, all of whom were none the wiser. Once more the ill side-effects of the white noise experiment cropped up though is fewer number than before, only a handful showed signs of violence and rage. They were dealt with once more and the Vault continued.
Third Generation Vault Dwellers:
There was a sudden recurrence in the massive amounts of violence from Vault Dwellers badly affected by the white noise. This time explanations of radiation poisoning and other fruitless lies were not accepted, as two of the descendants of the original assistants (who were then assistants themselves) were not affected at all by the hypnosis and so revealed the secret to others. This started an uprising and eventual revolt against the overseer and his compatriots. Those who were under the suggestion of hypnosis fought on the side of the Overseer against those unaffected. The Dwellers who could not control their violent tendencies attacked any near enough to feel their blows. In the end there was a divide among the survivors - some leaving the vault while others stayed of their own will or were subliminally coerced. Ida’s own parents made it outside the Vault doors, though were brought back inside due to straggling behind and hearing the commands of the current Vault Overseer that everyone was to report back inside immediately.
Fourth Generation Vault Dwellers:
The generation from which Ida hails were born into great civil unrest. Though they attempted to continue with the musical traditions and teachings, it was well known that they were prisoners in their own home, mere lab rats. A second and more bloody and brutal coup was attempted, causing the deaths of the vast majority of the dwellers. Ida left during this strife and if any lived, she knows not if they also escaped or still remain trapped inside of Vault 92.
Ida’s History:
Ida was raised much like many of the other fourth generation Vault children. She started with an instrument of her choosing at the age of three, and was taught to read music as well as words. All of the history that they were taught was shown through the veil of great orchestras and operas, learning of the biographies and accomplishments of famous pre-war composers. They would be given private lessons the recording room where a majority of the intensive white-noise exposure happened.
Music from their fellow musicians would be played over the loud-speaker at most hours of the day and night and for certain celebrations such as New Years they would hold the end of year concert in which everyone participated. Ida was classically trained on viola as her primary, followed by violin and cello, harp, piano, and flute. She also showed an interest in guitar though had no lessons with it and learned by ear.
Her mother was a pianist as her primary, and her father played a sousaphone as his. Ida very much enjoyed her time in the vault though did not get along very well with the majority of her peers. She was not as disciplined as them, unable to easily read music she did not enjoy learning through those means. Ida would listen to others play and then mirror it back by ear, and through lessons she hated to sit still. She had explored most of her vault (including some restricted areas) by the time she was eleven, quickly becoming increasingly curious about the world outside the vault. For a reason nobody could really explain, perhaps an old story she had been told when she was a child or an image the music evoked in her mind, she thought that somewhere in the wasteland there was a beautiful lush green land with pure water and she became obsessed with finding it.
Around her seventeenth birthday tensions between the average dweller and the Overseer and his assistants were reaching the revolt stage once more. There was a year and some months of planning by those who wanted to leave and Ida joined in, not completely aware of the bloodshed that would ensue. During the revolt the doors were opened by one of her fellows and Ida escaped with nothing but her Viola on her back and a small rucksack of provisions including a knife and some food.
Ida was found wandering the wastes alone three days later by a man known to her only as Colter, a hardened wastelander who took some ‘pity’ on the girl, though was more intrigued by her gullible nature that he could take advantage of. He did ensure her survival by teaching her useful skills such as basic medical knowledge, how to make a fire, what she could and couldn’t eat as well as trying to teach her the monetary system of the wastes. Ida stayed with him for four months, all the while heading aimlessly (or so she thought) towards the New York area. Little did she know however that he had made plans with some slavers who were willing to pay more than a ‘pretty penny’ for such a girl as he described Ida to be. When the girl found out his plot she confronted him, blindly believing that once he was made aware of how unhappy and unagreeable that sounded to her he would leave her be however that was not the case.
A scuffle ensued and it became a matter of life or death and she ended up sinking her knife into his throat, an action she has regretted ever since even if it was in self defense. He had helped her through the worst of the wastes, leaving her a rather straight and narrow path to the grand ol’ ‘Empire State’, which took her effectively two more months to arrive there.
It is with a heart full of hope, starry eyes and dreams of a better tomorrow that she finds the budding ruins of the once magnificent New York.
(Have I mentioned that Tunnel Snakes Rule? No? Good. Because they don't. -grumpy tunnel snake sounds in the distance-)
Definition of meta gaming:Meta gaming is the use of information which the player has found out about while not in character (OOC) and are using it while in character. (this includes motives and actions)
Definition of power gaming: Power gaming is when a player forces a move and/or a reaction out of/on another character or situation.
What is your past experience in RP, Fallout or otherwise?: rp games and I was part of a Shadow of Israphel reanactment, I played Skyrim & Fallout 3 and new vegas
IC:
Name: Kay
Age: 18
Appearance: Kay has a regulators trench coat, a PIP Boy, his father gave him, which was his before. He has black hair, he is African American. He has black eyes. And to the naked eye, he looks kind, with his smile. He is a skinny person, he's not very strong, but he is agile and is good with a long range gun, but can also fight with melee or close light close range guns.
Personality: A bright mind tainted by the wasteland,happily cynical, grumpy, and Proud. He never forgets what people do. He is too sided. To people who don't know him, he seems kind and easy to manipulate. But if any thing, he is good at manipulating people. He loves Nuka Cola and snack cakes. He is trying to find something worth fighting for in the Apple or something to invest in. He loves to push people and is quick to anger. Will walk up to the biggest guy and get in to a fight. He is also a little paranoid and sometimes hears thing that arent there. He is willing to do anything to survive. Falls into random flashes of Depression.
Backstory
Kay was born in 2267 in a small town outside of DC with his Father, Mother and his sister Katlin. . The town was a small town and his family owned the general store, where many travellers came to buy and sell guns, foods, and more.
As a child, Kay enjoyed the warmth of the sun and the drink Nuka Cola. It was just so good. He enjoyed listening to stories about the prewar days from his parents and other townsfolk that were passed down from parent to parent. He also enjoyed annoying his sister, claiming "it was his job". He just lived to see how far he could push people before they cracked. He also hung out with the people around town, though most of the time, he was laughed at by the kids for seeing things that weren't there. And his parents thought it was just his imagination
Though he enjoyed his life, his parents were extremely strict. They demanded respect(even if they didn't give any back) and if you didn't give them it you'd be disciplined harshly.
Kay was expected to get up, clean his room, help his father in the shop, polishing the guns and melee weapons. Only then could he play.
It may not have seemed bad but with his mother there, it was terrible. A lot of times, she took out angers from various things on him. If caravans were running late, which they often did, he could bet his mother would be holding him back, critisizing every little thing, calling him names, cussing, breaking things just so he'd have to clean it up and such. He'd be lucky if she would let him go out for more than five minutes before bed and his father wasn't better either. He'd soon grow to hold hard grudges and resent his parents, though he was good at hiding it.
His sister fit like a glove in this, following orders and listening to her parents. Meanwhile, Kay was enraged(privately) and would have rage flashes in private for the rest of his life, where he became extremely angry and was extremely destructive. Voices that didn't have faces would scream around him, kill them, kill them all. He tried to ignore them.
While Kay did listen to his parents, he was subtlily angry. He was passive agressive. After all, he was afraid of his parents and it wasn't like he could just talk to them. What if they abandoned him. What would he do?
A solution finally came at the age of 10 when his father decided it was time to teach him to defend himself. Everyday, before he did his chores, his father taught his hand to hand combat, how to fire a rifle and different fire arms and though those 3 years of training brought him and his father closer, it didn't make the grudges and resentment disappear.
Yet even with the friendship growing it still didn't help much. Kay was skinny and liked guns unlike his father who was bulky and more of Melee person.
By the time Kay was 16, his sister was 24 and lived in the town, though not with her parents and had made money off of the things she scavenged. She was still also working in the shop, and finally in 2283, she decided to help the family by getting an investment from her parents and opening a caravan to sell the items from the shop all over. And on a warm summers day, she set off.
She never returned.
His parents soon found out she'd ran off and abandoned them by the week when a few townsfolk found the caravan which returned with just the mercenaries who'd and were good friends of the family, guarded it and Katlins journal book with a letter, that was left. Inside was one single entry in which Katlin spoke of her plans of abandonment in a form of a letter. She spoke to the mercenaries, telling them to deliever a letter to to her parents. Kay never found out what the letter said and he darent ask. By the next day they were back to normal.
Regardless if what the letter said, Katlin left the family and neither of the parents wanted that to happen again. They made damn sure Kay would not do so.
So for the next two years, They worked him hard, critisized him harder and never let him off of work as if that how they'd get him to stay.
He'd taken Katlin leave hard. Regardless of age, to him, she was the little sister and it was his job to protect her and... He failed.
He couldn't go on living, he was washed with guilt and it was too much. The voices came back, screaming kill yourself, do it.
On his eighteenth birthday, his father father gave him a Regulator trench coat, he'd been sold at the shop, a sniper rifle and a knife. Kay loved it, though he knew it didn't matter.
That say, his mother and father said to him," Life is what you make of it, remember that." It didnt matter much then, but he'd remember that forever. It was strange the way his father was at that movement.
Late in the night, he stood over his desk and looked at the contents. What laid of the table before him was chems all sorts, cocaine, med x, pshyco, jet and more. Hed stolen them from the shop. What did he plan to use them for? Over dose.
His entire life was ridiculed with shame. On one side, a family that abused him on another, the shame of losing his sister. He just couldnt take it.
Suddenly, Kay smell something burning. Turning to the door, he was shocked to see the door, lit on fire as it began to spread through the room. And for the first time in a long time, Kay was afraid of death. the flames roared as they began to engulf the room. If he didnt hurry, he'd die. Grabbing a bag in his room, he threw all of the chems into the bag. He could overdose later, now he had to get out before the flames melted his flesh. He'd been wearing the regulator cloak already. Grabbing his sniper rifle and knife and propeled him, self out of the broken window of his room as the flames ate more of the room.
The house was a prewar house that had been touch up. It was one story so he was fine. Looking at the burning general store and the house, he just looked. he didnt care. Just didnt. The flames flickered as townfolk panicked.
No one knew what caused the fire. but in the ruble, they found the chared bodies of his parents. friends cried. Every one cried.
Except Kay, all he did was smirk.He wasnt mad, sad.( that rhymed ) He just stood there. The fire had snapped him right out of his suicidal state. There wpuld be time to morn for his sister later.
His parents had left him an inhertitance, left with a trusted friend. 200 caps. Taking the caps, he left. For 2 months he walked the wasteland, living off of nuka cola, snack cakes and anything he could find and killing whatevers in his way.It would be injustice to kill himself. To show his parents he was sad. No, he just kept going. He needed to start a new life, a new home. Even with his parents dead, he still would not give them peace. Forgiveness, that wasnt Kay's thinking. Fool his once, shame on you, he's gonna kill you or die trying.
Finally, he came to New york city, the Empire Wasteland. A new home, a new start. Grinning, he remembered what his father said," Life is what you make of it, remember that,"
Oh he would.
"Tunnel Snakes Rule!"
PhD here, let's take a peak at this app...
Appearance. Gives me a much better feel for Kay, problem here is the Pip boy and his combat prowess. We are sticklers for lore here and if he is to have a pip boy given to him from his father we need to know what Vault his father dwelled in and what type of experiments went on in said Vault. Combat prowess. Kay, being 18 would barely be decent at one of those three if anything. Characters on our server aren't meant to be proficient in every form of combat (Granted, the exception goes to if you have been trained your whole life by a big league faction such as the Brotherhood or Enclave) Being trained by his father could make him able to use a gun, granted it would doubtful be to an extent where he could be a sharpshooter. but he would be about as trained as your average modern day hunter. That is to say he could shoot but doubtfully win many gun fights unless he had an obvious advantage. Kay can have a normal trench coat but not a regulators duster, being as the regulators are a faction. Mind you this duster/trench coat will have no defense against bullets, it would be purely cosmetic.
Personality. How is Kay good at manipulating people without ever doing it? Judging from his backstory, Kay had minimal contact with people outside of his town and the people he did meet he didn't really manipulate. Being quick to anger and always getting in fights isn't exactly the best way to survive in the wasteland. Kay was described as a skinny individual, yet he starts fights with the biggest men he can? Starting random fights and being quick to anger seems like it would cause Kay to attack random groups and find himself killed. On the server we really don't want people to randomly kill others characters without good reason.
Backstory. Stories get twisted as time passes. Kay would odds are have a really blurry impression of the pre-war era. This isn't to say it is a bad thing. Could easily have some great character development for Kay to have a really different view of the pre-war world. Being 200 years after the bombs dropped the stories would probably be nowhere near accurate. Voices in his head that tell him to kill people are edgy to say the least. Other users have worked hard to create their characters, randomly killing them for no reason but voices isn't really what we want. How is his father good in hand to hand combat? Being trained in it would mean Kay would be proficient in it, and at age 10 that seems doubtful. This also goes for his ability to use guns. The death of his parents is were the majority of the problems arise. If Kay was already planning to kill himself, why would he run away from the burning house? Not to mention you say he had the intention to overdose later, even though he just said he was afraid of death. Why would Kay smirk about his parents deaths? Even the average sociopath would be scarred by watching his parents burn to death. "killings whatevers in his way" I would hope he didn't find many people. The Capital Wasteland is a dangerous place. Kay would lack proper training realistically and would odds are be killed during his first run in with raiders or Yao Guai. Why would he decide to go to New York when he could just go to another place in Maryland? "he's gonna kill you or die trying" why though? Characters don't need to be killing machines, hell we don't want them to be. Users work hard on creating their characters, it would be horrible to kill them for no reason. I have specified this before, but I feel the need to specify it again. Kay can NOT come to New York with a sniper rifle, knife or 200 caps. Characters are meant to come to New York with nothing but the clothes on their back.
For the following reasons, you have been...
I know we seem harsh, and I hate denying people but we are extremely strict on lore and rules on this server. We look to make a server where no one is a player character, from the games so to speak, but rather your average wastelander. The server may seem strict, but it is only due to us trying to make a lore accurate, realistic wasteland.
Minecraft Username: AFiestyHobo (Yes, misspelled and everything.)
Age: 18
Definition of meta gaming: Meta-gaming is when an individual's character has knowledge of information that has yet to be, or is not mentioned in-game to said character. This often occurs when an individual is told information OOC and they have difficulty keeping what they know out of the mind of their character. This can lead to strategy-building, planning, or other Role-Play activities based upon knowledge that a character does not have.
Definition of power gaming: I have not heard of ‘power-gaming’ though I assume it follows the same definition as something the role-play groups I have been apart of refers to as ‘God-Modding’? (Please feel free to correct me if I am wrong!). This is when a character is given powers, strengths, or weapons that are not suitable to the Lore (characters own and/or rp), Area, or gives them an unrealistically unjust advantage against other players which can provoke conflict. This can also include attacking and injuring anothers character without giving them a chance to respond to said attack.
What is your past experience in RP, Fallout or otherwise?: I am primarily a literary based 1x1 role-player. I began my experiences on ‘Gaia Online’ and was part of multiple roleplay ‘guilds’. I left there a number of years back, after which I was part of a large email-based Fallout (2-3, then another separate New Vegas group) when Ida (my OC) was created (roughly two years ago). During this time I also had a tumblr account where I was part of a Bioshock (1 to infinite) rp group playing the Canon character Atlas.
IC
Name: Ida Berceuse
Age: Born on May 15th 2266. This makes her nineteen-years-of-age.
Appearance:
Hair: Waist-length with some ‘body’ (waves and the occasional curl) dependant upon the weather. The only part of it she has cut are her bangs, which are shorn across her brow in a rather straight fashion. The colour of her hair is stark-white and due to the filthy conditions of the wasteland looks dust/dirty more often than other hues.
Skin: Ida has skin that is so pale it borders on translucent, showing her major veins with ease. This makes her very susceptible to sun poisoning and other skin-related issues.
Eyes: Her eyes are a pale violet color due to her lack of melanin, which causes them to truly be a pale blue colour however due to the blood vessels underneath it appears to be lilac. She also has very poor eyesight because of this, meaning her depth perception and facial recognition are severely compromised.
Height: 5’ 4” or 162.6 cm.
Weight: 120 lbs or 54.43 kg.
Unique Attributes: Miss Berceuse was born with a condition known as Oculocutaneous Albinism One or OCA1, which affects the pigment in her eyes, skin, and hair. Due to a mutation she has no active tyrosine, therefore it cannot produce melanin, which is responsible for colouring the skin, eyes, and hair of individuals. This inhibits her ability to see (go to Eyes for more information) and prohibits her from ‘tanning’, leaving her with no protection to sunburns, including the most extreme version, sun poisoning. Whether this is an inherited genetic condition due to both of her parents being carriers of the recessive gene, or due to a mutation caused by elevated levels of radiation exposure on behalf of both of her parents (See Victor Berceuse or Susan Berceuse for more information) is undetermined.
(Picture WiP)
Clothing:
Ida wears her pale-blue, fairly worn, Vault 92 Suit with the addition of gloves (courtesy of her Mother) and a large white wide-brimmed hat that use to have a black-ribbon bow adorning it. This was worn to concerts in her Vault.
Personality: She is a hopeful, naive person who takes most everyone at face-value. Her compassion for nearly every other living being often makes her appear foolish to other more hardened wastelanders. Though she is credulous, she is not stupid. On the contrary, Ida has a knack for conversing her way out of difficult situations and knows a fair share about pre-war literature thanks to the sophistication and interests of her Vault companions. Miss Berceuse has a strong sense of self-preservation though views harming another person as a last resort at all times.
Backstory:
Ida was born on May 15th, 2266 in the ‘safety’ of Vault 92, to her father Victor Berceuse and mother, Susan Berceuse (maiden name Huges). Like many of the vaults produced by Vault-Tec, this too was an experimental vault hidden under the guise of ‘preserving musical talent’. Classical musicians were invited into this vault, the majority of them being those who had made a name for themselves in the orchestral world. The true intentions of the vault however were far more sinister.
History of Vault 92
(Due to the 100 year duration of Vault 92 canonically, time has been added to better allow my OC to hail from this Vault. There are also some situations that appear here that do not in Fallout 1-New Vegas, due to the day to day life and events of the Vault not being explored in depth enough to write a cohesive background. The major event that allowed this vault to continue was discussed with and approved by Sander. If I am asked to edit or change anything, I am more then willing to work within the parameters of this role-play!)
October 23rd, 2077 - Vault 92 closes it’s doors the day of the Great War. Those now dwelling inside have no notion of the events to come save for the original overseer, Richard Rubin.
First Generation Vault Dwellers:
The First Generation of Vault Dwellers had many obstacles to overcome due to the true purpose of the Vault. The inhabitants were subjected to ‘white noise’ or ‘subliminal messaging’ in an attempt to program them into super soldiers who could be controlled through a form of hypnosis. Due to their proclivity to be finely tuned to their instruments, they were the choice candidates for this risky experiment.
Professor Malleus, the lead researcher in the vault thought that these experiments were to test their musical abilities. Over time however the first generation of Vault Dwellers were weeded out into two groups, those who suffered delirium and insanity due to the experimentation, and those who exhibited no effects what-so-ever. The insanity and violence of some of their orchestral friends were passed off as symptoms of radiation poisoning due to faulty water by Richard Rubin, who was loathed to see the experiment terminated despite the dangers it clearly posed. By now, only a few of the researchers working on the project were made aware of the experimentation and were forced into silence by way of the hypnosis. One of these researchers did unfortunately did not take as planned to the experiment and was ‘put down’.
Second Generation Vault Dwellers:
The next generation of Vault Dwellers were led at first by Richard Rubin, and later by his son, Ricky Jr. The experimentation continued and there were mixed effects once again however this time the experiment worked for roughly 20 individuals, all of whom were none the wiser. Once more the ill side-effects of the white noise experiment cropped up though is fewer number than before, only a handful showed signs of violence and rage. They were dealt with once more and the Vault continued.
Third Generation Vault Dwellers:
There was a sudden recurrence in the massive amounts of violence from Vault Dwellers badly affected by the white noise. This time explanations of radiation poisoning and other fruitless lies were not accepted, as two of the descendants of the original assistants (who were then assistants themselves) were not affected at all by the hypnosis and so revealed the secret to others. This started an uprising and eventual revolt against the overseer and his compatriots. Those who were under the suggestion of hypnosis fought on the side of the Overseer against those unaffected. The Dwellers who could not control their violent tendencies attacked any near enough to feel their blows. In the end there was a divide among the survivors - some leaving the vault while others stayed of their own will or were subliminally coerced. Ida’s own parents made it outside the Vault doors, though were brought back inside due to straggling behind and hearing the commands of the current Vault Overseer that everyone was to report back inside immediately.
Fourth Generation Vault Dwellers:
The generation from which Ida hails were born into great civil unrest. Though they attempted to continue with the musical traditions and teachings, it was well known that they were prisoners in their own home, mere lab rats. A second and more bloody and brutal coup was attempted, causing the deaths of the vast majority of the dwellers. Ida left during this strife and if any lived, she knows not if they also escaped or still remain trapped inside of Vault 92.
Ida’s History:
Ida was raised much like many of the other fourth generation Vault children. She started with an instrument of her choosing at the age of three, and was taught to read music as well as words. All of the history that they were taught was shown through the veil of great orchestras and operas, learning of the biographies and accomplishments of famous pre-war composers. They would be given private lessons the recording room where a majority of the intensive white-noise exposure happened.
Music from their fellow musicians would be played over the loud-speaker at most hours of the day and night and for certain celebrations such as New Years they would hold the end of year concert in which everyone participated. Ida was classically trained on viola as her primary, followed by violin and cello, harp, piano, and flute. She also showed an interest in guitar though had no lessons with it and learned by ear.
Her mother was a pianist as her primary, and her father played a sousaphone as his. Ida very much enjoyed her time in the vault though did not get along very well with the majority of her peers. She was not as disciplined as them, unable to easily read music she did not enjoy learning through those means. Ida would listen to others play and then mirror it back by ear, and through lessons she hated to sit still. She had explored most of her vault (including some restricted areas) by the time she was eleven, quickly becoming increasingly curious about the world outside the vault. For a reason nobody could really explain, perhaps an old story she had been told when she was a child or an image the music evoked in her mind, she thought that somewhere in the wasteland there was a beautiful lush green land with pure water and she became obsessed with finding it.
Around her seventeenth birthday tensions between the average dweller and the Overseer and his assistants were reaching the revolt stage once more. There was a year and some months of planning by those who wanted to leave and Ida joined in, not completely aware of the bloodshed that would ensue. During the revolt the doors were opened by one of her fellows and Ida escaped with nothing but her Viola on her back and a small rucksack of provisions including a knife and some food.
Ida was found wandering the wastes alone three days later by a man known to her only as Colter, a hardened wastelander who took some ‘pity’ on the girl, though was more intrigued by her gullible nature that he could take advantage of. He did ensure her survival by teaching her useful skills such as basic medical knowledge, how to make a fire, what she could and couldn’t eat as well as trying to teach her the monetary system of the wastes. Ida stayed with him for four months, all the while heading aimlessly (or so she thought) towards the New York area. Little did she know however that he had made plans with some slavers who were willing to pay more than a ‘pretty penny’ for such a girl as he described Ida to be. When the girl found out his plot she confronted him, blindly believing that once he was made aware of how unhappy and unagreeable that sounded to her he would leave her be however that was not the case.
A scuffle ensued and it became a matter of life or death and she ended up sinking her knife into his throat, an action she has regretted ever since even if it was in self defense. He had helped her through the worst of the wastes, leaving her a rather straight and narrow path to the grand ol’ ‘Empire State’, which took her effectively two more months to arrive there.
It is with a heart full of hope, starry eyes and dreams of a better tomorrow that she finds the budding ruins of the once magnificent New York.
(Have I mentioned that Tunnel Snakes Rule? No? Good. Because they don't. -grumpy tunnel snake sounds in the distance-)
And I'm back in. Let's review this here app,eh?
Appearance. Love the detail here. Especially how it shows how you will be effected by the sun, being albino and all that shenans.
Backstory. As if this app couldn't get any better. I love the way you included the history of the Vault and how it smoothly transitions into her parents story and then Idas. It is also nice to see more characters with a regret for killing. Only problem I can see is that little knife. Now I know users can't carry around large weapons and firearms onto the server, I am unsure on how small knifes and the like are felt about. I would say don't plan on starting with it for now, but you never know if users will be allowed small knifes and the like at a later date.
My biggest problem with the app is your lack of respect for our Tunnel Snake overlords. Who else would gift us such a bountiful life if not for them? Hmm? Make sure you praise them properly.
But I sadly can not deny an app due to the applicants lack of respect for their overlords, so it seems I must deem this application...
Definition of meta gaming: Using knowledge or out of character communication to succeed in RP. If my friend messaged me on skype to report the movements of an enemy but we had no way of communicating in character
Definition of power gaming: "Um, my character is a fallen angel with telepathic abilities. Of course he can dodge bullets, duh!"
What is your past experience in RP, Fallout or otherwise?: Played New Vegas for an embarrassing amount of time. Ran two MC RP servers and played on countless Terraria RP servers
IC:
Name: Nero (Born Walks-In-Fire)
Age: 30
Appearance: Nero may only be thirty but he is weathered beyond recognition. Much of his hair has become grey and countless scars, large and small, dot his face. He dresses as an average wastelander, concealing his face to hide his identity and shield his skin from dust and heat. He is a tall man with long arms, dark brown hair, and recently, a ragged beard.
Personality: Nero is reserved and calculating. The teachings of the Legion have made him resilient and determined but also savage and capable of extreme violence to achieve his aims. He doesn't enjoy pain or violence but he doesn't avert himself from it if need be. Since the fall of the Legion, he feels lost and useless.
Backstory: Walks-In-Fire was born into a wasteland tribe in southern Idaho called the Windcallers. They were proud warriors and for that, they attracted the attention of Caesar's Legion. They were defeated in combat but they fought hard and slayed some of the Legion's most talented killers. Caesar killed the few men who didn't want to join his army, brainwashed those who did, took the women as slaves, trained the boys as legionaries, and crucified the Windcaller men who willingly surrendered or were weak/injured. Walks-In-Fire was a boy and therefore was easy to morph into a legionary. Stripped of all his tribal and independent attributes, he was given the Legion name of "Nero."
Nero was shown to be a talented scout; fleet of foot and capable of hiding from the best trackers and dogs the Legion had. Caesar himself wanted the boy, only 13, to become a member of the Frumentari, the Legion's vast network of spies and scouts. Nero spent the next decade spying on the New California Republic, finding new tribes for the Legion to conquer, and secretly killing Caesar's enemies. But something happened that drove Nero to the far east. Some say that the Legion was crushed by the New California Republic and humiliated. Others heard that Caesar had died and was replaced by a brutal commander who knew nothing about running the Legion aside from fear and savagery. Some whisper of an army of machines defending the mythical city of Vegas who destroyed the Legion and claimed the Mojave. It's not clear and Nero will never speak of it but one thing is known, there was nothing left in the Legion for him.
So now, Nero has walked for hundreds of miles, searching for a purpose for his talents. Perhaps, the Big Apple offers such an opportunity.
Definition of meta gaming: Knowing something out of character and applying that knowledge in character. Knowing something your character could not possibly know.
Definition of power gaming: Forcing your actions to happen, and denying other players their emotes from occurring, even if its extremely unlikely they will succeed. Forcing your actions on other characters. Example: Manny StrongBad jumps down and shoots all the raiders in the head and kills them instantly without fail or messing up.
What is your past experience in RP, Fallout or otherwise?: I have spent about
IC:
Name: Teleia Index
Age: 23
Appearance: Teleia Index is a 23 year old female, with a small frame and a height of 5'6". She weighs 120 pounds, and is malnutritioned. Her skin (when clean) is a pasty pale white. Her hair is brown, and goes down to her neck, although its usually tied back with twine into a sloppy bun. Her eyes are a shocking watery blue color. She has a large scar across her face, along with several long scars down her back from multiple whippings and punishments. Her nose is slightly crooked from having it broken and it not setting correctly. She has a metal stud in each earlobe. She wears a tealish colored turtleneck shirt and a scarf, made of her old rags that were used as clothing. She has a set of shackles around her wrists and one around her neck, hidden behind the turtleneck and scarf.
Personality: Gets thrown into a rage when encountering a slaver (Or someone along these lines). SHe’s very untrusting of strangers, and has a hard time making friends. Once she’s made a friend, she opens up to them completely. Otherwise, shes generally shut in to herself.
Backstory: Teleia Index was a simple tribeswoman in the Xidkoh tribe located somewhere near Denver in Legion territory. She was 17 at the time, a carefree teenager, who’s only real responsibility was to play and have fun. Life was pretty much perfect for Teleia, she had a sister named Carol, and tons of friends. Of course, living in legion territory had its risks, and one day these game to fruition. It happened around 6:30 PM, when the village was settling down for the night, when in over the hill, a large group of Legionnaires, armed to the teeth, came marching into her village. They rounded up the entire village in a short period of time, (With the exception of the hunting party that was out) and set them in one big group. They singled out the men into a separate crowd and covered them in a storm of lead, leaving all of them to fall down dead in the dirt. A few stray bullets landed in the group of to be slaves, and cries of agony and grief rang out, among them was Teleias sister, screaming in pain. Teleia dashed towards her fallen sibling and got down on her knees beside her. She had been shot in the arm, a non fatal injury, but the bullets seemed like something out of science fiction to them, and the type of wound seemed new and strange. Teleia’s eyes filled with tears as her sister spoke to her in their common tongue, “Teleia.... I’m not dead… Be brave... Fight back!“ She whispered harshly, as the soldiers marched forward, caroling the village forward. One of the Leggioners sees Teleia on the ground next to Carol, and walks over angrily. He yells at both of them in english, and strikes at Teleia with his homemade machete. Although he had severely misjudged how close Teleia was, she still received a very nasty gash across her face. Teleia screamed in pain, her hands flying up to her face, as blood seeped around her eyes and stung at them. Carol gasps and goes to stragle to her feet and take Teleia up as well, understanding that being down would most likely result in their death at the least. She had a cloth wrapped diagonally around her head to match the gap that would never heal properly, and leave behind a nasty looking scar. This act would be something the legionnaires would never forget in all 4 and a half years of Teleias time in their slave camp, whipping her unnecessarily, taking their aggression out on her (Along with a few others) and generally being a complete ass to her. Her normal clothing that she had worn in the tribe had been torn from her, and replaced with what could have been a large rag. Her once cheerful life had turned into a living hell.
But, this was not the end of Teleias story. A couple of years later in her capture. 6 years to be exact, the legion was moving the camp Teleia was in farther into legion territory. This would most likely be Teleias best chance to escape, and her only one at that. Once night had fallen, she tripped and fell into a ditch, playing dead. At this point, the slaves were pretty much dropping like she was, only not alive. Fortunately, she had managed to sneak away with more food than most of the slaves, stealing it whenever she could from whoever she could. It was her sister's advice. “Take care of yourself, and only yourself… Otherwise you’ll die.” She said to her one evening. Teleia practically lived by this motto now, only sharing her stash with Carol, and often times she paid for it. Upon a random slave confirming her “Death” by kicking her and Teleia not responding. After the large group had left her behind, she got up and stumbled back towards where they had come from, back towards where her village was. She had kept track of where her villages general direction was by making arrows in the dirt.
After about a days worth of travel, she finds the remains of what used to be her village. The huts and shacks have been razed to the ground, and every valuable looted. Teleia falls to her knees after searching the last burnt out building, placing her hands to her face and sobbing. She cries for a solid hour, before someone taps her shoulder, startling her and making her sprawl forward in surprise. Upon turning around, she sees a group of people in midwest power armor, staring down at her. She quivers in fear upon seeing the heavily armored and oddly helmeted people, pushing away and shaking her head. One of them approaches her and crouches down, speaking to her in a gentle manner, “Hello there… You seem lost. In more ways than one. Would you mind if we helped you?” The man under the helmet said. Teleia, having learned some of the very basics of the english language, speaks back, “Teleia… Teleia hungry… And scared.” She murmurs back. The man nods his head, motioning for one of the other armored people behind him. One walks forward with a sack, setting it on the ground for Teleia, who cautiously opens it up to find it full of food. She immediately takes some of the parcels out and begins to gorge herself frantically. The armored men chuckle faintly and the man in front of her stands up, “Nice to meet you… Teleia was it? I’m sorry to say this, but we have to move on out. Theres a caravan coming along soon on its way to the east. Get a job from them, I’m sure they’ll let you tag along.” He says, before turning around with the rest of his group and walking off. Teleia just sits there and munches away, watching them leave silently.
After a good four hours of waiting, said caravan makes an appearance, walking a long train of brahim carrying supplies. With them is a couple of people, well armed and armored for their trip. Teleia stands up and waves at them, drawing them over. The leader of the caravan approaches her and says, “Hi there, looking for some supplies?” He asks. Teleia looks confused for a second before saying, “Metal men say that Teleia able to get job for food with caravan. Can Teleia do that?” She asks, seeming somewhat wary of the person before her. The caravan leader looks down at her with his somewhat hardened brown eyes and grins, “But of course! We could always use some new help around here. You’ll be able to work for food and eventually get some better clothes.” He says, before going back to his group and showing her around. She nods faintly, slowly taking in what her life was going to be like for about half a year.
They daisy chained across the country, going from city to city eastward bound and eventually coming across the big apple. At this point, Teleia had lost her caravan in an unfortunate series of events of being lost and not at all being prepared for the sprawling city landscape of New York. Shes left to fend for herself in the Big Apple, with nothing more than a knife, some food and her scared self.
Tunnel Snakes Rule!
It looks like you've improved her backstory and such a lot. I'm glad to say that your character is now...
Well since I haven't received a reply I thought I would just start from scratch and try a new character.
OOC:
Minecraft Username: Josh_Changeling
Age:21
Definition of meta gaming: To assume one knows info and law instead of considering what exactly your character would know in this world. To meta play involves two base actions. First to assume your character knows what you know instead of finding out for himself. Your character does not know who the Brotherhood is or Ghouls unless it fits with their backstory and should act accordingly when discovering both. Second is to use more gameplay knowledge such as seeing name tags though walls or item locations to benefit your play style.
Definition of power gaming: To either push an action or to attempt an act one can not realistically accomplish. A power gamer has a clear goal or objective and does whatever they can to achieve said goal regardless of story or character. One must let the story morph the character not the other way around.
What is your past experience in RP, Fallout or otherwise?: I've spent the last three years on forums, Skype and a MLP rp sever. To be more accurate I have done short, medium and long term rp from a wide range of canons although I have only done fallout based rps I have played ALL fallout games EVEN the crappy xbox game from start to finish, read the lore over and over even loving the cut lore from the cancelled fallout 3 so I have a ton of experience in fallout itself.
IC:
Name: Jacob Smith
Age: 24
Appearance: Male, short brown hair, tanned skin, thin lean frame, emerald eyes, roundish nose with a thin face.
Personality: Critical, self centred, a bit egotistic but that furthers his morality. He likes to see himself as a good person and as such, tries to BE a good person. Despite this he is often questioning of others motives and goals often wondering what doing an act for another may benefit him, though this is often the case with goals for convenience or basic assistance. When it comes to more aggressive, flat out dangerous situations he often can't help but to get himself involved, if somewhat reluctantly. He has a good heart even if he tries everything in his power to push that side of him away, probably coming from his background were having soft feelings can be the single cause of financial disaster.
Backstory: Jacob grew up out north in Enclave territory in one of it's protected settlements, a sort of "middle class" to the well off Enclave members and the rejected wastelanders living in their own filth. His life was pretty basic from the get go, growing up in a three sibling family with a mother as a teacher and a farther as a Enclave employed enforcer,although he removed himself from the family when Jacob was about fifteen. Originally, Jacob found great interest in history and wished to join the Enclave as either a historian or a soldier though sadly due to his position Jacob would have to do something quite impressive in order to even be up for acceptance and as such eased into a trader position after a short part time job with a caravaner assisting with scavenging. Jacob eventually put up shop himself as a sort of nick nack vendor since the Enclave pretty much kept the area relatively mutant free but naturally plundered anything of military value leaving behind toys, board games, Nuka Cola and other do dads which he could swipe up and sell.
Jacob's business grew once he began trading with people outside the Enclave's protection hiring a guard as well as employing some underpaid wastelanders as scavengers. Ultimately, his short term success got him an invitation to a united financial expedition. Many people knew that since the Enclaves defeat out East the Brotherhood had been expanding and as such, often found themselves either too stretched or advancing too quick to properly pillage potential loot leaving it open to scavengers and since they could identify objects people of the Capital Wasteland might see as nothing more then junk, a number of traders got together and suggested pooling their resources for a expedition, loot what they could and return to make a killer profit ESPECIALLY if they managed to get their hands on any energy weapons or civilian issue power armor which the Enclave paid huge bucks for. Many felt the venture to dangerous but considering Jacob had never experienced true danger he believed this as a opportunity both to get recognized by the Enclav, potentially following his original career goal and to make a ton of cash too.
The expedition did not go well. Originally there was twenty guards and five traders including Jacob along with pack Brahmin carrying supplies. Raiders picked off four guards, a ghoul charge when they moved a little too close to a rather glowy town took out another six. In the end everything stopped when unknown attackers hit at night when most of them were asleep in a farmhouse. Jacob has no idea who attacked and in fact has little idea what even happened only that there was a lot of fire and these unknown foes entered the building for bloody hand to hand combat. Terrified out of his mind he simply ran out the back door being shot at twice before making it into the dessert. It wasn't long before what little supplies he had on him dried up, not to mention he didn't have any weapon so naturally he found himself drawn to the closest city he could find in the unlikely possibility of finding other people or just to get food, water and something to protect himself with, hence how he wondered into the Big Apple.
Jacob himself is basically looking to survive now, still shooken up by the whole experience. His ultimate goal would be to return back home but considering the disaster last time and the amount of supplies and manpower that took it's unlikely that's going to happen any time soon and as such would be attempting to find protection plus a living anyway he can whether as a scavenger, a farmer or even as a rather pathetic gun for hire.
Just wanted to point out some stuff I wasn't clear about. After all, I was in a rush
I miscalcuted age again!
Just to explain the contradictory personality stuff, I said he is two sided.
but the rest is....is a mess,
OOC: Breanna
Minecraft Username: breannasarousrex
Age: 19
Definition of meta gaming: Using knowledge you found that you've come across out of character in roleplay, when you couldn'r possibly have known said information.
Definition of power gaming: Is the goal of maximizing progress towards a specific goal. Or in some cases forcing actions onto others without giving an opportunity towards a counter-action.
What is your past experience in RP, Fallout or otherwise rp: I was previously staff on Fallout Wasteland Legends but quit due to the lack of interesting events on the server. I've also played Fallout 3 and a little bit of Fallout: New Vegas.
IC:
Name: Kassandra (AKA Kass)
Age: 27
Appearance: Underneath Kass's dark hood lies a beautiful face with haunted blue/green eyes.Her body, a tall, curvy figure, hidden by heavy clothing, is severely scarred yet still hold the grace and elegance from her once glamorous past. Her hair is auburn cut ragged by that of a dull blade. She has a limp leg that drags with her. While she has been traveling in the sun for awhile, but her skin is still pale and delicate.
Personality: Kassandra is very cautious, her past has left her unsure of any other human beings. She was once a very open flirty girl but her dark past twisted her veiw on mankind. Kassandra is not easily befriended. Her mood tends to sway fairly easily, which affects what her moral disposition is on a subject at any moment. She can feel a great desire to help people one moment, but then burn them to ashes the next.
Backstory: Kassandra was once apart of a vault who's number was long forgotten, her time in the vault was short lived, for ten minutes after she and her twin sister were born, a third, unrelated child entered the world. Due to the capacity of the vault having reached the point of overloading, this newest baby was placed outside the vault. The cry of this outcast baby alerted a nearby raider group who came to investigate the stressed sound. The raiders noticed the vault was not properly sealed and they quickly went inside and murdered everyone excluding children under the ages of 5. Kassandra and her twin were both taken by separate women and a few weeks later Kassandras adoptive mother realized the raider life was not for her and left with the tiny infant, separating her sister, Diane, from her life. Now for quite sometime the mother and daughter lived peacefully until sickness struck the beautifull loving mother. Her mother not wanting to leave her beloved without truth told her everything and that her sister, Diane Reckless, lived on. A few hours after she gave the information Kassandra buried her mother, her heart filled with anger, sadness, and grief. Even though her adopted mother kidnapped her she still felt the love for her for she was the only mother she had known. So kassandra traveled searching for her sister whose name was widely spread throughout the wasteland due to her trading posts. Eventually she met a woman named Ana whom she fell in love with. They searched together for some time until they came up blank. Kassandra decided to start a new life with Ana. With The help of Ana's kind brother they successfully impregnated Kass. When Kass was eight months pregnant they got word of Diane. They set out but the stressful trip made Kass go into labor in the middle of nowhere. She delivered the small crying boy who, just like she had, alerted nearby raiders. The raiders took the child and two women as captives, Kass was to nurse her child who was to be the head raiders wifes child due to her own child passing. Ana was abused by the men, and once Kass had weaned her son she was casted out and also abused. Ana saved her by distracting the men withan outbreak of violence as Kass escaped. She ran but not before hearing Ana's scream abruptly cut off. The only assumtion Kass could make was that they killed her. She knew her son was in good hands and she quickly fled to a town called Vardale where she stumbled upon her sister, Diane. She soon became acquainted with her life in Vardale, gaining access to her own mansion and an immense amount of wealth, and met a women named Erika whom she began a relationship with. Erika took good care of her and they became extremely close. Due to the amount of crime that had currently taken a hold of the nearby city of Lansing, Kass and Erika decided to become vigilantes. During a fight with an oversized, haywire robot, however, she was badly injured and came near to death, but became paralyzed from the waist down. Erika's medical expertise and help from some of her highly-intelligent associates allowed Kass to eventually gain use of her right leg after a year of procedures and physical therapy. Not too long after these events took place, Kass came across a newcomer to the city: a strange woman named Jaq. After a few encounters and conversations, it became apparent that these two could easily help each other out, and become decent friends in the process. One day, Kass came across information about her partner's previous and deep relationship with a man named Matt, who died after an intense confrontation with local, highly skilled hooligans. The jealousy that Kass now felt made it hard for her to love her mate as she once did. Weeks passed, and Kass grew more and more bored with the city and its inhabitants around her. One day, she caught wind that her friend, Jaq, had plans of leaving the city behind. Because Jaq was among the few people that Kass trusted, and they shared a mutual desire to find new sights, the two set off on an adventure, not knowing exactly where it might lead them...
Tunnel snakes rule~!
May I inquire whether or not I was accepted?
OOC:
Minecraft Username: tjt810
Age: 17
Definition of meta gaming: Knowing something out of character and applying that knowledge in character. Knowing something your character could not possibly know.
Definition of power gaming: Forcing your actions to happen, and denying other players their emotes from occurring, even if its extremely unlikely they will succeed. Forcing your actions on other characters. Example: Manny StrongBad jumps down and shoots all the raiders in the head and kills them instantly without fail or messing up.
What is your past experience in RP, Fallout or otherwise?: I have spent about
IC:
Name: Teleia Index
Age: 23
Appearance: Teleia Index is a 23 year old female, with a small frame and a height of 5'6". She weighs 120 pounds, and is malnutritioned. Her skin (when clean) is a pasty pale white. Her hair is brown, and goes down to her neck, although its usually tied back with twine into a sloppy bun. Her eyes are a shocking watery blue color. She has a large scar across her face, along with several long scars down her back from multiple whippings and punishments. Her nose is slightly crooked from having it broken and it not setting correctly. She has a metal stud in each earlobe. She wears a tealish colored turtleneck shirt and a scarf, made of her old rags that were used as clothing. She has a set of shackles around her wrists and one around her neck, hidden behind the turtleneck and scarf.
Personality: Gets thrown into a rage when encountering a slaver (Or someone along these lines). SHe’s very untrusting of strangers, and has a hard time making friends. Once she’s made a friend, she opens up to them completely. Otherwise, shes generally shut in to herself.
Backstory: Teleia Index was a simple tribeswoman in the Xidkoh tribe located somewhere near Denver in Legion territory. She was 17 at the time, a carefree teenager, who’s only real responsibility was to play and have fun. Life was pretty much perfect for Teleia, she had a sister named Carol, and tons of friends. Of course, living in legion territory had its risks, and one day these game to fruition. It happened around 6:30 PM, when the village was settling down for the night, when in over the hill, a large group of Legionnaires, armed to the teeth, came marching into her village. They rounded up the entire village in a short period of time, (With the exception of the hunting party that was out) and set them in one big group. They singled out the men into a separate crowd and covered them in a storm of lead, leaving all of them to fall down dead in the dirt. A few stray bullets landed in the group of to be slaves, and cries of agony and grief rang out, among them was Teleias sister, screaming in pain. Teleia dashed towards her fallen sibling and got down on her knees beside her. She had been shot in the arm, a non fatal injury, but the bullets seemed like something out of science fiction to them, and the type of wound seemed new and strange. Teleia’s eyes filled with tears as her sister spoke to her in their common tongue, “Teleia.... I’m not dead… Be brave... Fight back!“ She whispered harshly, as the soldiers marched forward, caroling the village forward. One of the Leggioners sees Teleia on the ground next to Carol, and walks over angrily. He yells at both of them in english, and strikes at Teleia with his homemade machete. Although he had severely misjudged how close Teleia was, she still received a very nasty gash across her face. Teleia screamed in pain, her hands flying up to her face, as blood seeped around her eyes and stung at them. Carol gasps and goes to stragle to her feet and take Teleia up as well, understanding that being down would most likely result in their death at the least. She had a cloth wrapped diagonally around her head to match the gap that would never heal properly, and leave behind a nasty looking scar. This act would be something the legionnaires would never forget in all 4 and a half years of Teleias time in their slave camp, whipping her unnecessarily, taking their aggression out on her (Along with a few others) and generally being a complete ass to her. Her normal clothing that she had worn in the tribe had been torn from her, and replaced with what could have been a large rag. Her once cheerful life had turned into a living hell.
But, this was not the end of Teleias story. A couple of years later in her capture. 6 years to be exact, the legion was moving the camp Teleia was in farther into legion territory. This would most likely be Teleias best chance to escape, and her only one at that. Once night had fallen, she tripped and fell into a ditch, playing dead. At this point, the slaves were pretty much dropping like she was, only not alive. Fortunately, she had managed to sneak away with more food than most of the slaves, stealing it whenever she could from whoever she could. It was her sister's advice. “Take care of yourself, and only yourself… Otherwise you’ll die.” She said to her one evening. Teleia practically lived by this motto now, only sharing her stash with Carol, and often times she paid for it. Upon a random slave confirming her “Death” by kicking her and Teleia not responding. After the large group had left her behind, she got up and stumbled back towards where they had come from, back towards where her village was. She had kept track of where her villages general direction was by making arrows in the dirt.
After about a days worth of travel, she finds the remains of what used to be her village. The huts and shacks have been razed to the ground, and every valuable looted. Teleia falls to her knees after searching the last burnt out building, placing her hands to her face and sobbing. She cries for a solid hour, before someone taps her shoulder, startling her and making her sprawl forward in surprise. Upon turning around, she sees a group of people in midwest power armor, staring down at her. She quivers in fear upon seeing the heavily armored and oddly helmeted people, pushing away and shaking her head. One of them approaches her and crouches down, speaking to her in a gentle manner, “Hello there… You seem lost. In more ways than one. Would you mind if we helped you?” The man under the helmet said. Teleia, having learned some of the very basics of the english language, speaks back, “Teleia… Teleia hungry… And scared.” She murmurs back. The man nods his head, motioning for one of the other armored people behind him. One walks forward with a sack, setting it on the ground for Teleia, who cautiously opens it up to find it full of food. She immediately takes some of the parcels out and begins to gorge herself frantically. The armored men chuckle faintly and the man in front of her stands up, “Nice to meet you… Teleia was it? I’m sorry to say this, but we have to move on out. Theres a caravan coming along soon on its way to the east. Get a job from them, I’m sure they’ll let you tag along.” He says, before turning around with the rest of his group and walking off. Teleia just sits there and munches away, watching them leave silently.
After a good four hours of waiting, said caravan makes an appearance, walking a long train of brahim carrying supplies. With them is a couple of people, well armed and armored for their trip. Teleia stands up and waves at them, drawing them over. The leader of the caravan approaches her and says, “Hi there, looking for some supplies?” He asks. Teleia looks confused for a second before saying, “Metal men say that Teleia able to get job for food with caravan. Can Teleia do that?” She asks, seeming somewhat wary of the person before her. The caravan leader looks down at her with his somewhat hardened brown eyes and grins, “But of course! We could always use some new help around here. You’ll be able to work for food and eventually get some better clothes.” He says, before going back to his group and showing her around. She nods faintly, slowly taking in what her life was going to be like for about half a year.
They daisy chained across the country, going from city to city eastward bound and eventually coming across the big apple. At this point, Teleia had lost her caravan in an unfortunate series of events of being lost and not at all being prepared for the sprawling city landscape of New York. Shes left to fend for herself in the Big Apple, with nothing more than a knife, some food and her scared self.
Tunnel Snakes Rule!
Already an important member of our staff, and you've kept in contact with me regarding your character. Approved.
Your present app has yet to be reviewed, you fate shall be delivered soon enough.
@Breannasaurous
"With The help of Ana's kind brother they successfully impregnated Kass... exactly where it might lead them."
I was with you up until this point. This section smacks of RP you've done in the past with this character, which I fully support, however you're going to need to strip several parts from your backstory ranging from towns which don't appear in our canon to her sudden, immense gain of wealth. Your backstory also raises several questions which aren't answered, the first of which is why she can't find a sister whose name is spread across the waste. I'd love to see a reworked version of this which is a little more conservative and is more in line with the details of a character who would just be starting out, and how she wound up in New York I'm going to turn you down, but you're welcome to revise and reapply, and I'm sorry it took so long for us to get back to you.
@worldhero
We're not huge fans of dead parent backstories, and yours raises some questions in particular. How was his mother exposed to that amount of radiation in a vault?
What experiments do you refer to?
How do you plan to have a character survive in the harsh wasteland of New York with dementia and a vulnerability to the sun?
What is the point of including the crazy plan when the vault was just opened?
New Jersey is underwater, we'd prefer if you picked an unspecified vault outside of New York to have him emerge from.
We want more of what your character's motivations and what has made him what he is in your backstory, rather than a jumble of attributes. It's an interesting character, please re-write some of those details and resubmit.
Might as well begin with a new char then! c:
OOC: Breanna
Minecraft Username: breannasarousrex
Age: 19
Definition of meta gaming: Using knowledge you found that you've come across out of character in roleplay, when you couldn't possibly have known said information.
Definition of power gaming: Is the goal of maximizing progress towards a specific goal. Or in some cases forcing actions onto others without giving an opportunity towards a counter-action.
What is your past experience in RP, Fallout or otherwise rp: I was previously staff on Fallout Wasteland Legends but quit due to the lack of interesting events on the server. I've also played Fallout 3 and a little bit of Fallout: New Vegas.
IC:
Name: Jade
Age:20
Appearance: Jade has an hourglass figure, standing at approximately 5'10". Her long hair is pale blonde, bleached by hours in the sun, yet her complexion retains a pale tone. One of her most prominent feature are her eyes, deep, wide and bright green. The clothing on her back has obviously seen several previous owners, consisting of a pale-blue, tattered long-sleeved tee which once advertised something that is most likely as long-gone from history as the logo is undiscernible, over her shirt she wears a dusty once handsome leather jacket. Her jeans are worn with age and wear, covered in holes. strapped across her chest a ragged messenger bag hangs. The most pristine part of her outfit would be a dusty pair of leather sandals she recently found in an old, ruined shop.
Personality: Jade is a very soft-spoken and gentle soul, and can be very indecisive about major decisions, tending to overthink them most of the time. When it comes to dealing with others, she is an easily trusting person and is willing to give anyone a chance, no matter what she may been told about them.
Backstory:
Jade woke up to the startling scream of a woman near by, heart racing she peered through the wooden planks of her makeshift shelter. The scene before her made her stomach drop and for a second she was frozen in fear. Raiders had entered the small camp and were destroying everything. She quickly awoke her aunt who had acted as her mother for the last 17 years as her mother had decided she didn't want the responsibility of a child and her father had never been in the picture. "Deena, wake up, there's raiders" she quickly muttered shaking her ragged Aunt. Her aunt was a woman you could tell was one beautiful and full of grace, she had bright blue eyes strawberry blonde hair and under those now sunken tired eyes there had been a beautiful youthful woman. They were lucky the raiders hadnt reached her shelter for it was slightly farther away from the rest of the camp due to her Aunt antisocial personality. Jade had always wondered about her aunts past but never questioned for the one time she had her aunt had become unresponsive and her eyes welled with tears of pain. While Jade had always been annoyed with being a bit farther from camp she was grateful at this time. "No time to pack" her aunt muttered as she grabbed the emergency pack that Jade had never really given a second thought until now. Her aunt started crawling out the narrow opening in the pack and Jade followed suite only to be yanked back roughly by her hair. She let out a strangled cry and started to struggle against the raiders big brawny hands. "Look what we have here" He chuckled as he stroked her hair. "Better not let something this pretty go to wa-" His words cut off and blood unexpectedly pour from his neck. Stunned, Jade watched the body fall only to see her aunt behind him. She quickly yanked the knife out of the back of the fallen mans neck. "What are you standing their for? Let's get out of here." she muttered as she step over the raider who was still struggling for life. Jade could only nod for she was at a loss for words, her eyes fixated on the dying raider.Jade kneeled down and grabbed the knife that had been in the tight gasp of his hand. In doing this she looked into his eyes which pleaded for help and were filled with pain. Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth and she felt a deep guilt. She took the tip of the blade and pushed it into his chest in the approximate location of where his heart would be. His body shuttered out one last breath that caused blood to spray her face from his neck. Her head snapped up as she heard raiders heading in her direction. Leaving the knife in his chest she fled, catching up to her Aunt whom was a few meters ahead. "Lets move" she said grabbing her aunts small delicate wrist.
They ran for what felt like hours, until finally coming to a stop somewhere in the midst of ruins. Jade sat down on a large piece of concrete and started to pick a few goatheads out of her feet. "Where are we going?" She asked without looking up at her aunt. "You're going to stay here. I know where we are, I know people nearby. I'm going to go find them but you have to stay here." her aunt said and tossed down the bag she had snatched from their shelter earlier. Jade nodded and fiddled with the strap of the bag. "Jade, I love you." Her aunt said as she pulled a small pendant off from around her neck. She placed it in the palm of Jades hand. Jade fiddled with the smooth piece of green stone, it had been her mothers. She looked up at her unsure of why she would give this to her. "I'll see you soon." Her aunt said as she turned and walked through the dust ruins.
She sat there for hours, those hours tuned into days, and eventually she had been there for a week. Her Aunt could be anywhere by now and it was clear that she wasn't going to return. Jade brushed of the thought that someone might have killed her.On that seventh day she picked up her backpack still heavy with food and water it contained and she started walking. She didn't stop walking, never speaking to people or responding to anyone she walked, scavenging for food here and there and then continuing. One day she over heard men talking about something called the big apple and it captured her attention for she had been born there yet had not given it a second thought until now. what if her mother still lived there? Even if she didn't it was worth a shot to head there right? With nothing left to loose she headed onward towards the big apple. She new she was near for she could see the buildings towering in the distance. This was it, she was entering the big apple.
(I will sketch a better picture later this is just to give a general idea for the time being)
@Breannasaurous
I appreciate you giving this another try. The quality here is much higher than your previous attempt. What we're looking for in a backstory is information from the character's past which reveals details on how the character responds to various situations. If this were the backstory for the aunt you mention, it would make a lot more sense. If you could make it a little more of an oversight of what has happened so far in you character's life, and the decisions she's made rather than one specific situation I don't see any reason why I couldn't approve you. Some questions you might want to answer are where she came from, her strategies for overcoming conflict (not necessarily combat), and what her plans are for her future.
It excites me that this server is rather difficult to get into. It's promising.
OOC: Breanna
Minecraft Username: breannasarousrex
Age: 19
Definition of meta gaming: Using knowledge you found that you've come across out of character in roleplay, when you couldn't possibly have known said information.
Definition of power gaming: Is the goal of maximizing progress towards a specific goal. Or in some cases forcing actions onto others without giving an opportunity towards a counter-action.
What is your past experience in RP, Fallout or otherwise rp: I was previously staff on Fallout Wasteland Legends but quit due to the lack of interesting events on the server. I've also played Fallout 3 and a little bit of Fallout: New Vegas.
IC:
Name: Jade
Age:20
Appearance: Jade has an hourglass figure, standing at approximately 5'10". Her long hair is pale blonde, bleached by hours in the sun, yet her complexion retains a pale tone. One of her most prominent feature are her eyes, deep, wide and bright green. The clothing on her back has obviously seen several previous owners, consisting of a pale-blue, tattered long-sleeved tee which once advertised something that is most likely as long-gone from history as the logo is undiscernible, over her shirt she wears a dusty once handsome leather jacket. Her jeans are worn with age and wear, covered in holes. strapped across her chest a ragged messenger bag hangs. The most pristine part of her outfit would be a dusty pair of leather sandals she recently found in an old, ruined shop.
Personality: Jade is a very soft-spoken and gentle soul, and can be very indecisive about major decisions, tending to overthink them most of the time. When it comes to dealing with others, she is an easily trusting person and is willing to give anyone a chance, no matter what she may been told about them.
Backstory:
Jade woke up to the startling scream of a woman near by, heart racing she peered through the wooden planks of her makeshift shelter. The scene before her made her stomach drop and for a second she was frozen in fear. Raiders had entered the small camp and were destroying everything. She quickly awoke her aunt who had acted as her mother for the last 17 years as her mother had decided she didn't want the responsibility of a child and her father had never been in the picture. "Sophia, wake up, there's raiders" she quickly muttered shaking her ragged Aunt. Her aunt was a woman you could tell was one beautiful and full of grace, she had bright blue eyes strawberry blonde hair and under those now sunken tired eyes there had been a beautiful youthful woman. They were lucky the raiders hadnt reached her shelter for it was slightly farther away from the rest of the camp due to her Aunt antisocial personality. Jade had always wondered about her aunts past but never questioned for the one time she had her aunt had become unresponsive and her eyes welled with tears of pain. While Jade had always been annoyed with being a bit farther from camp she was grateful at this time. "No time to pack" her aunt muttered as she grabbed the emergency pack that Jade had never really given a second thought until now. Her aunt started crawling out the narrow opening in the pack and Jade followed suite only to be yanked back roughly by her hair. She let out a strangled cry and started to struggle against the raiders big brawny hands. "Look what we have here" He chuckled as he stroked her hair. "Better not let something this pretty go to wa-" His words cut off and blood unexpectedly pour from his neck. Stunned, Jade watched the body fall only to see her aunt behind him. She quickly yanked the knife out of the back of the fallen mans neck. "What are you standing their for? Let's get out of here." she muttered as she step over the raider who was still struggling for life. Jade could only nod for she was at a loss for words, her eyes fixated on the dying raider.Jade kneeled down and grabbed the knife that had been in the tight gasp of his hand. In doing this she looked into his eyes which pleaded for help and were filled with pain. Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth and she felt a deep guilt.
She remembered when she was 17 and had gone out alone for the first time to scavenge. She had been in an old shopping mart of some kind and a man had snatched her from behind. She was helpless against him until a kind stranger snapped his neck freeing her from his rough grabbing hands. At that point in her life she realized how defenseless she was towards other beings. From then on the stranger by the name of Erik became a close friend of hers and he trained her not to hold back on any accounts.Eventually he headed out west but left her with all his knowledge. She took the tip of the blade and pushed it into his chest in the approximate location of where his heart was located. She had never killed before, up until now her life had been relatively peaceful never changing paces too often and rather peaceful, or as peaceful as it could possibly be being in the wastelands.
As she watched his body shutter out one last breath that caused blood to spray her face from his neck, she knew that she did what she had to, to survive. Her head snapped up as she heard raiders heading in her direction. Leaving the knife in his chest she fled, catching up to her Aunt whom was a few meters ahead. "Lets move" she said grabbing her aunts small delicate wrist.
They ran for what felt like hours, until finally coming to a stop somewhere in the midst of ruins. Jade sat down on a large piece of concrete and started to pick a few goatheads out of her feet. "Where are we going?" She asked without looking up at her aunt. "You're going to stay here. I know where we are, I know people nearby. I'm going to go find them but you have to stay here." her aunt said and tossed down the bag she had snatched from their shelter earlier. Jade nodded and fiddled with the strap of the bag. "Jade, I love you." Her aunt said as she pulled a small pendant off from around her neck. She placed it in the palm of Jades hand. Jade fiddled with the smooth piece of green stone, it had been her mothers. She looked up at her unsure of why she would give this to her. "I'll see you soon." Her aunt said as she turned and walked through the dust ruins.
She sat there for hours, those hours tuned into days, and eventually she had been there for a week. While sitting there for those hours she contemplated what her life had been so far. She was unsure of where to go now for Her Aunt could be anywhere by now and it was clear that she wasn't going to return. Jade brushed of the thought that someone might have killed her.She knew she had to leave eventually or starve. On that seventh day she picked up her backpack still heavy with food and water it contained and she started walking. She didn't stop walking, never speaking to people or responding to anyone she walked, scavenging for food here and there and then continuing.
One day she over heard men talking about something called the big apple and it captured her attention for she had been born there yet had not given it a second thought until now. what if her mother still lived there? Even if she didn't it was worth a shot to head there right? With nothing left to loose she headed onward towards the big apple. She needed a motivation and this was it. It was a location. A goal. Not knowing how far it was she traveled for months, her feet aching constantly but a goal was the only thing that kept her thriving. It was all she had to live for.
She could finally see her destination in the horizon. But where would she go from here? What about her mother? Was she there? And if she wasnt what would she do? Maybe she could become a small merchant. It was an easy life right? Unsure of where to start she stumbled into the city walking slowly for this city brought a whole new level of fear to her and she felt small in a city so big. This was the big apple after all.
OOC:
Minecraft Username: MuseofHeart
Age: 19
Definition of meta gaming: Using info gained in OOC to your advantage IC
Definition of power gaming: Doing an action to a player instantly without them being able to retaliate.
What is your past experience in RP, Fallout or otherwise?: I have roleplayed for years, I'm not even sure myself how long I have been but it's been as long as I can remember. It was mostly just textwise rping but about a year ago I was introduced to roleplaying in minecraft. I was told about this server by UofMTigerFan who explained the history of fallout to me since I have not played the games.
IC:
Name: Nathaniel Kenway
Age: 19
Appearance: Nathaniel is albino so he has mostly colorless white hair that looks like it is in a perminate state of bedhead. His skin barely has any pigment in it whatsoever, it looking almost as white as snow. His eyes are a very pale green that tend not to show emotion. He wears a long black hooded jacket over a beaten up white shirt with jeans and sneakers.
Personality: When you first meet him, Nathaniel is very kind and selfless. He will usually go out of his way to help those who are in need even if it endangers himself. However the longer one is around him the more he seems... off. When his true colors laced with dementia and obsession give way he tends to say more and more unusual things that most wouldn't really understand. He has an obsession with those who have ability and a major inferiority complex.
Backstory:
Nathaniel spent his early life in a Vault in Maine with his guardian, having not known his parents. The last Overseer had matched the children up to different guardians and general caretakers. He was born with albinism as well as frontotemporal dementia, a mental disorder. He spent the rest of his childhood in the same Vault as he was born in. Nathaniel's life was truly one of difficulty and struggling due to the Vault's experiment. The Vault was filled with people with mental illnesses and left them completely untreated, with sociopaths as security guards and a schizophrenic Overseer. And only having one guardian to raise him didn't really help too much with that. He barely had anything to do to preoccupy himself with, mostly spending his days alone or talking to the other insane residents in a twisted sort of optimism. When he was in his teens he was at his worst. It was almost impossible to get the boy to stop rambling about justice, hope, talent, and his own worthlessness. It got to the point where the majority of the other Vault residents despised him. Some even broke to the point of beating him but he hardly ever fought back against his attackers, just ranting even louder how they should go ahead and use him if they have any good talents or abilities because they are better than his worthless self which only made their beatings worse. It got to the point where some of the residents had to be restrained by the sociopathic guards that internally also wanted to beat him.
One day something in his mind snapped and when someone approached him, hand balled into a fist to try to punch him he just laughed loudly. A somewhat weak, raspy, breathy laugh. The resident stopped, obviously taken off guard. The man who almost assaulted him and some of the others that were watching obviously saw it in his eyes that whatever bit of sanity that was left in him was taken away. Though the man himself and the others were mentally ill as well, they still seemed shocked. They were even more shocked when Nathaniel kicked the man between the legs causing him to crumble to the ground. They were speechless, having thought he wouldn't actually hurt anyone. They were even more taken aback when he brought his foot down to stomp on his chest, letting out another wordless laugh and shaking his head. The man on the ground began yelling back up at him, telling him to get the hell off and that everyone hates him. He finally spoke up. "I will if you lick my shoes like the filthy man you are."
Years passed by as the other residents either wanted to befriend him only to manipulate him or in solitude. Eventually, at the age of 18 the Vault opened, forcing everyone to leave. He seeing the world outside for the first time. Well, mostly just Maine. Due to him realizing the sun's rays being harmful to his health, he mostly stayed underground in metro tunnels, wandering around aimlessly and using the pistol he had taken to defend himself from mutated creatures and feral ghouls. Eventually rumors came to his ears of the all mutant faction in New York City, this somewhat striking his interest. After a very long time walking through the tunnels, stopping to rest, killing whatever would attack him, and emerging to walk on the surface occasionally at night, he entered the city.
lol
Do you guys have a skype group chat for the server?
Minecraft Username: star63
Age: 13
Definition of meta gaming:Meta gaming is the use of information which the player has found out about while not in character (OOC) and are using it while in character. (this includes motives and actions)
Definition of power gaming: Power gaming is when a player forces a move and/or a reaction out of/on another character or situation.
What is your past experience in RP, Fallout or otherwise?: rp games and I was part of a Shadow of Israphel reanactment, I played Skyrim & Fallout 3 and new vegas
IC:
Name: Kay
Age: 18
Appearance: Kay has a regulators trench coat, a PIP Boy, his father gave him, which was his before. He has black hair, he is African American. He has black eyes. And to the naked eye, he looks kind, with his smile. He is a skinny person, he's not very strong, but he is agile and is good with a long range gun, but can also fight with melee or close light close range guns.
Personality: A bright mind tainted by the wasteland,happily cynical, grumpy, and Proud. He never forgets what people do. He is too sided. To people who don't know him, he seems kind and easy to manipulate. But if any thing, he is good at manipulating people. He loves Nuka Cola and snack cakes. He is trying to find something worth fighting for in the Apple or something to invest in. He loves to push people and is quick to anger. Will walk up to the biggest guy and get in to a fight. He is also a little paranoid and sometimes hears thing that arent there. He is willing to do anything to survive. Falls into random flashes of Depression.
Backstory
Kay was born in 2267 in a small town outside of DC with his Father, Mother and his sister Katlin.
.
The town was a small town and his family owned the general store, where many travellers came to buy and sell guns, foods, and more.
As a child, Kay enjoyed the warmth of the sun and the drink Nuka Cola. It was just so good. He enjoyed listening to stories about the prewar days from his parents and other townsfolk that were passed down from parent to parent. He also enjoyed annoying his sister, claiming "it was his job". He just lived to see how far he could push people before they cracked. He also hung out with the people around town, though most of the time, he was laughed at by the kids for seeing things that weren't there. And his parents thought it was just his imagination
Though he enjoyed his life, his parents were extremely strict. They demanded respect(even if they didn't give any back) and if you didn't give them it you'd be disciplined harshly.
Kay was expected to get up, clean his room, help his father in the shop, polishing the guns and melee weapons. Only then could he play.
It may not have seemed bad but with his mother there, it was terrible. A lot of times, she took out angers from various things on him. If caravans were running late, which they often did, he could bet his mother would be holding him back, critisizing every little thing, calling him names, cussing, breaking things just so he'd have to clean it up and such. He'd be lucky if she would let him go out for more than five minutes before bed and his father wasn't better either. He'd soon grow to hold hard grudges and resent his parents, though he was good at hiding it.
His sister fit like a glove in this, following orders and listening to her parents. Meanwhile, Kay was enraged(privately) and would have rage flashes in private for the rest of his life, where he became extremely angry and was extremely destructive. Voices that didn't have faces would scream around him, kill them, kill them all. He tried to ignore them.
While Kay did listen to his parents, he was subtlily angry. He was passive agressive. After all, he was afraid of his parents and it wasn't like he could just talk to them. What if they abandoned him. What would he do?
A solution finally came at the age of 10 when his father decided it was time to teach him to defend himself. Everyday, before he did his chores, his father taught his hand to hand combat, how to fire a rifle and different fire arms and though those 3 years of training brought him and his father closer, it didn't make the grudges and resentment disappear.
Yet even with the friendship growing it still didn't help much. Kay was skinny and liked guns unlike his father who was bulky and more of
Melee person.
By the time Kay was 16, his sister was 24 and lived in the town, though not with her parents and had made money off of the things she scavenged. She was still also working in the shop, and finally in 2283, she decided to help the family by getting an investment from her parents and opening a caravan to sell the items from the shop all over. And on a warm summers day, she set off.
She never returned.
His parents soon found out she'd ran off and abandoned them by the week when a few townsfolk found the caravan which returned with just the mercenaries who'd and were good friends of the family, guarded it and Katlins journal book with a letter, that was left. Inside was one single entry in which Katlin spoke of her plans of abandonment in a form of a letter. She spoke to the mercenaries, telling them to deliever a letter to to her parents. Kay never found out what the letter said and he darent ask. By the next day they were back to normal.
Regardless if what the letter said, Katlin left the family and neither of the parents wanted that to happen again. They made damn sure Kay would not do so.
So for the next two years, They worked him hard, critisized him harder and never let him off of work as if that how they'd get him to stay.
He'd taken Katlin leave hard. Regardless of age, to him, she was the little sister and it was his job to protect her and... He failed.
He couldn't go on living, he was washed with guilt and it was too much. The voices came back, screaming kill yourself, do it.
On his eighteenth birthday, his father father gave him a Regulator trench coat, he'd been sold at the shop, a sniper rifle and a knife. Kay loved it, though he knew it didn't matter.
That say, his mother and father said to him," Life is what you make of it, remember that." It didnt matter much then, but he'd remember that forever. It was strange the way his father was at that movement.
Late in the night, he stood over his desk and looked at the contents. What laid of the table before him was chems all sorts, cocaine, med x, pshyco, jet and more. Hed stolen them from the shop. What did he plan to use them for? Over dose.
His entire life was ridiculed with shame. On one side, a family that abused him on another, the shame of losing his sister. He just couldnt take it.
Suddenly, Kay smell something burning. Turning to the door, he was shocked to see the door, lit on fire as it began to spread through the room. And for the first time in a long time, Kay was afraid of death. the flames roared as they began to engulf the room. If he didnt hurry, he'd die. Grabbing a bag in his room, he threw all of the chems into the bag. He could overdose later, now he had to get out before the flames melted his flesh. He'd been wearing the regulator cloak already. Grabbing his sniper rifle and knife and propeled him, self out of the broken window of his room as the flames ate more of the room.
The house was a prewar house that had been touch up. It was one story so he was fine. Looking at the burning general store and the house, he just looked. he didnt care. Just didnt. The flames flickered as townfolk panicked.
No one knew what caused the fire. but in the ruble, they found the chared bodies of his parents. friends cried. Every one cried.
Except Kay, all he did was smirk.He wasnt mad, sad.( that rhymed ) He just stood there. The fire had snapped him right out of his suicidal state. There wpuld be time to morn for his sister later.
His parents had left him an inhertitance, left with a trusted friend. 200 caps. Taking the caps, he left. For 2 months he walked the wasteland, living off of nuka cola, snack cakes and anything he could find and killing whatevers in his way.It would be injustice to kill himself. To show his parents he was sad. No, he just kept going. He needed to start a new life, a new home. Even with his parents dead, he still would not give them peace. Forgiveness, that wasnt Kay's thinking. Fool his once, shame on you, he's gonna kill you or die trying.
Finally, he came to New york city, the Empire Wasteland. A new home, a new start. Grinning, he remembered what his father said," Life is what you make of it, remember that,"
Oh he would.
"Tunnel Snakes Rule!"
OOC:
Minecraft Username: AFiestyHobo (Yes, misspelled and everything.)
Age: 18
Definition of meta gaming: Meta-gaming is when an individual's character has knowledge of information that has yet to be, or is not mentioned in-game to said character. This often occurs when an individual is told information OOC and they have difficulty keeping what they know out of the mind of their character. This can lead to strategy-building, planning, or other Role-Play activities based upon knowledge that a character does not have.
Definition of power gaming: I have not heard of ‘power-gaming’ though I assume it follows the same definition as something the role-play groups I have been apart of refers to as ‘God-Modding’? (Please feel free to correct me if I am wrong!). This is when a character is given powers, strengths, or weapons that are not suitable to the Lore (characters own and/or rp), Area, or gives them an unrealistically unjust advantage against other players which can provoke conflict. This can also include attacking and injuring anothers character without giving them a chance to respond to said attack.
What is your past experience in RP, Fallout or otherwise?: I am primarily a literary based 1x1 role-player. I began my experiences on ‘Gaia Online’ and was part of multiple roleplay ‘guilds’. I left there a number of years back, after which I was part of a large email-based Fallout (2-3, then another separate New Vegas group) when Ida (my OC) was created (roughly two years ago). During this time I also had a tumblr account where I was part of a Bioshock (1 to infinite) rp group playing the Canon character Atlas.
IC
Name: Ida Berceuse
Age: Born on May 15th 2266. This makes her nineteen-years-of-age.
Appearance:
Hair: Waist-length with some ‘body’ (waves and the occasional curl) dependant upon the weather. The only part of it she has cut are her bangs, which are shorn across her brow in a rather straight fashion. The colour of her hair is stark-white and due to the filthy conditions of the wasteland looks dust/dirty more often than other hues.
Skin: Ida has skin that is so pale it borders on translucent, showing her major veins with ease. This makes her very susceptible to sun poisoning and other skin-related issues.
Eyes: Her eyes are a pale violet color due to her lack of melanin, which causes them to truly be a pale blue colour however due to the blood vessels underneath it appears to be lilac. She also has very poor eyesight because of this, meaning her depth perception and facial recognition are severely compromised.
Height: 5’ 4” or 162.6 cm.
Weight: 120 lbs or 54.43 kg.
Unique Attributes: Miss Berceuse was born with a condition known as Oculocutaneous Albinism One or OCA1, which affects the pigment in her eyes, skin, and hair. Due to a mutation she has no active tyrosine, therefore it cannot produce melanin, which is responsible for colouring the skin, eyes, and hair of individuals. This inhibits her ability to see (go to Eyes for more information) and prohibits her from ‘tanning’, leaving her with no protection to sunburns, including the most extreme version, sun poisoning. Whether this is an inherited genetic condition due to both of her parents being carriers of the recessive gene, or due to a mutation caused by elevated levels of radiation exposure on behalf of both of her parents (See Victor Berceuse or Susan Berceuse for more information) is undetermined.
(Picture WiP)
Clothing:
Ida wears her pale-blue, fairly worn, Vault 92 Suit with the addition of gloves (courtesy of her Mother) and a large white wide-brimmed hat that use to have a black-ribbon bow adorning it. This was worn to concerts in her Vault.
Personality: She is a hopeful, naive person who takes most everyone at face-value. Her compassion for nearly every other living being often makes her appear foolish to other more hardened wastelanders. Though she is credulous, she is not stupid. On the contrary, Ida has a knack for conversing her way out of difficult situations and knows a fair share about pre-war literature thanks to the sophistication and interests of her Vault companions. Miss Berceuse has a strong sense of self-preservation though views harming another person as a last resort at all times.
Backstory:
Ida was born on May 15th, 2266 in the ‘safety’ of Vault 92, to her father Victor Berceuse and mother, Susan Berceuse (maiden name Huges). Like many of the vaults produced by Vault-Tec, this too was an experimental vault hidden under the guise of ‘preserving musical talent’. Classical musicians were invited into this vault, the majority of them being those who had made a name for themselves in the orchestral world. The true intentions of the vault however were far more sinister.
History of Vault 92
(Due to the 100 year duration of Vault 92 canonically, time has been added to better allow my OC to hail from this Vault. There are also some situations that appear here that do not in Fallout 1-New Vegas, due to the day to day life and events of the Vault not being explored in depth enough to write a cohesive background. The major event that allowed this vault to continue was discussed with and approved by Sander. If I am asked to edit or change anything, I am more then willing to work within the parameters of this role-play!)
October 23rd, 2077 - Vault 92 closes it’s doors the day of the Great War. Those now dwelling inside have no notion of the events to come save for the original overseer, Richard Rubin.
First Generation Vault Dwellers:
The First Generation of Vault Dwellers had many obstacles to overcome due to the true purpose of the Vault. The inhabitants were subjected to ‘white noise’ or ‘subliminal messaging’ in an attempt to program them into super soldiers who could be controlled through a form of hypnosis. Due to their proclivity to be finely tuned to their instruments, they were the choice candidates for this risky experiment.
Professor Malleus, the lead researcher in the vault thought that these experiments were to test their musical abilities. Over time however the first generation of Vault Dwellers were weeded out into two groups, those who suffered delirium and insanity due to the experimentation, and those who exhibited no effects what-so-ever. The insanity and violence of some of their orchestral friends were passed off as symptoms of radiation poisoning due to faulty water by Richard Rubin, who was loathed to see the experiment terminated despite the dangers it clearly posed. By now, only a few of the researchers working on the project were made aware of the experimentation and were forced into silence by way of the hypnosis. One of these researchers did unfortunately did not take as planned to the experiment and was ‘put down’.
Second Generation Vault Dwellers:
The next generation of Vault Dwellers were led at first by Richard Rubin, and later by his son, Ricky Jr. The experimentation continued and there were mixed effects once again however this time the experiment worked for roughly 20 individuals, all of whom were none the wiser. Once more the ill side-effects of the white noise experiment cropped up though is fewer number than before, only a handful showed signs of violence and rage. They were dealt with once more and the Vault continued.
Third Generation Vault Dwellers:
There was a sudden recurrence in the massive amounts of violence from Vault Dwellers badly affected by the white noise. This time explanations of radiation poisoning and other fruitless lies were not accepted, as two of the descendants of the original assistants (who were then assistants themselves) were not affected at all by the hypnosis and so revealed the secret to others. This started an uprising and eventual revolt against the overseer and his compatriots. Those who were under the suggestion of hypnosis fought on the side of the Overseer against those unaffected. The Dwellers who could not control their violent tendencies attacked any near enough to feel their blows. In the end there was a divide among the survivors - some leaving the vault while others stayed of their own will or were subliminally coerced. Ida’s own parents made it outside the Vault doors, though were brought back inside due to straggling behind and hearing the commands of the current Vault Overseer that everyone was to report back inside immediately.
Fourth Generation Vault Dwellers:
The generation from which Ida hails were born into great civil unrest. Though they attempted to continue with the musical traditions and teachings, it was well known that they were prisoners in their own home, mere lab rats. A second and more bloody and brutal coup was attempted, causing the deaths of the vast majority of the dwellers. Ida left during this strife and if any lived, she knows not if they also escaped or still remain trapped inside of Vault 92.
Ida’s History:
Ida was raised much like many of the other fourth generation Vault children. She started with an instrument of her choosing at the age of three, and was taught to read music as well as words. All of the history that they were taught was shown through the veil of great orchestras and operas, learning of the biographies and accomplishments of famous pre-war composers. They would be given private lessons the recording room where a majority of the intensive white-noise exposure happened.
Music from their fellow musicians would be played over the loud-speaker at most hours of the day and night and for certain celebrations such as New Years they would hold the end of year concert in which everyone participated. Ida was classically trained on viola as her primary, followed by violin and cello, harp, piano, and flute. She also showed an interest in guitar though had no lessons with it and learned by ear.
Her mother was a pianist as her primary, and her father played a sousaphone as his. Ida very much enjoyed her time in the vault though did not get along very well with the majority of her peers. She was not as disciplined as them, unable to easily read music she did not enjoy learning through those means. Ida would listen to others play and then mirror it back by ear, and through lessons she hated to sit still. She had explored most of her vault (including some restricted areas) by the time she was eleven, quickly becoming increasingly curious about the world outside the vault. For a reason nobody could really explain, perhaps an old story she had been told when she was a child or an image the music evoked in her mind, she thought that somewhere in the wasteland there was a beautiful lush green land with pure water and she became obsessed with finding it.
Around her seventeenth birthday tensions between the average dweller and the Overseer and his assistants were reaching the revolt stage once more. There was a year and some months of planning by those who wanted to leave and Ida joined in, not completely aware of the bloodshed that would ensue. During the revolt the doors were opened by one of her fellows and Ida escaped with nothing but her Viola on her back and a small rucksack of provisions including a knife and some food.
Ida was found wandering the wastes alone three days later by a man known to her only as Colter, a hardened wastelander who took some ‘pity’ on the girl, though was more intrigued by her gullible nature that he could take advantage of. He did ensure her survival by teaching her useful skills such as basic medical knowledge, how to make a fire, what she could and couldn’t eat as well as trying to teach her the monetary system of the wastes. Ida stayed with him for four months, all the while heading aimlessly (or so she thought) towards the New York area. Little did she know however that he had made plans with some slavers who were willing to pay more than a ‘pretty penny’ for such a girl as he described Ida to be. When the girl found out his plot she confronted him, blindly believing that once he was made aware of how unhappy and unagreeable that sounded to her he would leave her be however that was not the case.
A scuffle ensued and it became a matter of life or death and she ended up sinking her knife into his throat, an action she has regretted ever since even if it was in self defense. He had helped her through the worst of the wastes, leaving her a rather straight and narrow path to the grand ol’ ‘Empire State’, which took her effectively two more months to arrive there.
It is with a heart full of hope, starry eyes and dreams of a better tomorrow that she finds the budding ruins of the once magnificent New York.
(Have I mentioned that Tunnel Snakes Rule? No? Good. Because they don't. -grumpy tunnel snake sounds in the distance-)
PhD here, let's take a peak at this app...
Appearance. Gives me a much better feel for Kay, problem here is the Pip boy and his combat prowess. We are sticklers for lore here and if he is to have a pip boy given to him from his father we need to know what Vault his father dwelled in and what type of experiments went on in said Vault. Combat prowess. Kay, being 18 would barely be decent at one of those three if anything. Characters on our server aren't meant to be proficient in every form of combat (Granted, the exception goes to if you have been trained your whole life by a big league faction such as the Brotherhood or Enclave) Being trained by his father could make him able to use a gun, granted it would doubtful be to an extent where he could be a sharpshooter. but he would be about as trained as your average modern day hunter. That is to say he could shoot but doubtfully win many gun fights unless he had an obvious advantage. Kay can have a normal trench coat but not a regulators duster, being as the regulators are a faction. Mind you this duster/trench coat will have no defense against bullets, it would be purely cosmetic.
Personality. How is Kay good at manipulating people without ever doing it? Judging from his backstory, Kay had minimal contact with people outside of his town and the people he did meet he didn't really manipulate. Being quick to anger and always getting in fights isn't exactly the best way to survive in the wasteland. Kay was described as a skinny individual, yet he starts fights with the biggest men he can? Starting random fights and being quick to anger seems like it would cause Kay to attack random groups and find himself killed. On the server we really don't want people to randomly kill others characters without good reason.
Backstory. Stories get twisted as time passes. Kay would odds are have a really blurry impression of the pre-war era. This isn't to say it is a bad thing. Could easily have some great character development for Kay to have a really different view of the pre-war world. Being 200 years after the bombs dropped the stories would probably be nowhere near accurate. Voices in his head that tell him to kill people are edgy to say the least. Other users have worked hard to create their characters, randomly killing them for no reason but voices isn't really what we want. How is his father good in hand to hand combat? Being trained in it would mean Kay would be proficient in it, and at age 10 that seems doubtful. This also goes for his ability to use guns. The death of his parents is were the majority of the problems arise. If Kay was already planning to kill himself, why would he run away from the burning house? Not to mention you say he had the intention to overdose later, even though he just said he was afraid of death. Why would Kay smirk about his parents deaths? Even the average sociopath would be scarred by watching his parents burn to death. "killings whatevers in his way" I would hope he didn't find many people. The Capital Wasteland is a dangerous place. Kay would lack proper training realistically and would odds are be killed during his first run in with raiders or Yao Guai. Why would he decide to go to New York when he could just go to another place in Maryland? "he's gonna kill you or die trying" why though? Characters don't need to be killing machines, hell we don't want them to be. Users work hard on creating their characters, it would be horrible to kill them for no reason. I have specified this before, but I feel the need to specify it again. Kay can NOT come to New York with a sniper rifle, knife or 200 caps. Characters are meant to come to New York with nothing but the clothes on their back.
For the following reasons, you have been...
I know we seem harsh, and I hate denying people but we are extremely strict on lore and rules on this server. We look to make a server where no one is a player character, from the games so to speak, but rather your average wastelander. The server may seem strict, but it is only due to us trying to make a lore accurate, realistic wasteland.
Hope you understand. PhD out
And I'm back in. Let's review this here app,eh?
Appearance. Love the detail here. Especially how it shows how you will be effected by the sun, being albino and all that shenans.
Backstory. As if this app couldn't get any better. I love the way you included the history of the Vault and how it smoothly transitions into her parents story and then Idas. It is also nice to see more characters with a regret for killing. Only problem I can see is that little knife. Now I know users can't carry around large weapons and firearms onto the server, I am unsure on how small knifes and the like are felt about. I would say don't plan on starting with it for now, but you never know if users will be allowed small knifes and the like at a later date.
My biggest problem with the app is your lack of respect for our Tunnel Snake overlords. Who else would gift us such a bountiful life if not for them? Hmm? Make sure you praise them properly.
But I
sadlycan not deny an app due to the applicants lack of respect for their overlords, so it seems I must deem this application...OOC:
Minecraft Username: Xioofsparda
Age: 16
Definition of meta gaming: Using knowledge or out of character communication to succeed in RP. If my friend messaged me on skype to report the movements of an enemy but we had no way of communicating in character
Definition of power gaming: "Um, my character is a fallen angel with telepathic abilities. Of course he can dodge bullets, duh!"
What is your past experience in RP, Fallout or otherwise?: Played New Vegas for an embarrassing amount of time. Ran two MC RP servers and played on countless Terraria RP servers
IC:
Name: Nero (Born Walks-In-Fire)
Age: 30
Appearance: Nero may only be thirty but he is weathered beyond recognition. Much of his hair has become grey and countless scars, large and small, dot his face. He dresses as an average wastelander, concealing his face to hide his identity and shield his skin from dust and heat. He is a tall man with long arms, dark brown hair, and recently, a ragged beard.
Personality: Nero is reserved and calculating. The teachings of the Legion have made him resilient and determined but also savage and capable of extreme violence to achieve his aims. He doesn't enjoy pain or violence but he doesn't avert himself from it if need be. Since the fall of the Legion, he feels lost and useless.
Backstory: Walks-In-Fire was born into a wasteland tribe in southern Idaho called the Windcallers. They were proud warriors and for that, they attracted the attention of Caesar's Legion. They were defeated in combat but they fought hard and slayed some of the Legion's most talented killers. Caesar killed the few men who didn't want to join his army, brainwashed those who did, took the women as slaves, trained the boys as legionaries, and crucified the Windcaller men who willingly surrendered or were weak/injured. Walks-In-Fire was a boy and therefore was easy to morph into a legionary. Stripped of all his tribal and independent attributes, he was given the Legion name of "Nero."
Nero was shown to be a talented scout; fleet of foot and capable of hiding from the best trackers and dogs the Legion had. Caesar himself wanted the boy, only 13, to become a member of the Frumentari, the Legion's vast network of spies and scouts. Nero spent the next decade spying on the New California Republic, finding new tribes for the Legion to conquer, and secretly killing Caesar's enemies. But something happened that drove Nero to the far east. Some say that the Legion was crushed by the New California Republic and humiliated. Others heard that Caesar had died and was replaced by a brutal commander who knew nothing about running the Legion aside from fear and savagery. Some whisper of an army of machines defending the mythical city of Vegas who destroyed the Legion and claimed the Mojave. It's not clear and Nero will never speak of it but one thing is known, there was nothing left in the Legion for him.
So now, Nero has walked for hundreds of miles, searching for a purpose for his talents. Perhaps, the Big Apple offers such an opportunity.
Tunnel Snakes Rules...
My youtube channel with World of Warcraft content, machinima, and game reviews
It looks like you've improved her backstory and such a lot. I'm glad to say that your character is now...
See you in the Apple!
Well since I haven't received a reply I thought I would just start from scratch and try a new character.
OOC:
Minecraft Username: Josh_Changeling
Age:21
Definition of meta gaming: To assume one knows info and law instead of considering what exactly your character would know in this world. To meta play involves two base actions. First to assume your character knows what you know instead of finding out for himself. Your character does not know who the Brotherhood is or Ghouls unless it fits with their backstory and should act accordingly when discovering both. Second is to use more gameplay knowledge such as seeing name tags though walls or item locations to benefit your play style.
Definition of power gaming: To either push an action or to attempt an act one can not realistically accomplish. A power gamer has a clear goal or objective and does whatever they can to achieve said goal regardless of story or character. One must let the story morph the character not the other way around.
What is your past experience in RP, Fallout or otherwise?: I've spent the last three years on forums, Skype and a MLP rp sever. To be more accurate I have done short, medium and long term rp from a wide range of canons although I have only done fallout based rps I have played ALL fallout games EVEN the crappy xbox game from start to finish, read the lore over and over even loving the cut lore from the cancelled fallout 3 so I have a ton of experience in fallout itself.
IC:
Name: Jacob Smith
Age: 24
Appearance: Male, short brown hair, tanned skin, thin lean frame, emerald eyes, roundish nose with a thin face.
Personality: Critical, self centred, a bit egotistic but that furthers his morality. He likes to see himself as a good person and as such, tries to BE a good person. Despite this he is often questioning of others motives and goals often wondering what doing an act for another may benefit him, though this is often the case with goals for convenience or basic assistance. When it comes to more aggressive, flat out dangerous situations he often can't help but to get himself involved, if somewhat reluctantly. He has a good heart even if he tries everything in his power to push that side of him away, probably coming from his background were having soft feelings can be the single cause of financial disaster.
Backstory: Jacob grew up out north in Enclave territory in one of it's protected settlements, a sort of "middle class" to the well off Enclave members and the rejected wastelanders living in their own filth. His life was pretty basic from the get go, growing up in a three sibling family with a mother as a teacher and a farther as a Enclave employed enforcer,although he removed himself from the family when Jacob was about fifteen. Originally, Jacob found great interest in history and wished to join the Enclave as either a historian or a soldier though sadly due to his position Jacob would have to do something quite impressive in order to even be up for acceptance and as such eased into a trader position after a short part time job with a caravaner assisting with scavenging. Jacob eventually put up shop himself as a sort of nick nack vendor since the Enclave pretty much kept the area relatively mutant free but naturally plundered anything of military value leaving behind toys, board games, Nuka Cola and other do dads which he could swipe up and sell.
Jacob's business grew once he began trading with people outside the Enclave's protection hiring a guard as well as employing some underpaid wastelanders as scavengers. Ultimately, his short term success got him an invitation to a united financial expedition. Many people knew that since the Enclaves defeat out East the Brotherhood had been expanding and as such, often found themselves either too stretched or advancing too quick to properly pillage potential loot leaving it open to scavengers and since they could identify objects people of the Capital Wasteland might see as nothing more then junk, a number of traders got together and suggested pooling their resources for a expedition, loot what they could and return to make a killer profit ESPECIALLY if they managed to get their hands on any energy weapons or civilian issue power armor which the Enclave paid huge bucks for. Many felt the venture to dangerous but considering Jacob had never experienced true danger he believed this as a opportunity both to get recognized by the Enclav, potentially following his original career goal and to make a ton of cash too.
The expedition did not go well. Originally there was twenty guards and five traders including Jacob along with pack Brahmin carrying supplies. Raiders picked off four guards, a ghoul charge when they moved a little too close to a rather glowy town took out another six. In the end everything stopped when unknown attackers hit at night when most of them were asleep in a farmhouse. Jacob has no idea who attacked and in fact has little idea what even happened only that there was a lot of fire and these unknown foes entered the building for bloody hand to hand combat. Terrified out of his mind he simply ran out the back door being shot at twice before making it into the dessert. It wasn't long before what little supplies he had on him dried up, not to mention he didn't have any weapon so naturally he found himself drawn to the closest city he could find in the unlikely possibility of finding other people or just to get food, water and something to protect himself with, hence how he wondered into the Big Apple.
Jacob himself is basically looking to survive now, still shooken up by the whole experience. His ultimate goal would be to return back home but considering the disaster last time and the amount of supplies and manpower that took it's unlikely that's going to happen any time soon and as such would be attempting to find protection plus a living anyway he can whether as a scavenger, a farmer or even as a rather pathetic gun for hire.
Tunnel Snakes Rule.