Denied! App isn't... terrible. But it needs some work. If your character was born before the flooding he would be at least sixty years, closer to eighty if he was in college at the time. Edit the backstory and fix these sort of things.
Last-minute character changes sure are fun, because I'm an indecisive person. Original (accepted) app can be found here with OOC and such.
Name:
David Jakobs
Age:
32
Gender:
Male
Ethnicity:
Caucasian
Place of Birth:
United Union
Defining characteristics and physical appearance:
David is tall and lean, with dark hair and eyes. He has an almost-omnipresent frown, and dresses in pants and a long jacket to keep out of the sea breezes. As far as personality goes, David is naturally suspicious of most people, and his tone is marked by dry sarcasm and wit that he uses often. He is intelligent enough but also stubborn, quick to anger and quick to calm. Generally he's friendly enough to people if not particularly outgoing, and does not hold grudges. I'm still just as bad at descriptions as I was in the last application.
Strengths and Weaknesses:
Strengths:
- Physically fit
- Decent shot with firearms
- Good sailor
- Doesn't forget his old shipmates
Weaknesses:
- Abrasive
- Semi-afraid of open water (Great for being on a boat, huh? Thank Cthulhu Jesus that it's such a big ship.)
- Stubborn
- Something of a "recovering" alcoholic
Does your character own property on the ship? If so, what kind:
A modest room with a bed, desk and a strongbox which contains an old pistol and a few bullets.
Background Story (At least two quality paragraphs):
David Jakobs was born in the United Union to a reasonably well-off family who had lived in the Rocky Mountains and thus were not too horribly affected by the calamities that had enveloped the planet. He received as good an education as one could expect post-apocalypse, and by large didn't have to worry about malnourishment or disease like so many in the refugee camps did.
However, the United Union was clearly going downhill even then, devolving into castes and prejudice. After one year in which crop harvests were particularly bad and everyone went hungry more nights than not, David's family started to work on leaving the mountains. Rumors came swirling on the decks of rescue boats that there was some great haven of liberty to the northeast in Greenland, and so the family sold or bartered what they had left for food and a boat and set off.
It was a rough voyage, as one might expect from a family of three piloting a fishing vessel across thousands of miles of cold water. After only a couple of weeks, at which point tensions were high and food was already dwindling, the family was picked up by a much larger rescue boat out of Greenland -- the USS Defiance, they called themselves. The rest of the trip north was much less dangerous if more eventful, and eventually the destination was reached. While it perhaps was not everything that the rumors had called it, Greenland was still a functioning nation in a much better sense than the United Union had been, and so David and his family came to be satisfied with the place.
Once he reached eighteen, David enlisted in Greenland's peacekeeping forces to get out of the refugee camp in which he had at this point spent half his life, where he went to work patrolling the streets and the coasts by foot and by boat. It was rough work but fulfilling enough, and David took to it as a drowning man might take to a life preserver. He grew fond of the nation he had come to serve and the people he served with, and found pride in his duty.
This changed for some time when after a good decade of service, the boat David was on went down in a storm a hundred miles off the coast, in the middle of winter. For four days he clung onto an emergency raft -- by the time someone found him and a few of his surviving comrades, all of them had nearly died of thirst and hypothermia. From that point on David developed something of a healthy respect for the ocean, preferring to keep his feet on solid land. He turned to alcohol eventually, drinking away his sorrows -- and his paycheck -- after shifts. After a few years of this, David was discharged from the peacekeeping forces; not as many were needed with fewer refugees coming in every year, and alcoholics with a fear of the water were needed even less in a world with little beer and plenty of ocean.
This discharge shocked David to his core. After all, he'd spent all of his adult life a peacekeeper, and so to be told that he was no longer needed as one came as quite a surprise indeed. For a few months he ran odd jobs before a sudden memory came into his head: A boy and his family being rescued off of a dented fishing boat, the big block letters painted on the side of an aircraft carrier. David did his best to set aside his drink and his fears, and enlisted to join the crew of the USS Defiance, hoping to find a job in security -- or, perhaps, tending a bar.
Rp Scenario (Two paragraphs, any scenario you'd like)
It was two o'clock AM exactly, on the dot, when the alarm blared. David had had three hours of rough sleep since he had finished his ship, and now here was an emergency. He sat up groggily, not understanding what was going on. A few moments later, he was rocked off of his bunk by a huge wave. Groaning and muttering curses, he stumbled to his feet and up onto the deck, clinging to the wall in case of another huge wave.
On deck, things were even worse. Most of the crew were busy bailing water that was sloshing onto the deck with each wave. Just as David was about to speak, a huge crack of lightning crashed into the ocean not a hundred feet away. Shortly afterwards, the sky was split by a blast of thunder. Looking into the sky and the murky, freezing water on deck, David knew what was going on.
They were sinking.
With no time to spare he grabbed a bailing bucket and joined the others in throwing water back where it belonged. For every bucketful they removed, however, ten times as much sloshed onboard after each wave rocked the boat. One that was particularly large sent David, still groggy, slamming into the ship's rail. He dropped his bucket and clung as the ship continued to rock, emptying his stomach into the ocean. Behind him, voices from what must have only been a few feet away might as well have come from the shore.
"We're taking water!"
"As if I hadn't noticed. The captain's trying to get us out. Keep bailing!"
"Get Jakobs up from the rail and shove another bucket into his hand."
David was gotten up from the rail and returned to bailing. This cycle seemed murky as a bad dream, and yet it continued for another half-hour longer. But then a huge wave, taller than the ship and twice as wide, slammed into the vessel --
And the world started to beep. Cursing and covered in cold sweat, David fumbled to shut off his alarm clock and rose, looking blearily at his apartment. To have a dream like that the day before getting back on a ship was bad luck, but of course those dreams came every night, and David Jakobs was no stranger to bad luck.
What role-playing experience do you have?: Although I’ve only had minimal experience roleplaying in minecraft, I’ve gotten together with friends to play things like Dungeons & Dragons and can say I’m pretty good at getting and staying in character.
Why did you choose us?: Something new and interesting, that hasn’t even quite started yet, so that I can actually feel like I have an impact other than jumping into a predesigned world.
IC:
Name: Austin Major
Age: 19
Gender: Male
Ethnicity: On his mother’s side, Austin’s great grandparents are from Venezuela and Colombia, and on his father’s side his great grandparents are from Italy. All 8 of his great grandparents immigrated to the US. He knows Italian and Spanish.
Place of Birth: Ashens, a mid-sized city in the United Union, with a large upper class population. September 2061
Defining characteristics and physical appearance: Austin likes being called Aust. Due to Aust’s familial background, his skin color is a lovely olive sort of tan. He’s got no particular accent, one that can be described as “mid-western”. Generally, he’s a short dude, being about 5 foot 8 inches in old United Union terms. He’s always cared about looking good, and so he’s a generally muscular, well toned guy. He’s got dark hair and eyes, that are bright brown in the light, but otherwise are often mistaken for black. He goes from short hair to almost medium before cutting it. He tries his best to wear nice clothing on a normal day, and fixes his hair to look good most mornings. He is a huge bookworm.
Strengths and Weaknesses: Austin is very intelligent, having grown up in a nice house with a library. He will do anything to get his hands on a book, which can lead him into dangerous situations. Although he has a muscular build, he has awful reflexes. He can catch a normal sized ball, most of the time and small objects some of the time. He is a “for the greater good” type of person, which sounds good in theory but in practice it creates enemies. He is extremely loyal to his closest friends, which can cause him to do bad things to other people for the sake of his friends.
Does your character own property on the ship? If so, what kind: Because Austin came from a wealthy family, he owns a sizable medium-large room on the ship, in which he spends quite a bit of his time reading.
Background Story (At least two quality paragraphs): Born in September 1961, Austin was raised in the upper class area of Ashens. Although due to world situations, he couldn’t get anything he wanted. Lucky for him, he really just wanted books, which for some reason lowered in value when people stopped caring about them. He always had maids and servants around, there to do whatever he pleased, but unlike some of his friends and siblings, he didn’t bother them too much, and wound up making friends with some of them. Whenever he had visited one of the “friends” his parents set him up with, the friend would do nothing interesting and tend to break things and mess with their servants.
But one day, around the age of 14, while visiting Timothy, one of the boys he was forced to spend time with most, he overheard Timothy’s parents talking about the Defiance. “We’ll do trade with them because we have to, but our boy will not be let near that damned ship”. Over the next few weeks, Austin began discreetly asking about the fabled Defiance. He didn’t get many answer until he asked the servants. They told wonderful tales of freedom and adventure and escape. Whenever it was brought up to his parents they furious asked where he heard about it and never to mention it again. After a few years he heard of the boat again. It was coming. He took a sizable amount of his parents money from the family vault, stuffed his favorite books into a chest, and made an escape with some of the servants.
Rp Scenario (Two paragraphs, any scenario you'd like):
The escape group has been wandering for days. They’ve been lost, hungry, and it seems like they’ve been making no progress. Two of their companions have already died along the way, one from an injury, and the other from the hunters coming after them.
Martha points off at some lights in the distance. Although it is dark, you can still make out her grin. “Do you see that, Aust? I think that’s it”. She speeds up, still crouching to hide from any search party.
Austin looks around nervously. “Stay quiet we can’t get caught”.
A gunshot rings out, as Carlos, one of the members of their group, falls. The others do not check if he is dead, but run.
Dragging along their trunks to the ship is a long and arduous process. The others have fallen, and Martha and Austin are the only ones left. Another gunshot rings out.
Martha looks over at Austin, bleeding from her shoulder. “Don’t stop, keep going, and remember, don’t forget your old shipmates”.
Austin helps her along, carrying both of their trunks. “Martha you have helped me out for all these years and I am not having you die when we’re both almost free.”
They make it to the ship, ready to start a new life.
Accepted! Welcome aboard. It's a decent app, though your requested lodgings /might/ not work out fully. Send me your Skype name if you're interested in joining the public chat.
What role-playing experience do you have?: During breaks from school, I’ve gathered with friends to play Dungeons and Dragons weekly and sometimes biweekly.
Why did you choose us?: My friend recommended me to you, and I enjoy the idea of being able to exist in a server that’s just beginning to grow its roots.
Skype Name (Optional for Group Chat): matthew.private
IC:
Name: Enbur Pelonüt
Age: 15
Gender: Male
Ethnicity: Arabic
Place of Birth: A small mass of land that used to be part of America, now a relatively isolated island. Residents have lost track of where exactly it originated from, but have named it Pelonüt Isle.
Defining characteristics and physical appearance: Enbur has caramel skin, and messy brown hair of indeterminate shape. It is generally long, covering his forehead and the back of his neck, but will stick up wherever, whenever, and however it pleases. He is somewhat short, but still surpasses his parents in stature. Much to his dismay, Enbur is quite thin, and seems to remain at a constant weight no matter his diet or exercising habits. He can often be quite stuck-up due to having a position of power over his birth island at such a young age, but still attempts to be a good person, mostly because he is aware that he could be easily overthrown.
Strengths and Weaknesses: Enbur is scrawny, and has trouble hitting very hard, but is nimble enough to flee from danger if absolutely necessary. As mentioned before, he can be a bit snobbish, but understands when it may be less than wise to speak his mind. Because he probably couldn’t take a hit, he can usually lie his way out of one.
Does your character own property on the ship? If so, what kind: As he was only rich on the standards of his island, but resides in the middle class by everyone else’s standards, Enbur owns an average-sized room, though he is sometimes seen sulking around the more luxurious living spaces.
Background Story (At least two quality paragraphs):
HEY! Before you click this spoiler, the forum editor severely messed up the story's formatting. If you would like to see it in the state that it was meant to be viewed in (recommended with my writing style), follow this link to view it on Google Docs. (Will open in a new window)
2064 is the year that the Defiance first graced the miniscule Pelonüt isle with an offer previously spoken aloud to Lady Pelonüt in only her dreams.
“Do you wish to come aboard our ship?”
In the time elapsed between the question’s beginning and end, Lady Pelonüt had experienced a vast range of feelings, starting with hope for a change in the same monotonous way of living, and then crashing down with realization. She did not speak, but simply looked at the growing lump in her belly and shook her head solemnly.
“Maybe next year, aye?” the crew member reassured, and gave Lady Pelonüt a sad look, before a loud yet distant Oi, don’t forget yer old shipmates! was heard and they were ready to set sail again. And Lady Pelonüt had thus made her first sacrifice for her son.
Then the waiting began. One year became two, and three, and then four. Lady Pelonüt had given birth, and what parts of her life that weren’t committed to waiting were devoted to little Enbur Pelonüt. Unbeknownst to the child, he would inherit leadership of all of Pelonüt Isle, and a great sum of wealth, or at least what the small island considered to be a great sum of wealth. Enbur’s father had died soon after Lady Pelonüt’s pregnancy was made public, and so as soon as she passed, her son would gain the wealth of both parents. He was never looking forward to his only parent’s death, but at least when he fell to the ground and wailed to the heavens, at least a stack of money would keep him from scraping his knees. Interestingly enough, Enbur’s mother never seemed to know exactly what happened to her husband, but she would always glance to the houses scattering the island before a gleam of sweat appeared to form at her brow that she promptly wiped away.
“You’ll be fine, Enbur,” she would reassure, but he swore he heard her add “at least until I’m dead.” once or twice, under her breath with a turned head.
It happened in the year of 2073. Today, the citizens of Pelonüt Isle speak of the Pelonüt Fire in hushed tones as they speculate the cause of the flames that burnt the island’s most luxurious household to the ground and killed Lady Pelonüt. It could have been anyone on the island, and it became difficult to determine specific suspects when every one of them had similar motives. Even the young child, only eight years old, could not have been ruled out when they found him crying alone, facing a wall and holding a note that read “IT’S ALL MY FAULT” over and over. He had been practicing his writing, he said when he was questioned, and wrote what he was feeling. His mother said he needed to work on his handwriting so he could be as good as all of the other eight-year-olds in the world. He didn’t even stop when the house began to glow red, because he was taught to never run through burning buildings or he may get hurt, and to always wait for the adults to help him. Enbur was a good kid, as he would reassure anyone to interrogate him, and was simply waiting for his mother to return from the kitchen so he could show her the picture he had drawn, and hoped it would be good enough to keep her from getting angry that he hadn’t been doing his work. Only she didn’t come back. She stayed in the kitchen forever and ever, even as the entire house disappeared into a pile of ash and soot.
Enbur grew up wealthy, yet he felt as though life had cheated him. A house was to be built immediately to replace the carnage that had occurred, but Enbur halted development before it began. He had taken full advantage of his power and wealth immediately, clearly knowledgeable on what he could do. For the next year and a half, island life continued with an odd discomfort in the air, as people would glance out of their windows, or look slightly to the left on their midday jog and see Enbur sitting in what used to be the area on which his home stood. Eventually, residents formed a sort of neighborhood watch on Enbur, discovering that he would leave sometimes at night to get just enough food to sustain himself, and then return to the spot in the ground that had imprints in the shape of his legs.
One day, almost a year later, something was pushed onto Enbur’s head, interrupting his mourning. A girl with long white hair and pale skin, probably about ten years old, looked nervously at him and managed to stutter out a “H-Happy birthday.” through her hands as she tried to hide her blushing face. Quickly, she ran away, leaving Enbur to remove the foreign object from his head. It was a crudely-made cone that appeared to be formed from a collection of leaves and other natural objects, attached with a string. He stared at the hat while on his knees, until finally, he stood. He did not look down towards the ground, nor past it to where the kitchen once lay. Instead, Enbur looked up, and for the first time in over a year, he noticed the leaves changing color.
Enbur had a house built for himself. Some islanders argued that a nine-year-old child should not own his own building, and most said it was unsafe for Enbur to live alone. He argued that he was quite mature for his age, and then asked if they wanted to see his drawing that he had worked so hard on. Usually the drawing did not impress anyone except the girl that had given Enbur the hat before, whom he had learned to be named Sally. In the end, no one challenged Enbur to such an extent that it mattered in the case of his living situation, and many of his outspoken critics seemed to have strangely large wallets before quieting themselves on the conflict.
Enbur enjoyed having power, but he knew what hardships it could bring. Enraged citizens may lead to dangerous situations, and Enbur would have to calm them down with as much charm as he could muster. He eventually became quite good at quelling anything that he may need to using only his charm, but some cases required a bit of financial persuasion. All in all, Enbur handled his power seemingly well, and appeared to be happy, but sometimes, Sally would visit with him when he stood in the graveyard and wetness hit the ground around his mother’s tombstone. Sally was the only one who knew that Enbur blamed himself for the death of his parents, that he assumes he made someone angry because the richest family on the island would take even more money from others to feed him. Sally was the only one who wondered what “IT’S MY FAULT” meant. Sally was the only one who would stand with him, just so she could hold his hand and tell him everything would be okay, even if she wondered herself if she was telling the truth.
Sally would sometimes sit atop Enbur’s roof, watching the sun rise and set with him, examining the stars as they began to fill the night sky. Neither of them ever said a word, they just admired nature’s work and tried to forget everything bad that had ever happened to them. Enbur had read stories about love, and he wondered if this was it. It didn’t sound like it. He didn’t want to marry Sally, or have children with her, he simply wanted to sit with her and be together. Boys and girls were so rarely just “friends” in what he had read that he wondered if it was possible sometimes, but apparently it was, and he was happy with that.
“Goodnight, Sally,” he would say when the moon was overhead, and then they would fall asleep.
Rp Scenario (Two paragraphs, any scenario you'd like)
Sally, throughout the years, helped Enbur overcome his depression and grief, simply because she was the one to tell him that everything would get better. Sally eventually became the only person he would listen to, and they seemed to venture everywhere linked together. If Enbur was out, Sally would be next to him latched onto his arm. Even into Enbur’s fifteenth birthday, they still remained closer to each other than most people had ever seen. Enbur seemed to be more charming and wear a bigger smile on his face than normal ever since he met Sally, and strife was a rarity in the island. Unfortunately, when any person no longer perceives something as a threat, they become ill-prepared for whatever happens because of it.
Realistically, though, Enbur probably couldn’t have predicted getting separated from Sally when they took their usual evening stroll, and it’s unlikely that he could have known that by the time he ran through the small crowd of people out on their own walks, that Sally would have her hand to her chest as a stab wound soaked her garments and skin. He couldn’t have known that he would feel as though he had to run to Sally and hug her as tight as she hugged him in the graveyard, as he wished that he had paid closer attention to the medical books that once lined his mother’s shelves. Despite all of this, Enbur blamed himself when Sally’s heart stopped and he could feel it against his own rib cage, just as he felt her grip slightly loosen around him.
It was the very next day that the Defiance pulled up to Pelonüt Isle and the crew member that had met his mother before assured him that “We didn’t forget about ya!” Enbur glared at him, before grabbing all the money he had with the intention of leaving the island forever, right after he visited the graveyard, which housed one more headstone than the day before. He dropped a rose with a note attached to it, which simply read “I am sorry. Goodnight, Sally.”
What role-playing experience do you have?: Fallcraft, Fallout: Wild Wasteland, Fallout: EOM, also some RP on Runescape and WoW.
Why did you choose us?: I found the idea and theme of the server to be quite interesting and with further inspection found myself wanting to join in on the fun. (And because Syvs is awesome, “Don’t forget your old shipmate”)
Skype Name (Optional for Group Chat): TheeHDGamer
IC:
Name: Xavior
Age: 19
Gender: Male
Ethnicity: Caucasian
Place of Birth: Born at sea, off the coast of Greenland.
Defining characteristics and physical appearance: Does the opposite of standing out, and favors ‘sticking to the shadows’ if you will. He has a rather slim figure and would be considered slightly shorter than others his age. Being fairly pale, with dark brown eyes and black hair, though he prefers keeping a buzz cut if possible. He would be classified as introverted; seeking isolation as oppose to being around others, but is open to doing various jobs for others that doesn't involve much interaction. Overall Xavior is meticulous, precise and almost always serious.
Strengths and Weaknesses: With his slim and shorter figure he is rather fast and nimble, allowing him to freerun in situations where it’s appropriate. He is very fond of the dark and favors it over light in most cases. He has a excellent work ethic, and gets things done even if he needs to be sly in the process. On the flip side, Xavior is a lone-wolf type which can put him in unfavorable positions at times. Being said he is pretty vulnerable in wide open spaces, in bright light, with no environment or structures to use to his advantage.
Does your character own property on the ship? If so, what kind: Not a typical room, but more so a secluded shack/closet without any light source. Almost no space to move around in with a makeshift bed and lockbox(chest) taking up a majority of the room. All he has is the clothes on his back, a pen and a book and a concealable knife.
Background Story (At least two quality paragraphs): The “S.S. Pay-Day” was the ship Xavior would come to love, but in the end hate. It was a vessel he’s lived on since birth, the only parent Xavior had was his father as his mother met an unfortunate death due to birth complications. This only made his life worse as his father was a rather serious man that focused on daily routines and would shun small talk or playing. Though taught and forced Xavior to read different types of books he gathered. But ever since the day he turned six, his father sought to bring Xavior in on daily routines. And so over time Xavior was shown the ropes with multiple skills and tasks, from crabbing to maintaining the boat. Even how to use his father’s contraption from which they received water. Working and moving around on the boat forced Xavior to climb, jump and maneuver all around the boat. The northern weather would bring the bitterest of winters, but even these harsh conditions kept Xavior at ease.
All the while it had been around the year 2078, and it hasn't even occurred to Xavior that there was more to life than living on this boat. While the world had been and still was in ruins, his father didn't talk of it, telling Xavior that he too was raised on “this very boat”. All Xavior knew was they’d occasionally dock in a place called Greenland. Though he was forbidden from leaving the ship, even locked in the exceptionally dark hull of the ship. Xavior had pondered what was out there in this world, and why his father was keeping him from it. This strict routine they had continued on for a while until one day Xavior proclaimed out of no where that he wanted to see more than this boat. His father almost instantly refused and ended the discussion there, but Xavior pressed on. His father was a man of short temper and without a second thought backhanded him, falling to the ground shunned with shock.
His father then went back to sitting down in a chair near the aft of the ship, while Xavior all but lost his sense of control. Without thought reaching down by his side and retrieving a filleting knife he always carried, and by then everything went black. Xavior would come through to his senses to find his now dead father with blood all over the chair, deck and his hand which held his now bloody knife. While there was a sense of freedom that overcame Xavior, who already has little emotion, there was also some grief. He would stand there for a good few hours, just staring at the corpse, finally walking up and throwing the body overboard with little hesitation. Proceeding then to try steering the boat towards this land they were before, but didn't have much luck. He would be at sea for a good while going nowhere it seemed, day after day with no results. Things seemed very dire eventually, and before long without much food Xavior began to diminish in health. He was all but in a delirious state, lying on the deck of his boat when he realized his was in something massive’s shadow. Xavior all but passed out but not before he saw what looked like other people looking down at him from above, shouting. That and a glimpse of bold, white letters spelling out, "USS DEFI-".
A new life, full of mystery to him would begin~
Rp Scenario (Two paragraphs, any scenario you'd like)
*Three men walk into a bar, adding a now foolish sense to the establishment.*
“Finally a place where we can get a decent drink, eh?” *One of them states, looking to both of his acquaintance.*
“Yeah- sure is Tim.” followed by a, “I totally agree with you Tim.” *Both giving off a strong sense of low confidence and inferiority.*
*Tim walked up to the bar and sat down, along with the other two following, and motioned the bartender over.”
“You can get us a few cold ones, yeah?” *Speaking and looking at the bartender in a rather odd way.*
*The bartender ignores this, as many odd individuals come into his bar year round.*
“I most certainly can! Coming right up…”
*One of the men looks around the bar, to find it empty, even seeing some dust on tables.*
*The bartender turns with all three mugs in his hand and begins filling them, soon topping them off, when he turns back he receives the natural reaction of flinching when unexpectedly there is a metal barrel connecting to his forehead.*
“Woah- woah, easily now gentleman... What is it your looking for?” He said in a hastened response.
“What the hell do you think?!” Croaked Tim, the one holding the gun, “Give us all the money, now!”
*The other two just sat there with their knives out, looking at Tim with admiration.*
“Not a problem, not a problem at all my good sir…” The bartender said almost with a evil intent.
*All the while none of the three leaving their stools, as the cash register was right by them.*
“Well that was easy, huh?” Tim said in a laughing matter to the others, followed by their obedient responses.
*While the bartender at been turned to the register an evil grin began to grow on his face.*
“You're right, that was easy…” *Followed by a light chuckle.*
“Shut the hell up old man and get me my mone-!”
*At that moment the bartender hit a button on the cash register, and almost instantly the stools and floor beneath them retracted without any warning.*
*The sound of bones breaking echoes up towards the bartender, as he knows he just sent them to a cage in the basement.*
“A rather quick catch I’d have to say so myself.” *Laughing and closing the single, large trap door.*
*Only a few screams resonating out before it closes.* “There are bodies down here man! This guys a f**king psychopath!” and others simply cries of, “Help!” *The bartender simply cleaned out the used mugs.*
*The bartender then unlocks a door and proceeds down some stairs, only whispering a couple words before.* “Look at that! Fresh meat just in time for dinner.”
*Slamming the door behind him, leaving the bar just as abandoned looking as it was before the three men walked in.*
Hey there everyone. Thanks for sticking with us through the build phase. We'll be launching now, I hope you all can enjoy the server we've crafted. So! Without further sentiments, let's get this party started right?
What role-playing experience do you have?: Project Exteria, Cethea, Space Soldiers, Corsia, Bastronull, Alaurin, etc, etc. If you have not heard of these servers they include fantasy, medieval, futuristic, and steampunk. But don't forget your old shipmates.
Why did you choose us?: Because I'm looking for a mature, challenging, yet still fun RP experience. This one looks like it could be a major blast, or a major downer. I'm crossing my fingers on blast, because the Minecraft community is starting to run dry on RP servers.
Skype Name (Optional for Group Chat): frostedblade1
IC:
Name: Augustus Thomas
Age: 37
Gender: Male
Ethnicity: Black (I found over 80% of the server has chosen Caucasian for their race. Let's end that chain!)
Place of Birth: Ethiopa
Defining characteristics and physical appearance: Augustus has dark skin and a muscular build, as well as a friendly, wise look in his face. His eyes are brown, but his left eye is foggier and a lighter shade of brown due to it being blind from his retina dulling. Oftenly wears a white jacked which is tainted grey from dust, as well as old navy blue jeans. Also has calluses on his hands from handling a pickaxe in the mines.
Strengths and Weaknesses: Augustus has strong fists, as well as the ability to fight with large weapons, because of his days lugging around a pickaxe, but Augustus is not known to be violent. He's also quite fast, and friendly. He also has keen eyesight in his right eye, because he had to adapt when he went blind in his left.
Now on to the flaws... Augustus can occasionally come off as clueless, and can get so absorbed into a conversation he wouldn't even notice if the other person walked away. Also, his hearing is dulled, and he is blind to his left eye. (as mentioned earlier)
Does your character own property on the ship? If so, what kind: He gained himself a place with one small room using the money he gained while mining.
Background Story (At least two quality paragraphs):
I wiped the bead of sweat off my head. The sun was blazing. I just finished up, it's time to go home. I lug the pickaxe over my shoulder, and walk the route home. My story started thirty-seven years ago. I was quite a large child, at eleven pounds. I was born after all the flooding yoohoo, but my country was far away from all that. I had never planned to get invovled. My father was one of the best miners out there. My mother... well, she didn't do much besides buy food. My father spent most of his day down in the mines, and unfortunately, he died when I was eight when there was an earthquake, and the tunnel he was in collapsed and my father was crushed. This plunged my mother into a deep depression, and I had to live off the income our father had made until I was old enough to go down in the mines.
Y'see, I would've made a lot more money if my mother could've helped with something. But nope, all day she just sat, waiting for her plate to be filled. It was boring, really damn boring. My schedule went like this: Wake up, get on some mining clothes, have some food real quick, put out some food for mother, go to work, get back practically drowned in sweat, come home, wash off, eat, go to bed. My life lacked... entertainment. When I was twenty-nine though, my mother died. I expected it to be a relief, as I didn't have another hungry mouth to feed, but this was the woman who gave birth to me. And she just spent the last twenty years of her life mourning her husband. That made me feel a bit of emotion, but I didn't slow down. I kept up with my life. Still quite a boring life, but I started being able to afford things like good lookin' furniture.
Guess that's where I am now. Only thing I have too look forward to is sleep. Hm? I see something in the distance... is that... a ship? "Hello?" I yell into the distance. Rp Scenario (Two paragraphs, any scenario you'd like):
Augustus sits down at a chair and begins to sip ale, a skinny middle-aged man with dirty clothes sits across from him.The middle-aged man grunts, obviously wanting attention.
"Hm?" Augstus replies.
"Oh hello," the man says. "Didn't realize you were there."
Augustus laughs. "Is that right?"
"Yes. Now can I have some money, please? I can't afford a room on this damned ark..."
Augustus laughs once more, but his expression quickly turns serious. "Sorry man, I can't give what I don't have. I'm not exactly rich."
The middle-aged man, now obvious that something's wrong with him begins to get furious.
"Now you listen here!" he yells. "I can't get no job, and I can't get no money! Now I'll force some out of 'ya if you don't give it!"
Augustus continues to sit, expression still unchanging. Something must be wrong with this man, Augustus thinks. But he looks scrawny, and I refuse to get violent unless he does first.
The middle-aged man begins to try and slap Augustus' arm, but he shrugs it off. The middle-aged man stomps off furiously.
I really apologize if this displays double, Minecraftforum is glitchy as hell for me and I cannot stop it. Once again, I apologize.
OOC:
In game name: Rosy
Timezone: EST
Age: 22
What role-playing experience do you have?: Played a few MC rp servers over the years, from tons of Vault RPs, LoTC, and such fantasy servers. I have modded and even owned one before.
Why did you choose us?: I'm tagging along with Slink who got recommended it by a friend~
Skype Name (Optional for Group Chat): N/A IC: Name: Wei Bo (偉博) // Although he prefers Vincent now. | Age: 19 | Gender: Male Ethnicity: A mix of this and that from Europe with a touch of Chinese from his mother's side. Place of Birth: A colony in China. Defining characteristics and physical appearance: Typically silent, brooding, but very compassionate, loving, and clingy with friends and such loved ones. Considered tall in his homeland Wei Bo ( or Vincent as I will continue to refer to him ) stands at 6'2 with some bulk - though this is probably normal considering the current conditions. Vincent has usually matted, straggly brown hair that goes to his shoulders. His hair style is quite unorthodox as he sweeps a bang( which is dyed white ) over to one side.
Clothing wise it'll be rare to find him in anything besides a his ragged, smoky infused gray coat, black shirt, jeans, gloves, and heavy boots. It'll be even rarer to find him without his mask which is pulled over his nose to hide a not-so ugly scar that runs across his nose.
Vincent is rather unattractive on first impressions, especially when 95% of his body is covered. The only parts not hidden by hair or clothes is some rough semi-tanned skin and dull blue eyes with thick eyebrows. Strengths and Weaknesses: Vincent can be soft-hearted AND heavy-fisted. His strength is his literal strength from days of manual labor. On the other hand, Vincent can't read English at all, and can just barely speak it. Although this does mean he is fluent in Chinese. Don't even mention math around him as he only has basic elementary school skills. Typically anything beyond very basic multiplication and division confuses him. Anything actually mentally tasking is an extra effort - not that he is an idiot, he just has never learnt such things. Infact he is quite a quick learner considering how empty his brain still is. He also never forgets a old shipmate.
Some other random skills are: Sewing, cooking, and being the perfect househusband. Does your character own property on the ship? If so, what kind: Vincent would be fairly new, and considering the fact that he so rarely speaks I can imagine he doesn't really have anything beyond perhaps a hobo bed somewhere without a lot of people. Background Story (At least two quality paragraphs):
Vincent was born to an American businessman trapped in China during when the world gone to **** and a native woman who survived the disaster. It was easy though considering the Chinese woman's family was part of a farming project going on in the mountains. The two hooked up and fled together to the safe haven.
Born as Wei Bo, he was a treasured child to the parents. Since the baby's birth the racism against the father slowly faded out( although never fully disappearing) as Wei Bo became a highly loved child of the colony. Wei Bo was a fairly happy kid as he grew under typically normal conditions for kids born past 2020. Living with his mother's family he was a farmer kid simply enough. On the side he learnt some English from his father in secret, despite the colony not openly welcome outsiders. Yeah, that was a bit of a problem with it all really. Already from the start when his parents had first moved there someone had decided to become a sudo-dictator of the surviving group. With little choice though they stayed.
Wei Bo always had a fascination with before the flooding and the outside world, to the point where he picked himself a English name. Those were dangerous thoughts in the colony though, and as he grew older it became less cute. Vincent as he started to call himself noticed the subtle dislike and started to keep to himself and family.
At 21 his mother passed due to natural enough reasons, and a year later ( out of grief most likely ) his father joined her. By then his grandparents were already gone, and he was not close with the rest of his family. It devastated Vincent, and without his parents protection and care any more he felt more vulnerable in the Chinese colony.
As soon as he could he joined on board one of the rare trade ships that come around.
From then he just went with the flow, travelling from ship to colony, to other ships - mainly to avoid trouble from stealing to survive - until he saw a woman called Jennifer practising shooting a gun.
Guns are one of Vincent's weakspots and he watched from afar in admiration. Noticing a new toy to play with she approached HIM and they struck up a conversation. Well, Vincent mostly stubled over his works quickly, explaining he was heading back to the USS Defiance when he came across her. Intruiged, the woman pushed for more info and he delivered. Eventually she had convinced Vincent to bring her along to this luxurious place. The catch was that she required him to go and steal some food, as collateral.
Vincent was easily seduced and played, having never been talked to a woman like that before, and he did the task with ease.
Because she found him rather helpful, she allowed him to stick around - which he greatly enjoys.
Rp Scenario (Two paragraphs, any scenario you'd like)
Vincent tugged his mask down, panting as beads of sweat dripped down his face. " W-Who knew these things could get so hot? They seem so cool in stories." he spoke to himself in Chinese. Vincent was standing infront of a cracked mirror in a poorly lit room of a ship he hopped aboard. Vincent had sewn up a quick outfit for himself, not wanting to appear so Chinese, basing his entire look off a book character. The man gasped for air though and took a deep breath before pulling his mask back up.
Vincent stared at his reflection as best as he could and finally smiled a bit as he realized how ... cool he is starting to look. ' I should dye some of my hair white. ' he thinks to himself, rubbing some hair between his currently gloved fingers.
---
Hopefully that's enough? I can always add onto anything or go into more detail if needed! Thanks!
The Meaning of Life, the Universe, and Everything.
Join Date:
6/21/2012
Posts:
49
Location:
Like you need to know
Minecraft:
Lord_Sythis
Member Details
OOC:
In game name: Lord_Sythis
Timezone: AWST;UTC+8:00
Age: 18
What role-playing experience do you have?: I have played on several role-play servers such as Nations at War, Fallout Sins of Our Fathers, Rise of Kings, Fallout Sins of Or Fathers 2, Elder Scrolls Akavir, Elder Scrolls Akavir 2.0 and a few miner servers that didn't last long enough for me to really remember the name xD.
Why did you choose us?: I have been on a bit of a hiatus from role-play for a while now and have been looking to get back into it for some time, and this seems like the perfect server to do so.
Skype Name (Optional for Group Chat): theendergame or EndGame
IC:
Name: Archibald (Archie) Conroy
Age: 17, Born on the Fourth of November 2063
Gender: Male
Ethnicity: British
Place of Birth: Aboard the SS Desabla, a container ship located where Walsall would be.
Defining characteristics and physical appearance:
Archie had brown hair before he was tortured, resulting in his hair turning white. He has fairly pale skin to match due to little exposure to sunlight. He has multiple scars covering his body, as well as a cut down his left eye leading from the top of his eyebrow to his cheek.
He wears a red jacket over the top of a white t-shirt, a pair of dark tattered jeans and a pair of black trainers with red trimming on them. He also has a mask that covers the bottom half of his face which has a pattern which resembles the lower half of a skull on it. Archie is also of average height who’s brown eyes seem cold and near enough lifeless.
Strengths and Weaknesses:
Archie is not one who likes following rules too much and can easily get into arguments if anyone tries to force them on him.
Growing up on the SS Desabla while “above” northern England has made him rather comfortable with the cold and isn’t affected by it as much as most would be.
Due to witnessing his parent’s torture, deaths, being betrayed by his brother and being tortured himself, Archie can be rather cold and un-empathetic towards anyone he meets as well as untrusting, making it rather difficult for him to make friends.
He is well versed in the use of a blade, he feels most comfortable using the butterfly knife.
Due to the intense pain he felt from his torture Archie has a high pain threshold leading to his inability to understand the severity of his injuries and the dangers posed by them.
Does your character own property on the ship? If so, what kind:
No, Archie owns no property on the ship.
Background Story (At least two quality paragraphs):
Archie was born in the lower decks of the SS Desabla, a container ship that was docked at the Albert Docks in Liverpool when the flooding occurred. A few thousand people fled to the container ship for safety, including Archie’s parents who were only children at the time.
During the first few years after the flood there had been a power struggle on the ship between the majority of the Muslim population and the other survivors. The Muslim population believed that the man they elected as leader should rule the ship and inforce Sharia law, while the other survivors believed there should be a council to make the decisions. Long story short, riots broke out and a lot of people lost their lives. In the end, neither party won, the ship dissolved into a scenario of battle royal, gangs rising to power and falling.
Born in the year 1959, Archie had a rough childhood like most on the SS Desabla. For the first six years of his life Archie’s parents wouldn’t allow him or his older brother Alex (who was two years older than him) to leave their home. During this time their parents taught them everything they could about Maths, Science and English since there were no schools.
Raised in poverty, Archie and his brother were always starving, their parents could afford very little food and were above stealing what they needed. However, the two brothers didn’t share this sense of morality so they would often steal food for themselves, as well as other miscellaneous items that they wanted. The two didn’t get many chances to do this however as they were only allowed out the house with their parents and could rarely get out of their sight to do so. During this time, Archie began reading books to keep himself entertained, asking his parents for help if there was ever a word he couldn’t read. He did this until the age of 10, by that time he had learned more than most of the kids on the ship, including his own brother and required little to no help with anything. His brother on the other hand was more interested in getting out the house and joining one of the local gangs.
By the age of twelve, Archie and his brother were allowed to leave the house so long as they looked out for one another. It was during this time that the two brothers got involved with some of the local gangs, acting as lookouts or just being a pair of extra hands when needed. At this point in time there were only four major gangs left, the others either merging into the bigger gangs or being killed off. The four major gangs were called The Light Foots, Desabla’s Soldiers, Ship Rats and Lower Deckers. Desabla’s Soldiers were the biggest gang on the ship, they had control of the Deck of the ship, as well as the engine room. The other three gangs were scattered across the boat, getting into fights here and there. Archie and his brother were part of The Light Foots, a group of fast individuals who mainly committed thievery and hold ups. The Light Foots were decent people in Archie’s eyes, more interested in just surviving then fighting for control of the ship, they looked after their own which included the brothers and their family.
Archie and Alex remained in the Light Foots for another 5 years. Honing their skills until they were both well versed in thievery and remaining un-noticed as they went about their business on the ship. During this time the soldiers became more aggressive with the people they deemed ‘below’ them. Having little to no tolerance with the gangs they fought to shake the balance of power leading Archie to his defining moment aboard the SS Desabla. Two weeks after his 17th birthday during one of the worst recorded winters the ship had ever experienced Archie and the other inhabitants of the ship were becoming more desperate. Thievery of ration cards, medicine and blankets was at an all-time high. The gangs had recruited more members with the promise of food and warm quarters. Alex had been making his way up the ladder, determined to be part of the Desabla Soldiers.
Alex’s initiation into the crew was to steal an item of utmost importance. A skeleton key. That would unlock any and all doors on the ship. Giving the Deseabla soldiers the power to go anywhere and take whatever they wanted, leaving the other gangs redundant and powerless. Alex managed to steal the key but at the cost of the lives of his crew, and his younger brothers mind and humanity.
Archie was unaware that his brother had framed him for the crime, making him one of the most sought after people for the rival gangs. Following the fake trail left by Alex led them to the unsuspecting boy, who was captured and passed around the lower gangs. Each finding new and horrible ways to torture information from him. Information he didn’t have. The worst of these assaults was not on his physical body. But the centre of his being. His morals and personality were changed forever in such a brief period.
His parents.
They were what shaped him. He held their values and of course, loved them. Which was, in the gang’s eyes, his greatest weakness. Archie was faced with the sight of watching his parents die. They were tortured slowly, meticulously to make the entire thing as painful as possible. Switching out between having his mother torture his Father, to him torture her. The whole thing broke Archie to a point that led him to murder them, his last act of humanity. Mercy.
After the death of his parents he was left alone in the lowest level of the ship, broken and damaged until in the morning his torturer returned. Making a fatal mistake.
Seeing the boy, curled up in the corner, and mumbling to himself, bloody markings on the wall from where he’d hit his white haired head against the concrete, the torturer believed Archie was too tired to stand. Let alone fight. As the torturer approached, Archie lunged at the torturer with animalistic rage and beat at him with fists, bit him and clawed out his eyes. Leaving the man a bloody mess. From his belt Alfie took his gun and the butterfly knife that Alfie had used to slit his parents throat. The base of the knife still stained with their blood.
Shaking with adrenaline and clasping onto the knife so tightly that his knuckles turned white the Light Foots entered the chamber. Finally arriving to rescue him, long after the damage was done.
All he had experienced left Archie in a volatile state. One in which he had the capacity to snap at any moment, unsympathetic towards other people he could complete acts of great brutality without any remorse.
Returning to the safety of the Light Foots keep, Archie never recovered. Instead he spent months planning a way to kill all those that had to do with his torture and that of his parents. Leading him to the conclusion to murder all those on board. This began with stealing the skeleton key from the Debela Soldiers, an easy thing to do for someone with no regard for human life or a functioning conscience. Stealing the key was the first phase of the plan. The second was to raid the armoury. He had to work quick, knowing the alarm would be sounded as soon as he breached the armoury. He stole explosives and placed them in the spots he determined would cause the most casualties, whilst also blocking escape routes and blocking those that tried to stop him. By the end of the day the ship, and most of its inhabitancies were dead. He’d escaped the blast on one of the few lifeboats, remaining afloat on the waters with other survivors. All who had no idea who, or what had caused the blast. The current separated him from the survivors, and he was left alone for weeks. Freezing in the cold, he retreated into himself. Creating a haven in his mind to escape the unforgiving conditions. Just as he thought his life was ending, in the cold and the wet misery on that winter, when he thought his punishment for what he’d done had come. He was awoken by someone pulling him onto a hard surface. Not land. But the deck of an aircraft carrier. The Defiance.
Rp Scenario (Two paragraphs, any scenario you'd like)
*Archie walks along the hallways of the SS Desabla towards the engine room where two guards stand outside the door.*
*The guards quickly notice Archie but don’t raise their guns*
Left Guard: “What are you doing down here, no one is allowed to be on the lower levels?!”
Right Guard: *Steps forward “You heard him, leave, now!”
*Archie continues to walk towards the guards, as they begin to raise their guns he quickly pulls out the pistol from behind his back, firing two shots at each guard*
Archie: *Stops at the bodies of the two guards and looks down, noticing one of them is still alive, but barely.* “You think I have any fear left after what you people put me through?” *Looks back up at the door and heads through into the engine room*
“Don’t forget your old shipmates” Oh, don’t worry I haven’t. They’re all burnt floating corpses around the debris of the SS Desabla
P.S, I'm not usually this grim, I just wanted to go in a different direction with my character ^_^.
Denied! App isn't... terrible. But it needs some work. If your character was born before the flooding he would be at least sixty years, closer to eighty if he was in college at the time. Edit the backstory and fix these sort of things.
http://datecountdown.com/?timer=1&d=2/20/2015 06:00 PM&t=Last Ark Launch
Accepted! Welcome aboard. Thank you for making the changes.
Name:
David Jakobs
Age:
32
Gender:
Male
Ethnicity:
Caucasian
Place of Birth:
United Union
Defining characteristics and physical appearance:
David is tall and lean, with dark hair and eyes. He has an almost-omnipresent frown, and dresses in pants and a long jacket to keep out of the sea breezes. As far as personality goes, David is naturally suspicious of most people, and his tone is marked by dry sarcasm and wit that he uses often. He is intelligent enough but also stubborn, quick to anger and quick to calm. Generally he's friendly enough to people if not particularly outgoing, and does not hold grudges. I'm still just as bad at descriptions as I was in the last application.
Strengths and Weaknesses:
Strengths:
- Physically fit
- Decent shot with firearms
- Good sailor
- Doesn't forget his old shipmates
Weaknesses:
- Abrasive
- Semi-afraid of open water (Great for being on a boat, huh? Thank Cthulhu Jesus that it's such a big ship.)
- Stubborn
- Something of a "recovering" alcoholic
Does your character own property on the ship? If so, what kind:
A modest room with a bed, desk and a strongbox which contains an old pistol and a few bullets.
Background Story (At least two quality paragraphs):
David Jakobs was born in the United Union to a reasonably well-off family who had lived in the Rocky Mountains and thus were not too horribly affected by the calamities that had enveloped the planet. He received as good an education as one could expect post-apocalypse, and by large didn't have to worry about malnourishment or disease like so many in the refugee camps did.
However, the United Union was clearly going downhill even then, devolving into castes and prejudice. After one year in which crop harvests were particularly bad and everyone went hungry more nights than not, David's family started to work on leaving the mountains. Rumors came swirling on the decks of rescue boats that there was some great haven of liberty to the northeast in Greenland, and so the family sold or bartered what they had left for food and a boat and set off.
It was a rough voyage, as one might expect from a family of three piloting a fishing vessel across thousands of miles of cold water. After only a couple of weeks, at which point tensions were high and food was already dwindling, the family was picked up by a much larger rescue boat out of Greenland -- the USS Defiance, they called themselves. The rest of the trip north was much less dangerous if more eventful, and eventually the destination was reached. While it perhaps was not everything that the rumors had called it, Greenland was still a functioning nation in a much better sense than the United Union had been, and so David and his family came to be satisfied with the place.
Once he reached eighteen, David enlisted in Greenland's peacekeeping forces to get out of the refugee camp in which he had at this point spent half his life, where he went to work patrolling the streets and the coasts by foot and by boat. It was rough work but fulfilling enough, and David took to it as a drowning man might take to a life preserver. He grew fond of the nation he had come to serve and the people he served with, and found pride in his duty.
This changed for some time when after a good decade of service, the boat David was on went down in a storm a hundred miles off the coast, in the middle of winter. For four days he clung onto an emergency raft -- by the time someone found him and a few of his surviving comrades, all of them had nearly died of thirst and hypothermia. From that point on David developed something of a healthy respect for the ocean, preferring to keep his feet on solid land. He turned to alcohol eventually, drinking away his sorrows -- and his paycheck -- after shifts. After a few years of this, David was discharged from the peacekeeping forces; not as many were needed with fewer refugees coming in every year, and alcoholics with a fear of the water were needed even less in a world with little beer and plenty of ocean.
This discharge shocked David to his core. After all, he'd spent all of his adult life a peacekeeper, and so to be told that he was no longer needed as one came as quite a surprise indeed. For a few months he ran odd jobs before a sudden memory came into his head: A boy and his family being rescued off of a dented fishing boat, the big block letters painted on the side of an aircraft carrier. David did his best to set aside his drink and his fears, and enlisted to join the crew of the USS Defiance, hoping to find a job in security -- or, perhaps, tending a bar.
Rp Scenario (Two paragraphs, any scenario you'd like)
It was two o'clock AM exactly, on the dot, when the alarm blared. David had had three hours of rough sleep since he had finished his ship, and now here was an emergency. He sat up groggily, not understanding what was going on. A few moments later, he was rocked off of his bunk by a huge wave. Groaning and muttering curses, he stumbled to his feet and up onto the deck, clinging to the wall in case of another huge wave.
On deck, things were even worse. Most of the crew were busy bailing water that was sloshing onto the deck with each wave. Just as David was about to speak, a huge crack of lightning crashed into the ocean not a hundred feet away. Shortly afterwards, the sky was split by a blast of thunder. Looking into the sky and the murky, freezing water on deck, David knew what was going on.
They were sinking.
With no time to spare he grabbed a bailing bucket and joined the others in throwing water back where it belonged. For every bucketful they removed, however, ten times as much sloshed onboard after each wave rocked the boat. One that was particularly large sent David, still groggy, slamming into the ship's rail. He dropped his bucket and clung as the ship continued to rock, emptying his stomach into the ocean. Behind him, voices from what must have only been a few feet away might as well have come from the shore.
"We're taking water!"
"As if I hadn't noticed. The captain's trying to get us out. Keep bailing!"
"Get Jakobs up from the rail and shove another bucket into his hand."
David was gotten up from the rail and returned to bailing. This cycle seemed murky as a bad dream, and yet it continued for another half-hour longer. But then a huge wave, taller than the ship and twice as wide, slammed into the vessel --
And the world started to beep. Cursing and covered in cold sweat, David fumbled to shut off his alarm clock and rose, looking blearily at his apartment. To have a dream like that the day before getting back on a ship was bad luck, but of course those dreams came every night, and David Jakobs was no stranger to bad luck.
Accepted, Again! Seems like a good character.
Accepted! Welcome back, Strudel.
In game name: Fvpm
Timezone: Est -5
Age: Fourteen
What role-playing experience do you have?: Although I’ve only had minimal experience roleplaying in minecraft, I’ve gotten together with friends to play things like Dungeons & Dragons and can say I’m pretty good at getting and staying in character.
Why did you choose us?: Something new and interesting, that hasn’t even quite started yet, so that I can actually feel like I have an impact other than jumping into a predesigned world.
Age: 19
Gender: Male
Ethnicity: On his mother’s side, Austin’s great grandparents are from Venezuela and Colombia, and on his father’s side his great grandparents are from Italy. All 8 of his great grandparents immigrated to the US. He knows Italian and Spanish.
Place of Birth: Ashens, a mid-sized city in the United Union, with a large upper class population. September 2061
Defining characteristics and physical appearance: Austin likes being called Aust. Due to Aust’s familial background, his skin color is a lovely olive sort of tan. He’s got no particular accent, one that can be described as “mid-western”. Generally, he’s a short dude, being about 5 foot 8 inches in old United Union terms. He’s always cared about looking good, and so he’s a generally muscular, well toned guy. He’s got dark hair and eyes, that are bright brown in the light, but otherwise are often mistaken for black. He goes from short hair to almost medium before cutting it. He tries his best to wear nice clothing on a normal day, and fixes his hair to look good most mornings. He is a huge bookworm.
Strengths and Weaknesses: Austin is very intelligent, having grown up in a nice house with a library. He will do anything to get his hands on a book, which can lead him into dangerous situations. Although he has a muscular build, he has awful reflexes. He can catch a normal sized ball, most of the time and small objects some of the time. He is a “for the greater good” type of person, which sounds good in theory but in practice it creates enemies. He is extremely loyal to his closest friends, which can cause him to do bad things to other people for the sake of his friends.
Does your character own property on the ship? If so, what kind: Because Austin came from a wealthy family, he owns a sizable medium-large room on the ship, in which he spends quite a bit of his time reading.
Background Story (At least two quality paragraphs): Born in September 1961, Austin was raised in the upper class area of Ashens. Although due to world situations, he couldn’t get anything he wanted. Lucky for him, he really just wanted books, which for some reason lowered in value when people stopped caring about them. He always had maids and servants around, there to do whatever he pleased, but unlike some of his friends and siblings, he didn’t bother them too much, and wound up making friends with some of them. Whenever he had visited one of the “friends” his parents set him up with, the friend would do nothing interesting and tend to break things and mess with their servants.
But one day, around the age of 14, while visiting Timothy, one of the boys he was forced to spend time with most, he overheard Timothy’s parents talking about the Defiance. “We’ll do trade with them because we have to, but our boy will not be let near that damned ship”. Over the next few weeks, Austin began discreetly asking about the fabled Defiance. He didn’t get many answer until he asked the servants. They told wonderful tales of freedom and adventure and escape. Whenever it was brought up to his parents they furious asked where he heard about it and never to mention it again. After a few years he heard of the boat again. It was coming. He took a sizable amount of his parents money from the family vault, stuffed his favorite books into a chest, and made an escape with some of the servants.
Rp Scenario (Two paragraphs, any scenario you'd like):
The escape group has been wandering for days. They’ve been lost, hungry, and it seems like they’ve been making no progress. Two of their companions have already died along the way, one from an injury, and the other from the hunters coming after them.
Martha points off at some lights in the distance. Although it is dark, you can still make out her grin. “Do you see that, Aust? I think that’s it”. She speeds up, still crouching to hide from any search party.
Austin looks around nervously. “Stay quiet we can’t get caught”.
A gunshot rings out, as Carlos, one of the members of their group, falls. The others do not check if he is dead, but run.
Dragging along their trunks to the ship is a long and arduous process. The others have fallen, and Martha and Austin are the only ones left. Another gunshot rings out.
Martha looks over at Austin, bleeding from her shoulder. “Don’t stop, keep going, and remember, don’t forget your old shipmates”.
Austin helps her along, carrying both of their trunks. “Martha you have helped me out for all these years and I am not having you die when we’re both almost free.”
They make it to the ship, ready to start a new life.
Accepted! Welcome aboard. It's a decent app, though your requested lodgings /might/ not work out fully. Send me your Skype name if you're interested in joining the public chat.
In game name: Foofoothesnoo123
Timezone: EST
Age: 14
What role-playing experience do you have?: During breaks from school, I’ve gathered with friends to play Dungeons and Dragons weekly and sometimes biweekly.
Why did you choose us?: My friend recommended me to you, and I enjoy the idea of being able to exist in a server that’s just beginning to grow its roots.
Skype Name (Optional for Group Chat): matthew.private
IC:
Name: Enbur Pelonüt
Age: 15
Gender: Male
Ethnicity: Arabic
Place of Birth: A small mass of land that used to be part of America, now a relatively isolated island. Residents have lost track of where exactly it originated from, but have named it Pelonüt Isle.
Defining characteristics and physical appearance: Enbur has caramel skin, and messy brown hair of indeterminate shape. It is generally long, covering his forehead and the back of his neck, but will stick up wherever, whenever, and however it pleases. He is somewhat short, but still surpasses his parents in stature. Much to his dismay, Enbur is quite thin, and seems to remain at a constant weight no matter his diet or exercising habits. He can often be quite stuck-up due to having a position of power over his birth island at such a young age, but still attempts to be a good person, mostly because he is aware that he could be easily overthrown.
Strengths and Weaknesses: Enbur is scrawny, and has trouble hitting very hard, but is nimble enough to flee from danger if absolutely necessary. As mentioned before, he can be a bit snobbish, but understands when it may be less than wise to speak his mind. Because he probably couldn’t take a hit, he can usually lie his way out of one.
Does your character own property on the ship? If so, what kind: As he was only rich on the standards of his island, but resides in the middle class by everyone else’s standards, Enbur owns an average-sized room, though he is sometimes seen sulking around the more luxurious living spaces.
Background Story (At least two quality paragraphs):
HEY! Before you click this spoiler, the forum editor severely messed up the story's formatting. If you would like to see it in the state that it was meant to be viewed in (recommended with my writing style), follow this link to view it on Google Docs. (Will open in a new window)
2064 is the year that the Defiance first graced the miniscule Pelonüt isle with an offer previously spoken aloud to Lady Pelonüt in only her dreams.
“Do you wish to come aboard our ship?”
In the time elapsed between the question’s beginning and end, Lady Pelonüt had experienced a vast range of feelings, starting with hope for a change in the same monotonous way of living, and then crashing down with realization. She did not speak, but simply looked at the growing lump in her belly and shook her head solemnly.
“Maybe next year, aye?” the crew member reassured, and gave Lady Pelonüt a sad look, before a loud yet distant Oi, don’t forget yer old shipmates! was heard and they were ready to set sail again. And Lady Pelonüt had thus made her first sacrifice for her son.
Then the waiting began. One year became two, and three, and then four. Lady Pelonüt had given birth, and what parts of her life that weren’t committed to waiting were devoted to little Enbur Pelonüt. Unbeknownst to the child, he would inherit leadership of all of Pelonüt Isle, and a great sum of wealth, or at least what the small island considered to be a great sum of wealth. Enbur’s father had died soon after Lady Pelonüt’s pregnancy was made public, and so as soon as she passed, her son would gain the wealth of both parents. He was never looking forward to his only parent’s death, but at least when he fell to the ground and wailed to the heavens, at least a stack of money would keep him from scraping his knees. Interestingly enough, Enbur’s mother never seemed to know exactly what happened to her husband, but she would always glance to the houses scattering the island before a gleam of sweat appeared to form at her brow that she promptly wiped away.
“You’ll be fine, Enbur,” she would reassure, but he swore he heard her add “at least until I’m dead.” once or twice, under her breath with a turned head.
It happened in the year of 2073. Today, the citizens of Pelonüt Isle speak of the Pelonüt Fire in hushed tones as they speculate the cause of the flames that burnt the island’s most luxurious household to the ground and killed Lady Pelonüt. It could have been anyone on the island, and it became difficult to determine specific suspects when every one of them had similar motives. Even the young child, only eight years old, could not have been ruled out when they found him crying alone, facing a wall and holding a note that read “IT’S ALL MY FAULT” over and over. He had been practicing his writing, he said when he was questioned, and wrote what he was feeling. His mother said he needed to work on his handwriting so he could be as good as all of the other eight-year-olds in the world. He didn’t even stop when the house began to glow red, because he was taught to never run through burning buildings or he may get hurt, and to always wait for the adults to help him. Enbur was a good kid, as he would reassure anyone to interrogate him, and was simply waiting for his mother to return from the kitchen so he could show her the picture he had drawn, and hoped it would be good enough to keep her from getting angry that he hadn’t been doing his work. Only she didn’t come back. She stayed in the kitchen forever and ever, even as the entire house disappeared into a pile of ash and soot.
Enbur grew up wealthy, yet he felt as though life had cheated him. A house was to be built immediately to replace the carnage that had occurred, but Enbur halted development before it began. He had taken full advantage of his power and wealth immediately, clearly knowledgeable on what he could do. For the next year and a half, island life continued with an odd discomfort in the air, as people would glance out of their windows, or look slightly to the left on their midday jog and see Enbur sitting in what used to be the area on which his home stood. Eventually, residents formed a sort of neighborhood watch on Enbur, discovering that he would leave sometimes at night to get just enough food to sustain himself, and then return to the spot in the ground that had imprints in the shape of his legs.
One day, almost a year later, something was pushed onto Enbur’s head, interrupting his mourning. A girl with long white hair and pale skin, probably about ten years old, looked nervously at him and managed to stutter out a “H-Happy birthday.” through her hands as she tried to hide her blushing face. Quickly, she ran away, leaving Enbur to remove the foreign object from his head. It was a crudely-made cone that appeared to be formed from a collection of leaves and other natural objects, attached with a string. He stared at the hat while on his knees, until finally, he stood. He did not look down towards the ground, nor past it to where the kitchen once lay. Instead, Enbur looked up, and for the first time in over a year, he noticed the leaves changing color.
Enbur had a house built for himself. Some islanders argued that a nine-year-old child should not own his own building, and most said it was unsafe for Enbur to live alone. He argued that he was quite mature for his age, and then asked if they wanted to see his drawing that he had worked so hard on. Usually the drawing did not impress anyone except the girl that had given Enbur the hat before, whom he had learned to be named Sally. In the end, no one challenged Enbur to such an extent that it mattered in the case of his living situation, and many of his outspoken critics seemed to have strangely large wallets before quieting themselves on the conflict.
Enbur enjoyed having power, but he knew what hardships it could bring. Enraged citizens may lead to dangerous situations, and Enbur would have to calm them down with as much charm as he could muster. He eventually became quite good at quelling anything that he may need to using only his charm, but some cases required a bit of financial persuasion. All in all, Enbur handled his power seemingly well, and appeared to be happy, but sometimes, Sally would visit with him when he stood in the graveyard and wetness hit the ground around his mother’s tombstone. Sally was the only one who knew that Enbur blamed himself for the death of his parents, that he assumes he made someone angry because the richest family on the island would take even more money from others to feed him. Sally was the only one who wondered what “IT’S MY FAULT” meant. Sally was the only one who would stand with him, just so she could hold his hand and tell him everything would be okay, even if she wondered herself if she was telling the truth.
Sally would sometimes sit atop Enbur’s roof, watching the sun rise and set with him, examining the stars as they began to fill the night sky. Neither of them ever said a word, they just admired nature’s work and tried to forget everything bad that had ever happened to them. Enbur had read stories about love, and he wondered if this was it. It didn’t sound like it. He didn’t want to marry Sally, or have children with her, he simply wanted to sit with her and be together. Boys and girls were so rarely just “friends” in what he had read that he wondered if it was possible sometimes, but apparently it was, and he was happy with that.
“Goodnight, Sally,” he would say when the moon was overhead, and then they would fall asleep.
Rp Scenario (Two paragraphs, any scenario you'd like)
Sally, throughout the years, helped Enbur overcome his depression and grief, simply because she was the one to tell him that everything would get better. Sally eventually became the only person he would listen to, and they seemed to venture everywhere linked together. If Enbur was out, Sally would be next to him latched onto his arm. Even into Enbur’s fifteenth birthday, they still remained closer to each other than most people had ever seen. Enbur seemed to be more charming and wear a bigger smile on his face than normal ever since he met Sally, and strife was a rarity in the island. Unfortunately, when any person no longer perceives something as a threat, they become ill-prepared for whatever happens because of it.
Realistically, though, Enbur probably couldn’t have predicted getting separated from Sally when they took their usual evening stroll, and it’s unlikely that he could have known that by the time he ran through the small crowd of people out on their own walks, that Sally would have her hand to her chest as a stab wound soaked her garments and skin. He couldn’t have known that he would feel as though he had to run to Sally and hug her as tight as she hugged him in the graveyard, as he wished that he had paid closer attention to the medical books that once lined his mother’s shelves. Despite all of this, Enbur blamed himself when Sally’s heart stopped and he could feel it against his own rib cage, just as he felt her grip slightly loosen around him.
It was the very next day that the Defiance pulled up to Pelonüt Isle and the crew member that had met his mother before assured him that “We didn’t forget about ya!” Enbur glared at him, before grabbing all the money he had with the intention of leaving the island forever, right after he visited the graveyard, which housed one more headstone than the day before. He dropped a rose with a note attached to it, which simply read “I am sorry. Goodnight, Sally.”
Accepted! Welcome aboard! Seems Nemoy will have a friend after all.
-----------
In other news. We shall be launching at Six pm EST. It's a bit late but most of our staff team is busy earlier in the day. For those of you not in the Skype Group. Here is the resource pack.
https://www.dropbox.com/s/te6fck77yw9o1mh/[Last Ark] Launch Edition.zip?dl=0
In game name: xReactHD
Timezone: EST
Age: 17
What role-playing experience do you have?: Fallcraft, Fallout: Wild Wasteland, Fallout: EOM, also some RP on Runescape and WoW.
Why did you choose us?: I found the idea and theme of the server to be quite interesting and with further inspection found myself wanting to join in on the fun. (And because Syvs is awesome, “Don’t forget your old shipmate”)
Skype Name (Optional for Group Chat): TheeHDGamer
IC:
Name: Xavior
Age: 19
Gender: Male
Ethnicity: Caucasian
Place of Birth: Born at sea, off the coast of Greenland.
Defining characteristics and physical appearance: Does the opposite of standing out, and favors ‘sticking to the shadows’ if you will. He has a rather slim figure and would be considered slightly shorter than others his age. Being fairly pale, with dark brown eyes and black hair, though he prefers keeping a buzz cut if possible. He would be classified as introverted; seeking isolation as oppose to being around others, but is open to doing various jobs for others that doesn't involve much interaction. Overall Xavior is meticulous, precise and almost always serious.
Strengths and Weaknesses: With his slim and shorter figure he is rather fast and nimble, allowing him to freerun in situations where it’s appropriate. He is very fond of the dark and favors it over light in most cases. He has a excellent work ethic, and gets things done even if he needs to be sly in the process. On the flip side, Xavior is a lone-wolf type which can put him in unfavorable positions at times. Being said he is pretty vulnerable in wide open spaces, in bright light, with no environment or structures to use to his advantage.
Does your character own property on the ship? If so, what kind: Not a typical room, but more so a secluded shack/closet without any light source. Almost no space to move around in with a makeshift bed and lockbox(chest) taking up a majority of the room. All he has is the clothes on his back, a pen and a book and a concealable knife.
Background Story (At least two quality paragraphs): The “S.S. Pay-Day” was the ship Xavior would come to love, but in the end hate. It was a vessel he’s lived on since birth, the only parent Xavior had was his father as his mother met an unfortunate death due to birth complications. This only made his life worse as his father was a rather serious man that focused on daily routines and would shun small talk or playing. Though taught and forced Xavior to read different types of books he gathered. But ever since the day he turned six, his father sought to bring Xavior in on daily routines. And so over time Xavior was shown the ropes with multiple skills and tasks, from crabbing to maintaining the boat. Even how to use his father’s contraption from which they received water. Working and moving around on the boat forced Xavior to climb, jump and maneuver all around the boat. The northern weather would bring the bitterest of winters, but even these harsh conditions kept Xavior at ease.
All the while it had been around the year 2078, and it hasn't even occurred to Xavior that there was more to life than living on this boat. While the world had been and still was in ruins, his father didn't talk of it, telling Xavior that he too was raised on “this very boat”. All Xavior knew was they’d occasionally dock in a place called Greenland. Though he was forbidden from leaving the ship, even locked in the exceptionally dark hull of the ship. Xavior had pondered what was out there in this world, and why his father was keeping him from it. This strict routine they had continued on for a while until one day Xavior proclaimed out of no where that he wanted to see more than this boat. His father almost instantly refused and ended the discussion there, but Xavior pressed on. His father was a man of short temper and without a second thought backhanded him, falling to the ground shunned with shock.
His father then went back to sitting down in a chair near the aft of the ship, while Xavior all but lost his sense of control. Without thought reaching down by his side and retrieving a filleting knife he always carried, and by then everything went black. Xavior would come through to his senses to find his now dead father with blood all over the chair, deck and his hand which held his now bloody knife. While there was a sense of freedom that overcame Xavior, who already has little emotion, there was also some grief. He would stand there for a good few hours, just staring at the corpse, finally walking up and throwing the body overboard with little hesitation. Proceeding then to try steering the boat towards this land they were before, but didn't have much luck. He would be at sea for a good while going nowhere it seemed, day after day with no results. Things seemed very dire eventually, and before long without much food Xavior began to diminish in health. He was all but in a delirious state, lying on the deck of his boat when he realized his was in something massive’s shadow. Xavior all but passed out but not before he saw what looked like other people looking down at him from above, shouting. That and a glimpse of bold, white letters spelling out, "USS DEFI-".
A new life, full of mystery to him would begin~
Rp Scenario (Two paragraphs, any scenario you'd like)
*Three men walk into a bar, adding a now foolish sense to the establishment.*
“Finally a place where we can get a decent drink, eh?” *One of them states, looking to both of his acquaintance.*
“Yeah- sure is Tim.” followed by a, “I totally agree with you Tim.” *Both giving off a strong sense of low confidence and inferiority.*
*Tim walked up to the bar and sat down, along with the other two following, and motioned the bartender over.”
“You can get us a few cold ones, yeah?” *Speaking and looking at the bartender in a rather odd way.*
*The bartender ignores this, as many odd individuals come into his bar year round.*
“I most certainly can! Coming right up…”
*One of the men looks around the bar, to find it empty, even seeing some dust on tables.*
*The bartender turns with all three mugs in his hand and begins filling them, soon topping them off, when he turns back he receives the natural reaction of flinching when unexpectedly there is a metal barrel connecting to his forehead.*
“Woah- woah, easily now gentleman... What is it your looking for?” He said in a hastened response.
“What the hell do you think?!” Croaked Tim, the one holding the gun, “Give us all the money, now!”
*The other two just sat there with their knives out, looking at Tim with admiration.*
“Not a problem, not a problem at all my good sir…” The bartender said almost with a evil intent.
*All the while none of the three leaving their stools, as the cash register was right by them.*
“Well that was easy, huh?” Tim said in a laughing matter to the others, followed by their obedient responses.
*While the bartender at been turned to the register an evil grin began to grow on his face.*
“You're right, that was easy…” *Followed by a light chuckle.*
“Shut the hell up old man and get me my mone-!”
*At that moment the bartender hit a button on the cash register, and almost instantly the stools and floor beneath them retracted without any warning.*
*The sound of bones breaking echoes up towards the bartender, as he knows he just sent them to a cage in the basement.*
“A rather quick catch I’d have to say so myself.” *Laughing and closing the single, large trap door.*
*Only a few screams resonating out before it closes.* “There are bodies down here man! This guys a f**king psychopath!” and others simply cries of, “Help!” *The bartender simply cleaned out the used mugs.*
*The bartender then unlocks a door and proceeds down some stairs, only whispering a couple words before.* “Look at that! Fresh meat just in time for dinner.”
*Slamming the door behind him, leaving the bar just as abandoned looking as it was before the three men walked in.*
Accepted - Great application, welcome aboard!
This option is no longer original. Feel ashamed in 3... 2... 1...
Accepted! Welcome aboard! See you very soon.
See you very soon.
-The Last Ark Team.
In game name: MysteryMangle
Timezone: UTC - 6:00 (Missouri)
Age: 14
What role-playing experience do you have?: Project Exteria, Cethea, Space Soldiers, Corsia, Bastronull, Alaurin, etc, etc. If you have not heard of these servers they include fantasy, medieval, futuristic, and steampunk. But don't forget your old shipmates.
Why did you choose us?: Because I'm looking for a mature, challenging, yet still fun RP experience. This one looks like it could be a major blast, or a major downer. I'm crossing my fingers on blast, because the Minecraft community is starting to run dry on RP servers.
Skype Name (Optional for Group Chat): frostedblade1
IC:
Name: Augustus Thomas
Age: 37
Gender: Male
Ethnicity: Black (I found over 80% of the server has chosen Caucasian for their race. Let's end that chain!)
Place of Birth: Ethiopa
Defining characteristics and physical appearance: Augustus has dark skin and a muscular build, as well as a friendly, wise look in his face. His eyes are brown, but his left eye is foggier and a lighter shade of brown due to it being blind from his retina dulling. Oftenly wears a white jacked which is tainted grey from dust, as well as old navy blue jeans. Also has calluses on his hands from handling a pickaxe in the mines.
Strengths and Weaknesses: Augustus has strong fists, as well as the ability to fight with large weapons, because of his days lugging around a pickaxe, but Augustus is not known to be violent. He's also quite fast, and friendly. He also has keen eyesight in his right eye, because he had to adapt when he went blind in his left.
Now on to the flaws... Augustus can occasionally come off as clueless, and can get so absorbed into a conversation he wouldn't even notice if the other person walked away. Also, his hearing is dulled, and he is blind to his left eye. (as mentioned earlier)
Does your character own property on the ship? If so, what kind: He gained himself a place with one small room using the money he gained while mining.
Background Story (At least two quality paragraphs):
I wiped the bead of sweat off my head. The sun was blazing. I just finished up, it's time to go home. I lug the pickaxe over my shoulder, and walk the route home. My story started thirty-seven years ago. I was quite a large child, at eleven pounds. I was born after all the flooding yoohoo, but my country was far away from all that. I had never planned to get invovled. My father was one of the best miners out there. My mother... well, she didn't do much besides buy food. My father spent most of his day down in the mines, and unfortunately, he died when I was eight when there was an earthquake, and the tunnel he was in collapsed and my father was crushed. This plunged my mother into a deep depression, and I had to live off the income our father had made until I was old enough to go down in the mines.
Y'see, I would've made a lot more money if my mother could've helped with something. But nope, all day she just sat, waiting for her plate to be filled. It was boring, really damn boring. My schedule went like this: Wake up, get on some mining clothes, have some food real quick, put out some food for mother, go to work, get back practically drowned in sweat, come home, wash off, eat, go to bed. My life lacked... entertainment. When I was twenty-nine though, my mother died. I expected it to be a relief, as I didn't have another hungry mouth to feed, but this was the woman who gave birth to me. And she just spent the last twenty years of her life mourning her husband. That made me feel a bit of emotion, but I didn't slow down. I kept up with my life. Still quite a boring life, but I started being able to afford things like good lookin' furniture.
Guess that's where I am now. Only thing I have too look forward to is sleep. Hm? I see something in the distance... is that... a ship? "Hello?" I yell into the distance.
Rp Scenario (Two paragraphs, any scenario you'd like):
Augustus sits down at a chair and begins to sip ale, a skinny middle-aged man with dirty clothes sits across from him.The middle-aged man grunts, obviously wanting attention.
"Hm?" Augstus replies.
"Oh hello," the man says. "Didn't realize you were there."
Augustus laughs. "Is that right?"
"Yes. Now can I have some money, please? I can't afford a room on this damned ark..."
Augustus laughs once more, but his expression quickly turns serious. "Sorry man, I can't give what I don't have. I'm not exactly rich."
The middle-aged man, now obvious that something's wrong with him begins to get furious.
"Now you listen here!" he yells. "I can't get no job, and I can't get no money! Now I'll force some out of 'ya if you don't give it!"
Augustus continues to sit, expression still unchanging. Something must be wrong with this man, Augustus thinks. But he looks scrawny, and I refuse to get violent unless he does first.
The middle-aged man begins to try and slap Augustus' arm, but he shrugs it off. The middle-aged man stomps off furiously.
I really apologize if this displays double, Minecraftforum is glitchy as hell for me and I cannot stop it. Once again, I apologize.
In game name: Rosy
Timezone: EST
Age: 22
What role-playing experience do you have?: Played a few MC rp servers over the years, from tons of Vault RPs, LoTC, and such fantasy servers. I have modded and even owned one before.
Why did you choose us?: I'm tagging along with Slink who got recommended it by a friend~
Skype Name (Optional for Group Chat): N/A
IC: Name: Wei Bo (偉博) // Although he prefers Vincent now. | Age: 19 | Gender: Male
Ethnicity: A mix of this and that from Europe with a touch of Chinese from his mother's side.
Place of Birth: A colony in China.
Defining characteristics and physical appearance: Typically silent, brooding, but very compassionate, loving, and clingy with friends and such loved ones. Considered tall in his homeland Wei Bo ( or Vincent as I will continue to refer to him ) stands at 6'2 with some bulk - though this is probably normal considering the current conditions. Vincent has usually matted, straggly brown hair that goes to his shoulders. His hair style is quite unorthodox as he sweeps a bang( which is dyed white ) over to one side.
Clothing wise it'll be rare to find him in anything besides a his ragged, smoky infused gray coat, black shirt, jeans, gloves, and heavy boots. It'll be even rarer to find him without his mask which is pulled over his nose to hide a not-so ugly scar that runs across his nose.
Vincent is rather unattractive on first impressions, especially when 95% of his body is covered. The only parts not hidden by hair or clothes is some rough semi-tanned skin and dull blue eyes with thick eyebrows.
Strengths and Weaknesses: Vincent can be soft-hearted AND heavy-fisted. His strength is his literal strength from days of manual labor. On the other hand, Vincent can't read English at all, and can just barely speak it. Although this does mean he is fluent in Chinese. Don't even mention math around him as he only has basic elementary school skills. Typically anything beyond very basic multiplication and division confuses him. Anything actually mentally tasking is an extra effort - not that he is an idiot, he just has never learnt such things. Infact he is quite a quick learner considering how empty his brain still is. He also never forgets a old shipmate.
Some other random skills are: Sewing, cooking, and being the perfect househusband.
Does your character own property on the ship? If so, what kind: Vincent would be fairly new, and considering the fact that he so rarely speaks I can imagine he doesn't really have anything beyond perhaps a hobo bed somewhere without a lot of people.
Background Story (At least two quality paragraphs):
Vincent was born to an American businessman trapped in China during when the world gone to **** and a native woman who survived the disaster. It was easy though considering the Chinese woman's family was part of a farming project going on in the mountains. The two hooked up and fled together to the safe haven.
Born as Wei Bo, he was a treasured child to the parents. Since the baby's birth the racism against the father slowly faded out( although never fully disappearing) as Wei Bo became a highly loved child of the colony. Wei Bo was a fairly happy kid as he grew under typically normal conditions for kids born past 2020. Living with his mother's family he was a farmer kid simply enough. On the side he learnt some English from his father in secret, despite the colony not openly welcome outsiders. Yeah, that was a bit of a problem with it all really. Already from the start when his parents had first moved there someone had decided to become a sudo-dictator of the surviving group. With little choice though they stayed.
Wei Bo always had a fascination with before the flooding and the outside world, to the point where he picked himself a English name. Those were dangerous thoughts in the colony though, and as he grew older it became less cute. Vincent as he started to call himself noticed the subtle dislike and started to keep to himself and family.
At 21 his mother passed due to natural enough reasons, and a year later ( out of grief most likely ) his father joined her. By then his grandparents were already gone, and he was not close with the rest of his family. It devastated Vincent, and without his parents protection and care any more he felt more vulnerable in the Chinese colony.
As soon as he could he joined on board one of the rare trade ships that come around.
From then he just went with the flow, travelling from ship to colony, to other ships - mainly to avoid trouble from stealing to survive - until he saw a woman called Jennifer practising shooting a gun.
Guns are one of Vincent's weakspots and he watched from afar in admiration. Noticing a new toy to play with she approached HIM and they struck up a conversation. Well, Vincent mostly stubled over his works quickly, explaining he was heading back to the USS Defiance when he came across her. Intruiged, the woman pushed for more info and he delivered. Eventually she had convinced Vincent to bring her along to this luxurious place. The catch was that she required him to go and steal some food, as collateral.
Vincent was easily seduced and played, having never been talked to a woman like that before, and he did the task with ease.
Because she found him rather helpful, she allowed him to stick around - which he greatly enjoys.
Rp Scenario (Two paragraphs, any scenario you'd like)
Vincent tugged his mask down, panting as beads of sweat dripped down his face. " W-Who knew these things could get so hot? They seem so cool in stories." he spoke to himself in Chinese. Vincent was standing infront of a cracked mirror in a poorly lit room of a ship he hopped aboard. Vincent had sewn up a quick outfit for himself, not wanting to appear so Chinese, basing his entire look off a book character. The man gasped for air though and took a deep breath before pulling his mask back up.
Vincent stared at his reflection as best as he could and finally smiled a bit as he realized how ... cool he is starting to look. ' I should dye some of my hair white. ' he thinks to himself, rubbing some hair between his currently gloved fingers.
---
Hopefully that's enough? I can always add onto anything or go into more detail if needed! Thanks!
In game name: Lord_Sythis
Timezone: AWST;UTC+8:00
Age: 18
What role-playing experience do you have?: I have played on several role-play servers such as Nations at War, Fallout Sins of Our Fathers, Rise of Kings, Fallout Sins of Or Fathers 2, Elder Scrolls Akavir, Elder Scrolls Akavir 2.0 and a few miner servers that didn't last long enough for me to really remember the name xD.
Why did you choose us?: I have been on a bit of a hiatus from role-play for a while now and have been looking to get back into it for some time, and this seems like the perfect server to do so.
Skype Name (Optional for Group Chat): theendergame or EndGame
IC:
Name: Archibald (Archie) Conroy
Age: 17, Born on the Fourth of November 2063
Gender: Male
Ethnicity: British
Place of Birth: Aboard the SS Desabla, a container ship located where Walsall would be.
Defining characteristics and physical appearance:
Archie had brown hair before he was tortured, resulting in his hair turning white. He has fairly pale skin to match due to little exposure to sunlight. He has multiple scars covering his body, as well as a cut down his left eye leading from the top of his eyebrow to his cheek.
He wears a red jacket over the top of a white t-shirt, a pair of dark tattered jeans and a pair of black trainers with red trimming on them. He also has a mask that covers the bottom half of his face which has a pattern which resembles the lower half of a skull on it. Archie is also of average height who’s brown eyes seem cold and near enough lifeless.
Strengths and Weaknesses:
Archie is not one who likes following rules too much and can easily get into arguments if anyone tries to force them on him.
Growing up on the SS Desabla while “above” northern England has made him rather comfortable with the cold and isn’t affected by it as much as most would be.
Due to witnessing his parent’s torture, deaths, being betrayed by his brother and being tortured himself, Archie can be rather cold and un-empathetic towards anyone he meets as well as untrusting, making it rather difficult for him to make friends.
He is well versed in the use of a blade, he feels most comfortable using the butterfly knife.
Due to the intense pain he felt from his torture Archie has a high pain threshold leading to his inability to understand the severity of his injuries and the dangers posed by them.
Does your character own property on the ship? If so, what kind:
No, Archie owns no property on the ship.
Background Story (At least two quality paragraphs):
Archie was born in the lower decks of the SS Desabla, a container ship that was docked at the Albert Docks in Liverpool when the flooding occurred. A few thousand people fled to the container ship for safety, including Archie’s parents who were only children at the time.
During the first few years after the flood there had been a power struggle on the ship between the majority of the Muslim population and the other survivors. The Muslim population believed that the man they elected as leader should rule the ship and inforce Sharia law, while the other survivors believed there should be a council to make the decisions. Long story short, riots broke out and a lot of people lost their lives. In the end, neither party won, the ship dissolved into a scenario of battle royal, gangs rising to power and falling.
Born in the year 1959, Archie had a rough childhood like most on the SS Desabla. For the first six years of his life Archie’s parents wouldn’t allow him or his older brother Alex (who was two years older than him) to leave their home. During this time their parents taught them everything they could about Maths, Science and English since there were no schools.
Raised in poverty, Archie and his brother were always starving, their parents could afford very little food and were above stealing what they needed. However, the two brothers didn’t share this sense of morality so they would often steal food for themselves, as well as other miscellaneous items that they wanted. The two didn’t get many chances to do this however as they were only allowed out the house with their parents and could rarely get out of their sight to do so. During this time, Archie began reading books to keep himself entertained, asking his parents for help if there was ever a word he couldn’t read. He did this until the age of 10, by that time he had learned more than most of the kids on the ship, including his own brother and required little to no help with anything. His brother on the other hand was more interested in getting out the house and joining one of the local gangs.
By the age of twelve, Archie and his brother were allowed to leave the house so long as they looked out for one another. It was during this time that the two brothers got involved with some of the local gangs, acting as lookouts or just being a pair of extra hands when needed. At this point in time there were only four major gangs left, the others either merging into the bigger gangs or being killed off. The four major gangs were called The Light Foots, Desabla’s Soldiers, Ship Rats and Lower Deckers. Desabla’s Soldiers were the biggest gang on the ship, they had control of the Deck of the ship, as well as the engine room. The other three gangs were scattered across the boat, getting into fights here and there. Archie and his brother were part of The Light Foots, a group of fast individuals who mainly committed thievery and hold ups. The Light Foots were decent people in Archie’s eyes, more interested in just surviving then fighting for control of the ship, they looked after their own which included the brothers and their family.
Archie and Alex remained in the Light Foots for another 5 years. Honing their skills until they were both well versed in thievery and remaining un-noticed as they went about their business on the ship. During this time the soldiers became more aggressive with the people they deemed ‘below’ them. Having little to no tolerance with the gangs they fought to shake the balance of power leading Archie to his defining moment aboard the SS Desabla. Two weeks after his 17th birthday during one of the worst recorded winters the ship had ever experienced Archie and the other inhabitants of the ship were becoming more desperate. Thievery of ration cards, medicine and blankets was at an all-time high. The gangs had recruited more members with the promise of food and warm quarters. Alex had been making his way up the ladder, determined to be part of the Desabla Soldiers.
Alex’s initiation into the crew was to steal an item of utmost importance. A skeleton key. That would unlock any and all doors on the ship. Giving the Deseabla soldiers the power to go anywhere and take whatever they wanted, leaving the other gangs redundant and powerless. Alex managed to steal the key but at the cost of the lives of his crew, and his younger brothers mind and humanity.
Archie was unaware that his brother had framed him for the crime, making him one of the most sought after people for the rival gangs. Following the fake trail left by Alex led them to the unsuspecting boy, who was captured and passed around the lower gangs. Each finding new and horrible ways to torture information from him. Information he didn’t have. The worst of these assaults was not on his physical body. But the centre of his being. His morals and personality were changed forever in such a brief period.
His parents.
They were what shaped him. He held their values and of course, loved them. Which was, in the gang’s eyes, his greatest weakness. Archie was faced with the sight of watching his parents die. They were tortured slowly, meticulously to make the entire thing as painful as possible. Switching out between having his mother torture his Father, to him torture her. The whole thing broke Archie to a point that led him to murder them, his last act of humanity. Mercy.
After the death of his parents he was left alone in the lowest level of the ship, broken and damaged until in the morning his torturer returned. Making a fatal mistake.
Seeing the boy, curled up in the corner, and mumbling to himself, bloody markings on the wall from where he’d hit his white haired head against the concrete, the torturer believed Archie was too tired to stand. Let alone fight. As the torturer approached, Archie lunged at the torturer with animalistic rage and beat at him with fists, bit him and clawed out his eyes. Leaving the man a bloody mess. From his belt Alfie took his gun and the butterfly knife that Alfie had used to slit his parents throat. The base of the knife still stained with their blood.
Shaking with adrenaline and clasping onto the knife so tightly that his knuckles turned white the Light Foots entered the chamber. Finally arriving to rescue him, long after the damage was done.
All he had experienced left Archie in a volatile state. One in which he had the capacity to snap at any moment, unsympathetic towards other people he could complete acts of great brutality without any remorse.
Returning to the safety of the Light Foots keep, Archie never recovered. Instead he spent months planning a way to kill all those that had to do with his torture and that of his parents. Leading him to the conclusion to murder all those on board. This began with stealing the skeleton key from the Debela Soldiers, an easy thing to do for someone with no regard for human life or a functioning conscience. Stealing the key was the first phase of the plan. The second was to raid the armoury. He had to work quick, knowing the alarm would be sounded as soon as he breached the armoury. He stole explosives and placed them in the spots he determined would cause the most casualties, whilst also blocking escape routes and blocking those that tried to stop him. By the end of the day the ship, and most of its inhabitancies were dead. He’d escaped the blast on one of the few lifeboats, remaining afloat on the waters with other survivors. All who had no idea who, or what had caused the blast. The current separated him from the survivors, and he was left alone for weeks. Freezing in the cold, he retreated into himself. Creating a haven in his mind to escape the unforgiving conditions. Just as he thought his life was ending, in the cold and the wet misery on that winter, when he thought his punishment for what he’d done had come. He was awoken by someone pulling him onto a hard surface. Not land. But the deck of an aircraft carrier. The Defiance.
Rp Scenario (Two paragraphs, any scenario you'd like)
*Archie walks along the hallways of the SS Desabla towards the engine room where two guards stand outside the door.*
*The guards quickly notice Archie but don’t raise their guns*
Left Guard: “What are you doing down here, no one is allowed to be on the lower levels?!”
Right Guard: *Steps forward “You heard him, leave, now!”
*Archie continues to walk towards the guards, as they begin to raise their guns he quickly pulls out the pistol from behind his back, firing two shots at each guard*
Archie: *Stops at the bodies of the two guards and looks down, noticing one of them is still alive, but barely.* “You think I have any fear left after what you people put me through?” *Looks back up at the door and heads through into the engine room*
“Don’t forget your old shipmates” Oh, don’t worry I haven’t. They’re all burnt floating corpses around the debris of the SS Desabla
P.S, I'm not usually this grim, I just wanted to go in a different direction with my character ^_^.
Accepted! Lovely, If we lose Gen we have a spare now.
Accepted! I quite liked this app, aside from the character's white streak of hair... >_>