You can edit what you say, you know. Anyway, i felt as though the three raiders you added in towards the end was a made up faction. You can't really RP them being there, if nobody is them. So you'll have to actually go and get someone to do it, or just not use them as a goal in RP. I believe i messaged your friend about this already, ask him about it further.
Denied
You didn't read the rule enough, and your meta gaming and power gaming definitions are very off. Fix these, and reapply and i'll go through your IC afterwards.
Denied
You haven't read the rules enough, and there is an age requirement of 13 to be on this server.
Requirements of people below 13 are much higher, just for the standard of maturity and suggestive themes on the server itself.
So you can reapply, but you'll have to put alot of work into it.
Fallout Experience:
I currently Own Fallout 3, & New Vegas. i am playing the older titles Currently
Define Meta Gaming:
When you use a past experiences to make your Person better, Example: as a kid my dad gave me a M16 & a Crap ton of bullets.
Define Power Gaming:
When you make yourself like a Master at something example: in a split second i killed all 1000 people with one slash of my sword.
IC -
Name:
Poseidon
Gender: Male
Age:
18
Race:
Greek Mixed with African American
Appearence:
Yes, i did make this skin
Signifying Traits:
Always Wearing that same jumpsuit
Signifying Skills:
He is good at Scavaging and Surviving
S.P.E.C.I.A.L.'s: (40 points to distribute, maxes out on 10)
Strength- 6
Perception-5
Endurance-7
Charisma-5
Intelligence-5
Agility-7
Luck-5
RP example:
As the kid hid, he started to wonder what he was hiding from, he just ran under his bed when he heard a loud screaming from his mother. then his door swung open. he saw black gases flood into the room. he was scared. the gases started to turn purplish. the kid peeked to see a tall black figure standing over the bed, the figure was staring at him purple eyes. it let out a ear piercing scream while shaking uncontrollably then he Disappeared, the kid went out from under his bed and ran outside, trying to get far away, then the creature teleported in front of the kid and the kid meet his demise
Biography:
My name is Poseidon. I don't remember much of my childhood. life is fuzzy. i was searching for food when i saw a gas station. i ran into it when i realized it was full of bandits, at that very moment i turned around to run out but i took a bullet in the leg while running out. i was limping. Unable to move much i fell to the ground. i was dyieng, i had to stop the bleeding. when i gathered enough strength to move alittle bit, i looked up to see a man, a Bandit. he said "This one will give use a good amount with the slavers" then smiled while getting his gun out. i notcied the guns butt aim at me, i tryed to dodge it, but the gun already hit my head, everything was getting darker. i felt memorys slipping out of my grasp. life started to fade in front of my eyes, then i saw a light. i ran toward the light untill i noticed the light was growing, in confusine i just staired at it until i realise it was coming towards me. i started to run away from it but it was to fast and it consumed me. at the same moment i got consumed,i started to see a world around me.. i was awake. infront of me was a big group of people in handcuffs sorrounded by a huge group of people with guns. then i realised i was handcuffed to. i didn't remember a thing of my past or why i was here. at that very moment i noticed i was in a jumpsuit, i felt like i had a connection to it. then i heard shooting, i ducked all the way to the floor. i was scared shocked on what was happening. there was a group of people attacking the slavers one of the slavers died next to me. i quickly tried to get the keys out of his pocket, it wasn't easy but i did it. i was free. then i saw the other people in handcuffs screaming, i ran over there to unlock them too. we all ran away to a broken bridge then went are separate whys, i went towards a major city. 3 of them went towards a farm. 1 came with me, 2 decided to stay put and make camp
Denied
It just wasn't a very good application. Your grammar had more holes than a scavenger in raider territory. Not to mention, it lacked creativity. I understand the whole amnesia thing, but you didn't really put any detail into the events after that. And like i said, the grammar issue made this horrifying to read. Your RP example also failed to show any real detail or anything to show you were any good at in game Roleplaying. Feel free to reapply, but next time, make it worth the effort.
I'm a bit confused right now. Is the server building up to Beta, or is it already in Beta? And if it is already in Beta, where do I find the IP?
Its in Alpha right now, and is currently building up to the Beta. I'll tell you when the server is up over skype ^-^ And one the forums if you stalk it. But it won't be for some time.
Hey Dual, it's Mane. Been a quadzillionbillionuslargnb years since I checked up on the server, and I just wanna say I'm impressed. I'm also working on a character application -whether it's needed or not- so I can be more involved. I may not be on much though, just saying. Final year of school and all. Anyway, will see you when I do.
-Mane Tenebras AKA lilfreddie
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
My friends call me Triple... but you can call me Jane, for all I care.
I would like to apologise in advance for the rambling mess that is this application. It's currently 2:30AM and I could not be bothered putting this off till a more sensible time.
OOC -
IGN: lilfreddie
Gender: Male
Age: 17
Have you read the rules: Yes. And I would like to point out that I am not so frugal that I wouldn’t financially contribute to the server, but I have –let’s be honest- more important uses for my money.
Have you read the lore: I am the law. I have enlisted many an ass.
…Wait. Wrong version of the word ‘law’.
But on a more serious note, yes. I have read what lore there is. If there is more than the BoS and the PBR –I’m gonna call them that now. It’s quicker.- then I must be blind.
RP Expierence: You’ve pretty much seen my experience. Also, whoever was in charge of making the application form spelt ‘experience’ as ‘expierence’. Twice.
Fallout Expierence: I’ve done multiple play throughs of FO3 and FNV. I paid attention to the lore within the game etc. and can react appropriately to most topics within RP. That is not to say I am a lore junky.
Define Meta Gaming: Meta gaming –as far as I remember- is the use of knowledge gained outside of your characters knowledge within RP. Might I add, a sin punishable by death.
Seriously. I will hunt down the fool who Meta’s and eat his spleen. Maybe with some toast. IF they deserve to go with toast.
Define Power Gaming: Power gaming in a non-RP sense is to take advantage of a certain in game mechanic, glitch, formula or other to “max-out” a character to the point of being a god. In Skyrim, this mostly consists of using a combination of Alchemy and Enchanting to create a spells-for-free master warlock.
In an RP sense though, power gaming is all about putting yourself in a position of power you did not earn and is unbeatable. It is not –by my definition anyway- power-gaming if a character is able to obtain and use a set of hyper-enchanted power armour in combat legally, and has proven themselves enough to earn it. If they lock themselves in an impenetrable bunker with a big red button that destroys the bases of their enemies and their enemies only, that could be very easily considered power gaming.
Unless they go to the effort of setting up all the redstone to actually do that. In that case, fair enough. But get a life.
IC -
Name: Mane Tenebras (like it would be anyone else. I just love him to much, and he get’s around a lot).
Gender: Male
Age: Depends strongly on WHEN the server is set. If it’s after the Lost Days server, then over 60.
Race: Human. Mostly. I think we came to the conclusion he also had some Deathclaw, Radscorpian and Molerat genes in there as well.
Appearence: It’s ‘appearance’. Anyway.
Mane has messy black hair that slightly shadows his scarred and haggard face. His skin –though still appearing to be that of a man in his mid-thirties- was starting to show signs of the wars he’d been in and the years he had survived. His defining trait –his glowing green eye on the blackened half of his face- was still present after the many years he had roamed the wastes. His overalls were dusty and his leather backpack was made of good strong leather, but still showed the signs of age. You could see the repairs he had done on it quite clearly. His shoes were somewhat out of place, being of a military design particular to the NCR. He carried on his belt a large steel buckle. If you were to flip it over, you would be able to see the blood stains from one of Mane’s worst injuries. Carved on the front though, are the words “Forgotten General”.
Signifying Traits:
As mentioned in “Appearence” as it is so delightfully called –I’m feeling sarky today, can you tell?- one of his signifying traits is his large green eye. The sight of it has freaked out many a killing man and woman. Another trait is his ability to injure his left leg, and never his right. Thankfully, this has never resulted in a life long limp, but it has cost him many a litre of blood.
Signifying Skills:
Mane is a bit of a Jack-of-all-trades. He has proven to be an excellent farmer and medic, along with a good leader. Perhaps not the best in times of conflict, but certainly a good peace-maker. In the short amount of time he spent as a member of the NCR, he got rather good at swinging a machete. His even shorter time in the BoS taught him to use a laser pistol scarily well though. Throughout the years, Mane has also used his “silver-tongue” to trade with farmers and the like around him.
A summary of his skills:
-Melee weapons, blades in particular.
-Energy weapons, lasers in particular.
-Medicine. *Tagged*
-Speech. *Tagged*
-Barter. *Tagged*
S.P.E.C.I.A.L.'s:
(40 points to distribute, maxes out on 10)
Strength- 4
Perception-5
Endurance- 8
Charisma- 6
Intelligence-7
Agility-5
Luck- 5
RP example:
*Based upon actual events in the “Lost Days” server*
Some way below Mane’s tower, a small caravan enters his fledgling town of Gamma to trade. Cupping a hand around his lips, he yells down to what appears to be a young red headed gal.
“Allo there! Lookin’ for anyone?”
She looks around wildly on ground level for a bit, before noticing the silhouette on the top of the concrete building.
“Yes actually. I heard that Mane was looking for a trading partner over the radio. Do you know him?” Her voice carried easily to him. Clearly, this woman was not some weak little flower in the dry ground of the wastes.
“You would be speaking to him. I’ll be down in a second.” Mane rushed his way down the elevator shaft, barely clinging onto the ladders he had hung there once the elevator itself had fallen. Reaching the lobby, he rushed out the doors to great the trader. “Welcome to Gamma! I trust you know the rules, they’re on the signs on the way in.”
“No shooting, no violence, etcetera etcetera?”
“Etcetera etcetera. Now, I trust you want to hear my proposal?” Mane held out his hand in greeting as he spoke, a gesture that was quickly returned.
“Yes. I have my own terms to set first though.” Mane frowned. “Fair enough.” He thought quickly, coming to the conclusion that this lass was no stranger to trade, or entering a strangers veritable fortress with no fear in her heart. “If I set up a stall here, you will get 15% of the caps I make. How does that sound, Mane?” He smiled. “I was gonna start at 10%. Deal.”
Biography:
The Tenebras family as a whole is an enigma to most. Consisting of Mane’s children –Danye and Tawny- and himself, they each pose a threat to all who get on their bad side. However, Mane is perhaps the most enigmatic of all.
Whilst he is often seen as a charitable man trying to make life in the wastes easier, a few know him as the devil himself. His mixed up genes give him abilities some could only dream of, such as enhanced cell regeneration or the ability to digest most food sources whether they are strictly for human consumption or not. His “breeding” so to speak makes him the perfect wasteland survivor. This is something that many people have attempted to take from him. For example, if you do manage to get him drunk –an act that is nigh impossible due to his hate of drinking- he will speak of aliens and how he was abducted once. This tale is not as silly as it sounds.
Other reasons for his more evil reputation with some people include cannibalism –an act that is not entirely his fault-, murder, theft, general banditry, and nuclear warfare. That last part was more to do with his children than himself, but everybody seems to forget that part.
Bad things aside, Mane has recently turned to a nicer path. His later years have been spent creating peace between warring factions and creating small towns for people to live in. Unfortunately, it is part of his families enigma that eventually he must move on, and so he often passes the reigns to someone else and leaves them in charge of the town he has raised.
In terms of his past, that is a close held secret. His first clear memory is of the Big Empty, a scientific research complex known –by about three people- for creating great horrors and being generally crazy. His escape from the hell he was born into involved a giant Molerat, a .357 pistol and a Ghoul named Jeanne. From that point onward, his life became a convoluted mess off good and evil acts, psychotic lapses and general inability to keep a stable life.
This tragic –trust me, it is- life brought him to Manhattan, where he finds himself once again in the middle of a fight.
In game name:FearlessPie121 Age:15 Gender:Boy Country or timezone:Arizona, United States Have you played any Fallout games? Which one(s):Fallout New Vegas Why do you want to play on this server?:My friend told me about this server. I thought it was pretty neat. I love rp games and i want experience Fallout, Minecraft style. Did you read the rules?:Yes Have you read the lore?:Yes
IC Name:Tai Age:19 Gender:boy Character's signifying traits and attributes:Nice, serious in during important matters. Side of his mouth was scarred from a piece of glass when his house was bombed(after 2077). Tall hair, and he is 6 ft. Was trained in a secret organization. (Now Kia) He was taught to flee, how to handle guns, free running, and stealth.ALSO He's ASIAN (filipino) S.P.EC.I.A.L.
*Luffy opens the door* "Hey there." He said cheerfully "Hey Luffy," Robin responsed. Robin was a skinny girl who was about 18 years old. Luffy and Robin worked together for a while to find the sacred history that was banned for the World Government. *Hears a knock* "Open up! This is the World Government , please come outside with your hands up in the air!" "We're not waiting anymore!" *They bashed the door open* Luffy quickly dashed for his pistol and ran back for cover with Robin behind him. "Robin, I'll give you cover while you run to the emergency exit," said Luffy. Luffy sprang up to shoot. Bullets soared wildly threw the air. One by one, the World Government was getting shot by Luffy. "Phew that was a clo-," before Luffy finished his sentence he was shot. Robin came back to get him. "You have to go with out me,"Luffy said while gasping for air. Robin knew she had to leave him behind. The government called back up, and they would be here any second now. Robin said her sorrowful good byes. She left without leave a trace. (Dang that took long to write)
Hello, My name is Tai. I'm a 19 year old kid roaming the wastelands. I was in a secret organization called the "Prophet", but it was disbanded after my leader "Lloyd" was killed by a secret mercenary. I was 16 when i started roaming the wasteland. I was pretty much a lone wolf until was jumped by some street bandits who stripped me, and left me to rot. I awoken by a broken skyscraper. All I had left was my gun, a stone hatchet, and few ammunition (10) I searched for a local resident nearby to ask where I was, but I encountered a sign that says "Welcome to Manhattan" Siblings:Brother:Chris(mia),Mom:Robin(died of a secret bombing),Dad: Luffy(kia)
Define Meta Gaming: Pretty much in the past if you said I was given a Bazooka with a life time ammunition.(Using over powered past experience to use advantage in the future.)
Define Power Gaming: Well pretty much if you're over powered like 99 points on acrobatics, swords man and stuff (Over powered, not killable)
OOC -
IGN: Ecurbmac Gender: Male Age: I'd rather not specify, although I am in my twenties. Have you read the rules: Possibly. Suffice to say I am likely the least frugal person to ever pick up a copy of minecraft. Have you read the lore: Yes. RP Experience: D&D, Various spontaneous internet RP sessions in places like 4chan and other non-RP related forums. The (now defunct) Kingdom of Aeonis minecraft server. Fallout Experience: Fallout 3, Fallout New Vegas. Define Meta Gaming: The act of using knowledge or information obtained by OOC means ICly when the character should not know said things ICly. To a lesser extent, anachronisms in general. Define Power Gaming: Generally easier to define on a case-by-case basis, however, broadly speaking, Power Gaming is the act of giving oneself an unfair RP advantage in some way or another.
IC -
Name: Dr. Michael Yass. (Or not. Might have been hit over the head once or twice and given the name as a sick joke, he can't quite remember.) Gender: Male. Age: Indeterminate, but seems to be in his early-to-mid twenties. Race: Caucasian. Appearence: Michael has long, unkempt blond hair, darkened to an almost brown colour from years of dirt and grease, and brown eyes. He doesn't shave often, leaving his facial hair as anywhere from a knotted mess all over the lower half of his face to a greasy stubble. He wears a filthy, ragged white lab coat, yellowed with age, along with a a pre-war dark green shirt and brown pants. His brahmin leather shoes appear to be quite old, and by the way they seem to have been cobbled together, it's a miracle they're still intact. He wears thin-framed reading glasses, likely stolen off a corpse at some point or another. He carries a surprisingly well-made brahmin leather satchel, which he uses to hold most of his supplies and belongings, the most prominent of which is a pre-war medical handbook that seems to have been read innumerable times. His only two weapons include a crude utility knife, made of a sharpened piece of scrap metal with tape wrapped around it to form a makeshift handle, and a worn nine-millimetre handgun.
Signifying Traits: He generally seems a bit aloof, and has a surprisingly up-beat demeanour for someone who's lived more or less alone in the wasteland for most of his life, having been able to scrape by through trickery and tactics that some might consider cowardly. He has a small Canadian flag tattooed onto his chest over where his heart is, although he can't remember where and when he got it.
Signifying Skills:Michael is a moderately competent doctor, having learned his trade from other survivors and his prized medical handbook. He has some experience with scraping together homebrew remedies from the few plants that still grow in the wasteland, but is generally much more reliable when pre-war supplies are at hand. As a side effect of living in the wasteland, he has had some experience handling small arms and knives, although he generally prefers to avoid combat altogether if possible. He is borderline psychopathic, treating strangers with about as much respect as a legionnaire treats a particularly useful slave.
S.P.E.C.I.A.L.'s:
(40 points to distribute, maxes out on 10) Strength-3 Perception-6 Endurance-4 Charisma-6 Intelligence- 7 Agility- 5 Luck- 9
RP example:
A chilly breeze brushes over the doctor's face, waking him up from his comparatively restful slumber. For the first time in months, he had managed to come across a somewhat-intact house, with a working mattress and water and everything. Of course, last night, Michael had been so ecstatic about finding such a well-preserved hideaway that he hadn't considered the possibility that someone might already be living there. That someone, as he found out by simply rolling over, was a grimy man holding a gun up to his head, someone who, thankfully, did not look like a raider.
The gentleman spoke, never moving his finger off of the trigger: "Mornin'. Care to explain why you're in my house?"
"Well, it was a nice house, and you weren't in it last night, so I figured it was empty... Care to explain why you're holding a gun to my head?"
The armed homeowner frowned slightly at Michael's retort, poking him brusquely with the end of the pistol. "Way I see it, I'm entirely within my rights. This is my house, and that means I get to do what I want. So, why don't you try and give me a reason why I shouldn't just blow your head off and take whatever it is you've got in that bag there?"
"For starters, I'm a doctor. I can... Fix wounds, and all that stuff. Furthermore, there's nothing of any real value in the bag, so I'm probably not even worth the bullet. Well, there is the one thing... But that's only valuable to me." Michael glances fearfully at his bag, still placed exactly where he had left it last night, at the foot of the bed, on the ground.
The stranger, apparently a man of greater greed than bloodlust, took the obvious bait and went for the bag. Michael, clearly a man of greater self-preservation instincts than mercy, went for the hand-made utility knife he kept in the interior of his coat. Shortly after, knife met flesh, and yet another otherwise innocent soul departed the wasteland for a better place, leaving behind his pistol and home to his recently-declared next of kin, one Dr. Michael Yass.
Biography:
Originally hailing from Ronto, an area that is to some known as the ruins of a major ex-Canadian city called Toronto, Michael Yass was likely born under a much different name, probably to scavenger or settler parents. Regardless, most of his early life has been literally beaten out of him over time, due to an unfortunate tendency to get hit over the head whenever he encountered raiders or other survivors. Doctor Yass has spent most of his life wandering the wastes between major cities, and has been as far north as the ruins of Montreal, as far west as The Pitt, and as far south as the Capital Wasteland over the course of the ten years or so he's spent wandering. Miraculously, despite the fact that he likely should have died several times over by now, he has managed to weasel his way out of every life-threatening situation he's been in, oftentimes by using his relative medical proficiency and literacy as a bargaining chip of sorts, but more often then not though sheer lucky coincidence: On more than one occasion, his life has been saved by local brotherhood of steel paladins or vigilantes who happened to decide to attack the raiders shortly before his gruesome demise. Over his life, he has developed into somewhat of a doctor, having at one point found a mostly-intact pre-war military-issue medical handbook, which he has all but memorised, and considers to be his most valuable possession, and on several occasions taking time to learn from others how to assemble makeshift medical supplies from common ingredients. Exactly why he is in manhattan is debatable, although it's more than likely that he simply stumbled across the area while wandering the wastes.
Denied
You didn't read the rule enough, and your meta gaming and power gaming definitions are very off. Fix these, and reapply and i'll go through your IC afterwards.
I have read the rules again, as you asked.
Define Meta Gaming: Meta Gaming is when you know things that your never found out about in the game. An example of this would be knowing where a hidden chest is based on what you read on the internet, without you finding it out in-game using your character.
Define Power Gaming: Power Gaming is when your character has some sort of overpowered ability that shouldn't be obtainable. For example, jumping eighty feet in the air and being fine once you hit the ground.
By the way, you said my Meta Gaming definition was off, but based on past accepted posts, my definition is correct. I don't mean to correct you, I am just pointing it out. I fixed my Power Gaming definition though. It was quite wrong. I would like to ask you to read the rest of my original post for my roleplay example and biography, as here it would do nothing but clutter up your thread.
As I said in my application, if this is not satisfactory to you, please tell me what I should change.
Accepted
The only condition is that you don't have the power gaming traits of "genetic cell reproduction" or the stomach thing. I'm not sure what you mean by breeding, but i'll just have to assume its power gaming as it makes him the perfect survivor Anyway, Lost Day's is also not canon on our servers lore. So a lot of those events will not happen, or have happened in RP. By the way, our server takes place in 2290.
Accepted
The only condition is that you don't have the power gaming traits of "genetic cell reproduction" or the stomach thing. I'm not sure what you mean by breeding, but i'll just have to assume its power gaming as it makes him the perfect survivor Anyway, Lost Day's is also not canon on our servers lore. So a lot of those events will not happen, or have happened in RP. By the way, our server takes place in 2290.
In terms of the power gaming aspects of "genetic cell reproduction" and the stomach thing, it's not power gaming so much as just useful. An example of the cell thing... if Mane got a cut on his arm, it wouldn't instantly heal or anything silly. It would just heal perhaps one or two days quicker than the average human. In terms of eating things not fit for human consumption, that was more a reference to Mane's addiction to Radscorpian glands and his ability to stomach things like that. Also, in hindsight, "perfect survivor" was the wrong term. "Better survivor" is more accurate.
-Mane Tenebras AKA lilfreddie
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
My friends call me Triple... but you can call me Jane, for all I care.
You can't really. By not putting nearly any effort into the application, you had shown what kind of roleplaying person you are. And its exactly the kind we don't want. I will not hold your hand through the application process, and i'd recommend you attempt another server. Not this one.
I'm sorry for your being denied, however, its for the best of the server and its RP quality.
Goodbye.
~Dualmittens
Dual, what if he's a novice? Nobody begins an expert you know...
Obviously i know these things. But months of applications have set wisdom to me, and i can tell when an applicant has potential, by them at least trying to make a story, compared to the people who just want on a server. I'm full and well willing to help train any new Rp'ers, but i want to see them put effort into an application. He wasn't denied because it was bad. He was denied because he didn't even try, and if he did, he would have put more than 3 sentences in any given area.
Just asking before I make an app, is it possible to apply for a ghoul character (not feral)?
Also do you have an emotes plugin or a plugin that allows you to use /roll like lotc?
What year is this set in? Also in the app it mentions about have you read the lore, does it mean the factions' lore or is there a separate page? If the latter please can you give me a link.
You can make a ghoul character, feel free. We do have hero chat, but as for a /roll plugin, i will look into.
The year is 2290, and just read the BoS lore, as it covers most events up to the long island server. Of course, we will soon post Long Island lore, when its fully redone. Thanks for asking questions, and i can't wait to see your application!
Here you go, my original post along with my revised definitions. I hope you will find this as satisfactory, and look forward to (hopefully) playing on your server. Nice trailer, by the way!
OOC - IGN: DgtheGreat Gender: Male Age: 16 Have you read the rules: Yes, I have. I'm moderately frugal. Have you read the lore: I have read the lore included in this thread. I know a huge amount about Fallout lore itself. RP Expierence: Multiple Minecraft role-playing servers, Garry's Mod (Half Life Roleplay), DayZ (Survivor roleplay), ArmA 3 (Stratis Life roleplay servers). Fallout Expierence: Fallout One, Fallout Two, Fallout Three (All DLC's), Fallout: New Vegas (All DLC's). Over 400 hours in Fallout 3, and 92 hours in Vegas. Define Meta Gaming: Meta Gaming is when you know things that your never found out about in the game. An example of this would be knowing where a hidden chest is based on what you read on the internet, without you finding it out in-game using your character. Define Power Gaming: Power Gaming is when your character has some sort of overpowered ability that shouldn't be obtainable. For example, jumping eighty feet in the air and being fine once you hit the ground.
IC - Name: Joshua Rasberry Gender: Male Age: 37 Race: Caucasian (Tan) Appearance: 5' 11", Dark Brown hair, cut short. Wears an American adaptation of Chinese Stealth Armor used in the Great War. Slender build, but he has both good stamina and strength. Extremely light blue eyes, as if they are steel grey. They change colors occasionally. Signifying Traits: Talkative to those close to him, but is wary around strangers. Moderately deep, soothing voice, that calms those he is talking to. Has a freckle to the top right of his upper lip. Signifying Skills: Sneaky, charismatic (good liar), smart, improviser. Josh's stealth armor does nothing but help his already potent skill of sneaking around. When confronted, he can easily get out of the situation by using a mix of trickery, lies, and bullets. Josh isn't the smartest man on post-war Earth, but he knows his way around computers and other machines very well.
S.P.E.C.I.A.L.'s: (40 points to distribute, maxes out on 10) Strength- 5 Perception-6 Endurance- 7 Charisma- 8 Intelligence- 6 Agility- 6 Luck-2 (Josh doesn't believe in luck)
RP Example
As Joshua closes the door, he is now faced with almost impenetrable silence. He notices his breathing. In, and out. In, and out. Suddenly, there is an abrupt *CLANK* on the tiled metal floor. Boots. Definitely boots. Another clank, followed by another. He looks to his right, comforted by the friendly face near him. He's always been able to rely on Conner. As Joshua reaches in to his pocket, he pulls out his .45 pistol. A silencer, about 4 inches long, is fixed to the end of the barrel.
"Let's see if this thing actually works," Josh says to Conner. "It should. Even though this is a different caliber, there shouldn't be any real difference." "Let's hope so." "I switch my silencer between my 9 and my 45 all the time; it'll be fine."
Josh turns his gun around the wall, his arms pressed against the inside of the door as he turns his body on a mental pivot. He pulls the trigger as soon as the iron sights match up with the solder.
One bullet, on kill. The soldier drops. Thump.
"You would think," says Conner "that it would be harder to sneak on to Fort Lewis. I mean, normally a military base would be heavily guarded, right?" "Let's just thank the Lord that it ISN'T guarded. There, take his rifle. I'm sure it will be useful."
Conner picks up the assault rifle with awe.
"This is the first time I've ever held an advanced gun like this before..." "Isn't she a beauty? Four hundred years of American tweaking and revolutionizing, and this is what we have to show for it." "Make sure," Josh says sternly, "that you don't shoot unless they see us. Okay?" "Okay." Conner responds.
The friends walk up to the next steel door.
"It's locked," Conner says. "Not for long!" Josh responds with enthusiasm as he picks up a pack of C4 explosives. He packs it on the door, and the two hide behind the wall bordering the room they came from and where they currently are.
An extremely loud explosion is met with both boys' ears ringing. The door is gone, and the two can easily see in to the next room
"Wow! Look at this!" Conner exclaims in excitement "Ughh.. My head hurts from that bla-" Josh stops mid-sentence to look up at the most beautiful thing that he's ever seen. "What do you suspect that is, Josh?" "It... I don't know. I'll try it on."
Josh takes the suit of black armor off of the stand it was so proudly displayed on. In it's orange visor he can see his own face.
His hand slips, by accident hitting a white button on the built-in Pip-Boy. "WHOA! What just happened!" Josh says in surprise "It.. Disappeared! I see it, but it's, like, invisible!" "Umm, I, umm, I'm going to put it on."
Josh slips his feet into the armor. His legs easily get into it, along with his upper body. It fits absolutely perfectly. He pulls the visor down over his face, leaving him looking like he is in some sort of space suit. Josh fiddles with the dials and buttons until he figures out how to turn on the stealth mode again.
"This is amazing... This is so amazing... There is no way this can be real. Conner, am I dreaming? Are we dreaming?" "No, Josh. No. Let's just get what we can and get out of here. I don't want-"
Gunshot. Josh, still in stealth, turns to see a 7.62 bullet fly across the room. It misses Conner by a fraction of an inch. Josh ducks down under a table, but Conner simply stares at the soldier. He pulls the trigger once more. A second feels like a minute. The bullet flies. It penetrates. Inside the victims head, the military grade bullet tumbles, leaving his brain in mush. No time to think. Must act.
Josh points his gun at the man, his eyes widen at the sight of a seemingly floating gun. He has no reaction time. Two bullets through his body armor, and he's down.
"Please... No... I was..." the man breaths heavily. He has two holes in his body armor, but neither bullet hit a vial organ. He should live. "They'll kill me... They'll kill me! NO! Don't take it! Please... No... I..." his voice fades into senseless mumbling.
Josh turns to his fallen ally. Dead. Cold and hard. Dead, never to breath again. Never to bask in sunlight, feel the cool rush of water, and never to have the pleasure of being with Josh. He's gone, never to return.
He walks over to the man, still breathing heavy. Josh slowly points the gun at the man's only exposed point, below his head. As Josh pushes the gun into the bottom of his chin, the soldier moves his head back.
"Please..." One quick, sharp, sound. A 'pew' of sorts. The man is gone now, just like his friend. Perhaps if he had talked to them a better end would have came out of this.
Josh knows what he has to do. He has to leave. He turns stealth mode off. Josh takes the dead soldier's assault rifle, and the ammunition off of Conner and both soldiers. He finds several .45 magazines and a better silencer on a shelf in the back of the room.
He opens the door, .45 in it's holster assault rifle in his hands. He walks straight, not moving any part of his body but his legs. His face is straight, and it's fixed in an expression of hate.
"Hey! You! Stop, there!" A soldier turns to walk up to Josh. "Oh, sorry. Let me give you my ID." The soldier drops his gun and puts it behind his back to check what he thinks is Josh's ID card. Joshua pulls his .45 out, shoots him in the abdomen, moves up, shoots him under his chin. The man falls to the ground. Thump.
Stealth mode on, Josh speeds up to a jog, then a run. Around the building, to the wall. The same wall where Conner cut the power wire so they could jump over it without being electrocuted. Josh climbs the wall and runs in to the forest, presumably safe from the soldiers at the base.
The only base. The only base with missile interceptors lined on the outside. Eighty of them, lined perfectly to defend from anything a country dumb enough to attack might throw at it.
Josh slows back down to walking speed. He fiddles with the Pip-Boy until he finds some information about the suit and it's origins.
Supposedly it's Chinese stealth armor, used in the Great War. The owner of one was killed, and his armor taken. With the Chinese variant of the Pip-Boy taken out, and the newest version of American assistance equipment was installed. The suit comes complete with a backwards American flag on the shoulder.
It's backwards because America has never lost a war, but have we now? Did we win this war? There are no winners in an atomic war says the wise man, but I say nay.
All are winners in a nuclear war. We simply finished the inevitable before it happened later. Because; war?
War never changes.
Biography
Josh was raised in Washington. Tacoma, Washington.
Born December 10, 2253.
His past family, originally from both Tennessee and Arkansas, still keep their Southern traditions and morals. From times past, his ancestors were from England, Scotland and Russia. His family had members that fought in every war the United States had. From World War One, to Vietnam, to assisting France in the Euro-Middle Eastern war, to the Great War. His great, great, grandfather earned a Medal of Honor in Saudi Arabia when he saved four companies of Germans and French from a nuclear weapon by defusing the bomb himself, with no backup. He died shortly after defusing the weapon. Several Saudi soldiers came into the room, saw his American flag, and shot. They were simply following the rules of war. Josh held no grudge, he barely even knew his great grandfather. Or his papa. Or father. All had died before Josh had the chance to really know them.
When he was still quite young, his family's bunker in Tacoma was raided. After the placed bomb went off, his home was left in tattered ruins. He hid in an air vent. Josh's entire family, along with his six and two year old sisters, were killed. He showed no sadness.
Josh simply opened his safe, took his M1911, took a box of ammo, put on his clothes and pack and left.
It was a surprise when Josh, on his way out of the irradiated city, found Conner (his best friend) with a group of ragtag potheads with pistols.
Josh convinced Conner to leave the group and come with him, which is good, because Josh and Conner later found the group of four dead with a Yai guai standing over them, seeming as if was guarding their corpses. The two easily shot the beast and looted the men.
They both decided to go to Joint Base Lewis McChord to see if any help was available. They went there only to be yelled at and threatened by guards at the gate. It was protected by about twenty soldiers and a tank. There's no way they were getting through there. The two went went around the base and found their way in. Inside, Josh lost his friend but made a new one.
His stealth armor.
After loosing his friend, he wandered from place to place, group to group. At one time he was even part of a city. Sadly, it was overrun by attacks by both raiders and Super Mutants.
One day, he was met by a group of about six. They were making a caravan to the East Coast. Josh was promised riches and adventure, so how could he deny? The group, for three months, made their way to Massachusetts. At first by car, then Brahman. Their car broke down when some dumb ghouls messed up the car while the group was drinking.
Eventually, they made their way to Massachusetts. They also found their way to the Pitt, as it was called.
Josh would have never survived if it weren't for one group...
The Enclave.
Enclave soldiers rescued Josh just in time, but sadly, his caravan partners did not make it out alive. They told him great stories of how powerful they were, and they told him of other great factions, like Talon Company and the Brotherhood of Steel. They took him to Raven rock, their headquarters.
Once Joshua got there, they tested his blood for contaminants. They did comprehensive tests on him. He was found to be clean.
So the Enclave took him in as one of their own.
President Richardson, **** Richardson, that is, gave Josh everything he wanted and more. Food, water, action, adventure, the list goes on and on. Great friends were made, and even greater relationships were formed between Josh and some of the female staff.
Everything was perfect until the order came in. Two platoons of Enclave soldiers, including Josh, would be deployed to Manhattan. New York? Gone. Nothing but rubble. Manhattan was the only supposed area standing within 100 miles of New York.
The group of fifty men arrived at their destination. They lost one man, but only to him falling off of a cliff. He fell asleep when he was supposed to be on watch. Even the most advanced armor on Earth can't protect you from a 300 foot fall. Josh felt sorry for the poor guy. Private Michaels was his name. Josh was not close friends with him, but he still knew him from the chats they would have on break.
There is no way the group would have suffered only one loss without the help of Josh and his stealth suit. He snuck up behind enemies and killed their leaders. He planted bombs. Boom, pow, thump, dead.
He was unstoppable. Josh earned multiple ribbons and medals from the Enclave high command.
His group was unstoppable. Heavy laser cannons, laser rifles, technology only read about in books. Vertibirds. Josh knew the name of each and every soldier with him by the end of his journey.
The group arrived at Manhattan. They were greeted by the Brotherhood of Steel.
Foot soldiers hit by the downed Vertibird. Foot soldiers hit by Brotherhood bullets. Foot soldiers hit by Enclave lasers. Panic, suppression, running, suppression, running some more, suppression. Casualties. Death. Dead. Gone.
Josh has stealth mode on. Three soldiers, Brown, Marcus, and Miranda are following him. They can see his M1911 strapped to his side. Sargent Rasberry is the highest ranking person these people know is alive. The captain is dead. the lieutenant is dead. Private Marcus gets hit in the arm. Twice. He dies.
The group ambushes four unaware brotherhood soldiers. No casualties.
Brown, Miranda, and Rasberry move around the enemies' front lines, flanking them. They kill five more brotherhood soldiers, including a heavy gunner.
Miranda is down, I repeat, Miranda is down. Leave him. We don't need him. Two goodbyes, and the two walk away. He bleeds out.
"Should we just leave?" says Brown, "I mean, they outnumber us far too much. They ambushed us. They have the upper hand... And I-" "Shut up, will you, Brown?" "Really sir, we need to leave." Brown looks into the invisible visor where he knows Josh's eyes are. Joshua sees that he is scared, and he wants out. He feels the same way. "Okay. We leave. We can check back here tomorrow," Joshua says. "Thank God..."
The two leave through the forest. One more brotherhood soldier spotted, and one more brotherhood soldier dead, on the ground. He shot, but missed Josh. The two loot his body. More ammunition for both of them, a candy bar, and a picture.
The man had a wife and a child. How sad that he had to go.
"Perhaps if he was on the right side we wouldn't have to have killed him," Brown says
Brown and Rasberry walk to a large tree and collapse on to it. It's one in the morning.
It's the next day. Josh yawns and stretches his hands to the sky.
"Wake up, Brown... We need to get out of here."
No answer.
The soldier didn't miss. Brown was hit in his neck. He bled out in his sleep without even knowing it.
"No, no, no... This isn't happening... Not again..." Josh says as he hits his head on the tree he slept on, and Brown died on.
The tree Henry Brown, Private, with the Enclave five years, died upon. He had a girlfriend back at Raven Rock. A scientist, and a pretty one at that.
Josh gets up, knowing that a new chapter to his life has just been opened. He walks with power. With might. He opens his visor, and looks at the world without an Amber tint.
Grey. Brown. Dead.
What does Manhattan look like, one may ask?
Grey. Dark. Dead.
What do the trees look like, one may ask?
Grey. Dark. Dead.
Joshua, after going through trial after trial, has a different pigment in his skin.
Grey.
Dark.
Dead.
I hope that you enjoyed my stories. I know plenty about Fallout lore, and some Saturdays I would just spend reading on the Fallout Wiki. The world of Fallout is so amazingly interesting to me. I love role playing, too. I especially love the Enclave. It's a shame that you couldn't join them in Fallout 3.
OOC -
IGN: stev_med
Gender: male
Age: 20
Have you read the rules: yes frugal stuff and whatnot
Have you read the lore: yes
RP Expierence: been on a bunch of fallour rp servers such as sins of the father and the vault rp to name a few, i also rped in the mmos swtor and swg
Fallout Expierence: fallout 3 and new vegas
Define Meta Gaming: using ooc knowledge in character
Define Power Gaming: useing overpowers abilities to force rp onto other. IE trying to kill someone off without their concent.
IC -
Name: Tresk
Gender: m
Age: 20
Race: human
Appearence: ruined closes with rainbow dyed hair
Signifying Traits: stutters while talking, rainbow hair, kind
Signifying Skills: scavenging, pistols, lockpicking (good with his hands basically)
S.P.E.C.I.A.L.'s:
(40 points to distribute, maxes out on 10) Strength- 4 Perception- 5 Endurance- 5 Charisma- 8 Intelligence- 7 Agility- 5 Luck- 6
Taged skills: Pistols, lockpicking, survival.
RP example
Setting: Slaver camp
Tresk: *slowly starts to wake up with a bandage on his head* w-what h-happened why d-does my head hurt so d-dam much?
Slave: *sad tone* You were captured by slavers, see that collar around your neck it will explode if you try to leave the area, sorry man. We bandaged your head when you arrived they must have hit you pretty hard eh?
Tresk: Man I-I have a massive headache and w-what is up with my voice w-why can't i-i stop st-stuttering?
Slave: Must be a side effect from the had trauma hun by the way my names Sunny.
Tresk: I-I got to g-get out of h-here my family must be w-worried!
Sunny: The only way out of here hun is if you are bought or you die. *frowns*
*Tresk tries to look around for a way to escape starting to panic*
Sunny: I told you hun there is no way out my advice is to sit quietly and to not off the guards, trust me.
Tresk: N-no i-i can't i have to get back to m-my family!
Sunny: Don't worry hun just sit and make the best of it....
Biography
Background
Life story
Early life
Tresk was born in a small farming community near the florida coastline. He was a middle son of 7 brothers and sisters. Due to being the youngest he endured hardships from his older sibleings who played jokes on him. His older brothers and sisters always working with his parents on the families ranch. He helped worked growing crops that had minimal exposure to radition useing local purified water. While doing his chores he learned basic farming skills and how to recognized good crops for deadly ones. His family made caps and a living by selling and trading their crops to caravanas traveling along the coastline. While young he always loved it when the traders came by to his area where they would tell stories of the travels they have made and the sights they have seen. One evening he heard a tale from a trader who spoke of an island way to the north. This land was old and had buildings that reached the heavens. He spoke of longlost treasures from a forgoten time and the secret dangers that lurked in the shadows. He knew that one day he would venture out and find these secrets.
Teens
Tresk always loved exploreing the area around his home but one day he ventured too far off his families property. While searching an abandoned ranch house out in the wastes. He was too busy being distracted trying to pick the lock in home to hear more people enter the house. The poeple who came in were slavers. Tresk finally finished picking the lock as the slavers entered the room he was in. Once the spotted him they attacked and even though he fought back trying to defend himself one slaver struck a large blow to his head causing him to pass out. He was tossed into a cart and was brought northward to the slavers base.
When he awake he was in a slave pen in an unknown region of the wastes. He found that his head was wrapped in old clothing and that a colar was placed around his neck. Scared and frightened he tried to escape but failed due to the surrounding fense. The others in the pen attempted to calm him down cause the slavers would beat anyone who tried anything funny. When he was finally calm and tried to speak he realized he could no longer speak normally and stuttered over his words. He continues this habit to today. Latter on he was finally sold to a caravan trader who took pity in this young lad and could use a hand with his caravan. The trader who bought his treated him with respect, kindness, and tought him how to be a successful caravan worker. The collar was removed shortly after the purchase with the option for him to leave but he decided to stay with the trader. He learned much from the trader and was trained in ways to defend himself by the guard the trader employed.
One day after a few years the trader traveled with his caravan back to Tresks hometown and he was finally reunited with his family. He Spent a good while working back on the farm and enjoying his families company and his time home. During a harse winter food and money was growing scarse and his family had to try to think of ways to earn some more caps. Tresk came up with an idea to travel north to the land that the trader told him of in his youth. He set out to head north along the coast to find this strange land and send back riches for his family to live off of.
Young adult
Today he has ventured north from his coastal family home in Florida along the coast out to find treasures to send home to his town. Along his journy he has seen many unique places and people living near the waters. He saw small wandering tribes who craft unique weapons, clothing and untilities. He spent time and told stories with the tribels who lead him to see new places. One of his favorite stops was a newly recovered and operational nuka cola factory that sold carbinated nuka to caravans. The further north he traveled the more he heard stories of the island filled with large buildings and treaures and lost technologies from the past and where to keep heading. Knowing of the grand potential to find new wonders he kept following the coast until he could finally see the tall buildings on the horizon. He finally reached the land he heard as a child and now he has his sights set at fortune. Who and what did he find on the island well i do not want to spoil the suprise so please stay tuned to find out!
Got it thanks.
Accepted
Good enough!
If you have to ask, its already to late.
Accepted
Great application! Can't wait to see you on the server!
Denied
You didn't read the rule enough, and your meta gaming and power gaming definitions are very off. Fix these, and reapply and i'll go through your IC afterwards.
Loved it. However, you probably aren't accepted.
However however, i now have "Buq Lao Muddaa" stuck in my head. Congrats.
Denied
You haven't read the rules enough, and there is an age requirement of 13 to be on this server.
Requirements of people below 13 are much higher, just for the standard of maturity and suggestive themes on the server itself.
So you can reapply, but you'll have to put alot of work into it.
IGN:
Kalebtbacon
Gender:
Male
Age:
15
Have you read the rules:
Yes
Have you read the lore:
Yes
RP Experience:
Skyrim RP, Atherys Ascend
Fallout Experience:
I currently Own Fallout 3, & New Vegas. i am playing the older titles Currently
Define Meta Gaming:
When you use a past experiences to make your Person better, Example: as a kid my dad gave me a M16 & a Crap ton of bullets.
Define Power Gaming:
When you make yourself like a Master at something example: in a split second i killed all 1000 people with one slash of my sword.
IC -
Name:
Poseidon
Gender:
Male
Age:
18
Race:
Greek Mixed with African American
Appearence:
Yes, i did make this skin
Signifying Traits:
Always Wearing that same jumpsuit
Signifying Skills:
He is good at Scavaging and Surviving
S.P.E.C.I.A.L.'s:
(40 points to distribute, maxes out on 10)
Strength- 6
Perception-5
Endurance-7
Charisma-5
Intelligence-5
Agility-7
Luck-5
RP example:
As the kid hid, he started to wonder what he was hiding from, he just ran under his bed when he heard a loud screaming from his mother. then his door swung open. he saw black gases flood into the room. he was scared. the gases started to turn purplish. the kid peeked to see a tall black figure standing over the bed, the figure was staring at him purple eyes. it let out a ear piercing scream while shaking uncontrollably then he Disappeared, the kid went out from under his bed and ran outside, trying to get far away, then the creature teleported in front of the kid and the kid meet his demise
Biography:
My name is Poseidon. I don't remember much of my childhood. life is fuzzy. i was searching for food when i saw a gas station. i ran into it when i realized it was full of bandits, at that very moment i turned around to run out but i took a bullet in the leg while running out. i was limping. Unable to move much i fell to the ground. i was dyieng, i had to stop the bleeding. when i gathered enough strength to move alittle bit, i looked up to see a man, a Bandit. he said "This one will give use a good amount with the slavers" then smiled while getting his gun out. i notcied the guns butt aim at me, i tryed to dodge it, but the gun already hit my head, everything was getting darker. i felt memorys slipping out of my grasp. life started to fade in front of my eyes, then i saw a light. i ran toward the light untill i noticed the light was growing, in confusine i just staired at it until i realise it was coming towards me. i started to run away from it but it was to fast and it consumed me. at the same moment i got consumed,i started to see a world around me.. i was awake. infront of me was a big group of people in handcuffs sorrounded by a huge group of people with guns. then i realised i was handcuffed to. i didn't remember a thing of my past or why i was here. at that very moment i noticed i was in a jumpsuit, i felt like i had a connection to it. then i heard shooting, i ducked all the way to the floor. i was scared shocked on what was happening. there was a group of people attacking the slavers one of the slavers died next to me. i quickly tried to get the keys out of his pocket, it wasn't easy but i did it. i was free. then i saw the other people in handcuffs screaming, i ran over there to unlock them too. we all ran away to a broken bridge then went are separate whys, i went towards a major city. 3 of them went towards a farm. 1 came with me, 2 decided to stay put and make camp
Denied
It just wasn't a very good application. Your grammar had more holes than a scavenger in raider territory. Not to mention, it lacked creativity. I understand the whole amnesia thing, but you didn't really put any detail into the events after that. And like i said, the grammar issue made this horrifying to read. Your RP example also failed to show any real detail or anything to show you were any good at in game Roleplaying. Feel free to reapply, but next time, make it worth the effort.
Its in Alpha right now, and is currently building up to the Beta. I'll tell you when the server is up over skype ^-^ And one the forums if you stalk it. But it won't be for some time.
-Mane Tenebras AKA lilfreddie
My friends call me Triple... but you can call me Jane, for all I care.
OOC -
IGN: lilfreddie
Gender: Male
Age: 17
Have you read the rules: Yes. And I would like to point out that I am not so frugal that I wouldn’t financially contribute to the server, but I have –let’s be honest- more important uses for my money.
Have you read the lore: I am the law. I have enlisted many an ass.
…Wait. Wrong version of the word ‘law’.
But on a more serious note, yes. I have read what lore there is. If there is more than the BoS and the PBR –I’m gonna call them that now. It’s quicker.- then I must be blind.
RP Expierence: You’ve pretty much seen my experience. Also, whoever was in charge of making the application form spelt ‘experience’ as ‘expierence’. Twice.
Fallout Expierence: I’ve done multiple play throughs of FO3 and FNV. I paid attention to the lore within the game etc. and can react appropriately to most topics within RP. That is not to say I am a lore junky.
Define Meta Gaming: Meta gaming –as far as I remember- is the use of knowledge gained outside of your characters knowledge within RP. Might I add, a sin punishable by death.
Seriously. I will hunt down the fool who Meta’s and eat his spleen. Maybe with some toast. IF they deserve to go with toast.
Define Power Gaming: Power gaming in a non-RP sense is to take advantage of a certain in game mechanic, glitch, formula or other to “max-out” a character to the point of being a god. In Skyrim, this mostly consists of using a combination of Alchemy and Enchanting to create a spells-for-free master warlock.
In an RP sense though, power gaming is all about putting yourself in a position of power you did not earn and is unbeatable. It is not –by my definition anyway- power-gaming if a character is able to obtain and use a set of hyper-enchanted power armour in combat legally, and has proven themselves enough to earn it. If they lock themselves in an impenetrable bunker with a big red button that destroys the bases of their enemies and their enemies only, that could be very easily considered power gaming.
Unless they go to the effort of setting up all the redstone to actually do that. In that case, fair enough. But get a life.
IC -
Name: Mane Tenebras (like it would be anyone else. I just love him to much, and he get’s around a lot).
Gender: Male
Age: Depends strongly on WHEN the server is set. If it’s after the Lost Days server, then over 60.
Race: Human. Mostly. I think we came to the conclusion he also had some Deathclaw, Radscorpian and Molerat genes in there as well.
Appearence: It’s ‘appearance’. Anyway.
Mane has messy black hair that slightly shadows his scarred and haggard face. His skin –though still appearing to be that of a man in his mid-thirties- was starting to show signs of the wars he’d been in and the years he had survived. His defining trait –his glowing green eye on the blackened half of his face- was still present after the many years he had roamed the wastes. His overalls were dusty and his leather backpack was made of good strong leather, but still showed the signs of age. You could see the repairs he had done on it quite clearly. His shoes were somewhat out of place, being of a military design particular to the NCR. He carried on his belt a large steel buckle. If you were to flip it over, you would be able to see the blood stains from one of Mane’s worst injuries. Carved on the front though, are the words “Forgotten General”.
Signifying Traits:
As mentioned in “Appearence” as it is so delightfully called –I’m feeling sarky today, can you tell?- one of his signifying traits is his large green eye. The sight of it has freaked out many a killing man and woman. Another trait is his ability to injure his left leg, and never his right. Thankfully, this has never resulted in a life long limp, but it has cost him many a litre of blood.
Signifying Skills:
Mane is a bit of a Jack-of-all-trades. He has proven to be an excellent farmer and medic, along with a good leader. Perhaps not the best in times of conflict, but certainly a good peace-maker. In the short amount of time he spent as a member of the NCR, he got rather good at swinging a machete. His even shorter time in the BoS taught him to use a laser pistol scarily well though. Throughout the years, Mane has also used his “silver-tongue” to trade with farmers and the like around him.
A summary of his skills:
-Melee weapons, blades in particular.
-Energy weapons, lasers in particular.
-Medicine. *Tagged*
-Speech. *Tagged*
-Barter. *Tagged*
S.P.E.C.I.A.L.'s:
(40 points to distribute, maxes out on 10)
Strength- 4
Perception-5
Endurance- 8
Charisma- 6
Intelligence-7
Agility-5
Luck- 5
RP example:
*Based upon actual events in the “Lost Days” server*
Some way below Mane’s tower, a small caravan enters his fledgling town of Gamma to trade. Cupping a hand around his lips, he yells down to what appears to be a young red headed gal.
“Allo there! Lookin’ for anyone?”
She looks around wildly on ground level for a bit, before noticing the silhouette on the top of the concrete building.
“Yes actually. I heard that Mane was looking for a trading partner over the radio. Do you know him?” Her voice carried easily to him. Clearly, this woman was not some weak little flower in the dry ground of the wastes.
“You would be speaking to him. I’ll be down in a second.” Mane rushed his way down the elevator shaft, barely clinging onto the ladders he had hung there once the elevator itself had fallen. Reaching the lobby, he rushed out the doors to great the trader. “Welcome to Gamma! I trust you know the rules, they’re on the signs on the way in.”
“No shooting, no violence, etcetera etcetera?”
“Etcetera etcetera. Now, I trust you want to hear my proposal?” Mane held out his hand in greeting as he spoke, a gesture that was quickly returned.
“Yes. I have my own terms to set first though.” Mane frowned. “Fair enough.” He thought quickly, coming to the conclusion that this lass was no stranger to trade, or entering a strangers veritable fortress with no fear in her heart. “If I set up a stall here, you will get 15% of the caps I make. How does that sound, Mane?” He smiled. “I was gonna start at 10%. Deal.”
Biography:
The Tenebras family as a whole is an enigma to most. Consisting of Mane’s children –Danye and Tawny- and himself, they each pose a threat to all who get on their bad side. However, Mane is perhaps the most enigmatic of all.
Whilst he is often seen as a charitable man trying to make life in the wastes easier, a few know him as the devil himself. His mixed up genes give him abilities some could only dream of, such as enhanced cell regeneration or the ability to digest most food sources whether they are strictly for human consumption or not. His “breeding” so to speak makes him the perfect wasteland survivor. This is something that many people have attempted to take from him. For example, if you do manage to get him drunk –an act that is nigh impossible due to his hate of drinking- he will speak of aliens and how he was abducted once. This tale is not as silly as it sounds.
Other reasons for his more evil reputation with some people include cannibalism –an act that is not entirely his fault-, murder, theft, general banditry, and nuclear warfare. That last part was more to do with his children than himself, but everybody seems to forget that part.
Bad things aside, Mane has recently turned to a nicer path. His later years have been spent creating peace between warring factions and creating small towns for people to live in. Unfortunately, it is part of his families enigma that eventually he must move on, and so he often passes the reigns to someone else and leaves them in charge of the town he has raised.
In terms of his past, that is a close held secret. His first clear memory is of the Big Empty, a scientific research complex known –by about three people- for creating great horrors and being generally crazy. His escape from the hell he was born into involved a giant Molerat, a .357 pistol and a Ghoul named Jeanne. From that point onward, his life became a convoluted mess off good and evil acts, psychotic lapses and general inability to keep a stable life.
This tragic –trust me, it is- life brought him to Manhattan, where he finds himself once again in the middle of a fight.
My friends call me Triple... but you can call me Jane, for all I care.
Age:15
Gender:Boy
Country or timezone:Arizona, United States
Have you played any Fallout games? Which one(s):Fallout New Vegas
Why do you want to play on this server?:My friend told me about this server. I thought it was pretty neat. I love rp games and i want experience Fallout, Minecraft style.
Did you read the rules?:Yes
Have you read the lore?:Yes
IC
Name:Tai
Age:19
Gender:boy
Character's signifying traits and attributes:Nice, serious in during important matters. Side of his mouth was scarred from a piece of glass when his house was bombed(after 2077). Tall hair, and he is 6 ft. Was trained in a secret organization. (Now Kia) He was taught to flee, how to handle guns, free running, and stealth.ALSO He's ASIAN (filipino)
S.P.EC.I.A.L.
Strength- 10
perception-5
Endurance- 5
Charisma-5
Intelligence-5
Agility-9
Luck-1
*Luffy opens the door*
"Hey there." He said cheerfully
"Hey Luffy," Robin responsed.
Robin was a skinny girl who was about 18 years old.
Luffy and Robin worked together for a while to find the sacred
history that was banned for the World Government.
*Hears a knock*
"Open up! This is the World Government , please come outside with your hands up in the air!"
"We're not waiting anymore!"
*They bashed the door open*
Luffy quickly dashed for his pistol and ran back for cover with Robin behind him.
"Robin, I'll give you cover while you run to the emergency exit," said Luffy.
Luffy sprang up to shoot.
Bullets soared wildly threw the air.
One by one, the World Government was getting shot by Luffy.
"Phew that was a clo-," before Luffy finished his sentence he was shot.
Robin came back to get him.
"You have to go with out me,"Luffy said while gasping for air.
Robin knew she had to leave him behind.
The government called back up, and they would be here any second now.
Robin said her sorrowful good byes. She left without leave a trace.
(Dang that took long to write)
Hello, My name is Tai. I'm a 19 year old kid roaming the wastelands.
I was in a secret organization called the "Prophet", but it was disbanded after my leader "Lloyd" was killed by a secret mercenary.
I was 16 when i started roaming the wasteland. I was pretty much a lone wolf until was jumped by some street bandits who stripped me, and left me to rot.
I awoken by a broken skyscraper. All I had left was my gun, a stone hatchet, and few ammunition (10)
I searched for a local resident nearby to ask where I was, but I encountered a sign that says "Welcome to Manhattan"
Siblings:Brother:Chris(mia),Mom:Robin(died of a secret bombing),Dad: Luffy(kia)
Define Meta Gaming: Pretty much in the past if you said I was given a Bazooka with a life time ammunition.(Using over powered past experience to use advantage in the future.)
Define Power Gaming: Well pretty much if you're over powered like 99 points on acrobatics, swords man and stuff (Over powered, not killable)
IGN: Ecurbmac
Gender: Male
Age: I'd rather not specify, although I am in my twenties.
Have you read the rules: Possibly. Suffice to say I am likely the least frugal person to ever pick up a copy of minecraft.
Have you read the lore: Yes.
RP Experience: D&D, Various spontaneous internet RP sessions in places like 4chan and other non-RP related forums. The (now defunct) Kingdom of Aeonis minecraft server.
Fallout Experience: Fallout 3, Fallout New Vegas.
Define Meta Gaming: The act of using knowledge or information obtained by OOC means ICly when the character should not know said things ICly. To a lesser extent, anachronisms in general.
Define Power Gaming: Generally easier to define on a case-by-case basis, however, broadly speaking, Power Gaming is the act of giving oneself an unfair RP advantage in some way or another.
IC -
Name: Dr. Michael Yass. (Or not. Might have been hit over the head once or twice and given the name as a sick joke, he can't quite remember.)
Gender: Male.
Age: Indeterminate, but seems to be in his early-to-mid twenties.
Race: Caucasian.
Appearence: Michael has long, unkempt blond hair, darkened to an almost brown colour from years of dirt and grease, and brown eyes. He doesn't shave often, leaving his facial hair as anywhere from a knotted mess all over the lower half of his face to a greasy stubble. He wears a filthy, ragged white lab coat, yellowed with age, along with a a pre-war dark green shirt and brown pants. His brahmin leather shoes appear to be quite old, and by the way they seem to have been cobbled together, it's a miracle they're still intact. He wears thin-framed reading glasses, likely stolen off a corpse at some point or another. He carries a surprisingly well-made brahmin leather satchel, which he uses to hold most of his supplies and belongings, the most prominent of which is a pre-war medical handbook that seems to have been read innumerable times. His only two weapons include a crude utility knife, made of a sharpened piece of scrap metal with tape wrapped around it to form a makeshift handle, and a worn nine-millimetre handgun.
Signifying Traits: He generally seems a bit aloof, and has a surprisingly up-beat demeanour for someone who's lived more or less alone in the wasteland for most of his life, having been able to scrape by through trickery and tactics that some might consider cowardly. He has a small Canadian flag tattooed onto his chest over where his heart is, although he can't remember where and when he got it.
Signifying Skills:Michael is a moderately competent doctor, having learned his trade from other survivors and his prized medical handbook. He has some experience with scraping together homebrew remedies from the few plants that still grow in the wasteland, but is generally much more reliable when pre-war supplies are at hand. As a side effect of living in the wasteland, he has had some experience handling small arms and knives, although he generally prefers to avoid combat altogether if possible. He is borderline psychopathic, treating strangers with about as much respect as a legionnaire treats a particularly useful slave.
S.P.E.C.I.A.L.'s:
(40 points to distribute, maxes out on 10)
Strength-3
Perception-6
Endurance-4
Charisma-6
Intelligence- 7
Agility- 5
Luck- 9
RP example:
A chilly breeze brushes over the doctor's face, waking him up from his comparatively restful slumber. For the first time in months, he had managed to come across a somewhat-intact house, with a working mattress and water and everything. Of course, last night, Michael had been so ecstatic about finding such a well-preserved hideaway that he hadn't considered the possibility that someone might already be living there. That someone, as he found out by simply rolling over, was a grimy man holding a gun up to his head, someone who, thankfully, did not look like a raider.
The gentleman spoke, never moving his finger off of the trigger: "Mornin'. Care to explain why you're in my house?"
"Well, it was a nice house, and you weren't in it last night, so I figured it was empty... Care to explain why you're holding a gun to my head?"
The armed homeowner frowned slightly at Michael's retort, poking him brusquely with the end of the pistol. "Way I see it, I'm entirely within my rights. This is my house, and that means I get to do what I want. So, why don't you try and give me a reason why I shouldn't just blow your head off and take whatever it is you've got in that bag there?"
"For starters, I'm a doctor. I can... Fix wounds, and all that stuff. Furthermore, there's nothing of any real value in the bag, so I'm probably not even worth the bullet. Well, there is the one thing... But that's only valuable to me." Michael glances fearfully at his bag, still placed exactly where he had left it last night, at the foot of the bed, on the ground.
The stranger, apparently a man of greater greed than bloodlust, took the obvious bait and went for the bag. Michael, clearly a man of greater self-preservation instincts than mercy, went for the hand-made utility knife he kept in the interior of his coat. Shortly after, knife met flesh, and yet another otherwise innocent soul departed the wasteland for a better place, leaving behind his pistol and home to his recently-declared next of kin, one Dr. Michael Yass.
Biography:
Originally hailing from Ronto, an area that is to some known as the ruins of a major ex-Canadian city called Toronto, Michael Yass was likely born under a much different name, probably to scavenger or settler parents. Regardless, most of his early life has been literally beaten out of him over time, due to an unfortunate tendency to get hit over the head whenever he encountered raiders or other survivors. Doctor Yass has spent most of his life wandering the wastes between major cities, and has been as far north as the ruins of Montreal, as far west as The Pitt, and as far south as the Capital Wasteland over the course of the ten years or so he's spent wandering. Miraculously, despite the fact that he likely should have died several times over by now, he has managed to weasel his way out of every life-threatening situation he's been in, oftentimes by using his relative medical proficiency and literacy as a bargaining chip of sorts, but more often then not though sheer lucky coincidence: On more than one occasion, his life has been saved by local brotherhood of steel paladins or vigilantes who happened to decide to attack the raiders shortly before his gruesome demise. Over his life, he has developed into somewhat of a doctor, having at one point found a mostly-intact pre-war military-issue medical handbook, which he has all but memorised, and considers to be his most valuable possession, and on several occasions taking time to learn from others how to assemble makeshift medical supplies from common ingredients. Exactly why he is in manhattan is debatable, although it's more than likely that he simply stumbled across the area while wandering the wastes.
I have read the rules again, as you asked.
Define Meta Gaming: Meta Gaming is when you know things that your never found out about in the game. An example of this would be knowing where a hidden chest is based on what you read on the internet, without you finding it out in-game using your character.
Define Power Gaming: Power Gaming is when your character has some sort of overpowered ability that shouldn't be obtainable. For example, jumping eighty feet in the air and being fine once you hit the ground.
By the way, you said my Meta Gaming definition was off, but based on past accepted posts, my definition is correct. I don't mean to correct you, I am just pointing it out. I fixed my Power Gaming definition though. It was quite wrong. I would like to ask you to read the rest of my original post for my roleplay example and biography, as here it would do nothing but clutter up your thread.
As I said in my application, if this is not satisfactory to you, please tell me what I should change.
Accepted
The only condition is that you don't have the power gaming traits of "genetic cell reproduction" or the stomach thing. I'm not sure what you mean by breeding, but i'll just have to assume its power gaming as it makes him the perfect survivor Anyway, Lost Day's is also not canon on our servers lore. So a lot of those events will not happen, or have happened in RP. By the way, our server takes place in 2290.
Denied
Your OOC was why i denied you. You need to reread the rules, and meta gaming definition was off by a bit.
Accepted
It was a very good application! Feel free to add me on skype, username: Dualmittens.
Have a great day!
You need to post the whole application once more. Thanks ahead of time!
In terms of the power gaming aspects of "genetic cell reproduction" and the stomach thing, it's not power gaming so much as just useful. An example of the cell thing... if Mane got a cut on his arm, it wouldn't instantly heal or anything silly. It would just heal perhaps one or two days quicker than the average human. In terms of eating things not fit for human consumption, that was more a reference to Mane's addiction to Radscorpian glands and his ability to stomach things like that. Also, in hindsight, "perfect survivor" was the wrong term. "Better survivor" is more accurate.
-Mane Tenebras AKA lilfreddie
My friends call me Triple... but you can call me Jane, for all I care.
Eh. Good enough. I never noticed you power gaming when we RP'ed. Feel free to message me on skype, and we can talk more.
Thanks everyone for the support, and i hope you apply soon.
Everything is wrong, nothing can be fixed.
You can't really. By not putting nearly any effort into the application, you had shown what kind of roleplaying person you are. And its exactly the kind we don't want. I will not hold your hand through the application process, and i'd recommend you attempt another server. Not this one.
I'm sorry for your being denied, however, its for the best of the server and its RP quality.
Goodbye.
~Dualmittens
Obviously i know these things. But months of applications have set wisdom to me, and i can tell when an applicant has potential, by them at least trying to make a story, compared to the people who just want on a server. I'm full and well willing to help train any new Rp'ers, but i want to see them put effort into an application. He wasn't denied because it was bad. He was denied because he didn't even try, and if he did, he would have put more than 3 sentences in any given area.
You can make a ghoul character, feel free. We do have hero chat, but as for a /roll plugin, i will look into.
The year is 2290, and just read the BoS lore, as it covers most events up to the long island server. Of course, we will soon post Long Island lore, when its fully redone. Thanks for asking questions, and i can't wait to see your application!
OOC -
IGN: DgtheGreat
Gender: Male
Age: 16
Have you read the rules: Yes, I have. I'm moderately frugal.
Have you read the lore: I have read the lore included in this thread. I know a huge amount about Fallout lore itself.
RP Expierence: Multiple Minecraft role-playing servers, Garry's Mod (Half Life Roleplay), DayZ (Survivor roleplay), ArmA 3 (Stratis Life roleplay servers).
Fallout Expierence: Fallout One, Fallout Two, Fallout Three (All DLC's), Fallout: New Vegas (All DLC's). Over 400 hours in Fallout 3, and 92 hours in Vegas.
Define Meta Gaming: Meta Gaming is when you know things that your never found out about in the game. An example of this would be knowing where a hidden chest is based on what you read on the internet, without you finding it out in-game using your character.
Define Power Gaming: Power Gaming is when your character has some sort of overpowered ability that shouldn't be obtainable. For example, jumping eighty feet in the air and being fine once you hit the ground.
IC -
Name: Joshua Rasberry
Gender: Male
Age: 37
Race: Caucasian (Tan)
Appearance: 5' 11", Dark Brown hair, cut short. Wears an American adaptation of Chinese Stealth Armor used in the Great War. Slender build, but he has both good stamina and strength. Extremely light blue eyes, as if they are steel grey. They change colors occasionally.
Signifying Traits: Talkative to those close to him, but is wary around strangers. Moderately deep, soothing voice, that calms those he is talking to. Has a freckle to the top right of his upper lip.
Signifying Skills: Sneaky, charismatic (good liar), smart, improviser. Josh's stealth armor does nothing but help his already potent skill of sneaking around. When confronted, he can easily get out of the situation by using a mix of trickery, lies, and bullets. Josh isn't the smartest man on post-war Earth, but he knows his way around computers and other machines very well.
S.P.E.C.I.A.L.'s:
(40 points to distribute, maxes out on 10)
Strength- 5
Perception-6
Endurance- 7
Charisma- 8
Intelligence- 6
Agility- 6
Luck-2 (Josh doesn't believe in luck)
As Joshua closes the door, he is now faced with almost impenetrable silence. He notices his breathing. In, and out. In, and out. Suddenly, there is an abrupt *CLANK* on the tiled metal floor. Boots. Definitely boots. Another clank, followed by another. He looks to his right, comforted by the friendly face near him. He's always been able to rely on Conner. As Joshua reaches in to his pocket, he pulls out his .45 pistol. A silencer, about 4 inches long, is fixed to the end of the barrel.
"Let's see if this thing actually works," Josh says to Conner.
"It should. Even though this is a different caliber, there shouldn't be any real difference."
"Let's hope so."
"I switch my silencer between my 9 and my 45 all the time; it'll be fine."
Josh turns his gun around the wall, his arms pressed against the inside of the door as he turns his body on a mental pivot. He pulls the trigger as soon as the iron sights match up with the solder.
One bullet, on kill. The soldier drops.
Thump.
"You would think," says Conner "that it would be harder to sneak on to Fort Lewis. I mean, normally a military base would be heavily guarded, right?"
"Let's just thank the Lord that it ISN'T guarded. There, take his rifle. I'm sure it will be useful."
Conner picks up the assault rifle with awe.
"This is the first time I've ever held an advanced gun like this before..."
"Isn't she a beauty? Four hundred years of American tweaking and revolutionizing, and this is what we have to show for it."
"Make sure," Josh says sternly, "that you don't shoot unless they see us. Okay?"
"Okay." Conner responds.
The friends walk up to the next steel door.
"It's locked," Conner says.
"Not for long!" Josh responds with enthusiasm as he picks up a pack of C4 explosives. He packs it on the door, and the two hide behind the wall bordering the room they came from and where they currently are.
An extremely loud explosion is met with both boys' ears ringing. The door is gone, and the two can easily see in to the next room
"Wow! Look at this!" Conner exclaims in excitement
"Ughh.. My head hurts from that bla-" Josh stops mid-sentence to look up at the most beautiful thing that he's ever seen.
"What do you suspect that is, Josh?"
"It... I don't know. I'll try it on."
Josh takes the suit of black armor off of the stand it was so proudly displayed on. In it's orange visor he can see his own face.
His hand slips, by accident hitting a white button on the built-in Pip-Boy.
"WHOA! What just happened!" Josh says in surprise
"It.. Disappeared! I see it, but it's, like, invisible!"
"Umm, I, umm, I'm going to put it on."
Josh slips his feet into the armor. His legs easily get into it, along with his upper body. It fits absolutely perfectly. He pulls the visor down over his face, leaving him looking like he is in some sort of space suit. Josh fiddles with the dials and buttons until he figures out how to turn on the stealth mode again.
"This is amazing... This is so amazing... There is no way this can be real. Conner, am I dreaming? Are we dreaming?"
"No, Josh. No. Let's just get what we can and get out of here. I don't want-"
Gunshot. Josh, still in stealth, turns to see a 7.62 bullet fly across the room. It misses Conner by a fraction of an inch. Josh ducks down under a table, but Conner simply stares at the soldier. He pulls the trigger once more. A second feels like a minute. The bullet flies. It penetrates. Inside the victims head, the military grade bullet tumbles, leaving his brain in mush. No time to think. Must act.
Josh points his gun at the man, his eyes widen at the sight of a seemingly floating gun. He has no reaction time. Two bullets through his body armor, and he's down.
"Please... No... I was..." the man breaths heavily. He has two holes in his body armor, but neither bullet hit a vial organ. He should live.
"They'll kill me... They'll kill me! NO! Don't take it! Please... No... I..." his voice fades into senseless mumbling.
Josh turns to his fallen ally. Dead. Cold and hard. Dead, never to breath again. Never to bask in sunlight, feel the cool rush of water, and never to have the pleasure of being with Josh. He's gone, never to return.
He walks over to the man, still breathing heavy. Josh slowly points the gun at the man's only exposed point, below his head. As Josh pushes the gun into the bottom of his chin, the soldier moves his head back.
"Please..."
One quick, sharp, sound. A 'pew' of sorts. The man is gone now, just like his friend. Perhaps if he had talked to them a better end would have came out of this.
Josh knows what he has to do. He has to leave. He turns stealth mode off. Josh takes the dead soldier's assault rifle, and the ammunition off of Conner and both soldiers. He finds several .45 magazines and a better silencer on a shelf in the back of the room.
He opens the door, .45 in it's holster assault rifle in his hands. He walks straight, not moving any part of his body but his legs. His face is straight, and it's fixed in an expression of hate.
"Hey! You! Stop, there!"
A soldier turns to walk up to Josh.
"Oh, sorry. Let me give you my ID."
The soldier drops his gun and puts it behind his back to check what he thinks is Josh's ID card.
Joshua pulls his .45 out, shoots him in the abdomen, moves up, shoots him under his chin. The man falls to the ground.
Thump.
Stealth mode on, Josh speeds up to a jog, then a run. Around the building, to the wall. The same wall where Conner cut the power wire so they could jump over it without being electrocuted. Josh climbs the wall and runs in to the forest, presumably safe from the soldiers at the base.
The only base. The only base with missile interceptors lined on the outside. Eighty of them, lined perfectly to defend from anything a country dumb enough to attack might throw at it.
Josh slows back down to walking speed. He fiddles with the Pip-Boy until he finds some information about the suit and it's origins.
Supposedly it's Chinese stealth armor, used in the Great War. The owner of one was killed, and his armor taken. With the Chinese variant of the Pip-Boy taken out, and the newest version of American assistance equipment was installed. The suit comes complete with a backwards American flag on the shoulder.
It's backwards because America has never lost a war, but have we now? Did we win this war? There are no winners in an atomic war says the wise man, but I say nay.
All are winners in a nuclear war. We simply finished the inevitable before it happened later. Because; war?
War never changes.
Josh was raised in Washington. Tacoma, Washington.
Born December 10, 2253.
His past family, originally from both Tennessee and Arkansas, still keep their Southern traditions and morals. From times past, his ancestors were from England, Scotland and Russia. His family had members that fought in every war the United States had. From World War One, to Vietnam, to assisting France in the Euro-Middle Eastern war, to the Great War. His great, great, grandfather earned a Medal of Honor in Saudi Arabia when he saved four companies of Germans and French from a nuclear weapon by defusing the bomb himself, with no backup. He died shortly after defusing the weapon. Several Saudi soldiers came into the room, saw his American flag, and shot. They were simply following the rules of war. Josh held no grudge, he barely even knew his great grandfather. Or his papa. Or father. All had died before Josh had the chance to really know them.
When he was still quite young, his family's bunker in Tacoma was raided. After the placed bomb went off, his home was left in tattered ruins. He hid in an air vent. Josh's entire family, along with his six and two year old sisters, were killed. He showed no sadness.
Josh simply opened his safe, took his M1911, took a box of ammo, put on his clothes and pack and left.
It was a surprise when Josh, on his way out of the irradiated city, found Conner (his best friend) with a group of ragtag potheads with pistols.
Josh convinced Conner to leave the group and come with him, which is good, because Josh and Conner later found the group of four dead with a Yai guai standing over them, seeming as if was guarding their corpses. The two easily shot the beast and looted the men.
They both decided to go to Joint Base Lewis McChord to see if any help was available. They went there only to be yelled at and threatened by guards at the gate. It was protected by about twenty soldiers and a tank. There's no way they were getting through there. The two went went around the base and found their way in. Inside, Josh lost his friend but made a new one.
His stealth armor.
After loosing his friend, he wandered from place to place, group to group. At one time he was even part of a city. Sadly, it was overrun by attacks by both raiders and Super Mutants.
One day, he was met by a group of about six. They were making a caravan to the East Coast. Josh was promised riches and adventure, so how could he deny? The group, for three months, made their way to Massachusetts. At first by car, then Brahman. Their car broke down when some dumb ghouls messed up the car while the group was drinking.
Eventually, they made their way to Massachusetts. They also found their way to the Pitt, as it was called.
Josh would have never survived if it weren't for one group...
The Enclave.
Enclave soldiers rescued Josh just in time, but sadly, his caravan partners did not make it out alive. They told him great stories of how powerful they were, and they told him of other great factions, like Talon Company and the Brotherhood of Steel. They took him to Raven rock, their headquarters.
Once Joshua got there, they tested his blood for contaminants. They did comprehensive tests on him. He was found to be clean.
So the Enclave took him in as one of their own.
President Richardson, **** Richardson, that is, gave Josh everything he wanted and more. Food, water, action, adventure, the list goes on and on. Great friends were made, and even greater relationships were formed between Josh and some of the female staff.
Everything was perfect until the order came in. Two platoons of Enclave soldiers, including Josh, would be deployed to Manhattan. New York? Gone. Nothing but rubble. Manhattan was the only supposed area standing within 100 miles of New York.
The group of fifty men arrived at their destination. They lost one man, but only to him falling off of a cliff. He fell asleep when he was supposed to be on watch. Even the most advanced armor on Earth can't protect you from a 300 foot fall. Josh felt sorry for the poor guy. Private Michaels was his name. Josh was not close friends with him, but he still knew him from the chats they would have on break.
There is no way the group would have suffered only one loss without the help of Josh and his stealth suit. He snuck up behind enemies and killed their leaders. He planted bombs. Boom, pow, thump, dead.
He was unstoppable. Josh earned multiple ribbons and medals from the Enclave high command.
His group was unstoppable. Heavy laser cannons, laser rifles, technology only read about in books. Vertibirds. Josh knew the name of each and every soldier with him by the end of his journey.
The group arrived at Manhattan. They were greeted by the Brotherhood of Steel.
Rockets, explosions, fire.
Vertibird down, Vertibird down! Alpha alpha, charlie golf delta, niner niner three!
Sargent Rondalds, pilot.
Private Bond, gunner.
Private Ramirez, gunner.
Sargent McMillain, amputated leg.
All dead.
Foot soldiers hit by the downed Vertibird. Foot soldiers hit by Brotherhood bullets. Foot soldiers hit by Enclave lasers. Panic, suppression, running, suppression, running some more, suppression. Casualties. Death. Dead. Gone.
Josh has stealth mode on. Three soldiers, Brown, Marcus, and Miranda are following him. They can see his M1911 strapped to his side. Sargent Rasberry is the highest ranking person these people know is alive. The captain is dead. the lieutenant is dead. Private Marcus gets hit in the arm. Twice. He dies.
The group ambushes four unaware brotherhood soldiers. No casualties.
Brown, Miranda, and Rasberry move around the enemies' front lines, flanking them. They kill five more brotherhood soldiers, including a heavy gunner.
Miranda is down, I repeat, Miranda is down. Leave him. We don't need him. Two goodbyes, and the two walk away. He bleeds out.
"Should we just leave?" says Brown, "I mean, they outnumber us far too much. They ambushed us. They have the upper hand... And I-"
"Shut up, will you, Brown?"
"Really sir, we need to leave." Brown looks into the invisible visor where he knows Josh's eyes are. Joshua sees that he is scared, and he wants out. He feels the same way.
"Okay. We leave. We can check back here tomorrow," Joshua says.
"Thank God..."
The two leave through the forest. One more brotherhood soldier spotted, and one more brotherhood soldier dead, on the ground. He shot, but missed Josh. The two loot his body. More ammunition for both of them, a candy bar, and a picture.
The man had a wife and a child. How sad that he had to go.
"Perhaps if he was on the right side we wouldn't have to have killed him," Brown says
Brown and Rasberry walk to a large tree and collapse on to it. It's one in the morning.
It's the next day. Josh yawns and stretches his hands to the sky.
"Wake up, Brown... We need to get out of here."
No answer.
The soldier didn't miss. Brown was hit in his neck. He bled out in his sleep without even knowing it.
"No, no, no... This isn't happening... Not again..." Josh says as he hits his head on the tree he slept on, and Brown died on.
The tree Henry Brown, Private, with the Enclave five years, died upon. He had a girlfriend back at Raven Rock. A scientist, and a pretty one at that.
Josh gets up, knowing that a new chapter to his life has just been opened. He walks with power. With might. He opens his visor, and looks at the world without an Amber tint.
Grey. Brown. Dead.
What does Manhattan look like, one may ask?
Grey. Dark. Dead.
What do the trees look like, one may ask?
Grey. Dark. Dead.
Joshua, after going through trial after trial, has a different pigment in his skin.
Grey.
Dark.
Dead.
I hope that you enjoyed my stories. I know plenty about Fallout lore, and some Saturdays I would just spend reading on the Fallout Wiki. The world of Fallout is so amazingly interesting to me. I love role playing, too. I especially love the Enclave. It's a shame that you couldn't join them in Fallout 3.
Best regards,
Joshua Rasberry
IGN: stev_med
Gender: male
Age: 20
Have you read the rules: yes frugal stuff and whatnot
Have you read the lore: yes
RP Expierence: been on a bunch of fallour rp servers such as sins of the father and the vault rp to name a few, i also rped in the mmos swtor and swg
Fallout Expierence: fallout 3 and new vegas
Define Meta Gaming: using ooc knowledge in character
Define Power Gaming: useing overpowers abilities to force rp onto other. IE trying to kill someone off without their concent.
IC -
Name: Tresk
Gender: m
Age: 20
Race: human
Appearence: ruined closes with rainbow dyed hair
Signifying Traits: stutters while talking, rainbow hair, kind
Signifying Skills: scavenging, pistols, lockpicking (good with his hands basically)
S.P.E.C.I.A.L.'s:
(40 points to distribute, maxes out on 10)
Strength- 4
Perception- 5
Endurance- 5
Charisma- 8
Intelligence- 7
Agility- 5
Luck- 6
Taged skills: Pistols, lockpicking, survival.
RP example
Setting: Slaver camp
Tresk: *slowly starts to wake up with a bandage on his head* w-what h-happened why d-does my head hurt so d-dam much?
Slave: *sad tone* You were captured by slavers, see that collar around your neck it will explode if you try to leave the area, sorry man. We bandaged your head when you arrived they must have hit you pretty hard eh?
Tresk: Man I-I have a massive headache and w-what is up with my voice w-why can't i-i stop st-stuttering?
Slave: Must be a side effect from the had trauma hun by the way my names Sunny.
Tresk: I-I got to g-get out of h-here my family must be w-worried!
Sunny: The only way out of here hun is if you are bought or you die. *frowns*
*Tresk tries to look around for a way to escape starting to panic*
Sunny: I told you hun there is no way out my advice is to sit quietly and to not off the guards, trust me.
Tresk: N-no i-i can't i have to get back to m-my family!
Sunny: Don't worry hun just sit and make the best of it....
Biography
Background
Life story
Early life
Tresk was born in a small farming community near the florida coastline. He was a middle son of 7 brothers and sisters. Due to being the youngest he endured hardships from his older sibleings who played jokes on him. His older brothers and sisters always working with his parents on the families ranch. He helped worked growing crops that had minimal exposure to radition useing local purified water. While doing his chores he learned basic farming skills and how to recognized good crops for deadly ones. His family made caps and a living by selling and trading their crops to caravanas traveling along the coastline. While young he always loved it when the traders came by to his area where they would tell stories of the travels they have made and the sights they have seen. One evening he heard a tale from a trader who spoke of an island way to the north. This land was old and had buildings that reached the heavens. He spoke of longlost treasures from a forgoten time and the secret dangers that lurked in the shadows. He knew that one day he would venture out and find these secrets.
Teens
Tresk always loved exploreing the area around his home but one day he ventured too far off his families property. While searching an abandoned ranch house out in the wastes. He was too busy being distracted trying to pick the lock in home to hear more people enter the house. The poeple who came in were slavers. Tresk finally finished picking the lock as the slavers entered the room he was in. Once the spotted him they attacked and even though he fought back trying to defend himself one slaver struck a large blow to his head causing him to pass out. He was tossed into a cart and was brought northward to the slavers base.
When he awake he was in a slave pen in an unknown region of the wastes. He found that his head was wrapped in old clothing and that a colar was placed around his neck. Scared and frightened he tried to escape but failed due to the surrounding fense. The others in the pen attempted to calm him down cause the slavers would beat anyone who tried anything funny. When he was finally calm and tried to speak he realized he could no longer speak normally and stuttered over his words. He continues this habit to today. Latter on he was finally sold to a caravan trader who took pity in this young lad and could use a hand with his caravan. The trader who bought his treated him with respect, kindness, and tought him how to be a successful caravan worker. The collar was removed shortly after the purchase with the option for him to leave but he decided to stay with the trader. He learned much from the trader and was trained in ways to defend himself by the guard the trader employed.
One day after a few years the trader traveled with his caravan back to Tresks hometown and he was finally reunited with his family. He Spent a good while working back on the farm and enjoying his families company and his time home. During a harse winter food and money was growing scarse and his family had to try to think of ways to earn some more caps. Tresk came up with an idea to travel north to the land that the trader told him of in his youth. He set out to head north along the coast to find this strange land and send back riches for his family to live off of.
Young adult
Today he has ventured north from his coastal family home in Florida along the coast out to find treasures to send home to his town. Along his journy he has seen many unique places and people living near the waters. He saw small wandering tribes who craft unique weapons, clothing and untilities. He spent time and told stories with the tribels who lead him to see new places. One of his favorite stops was a newly recovered and operational nuka cola factory that sold carbinated nuka to caravans. The further north he traveled the more he heard stories of the island filled with large buildings and treaures and lost technologies from the past and where to keep heading. Knowing of the grand potential to find new wonders he kept following the coast until he could finally see the tall buildings on the horizon. He finally reached the land he heard as a child and now he has his sights set at fortune. Who and what did he find on the island well i do not want to spoil the suprise so please stay tuned to find out!